#this would look so fun as holographic

[edenfire]

🪽🎀 angel, baby~🎀🪽

this was just meant to be a cool down doodle, but here we are XD angel dust has taken over my life💗💞🌸

also pls check out @hellbentcon if you haven't already👀🙏

[sweetimpurity]

☽༓･˚⁺‧͙ day 11! yayayy! I blacked out for this one 🥵

wc: 2.2k cw: bondage, breeding ;) enjoy!! ☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

“Shit…” He sighs. Running a hand through his hair, the talons peeking out slightly. They’ve been coming out and going back in all day, little pin pricks aching at his fingertips. Sensitive when he touches anything, pissing him off. Like he can’t control it. He’s been cooped up in his office all day. 

“Lyla. Update.” He demands in monotone, brow furrowed and focusing on the levels and charts on the holographic screen in front of him. The hovering pixels refresh as the levels increase and decrease. Numbers calculating. “They’re on their way back… just finishing some cleanup.” She replies. Hovering over his desk before settling, ‘leaning’ on a coffee mug from a few days ago. He hasn’t done anything, hasn’t eaten or drank anything since you left on that damn mission three days ago.  He should have remembered. That this specific time would have him aching for you. And now you’ve been gone. It’s his own damn fault and he’s been beating himself up over it. Feeling heavy, feverish, angry. He’s been tracking his levels every hour. Hormones and brain activity. Why must his warped genetics plague him in this way?

“Lyla I…I thought the serum was supposed to help…” He sighs, brow twitching, eyes closing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “It will… but you only took one dose. It’ll be more effective after a few more.” She replies. Watching him with a raised brow. His behavior. 

He sighs again, a slight growl in the back of his throat. Pacing back and forth on his platform and crossing his beefy arms, like trapping his restless hands under them. Finally sitting down in his chair. His legs spread wide. It’s the only way with the pressure in his loins. With the need to be released. He’s in rut. As embarrassing as it is. And you’re not here. It’s like the perfect storm. 

“Oh- just landed…” Lyla chirps, popping up by him and displaying the portal chamber surveillance footage right in front of his face. Too close to his face, lighting his angry features up in a yellow glow. “Lyla!” He growls, trying to grab at her pixelated form. His hand went right through. But his eyes finally land on your form. Walking through the main portal alongside some other spider people. The team he sent you with. You’ve just entered the building and he can already smell you. Your pheromones. You’re floors and floors down and he’s already getting hard. The pressure in his suit tightening. “Lyla. Go.” 

She giggles. Floating around, teasing him. She’s all too familiar with his behavior by now. She puts up with so much. “Have fun, bossman…” She snarks, her hologram dissipating in front of his frowny face. A huff of relief leaving him once she’s gone. Leaving him alone. Waiting for you. 

He groans. The ache. His cock hard and hurting for you. Glancing over his shoulder at the door. Not yet. His hands go down, cupping his erection, only to whine softly at the pain he inflicts. Just the smallest of touches and he’s keeling over in his desk chair. “Ay… Fuck…” He sighs. Sharp canines biting down hard on his lip.

“Heyyyy!” Your voice breaks through the silence of his office. Your scent is stronger than ever when you push the door open. The stimulation goes straight to his dick, like it’s begging for your heat. Begging to be soothed in your slick warmth. Desperate to fill you up. To mate. To breed you. 

“Oh my god, you should have seen me out there… I was pretty good if I do say so myself… got the bad guy and all that. Even got a few common crooks while we were staking out…” You explain, jumping up on his platform. Bringing the box of equipment to his desk and setting it down. It’ll need to be cleaned and assessed. Some pieces to be fixed before they go back in rotation. 

His eyes darken. Watching you walk by. He’s glad you’re back. Of course. He loves you. But his mind isn’t on that right now. Right now he’s thinking about how good you’d look swollen and full of his babies. Full of his cock. Dripping with his potent seed. 

“Ben was a perfect alternative, he stepped in and really helped us out… Peter thought so too…” You keep going. Going over everything that happened over the past few days. “That’s… good…” He manages to say. His voice low and hushed, a croak. Watching your back, your ass. Moving from behind the chair, standing a few feet behind you now. He swallows hard. 

You glance up at his screens. He must have been busy as always. Keeping himself busy. Your hands slow down as you place machinery pieces on his desk from the mission supply. Spider senses tingling. 

In a matter of seconds, he’s pressing up against you. His chest against your back and his nose burying in your hair, in your neck. Inhaling your scent. His hearing picks up on the rise in your heart rate. The way you react to him. 

“Missed me, hm?” You hum, smiling and leaning into him. 

“More than you know…” He huffs. Pressing himself into your ass. Letting you feel just how needy he is. Your suspicions were correct. It’s that time again. Your senses never let you down. 

“That’s good because I missed you…” You whisper. Coaxing him. Leaning your head back on his shoulder. Letting him grind into your ass. Rubbing his erection into the soft plushness. And you hear the releases of breath from his lips, like he’s been pent up so long. “I love you…” He whispers by your ear. One of his big hands wrapping around, splaying across your tummy, imagining himself burying deep, all the way to your womb. 

“I love you too…” You can’t help but smile, rubbing back against him, hearing the slight hiss at the back of his throat. “Remember that…” He hums, something of a warning. The words stir something inside you. And you know what’s to come. This kind of fuck only comes once in a blue moon. Because normal Miguel would never allow himself to be so cruel. 

“Remember.” He hums in your ear. Turning dials on his watch this whole time. Smashing the screen and your suit instantly retracts. The confrontation of the cold on your skin makes you shiver. It’s too much for him. Your scent is stronger than ever. His dick leaking and crying to be inside you already. A strong hand on your back pushes you down to the desk. Tits smooshing and tummy contracting on the cold glass surface. A shiver and gasp filling your body. His hands work fast. White stringy webs leaving his wrists. Letting them bind and wrap around you. Working them around your torso, across your breasts. His webs, decorating your skin, wrapping you up. He wraps them around your wrists like ropes, only stronger, harder to break. Beautiful web designs scatter along your arms, wrapped around your body like a fly in a spider’s web. Like you’re the spider’s final meal. A loud thwip and he’s mounting webs on two opposite walls, letting it connect to your arms and spreading them wide. You can’t escape, you can barely move. Hanging, dangling, ever so slightly. With only the desk under your belly for support. But then there’s his hands. 

His big warm hands, suddenly bare of his suit. His dark tanned skin, fingers running up your hips, down your ass and delivering a gentle smack. Making you whine. Your pussy aching for him at this point. And he can smell it. He can smell your slick, he can almost taste it in the air. Like a drug he knows by taste alone. It’s taking all his willpower not to pound into you just yet. But the rut does not cloud his judgment to that extent. He could never forget that he loves you and would never dream of hurting you. Tying you up in his webs, that’s a different story. 

His hand wraps around, fingers running up your slit, parting your folds and collecting your slick on his fingers. Bring the fingertips to his mouth to wet them further, tasting you and groaning. “Oh baby- fuck so good… so so good…” He mumbles, his hand going back down between your thighs and running along your slippery sex. His fingers teasing your hole before plunging inside. Making you shiver and shake. Pulling on the webs you’re restrained in. One finger, then two. Dripping down his fingers and onto the desk. His hormone levels are off the charts. His mind going crazy. Wanting to come. Wanting to spill his seed but needing it to be inside you. He won’t waste it. He needs to get you pregnant.

“Oh Miguel!! Ah! Mm-ngh…!” His fingers work their magic, bringing you to glorious orgasm. Your juices dripping down his knuckles as you moan and whine. The webs straining and tensing under the pressure of your pull. Panting for breath, your knees pulling up and hitting against the edge of his desk. Bent over, tied up and needy for more. 

When you come down from the high, his fingers pull free. Bringing his fingers to his lips. He’s quiet. In a trance. Hazy and half gone and he hasn’t even gotten to the good part yet. His eyes flutter and roll back at the taste of you on his tongue. Sucking on his fingers ravenously and you can only hear the sucking sounds mixed with his groans. Crimson eyes blowing wide, bashing his watch for his suit to disappear entirely. Instantly grinding his hard, pulsing dick along your puffy pussy. Teasing his tip around your entrance and sucking on his fingers like it soothes him. Pacifies his ache even a little bit. 

“Baby- babe you want… I want- you’re so good, baby, taste so good…” He murmurs incoherently, whining. Pushing his cock through your folds, up to your clit, making your toes curl, knees drawing up. Wrapping your hands around the webs binding you. “Ngh just take it all, okay? I’ll fill you up and-and… and… Dios…ah, te amo tanto… no puedo vivir sin ti…” He whimpers. The softness of your pussy against his needy tip makes him crumble. Keeling over and pressing his mouth to your shoulder. Massaging his dick through your slick. Savoring the feeling for a moment longer. “Ay mami…” 

He bites down on your shoulder. Using his fingers to guide his cock to your core and slipping in. His brain short circuiting at the tight wet pressure. “Fuck!” He growls, instantly spurting hot white. His voice hoarse and needy. Grabbing your hips in the front and pushing in all the way to the hilt. Pushing you up the desk, the webs straining as your arms pull. His body practically mounting yours. Stretching you out on his girth in one go. Pulling a shrill cry from your lips, moaning at the warmth flooding your belly. “Ngh-Miguel! Ohhhh….”

“Oh yes…” He hisses. Finding relief in final release. Who gives a shit if he didn’t get two pumps in before it happened. He’ll pump you with much more cum before the night is over.  

He pulls back, drawing aching whimpers from your lips. Trying to soothe you with kisses to your shoulder blades, your neck. Collecting your hair into his hand and gently pulling back. Moaning as he does it. And he plunges back in, molding you around his cock. Slipping in easier with his cum loosening you up. “T-todo lo que siempre he necesitado, mami…” His sweet words make your heart flutter. His face tucking into your neck from behind as he pumps into you.  

Moaning as he pulls back again and thrusts back in deep. Working up a rhythm, holding your hair back. His other hand wraps around to your clit, rubbing with tenderness in a stark contrast to his powerful pumps. Webs straining, the tension threatening to break the strands as you cry out for him. Legs shaking and trembling. His own moans are broken and hoarse. Full of need and desperation. All he can think of is filling you up. His cum, his DNA tainting you, mixing with yours. Making babies. Lots of them. The image of you full of his children makes him crazy. “You’ll be such a pretty mami, baby… so pretty, so so so…” He pants. His hips slapping your ass with every push, like wild animals in the jungle. His spider half taking over completely. Your soft whimpering moans fill his ears. His words shooting right to your core, making your eyes roll back and gushing on him. Crying out for him and the webs snap! Your arms dropping and you’d fall flat on the desk if he didn't grab you in time. Pulling you to his chest, pumping into you even faster. Climbing up on the desk and kneeling down for leverage. Pushing your body down to arch for him. Pounding into you with unending power. Even after you come, he doesn’t stop. Pulling one more trembling orgasm from you before he’s spurting once more. Filling you just like he promised. Finally stopping with a huff. His mind mostly gone but there’s part of him left, just for you. 

“You okay, mama? Look at me…” He whispers, turning you over gently. Admiring that look on your face. That fucked out smile. “Te amo… needa make sure it sticks…” 

Taglist!! love my sweeties!

@spooky-sculder

@slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13

@divorcepaperz @yeahnohoneybye @zaunsin @tomalymme @drefear

@mrs-pondwater19 @saintdiior @aphinthestars @hyjionie

@palomanh @maxad99 @muuuwoppppp

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist, please comment on my masterlist post. Or else I might not see it! thank you! 🩷

[venusianpulp]

Rising Sign & Your Perfect Festival Outfit

Here are the perfect any music festival outfits for each of the 12 zodiac signs and Ascendants, with details on color schemes, materials, accents, and overall aesthetics:

PSA: Images and descriptions are both complimentary, so they may not be entirely identical, but everything is relevent.

Aries Rising: Bold and daring, an Aries rising would rock a fiery red crop top paired with high-waisted denim shorts. Accessorize with a black leather choker, combat boots, and a statement belt. The outfit screams confidence and adventure.

Taurus Rising: Earthy and sensual, a Taurus rising would opt for a flowy, bohemian-style maxi dress in shades of green and brown. Pair with a leather fringe vest, ankle boots, and a wide-brimmed hat. The outfit exudes comfort and laid-back elegance.

Gemini Rising: Playful and eclectic, a Gemini rising would mix and match patterns and colors. A graphic tee paired with a colorful, patterned skirt, fishnet stockings, and high-top sneakers. Accessorize with layered necklaces and quirky sunglasses for a fun, youthful vibe.

Cancer Rising: Soft and feminine, a Cancer rising would choose a vintage-inspired, pale blue sundress with delicate lace details. Pair with a cozy, oversized cardigan, ankle-strap sandals, and a small, cross-body bag. The outfit radiates comfort and nostalgia.

Leo Rising: Bold and dramatic, a Leo rising would make a statement in a metallic gold romper with a plunging neckline. Accessorize with a chunky, gold chain necklace, oversized sunglasses, and platform heels. The outfit screams glamour and confidence.

Virgo Rising: Clean and practical, a Virgo rising would opt for a crisp, white button-down shirt tucked into high-waisted, black denim shorts. Pair with a black leather belt, minimalist jewelry, and comfortable, low-top sneakers. The outfit is polished and effortlessly chic.

Libra Rising: Elegant and balanced, a Libra rising would choose a flowy, pastel pink maxi skirt paired with a white, off-the-shoulder crop top. Accessorize with delicate, gold jewelry, strappy sandals, and a woven clutch. The outfit is feminine and harmonious.

Scorpio Rising: Mysterious and alluring, a Scorpio rising would opt for a black, lace bodysuit paired with high-waisted, faux leather leggings. Layer with a sheer, black kimono, and accessorize with a choker, ankle boots, and a dark, smoky eye. The outfit is seductive and intense.

Sagittarius Rising: Adventurous and free-spirited, a Sagittarius rising would rock a tie-dye, cropped t-shirt paired with distressed, cut-off denim shorts. Accessorize with a woven, multicolored belt, layered anklets, and gladiator sandals. The outfit is playful and adventurous.

Capricorn Rising: Classic and sophisticated, a Capricorn rising would choose a sleek, solid & colored co-ord with a structured, cinched waist. Pair with knee high or thigh high black boots or dainty shoes, minimalist jewelry, and subtly refined look. The outfit is timeless and powerful.

Aquarius Rising: Unique and unconventional, an Aquarius rising would opt for a holographic, iridescent bodysuit paired with high-waisted, flared pants. Accessorize with a chunky, silver choker, platform boots, and a brightly colored, faux fur coat. The outfit is futuristic and eccentric.

Pisces Rising: Dreamy and ethereal, a Pisces rising would choose a flowy, sheer, pastel purple maxi dress with delicate, floral embroidery. Layer with a soft, crochet cardigan, and accessorize with a flower crown, layered, beaded necklaces, and strappy, barefoot sandals. The outfit is whimsical and enchanting.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Spiders, Bats, And More!

{1/?}

《BATBOYS and SPIDER!S/O》 Mini Series

╭╭(╭◕‿◕╮)╮╮ ♡ /|\ ^._.^ /|\

{Where a bat, a spider meets the mentors!}

Bruce Wayne/Batman:

"(L/N)." A familiar voice calls out to you.

"Miguel-!" You cheer, happily turning over to your "boss". Jumping over to hug him happily. "Wow! You look amazing! New outfit and hair- oh!" You pause your ranting as he pushes you off. Lyla eagerly returning you words as her holographic form floats around you.

"Oh! Miguel! I want you to meet my partner." You turn your attention away from them.

He blinks. What did you mean-?

A huge body appears from beyond the shadows. Stalking over to your side, his mask glaring down at the other spider, his arm muscles flex as they cross disapprovingly at them.

"This is my partner! Isn't he a dreamboat?" You say allowed, hyping up the tall male.

"Huh... Yeah, real emphases on boat huh..." Lyla remarks, as she leans near, as you wrap an arm around Bruce.

"I know right! He's strong like one!" You cheer, as he grunts apathetically at the comment Lyla gave. You smile cheekily as Miguel merely hums, no longer focused on bat-themed hero. He looks to his watch as he types in a few things.

" 'B'?" Lyla asks.

"Yeah!"

Miguel mutters curse's over his breath when realizing where the watch had brought him too.

-

[Here's something silly I wanted to write for since everyone is doing a Batman and Spider verse more! It's really fun to right for! So I thought I would throw another idea out there into the ring! Yes, this is a part of the Spider and Bat Snippets I have floating around my blog

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Sex pollen!Steve Rogers x Reader

Here's a little oneshot I came up with! Word count: 3018

Y/N and Steve were on a mission to retrieve a rumored bioweapon from an off-group of Hydra.  There was very little information on what it was or what it did, but they had followed some leads to find the Hydra agent heading toward a resort in Malta to a big buyer.  They had arrived a few days prior to the agent, playing the part of a newly married couple on their honeymoon.  Y/N had enjoyed the vacation part of the trip, being by the pool, exploring the little island’s sights and selfishly indulging in the faux affection between her and Steve in public.  She had feelings for her Captain.  Who wouldn’t?  With that handsome face, which for some inhumanly ridiculous reason looked even more handsome with the beard he grew, the longer hair he’d grown out, looking sun kissed on the Maltese beaches and cobblestone streets, and those deep blue eyes that made her weak in the knees.

“The fun has arrived,” she said quietly, her sunglasses hiding her gaze.

Steve was laying on his stomach on the beach chair next to hers, his head lifting slowly when she spoke.  “Hm?” he replied.

“Two o’clock,” Y/N murmured.  Steve got up from the chair like he was going to resituate himself, subtly looking at the agent.  He stretched and took a drink of the beer he’d ordered, then sat next to her on her chair.

He leaned forward, caging her to the chair with his huge arms, and kissed her cheek, his lips traveling down her jaw to her ear.  “So who's our buyer?” he whispered in her ear.

Y/N tried to concentrate on the agent moving amongst the guests sitting around the pool, Steve’s lips trying their best to distract her.  The agent stopped in front of a couple of young men laying out on chairs, greeting them jovially with wide spread arms.  They all got up and greeted him equally, with one of them shaking his hand and speaking quietly to him.  “Frat boy number 3,” she whispered in his ear. 

Steve’s hands moved to grip her thick thighs, sliding his palms up to her hips as his head moved further down to her collarbone.  “Any others?” he asked.

Y/N watched the men from the corner of her eye as she leaned her head back, her hand moving up to run through Steve’s hair and the other gripping his shoulder, feeling down his muscled back.  “No, the rest are just the trust fund baby’s bodyguards,” she breathed, scratching his scalp.

“Good girl,” Steve replied, nipping at the swell of her breast before pulling away.  If she didn’t know any better she would have thought the look he gave her when he brought his face back to hers was adoring as he leaned in and nuzzled her nose.  “Let’s go plan our next move.”

Y/N smiled at him and nodded.  He stood and held his hand out to her, helping her stand up from her chair, then held that hand as he led her away from the pool and back to the resort.  They didn’t speak again as they rode the elevator up to their room, still holding hands, but the moment they were behind closed doors they let go and walked their separate ways.  Y/N quickly covered her swimsuit-clad body with a robe as Steve put on his shirt.  

“They’ll be at the resort ball tonight,” Y/N started, sitting down and pulling out the little screen from her purse.  The screen projected a holographic map of the resort layout, focusing on the ballroom.  “There’s multiple rooms they could go to just off the ballroom to meet in and do the exchange,” she said, pointing at the different rooms.  

“So we’ll just need to be paying close attention,” Steve said, sounding annoyed as he sat across from her, looking at the map intently.

“Or,” Y/N said suggestively, “I could cozy up to Frat boy.”

Steve’s eyes darkened.  “On our honeymoon?”

Y/N rolled her eyes.  “I won’t initiate it, just be in the right place at the right time,” she said.  “Don’t get jealous now, fake husband.”

Steve rolled his eyes.  “Just don’t wanna blow our cover, fake wife.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Y/N reassured him.  

***

That night Y/N headed towards the ballroom alone.  She wanted to give off the idea that she was alone at first, giving the Frat boy false hope.  She placed herself in his line of sight, sipping on a glass of champagne.  She’d gotten dressed and left before Steve was ready or could see her.  She had a feeling that if he’d seen this dress she’d have gotten a Captain-ly talking to.  The dress was blood red with curve-hugging ruffles that moved with her like waves as she walked.  It had a thigh high slit running up her left leg, and a low bust line that she had to use boob tape to keep in place, showing way too much cleavage.  The Frat boy’s eyes found her quickly, widening then darkening as he eye-fucked her.  She gave him a flirty smile, turning back to the bar and jutting her hip out, showing off the loose strapped-up back of the dress.

Within moments she felt fingers tickle up her spine.  “Hey beautiful,” the Frat boy greeted her, his fingers moving from her back to down her arm.

“Hey,” Y/N replied, keeping a smile.

“I’m Jack Malick,” he introduced himself, reaching out for her hand.

“Tess,” she replied easily, shaking his hand.

“No last name?” he probed.

“You’ll have to earn that,” she teased.

Jack chuckled and lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles.  “Oh I plan on it,” he said.  “Though I could have sworn I saw you at the pool earlier today with someone.”

Y/N smirked at his reaching.  “Yes, my husband.  We’re on our honeymoon.”

“And where’s said husband now?” Jack said, glancing around.

“Oh, having a pity party in the suite upstairs,” Y/N waved noncommittally.  “Married squabbles.”

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that,” Jack smirked, not looking the least bit sorry.  “How about I buy you a drink?”

“Thank you,” Y/N nodded.

She spent a good amount of time schmoozing Jack, and he brought her back over to his group of other frat boy-looking bodyguards.  She flirted with him, waiting for the Hydra agent to appear.  Thankfully she didn’t have to wait long, seeing him coming close with a small silver case.  “Ah, there you are,” Jack greeted him.  “Come on, beautiful,” he pulled her up and led her towards one of the side rooms, the agent following him while the bodyguards stayed put.  She followed him, taking a quick look around.  She saw Steve watching her from the bar, a scowl on his face.  She winked at him and saw him start moving along the edge of the packed dance floor.  Jack guided her into a conference room with the agent and locked the door behind him.  “You just stand over there looking pretty while I handle some business real quick,” he said to her.

Y/N nodded and stepped to the other side of the long table while Jack turned to the agent and talked to him quietly.  She tried listening but could only get snippets of the conversation before she glanced and saw the exchange of the agent’s case while Jack typed into his phone.  He took the case from the agent then shook his hand, the agent walking out and Jack locking the door again.  He approached Y/N with the case, opening it and pulling out a small vial.  “You up for a real party, Tess?” he asked, opening the vial.

Her eyes widened at how nonchalantly he handled the bioweapon.  “What is it?” she asked.

“The best aphrodisiac on the planet,” he replied.  He wound an arm around her waist, pulling her against him as he lifted the vial to her mouth.

“I don’t take random drugs,” Y/N said, trying to push away.  

“You’ll like this, beautiful,” Jack said, handling her more harshly.  “Pleasure beyond control.  I’ll have you sucking me off for hours.”

He shoved the vial to her mouth.  Y/N tried to keep her lips closed, but he was faster and forced it past her lips.  She yelped as the liquid in the vial hit her tongue while Jack held a hand over her mouth to stop her from spitting it out.  A loud wrenching sound came from the door and Steve barrelled in, a murderous glare on his face as he zeroed in on Jack.  “Get your hands off my wife,” he growled, nearly throwing himself across the room and tackling Jack away from Y/N.  She fell back, giving a wide breadth to Steve as he quickly knocked Jack unconscious.  She tried spitting out the liquid, but it felt like it was absorbed into her tongue, leaving a minty burning sensation.  

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, hurriedly moving to her, holding her face in his hands.

“It’s in me!” Y/N said frantically, her eyes wide as she gripped his wrists.  “He forced me to drink the bioweapon.”

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned.  “Fuck,” he swore.  He grabbed the empty vial and put it back in the small silver case, closing it and grabbing her hand, pulling her off the floor.  “Let’s get back to the room.”  

Y/N nodded absentmindedly.  She didn’t feel any different so far.  Well, she was feeling hot, but then again it could just be the rush of adrenaline from what had just happened, or her fear at what could happen to her from the bioweapon.  They knew so little about it that the information Jack had given her was all they had to go off of.

“He said it was the best aphrodisiac on the planet,” she said quietly once they reached the elevator.  Steve looked down at her worriedly.  “He called it ‘pleasure beyond control,’ and that he would have me sucking him off for hours.”

Steve’s frown deepened, his jaw ticking.  She stared at his jaw.  God thats so fucking hot.  “What?” he asked, looking surprised.

“What?” Y/N replied, looking at him confusedly.

“You just said…nevermind,” Steve said, shaking his head then pulling her out of the elevator to their room.  She stumbled to the couch in the main room of the suite, fanning herself with her hand as Steve double checked the vials in the case.  He walked over and kneeled in front of her, his hands going back to her face.  “How are you feeling?” he asked, looking her over carefully.

“Hot,” Y/N said, her breathing getting heavier.  ���Is the heat on?”

Steve shook his head as he held the back of his hand up to forehead.  “Jesus, you’re burning up,” he whispered.  He went to the little kitchen area and grabbed the ice in the freezer of the refrigerator, bringing it back and holding it against the back of her neck.  Y/N sighed at the cool ice on her scorching skin.  The ice melted fast.  

“Fuck, I’m…everything feels like it’s burning,” she whimpered.  She shivered when the first wave of pleasure wracked through the lower half of her body.  “Holy shit!”

“What?  What’s wrong?” Steve asked, sounding more worried by the second.  

Y/N started shaking as what felt like a small orgasm rippled through her pussy.  “Oh my god,” she moaned.  Steve looked at her incredulously.  “Please don’t judge me,” she whined as she peered up at him.  He shook his head.  “I’m…fuck, I’m so horny it hurts,” she huffed as her pussy fluttered around nothing.

“You’re…I’m sorry, what?” Steve frowned.

“Steve!” she cried out as she nearly came again.  She laid back against the couch.  “Please, get this off,” she said, pulling at the straps of the dress, freeing her breasts that were feeling more sensitive and sore by the second.

“Jesus, Y/N,” Steve scoffed as he looked away when she started stripping herself.  “I…I don’t know what to do.”

Y/N started crying, a big, fat, ugly cry, heavy sobs making her chest heave.  She was panicking.  Steve helped her get the dress completely off, and as he helped pull down the positively soaked thong she was wearing his fingers brushed against her inner thigh and she moaned loudly.  He looked at her with a stunned expression.  “I think…I think you need to help me,” Y/N sniffled.  

“How?” Steve whispered, his eyes raking down her naked body hungrily.

“Touch me…please!” Y/N shuddered again as her pussy clenched.  Steve exhaled sharply.  “You’ve been good at it until this point pretending to be my husband.  Please just fuck me like a husband would.  God fucking dammit!” she yelled, the pain rolling in her belly.

Steve paused for just a moment then leaned down and picked her up off the couch, carrying her bridal style to the bedroom.  They’d been sharing the bed because it was a huge California King size, but never gotten much closer than they had while out in public pretending.  He gently laid her down on the bed, then stepped back and started stripping himself.  “Okay, honey,” he said lowly, using the pet name he called her as his fake wife.  “I’ll take care of it,” he huffed, kicking off his pants and boxers.  Y/N looked down and gasped.  He was huge everywhere, and she felt herself get embarrassingly wetter at the sight.  He climbed on the bed and hovered over her.  “One last time, are you sure about this?” he asked, his eyes narrowed and his lips tight.  Y/N nodded, reaching up and running her hands down his large chest.  “Words, Y/N,” he commanded, using his stern Captain voice on her.  

“YES!  Fuck!” she screamed, her voice sounding gravelly with how much she’d been grunting and fighting back moans.  “Steve please!”

Steve nodded and looked down at her pussy finally.  “Holy shit you’re soaked,” he breathed.  He gripped his hard cock and rubbed it through her lower lips, coating himself in her slick.  “You ready?” he asked.  

“Yeah…yeah yeah yeah yeah,” she begged, her hips itching to have him fill her.

Steve started to push in, moaning loudly at how wet she was and how easily he was able to slide in.  “Holy FUCK honey!” he grunted, fully filling her in one thrust. 

The pain in Y/N’s belly significantly subsided once he was inside her, and she sighed heavily.  “Fuck me,” she whined, her hands scratching down his back to his ass, pulling him into her.  

“Yes ma’am,” Steve chuckled, then snapped his hips.  Y/N was a moaning, babbling, incoherent mess, her tears finally stopping but her body shaking under him with each thrust.  Steve’s super soldier stamina came to play as he helped her cum once, twice, three times, each time as her pussy clenched around him making him shudder, but he refused to cum yet.  

After her third orgasm he moved her to lay on her side with both her legs perpendicular to his hips, entering back into her quickly.  He smacked her ass over and over again, pulling wanton groans and dirty words from her mouth.  Steve pulled her top leg up straight and hooked her foot behind his neck, creating a deeper angle to reach inside her.  His fingers expertly played with her pussy as he fucked her, flicking her clit then tapping it quickly before rubbing it gently.  The arm she had tucked underneath her moved to grip her own hair as her hand closest to him gripped his bicep holding her leg up.  “Steve…” she whispered, her eyes rolling back for the umpteenth time.

“That’s it, honey, give me more,” Steve growled, a sweat finally breaking on his brow.  “You can do that, right?  Just one more?  I’m so close.  God you’re so pretty,” he kissed her calf, nipping at her ankle.  “I’ve been wanting to do this forever, you know that?”

Y/N looked up at him in surprise.  “You have?” she panted.

“Yeah,” he smiled down at her.  He put her leg back down and leaned over her, kissing her arm and grabbing her breast closest to him, sucking her nipple into his mouth, making her keen.  He continued his kisses up her sternum to her neck, sucking at her neck and licking her jaw.  “Been wanting you for so long, honey.  Pretending to be your husband?  I wasn’t pretending,” he smirked at her.  “I volunteered to do this mission when I found out it was going to be with you.”

Y/N’s mouth was agape in shock, her brow furrowing as her pussy fluttered once again, warning about her next orgasm.  Steve shivered when he felt it.  “I wasn’t pretending either,” she whispered, looking at him hopefully.

Steve fully smiled.  “Will you be mine, Y/N?” he asked, his thrusts becoming hurried.

“Fuck yeah,” Y/N smiled back at him.

Steve repositioned himself so he could reach her lips and kissed her deeply, his hips smacking into her so his cock hit that spot deep inside just enough while his fingers flicked her clit just right and she came again, screaming his name against his lips.  Steve finally came right after her with a raspy, loud moan, filling her so much that his cum flowed from between them, making a mess on the bed.  The broiling pain and pleasure finally dimmed in Y/N’s body, and she slumped against the bed in exhaustion.  She almost passed out, and on the edges of her consciousness felt Steve kiss her cheek before pulling out of her.  He left for only a moment before she felt the bed dip and a warm washcloth against her core as he cleaned her up, wiping up what he could from the bed.  A few moments later he was climbing into the bed with her again, pulling the blanket up to cover her and him as he pulled her into snuggle against him.  “Rest honey…my wife,” he whispered in her ear. 

[ellswritings]

Snowflake

Tony Stark x Shy!Reader

TW: Tony just loves to tease, tooth rotting fluff, that’s it.

。✯ ＼｜／。✯ ＼ ｜ ／✯ 。✯ ＼ ｜ ／✯ 。

The hum of Stark Tower’s AI system was the only sound in the lab as Y/N L/N worked tirelessly over a holographic display of molecular water structures. Her brows furrowed, strands of hair falling into her face as she pushed her glasses back up her nose. The calculations on the display glowed faintly against her features, showcasing her incredible mind at work.

Tony Stark leaned against the doorframe, his signature smirk in place. He’d been watching her for a good five minutes, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Her focus was admirable, but her shy, awkward tendencies made teasing her far too irresistible.

“So, Ice Queen,” Tony’s voice cut through the quiet, making Y/N flinch and nearly drop the stylus in her hand. “What groundbreaking discovery are you cooking up? Let me guess—cure for global warming?”

Y/N turned, her cheeks instantly flushing. “Uh…well, no. It’s a hydrodynamic flow algorithm for the turbine system in—”

“Whoa, slow down, Einstein,” Tony interrupted, stepping further into the room. “Leave some brainpower for the rest of us mortals.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, a mixture of flustered and defensive. “You’re hardly mortal, Mr. Stark,” she said softly, her tone polite yet carrying a tinge of unintended sass.

Tony’s smirk widened. “Touché. But you’ve gotta call me Tony, sweetheart. We’ve been over this.”

She ducked her head, pretending to fiddle with the hologram again. “Sorry, Mr.—I mean, Tony.”

“Better.” He sauntered over, examining her work over her shoulder. “Impressive. Didn’t think I’d meet someone who could out-nerd Bruce.”

Y/N’s ears turned pink at the compliment. “I wouldn’t say that. Dr. Banner is much more experienced.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, his tone light but probing. “Modest and brilliant. Dangerous combo. You know, most people would jump at the chance to talk about themselves to me. But you? You’re like a human enigma wrapped in an ice cube.”

She blinked, unsure if that was supposed to be a compliment. “I…I don’t like talking about myself much.”

“That, I’ve noticed,” he replied. “So, what do you do for fun, Snowflake? Build ice castles? Freeze annoying neighbors?”

Her gaze darted to him, horrified. “What? No! I’d never—”

“It’s a joke,” Tony said quickly, raising his hands. “Relax, Elsa.”

She bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. “You’re mean.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he shot back without missing a beat.

Y/N froze, her cheeks flaming as she avoided his gaze. “I-I don’t know about that.”

“Trust me, kid. I know,” Tony said, his voice softening slightly. He pulled up a stool beside her, his demeanor shifting. “Look, Y/N, you’re part of this team for a reason. Not just because you’re smart—or because you can create a snowstorm on command—but because you’ve got heart. And, newsflash, that’s something most of us are still working on.”

She looked at him then, her eyes wide with surprise. “You mean that?”

“Do I look like the kind of guy who says things he doesn’t mean?” he asked, then grinned. “Okay, bad example. But yeah, I do.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Thanks, Tony.”

“Anytime, Snowflake.” He winked, standing up. “Now, finish your work so we can test this thing out. And maybe—just maybe—you can make me an iced coffee. On the rocks.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, her anxiety easing just a bit as he left the lab with his usual flair. For the first time, she felt like she might actually belong here—with all her quirks, powers, and insecurities.

。✯ ＼｜／。✯ ＼ ｜ ／✯ 。✯ ＼ ｜ ／✯ 。

Y/N loved mornings in the tower—quiet, peaceful, and hers alone. She stood in the kitchen, flipping pancakes, her movements meticulous. The scent of warm batter filled the room, a rare comfort in her otherwise anxious world.

That comfort shattered with Tony’s arrival.

“Morning, Ice Queen,” he greeted, his voice startling her so badly she nearly dropped the spatula.

“Tony!” she exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest. “Don’t sneak up on me!”

He grinned, unrepentant, and leaned casually against the counter. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. You just looked so... focused. What’s for breakfast? Snowcones?”

Y/N groaned, unable to stop the blush creeping up her neck. “Pancakes,” she replied shortly, flipping another.

“Ah, the classic choice,” he said, inching closer. “Mind if I join you? Or should I worry about catching frostbite if I get too close?”

“You’re a terrible person,” she mutters, hoping the sizzling pancakes would drown out her stammering voice.

“And yet, you’re still making me breakfast,” he quipped, snagging a piece of bacon from the plate she’d set aside.

Later that day, Y/N found herself in the training room, her safe haven. She focused intently on her water manipulation, watching the liquid sphere hover effortlessly in midair. It twisted and transformed, flowing smoothly between shapes as if it were alive. The quiet of the room wrapped around her, and for a moment, her nerves were forgotten.

Then the peace was shattered.

“You know, I should start charging admission,” Tony’s voice rang out, startling her.

The water sphere wobbled, and before she could steady it, it splashed onto the floor. She let out a frustrated sigh, wiping her hands on her leggings. “Tony. Do you have to interrupt me everywhere I go?”

“What can I say? You’ve got this gravitational pull. Can’t help myself,” he replied with a wide grin, hands tucked casually into his pockets.

She turned to face him, crossing her arms. “Is there a reason you’re here? Or do you just like causing chaos?”

“Both, actually.” He stepped further into the room, glancing around. “But I was thinking, you’re always practicing the same thing—water this, ice that. Don’t you want to switch it up? Maybe try some hand-to-hand combat?”

Y/N blinked, unsure if he was serious. “Hand-to-hand? With you?”

“Why does everyone say it like that?” he asked, feigning offense. “I’ve got skills, Snowflake. Don’t let the suits fool you.”

She hesitated, shifting on her feet. “I’m not... really good at fighting without my powers.”

“Good thing I’m an amazing teacher,” Tony said with a wink. “C’mon. No gadgets, no waterworks—just you and me. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Y/N chewed her lip, her anxiety creeping in. The idea of sparring, especially with him, was daunting. She wasn’t exactly the most confident person when it came to physical combat, and the thought of Tony’s sharp wit only made her feel more self-conscious.

“I don’t know…”

“C’mon,” he said, his tone softening. “It’s just a spar. No pressure, no judgment. Promise.”

She hesitated for another moment before finally nodding. “Okay. But if I accidentally freeze you, that’s on you.”

“I like a little danger,” he replied, his grin widening.

They moved to the center of the room, and Tony started bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, his stance surprisingly disciplined. Y/N mirrored him awkwardly, trying to mimic his movements.

“Relax,” Tony said, noticing her stiff posture. “You’re not going into battle. Loosen up.”

She let out a shaky breath, forcing her shoulders to drop. “Okay. Now what?”

“Simple,” he said. “Try to hit me.”

Her eyes widened. “You want me to hit you?”

“It’s sparring, not a tea party. Go for it.”

Swallowing hard, Y/N threw a hesitant jab. Tony stepped aside effortlessly, his grin never faltering. “You’re holding back. Again.”

She tried again, this time aiming lower. He sidestepped and caught her wrist gently, spinning her around. “Not bad,” he said, holding her arm for a moment. “But you’ve gotta commit.”

Her cheeks flushed as she pulled free, trying to mask her flustered state. “I am committing!”

“Sure you are,” he teased, circling her. “Alright, now try to anticipate my movements. Ready?”

She nodded, focusing intently as he moved in closer. This time, she managed to block his initial feint, surprising him. He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.”

Emboldened, Y/N threw another punch, which he easily deflected, his hand brushing against hers. “Careful,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “You almost got me there.”

Her pulse quickened at his proximity, and she took a quick step back, trying to regain her composure.

“Don’t back down now, Snowflake,” Tony said, his grin turning playful. “I thought you were gonna show me what you’ve got.”

“I’m trying,” she mumbled, cheeks burning.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he quipped, clearly enjoying her flustered state.

The sparring continued, Tony effortlessly dodging and countering her movements. His casual commentary didn’t help her focus.

“You’ve got great form, but you’re hesitating,” he said, dodging another punch. “Is it because you don’t want to hurt me? Or because you’re worried I’ll keep making fun of you?”

“Both!” she snapped, before immediately clamping her mouth shut.

Tony laughed. “See? That’s the kind of honesty I appreciate.”

Frustrated but determined, Y/N threw a quick combination of punches, catching him off guard. One strike landed against his shoulder—not hard, but enough to surprise him.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, stumbling slightly. “Didn’t see that coming.”

In his momentary distraction, he lost his footing, and before either of them could react, they tumbled onto the mat. Tony landed on top of her, his hands braced on either side of her head.

“Well,” he said, his voice low and amused. “This is a plot twist.”

Y/N’s face turned bright red, her heart pounding as she stared up at him. “I-I—this wasn’t—”

“What’s the matter, Snowflake?” he asked, his grin widening as he leaned just slightly closer. “Cat got your tongue?”

Her breath hitched, and she quickly wriggled out from under him, scrambling to her feet. “I have to go!” she blurted, turning and practically sprinting toward the door.

“Wait, wait, don’t run!” Tony called after her, still lying on the mat. “I’ll let you win next time, I promise!”

She didn’t stop, disappearing around the corner.

Tony let out a laugh, propping himself up on his elbows. “She’s gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, shaking his head

。✯ ＼｜／。✯ ＼ ｜ ／✯ 。✯ ＼ ｜ ／✯ 。

Back in the tower after the mission, Y/N settled into the lounge, a fortress of technical journals stacked around her. She flipped through an article on cryokinetics, her brow furrowed in concentration, grateful for the moment of peace.

Naturally, Tony Stark couldn’t let that last.

“Evening, Snowflake,” he drawled, striding in with his usual swagger. “Still working hard? Or hardly working?”

Y/N’s fingers froze on the page. She glanced up, already bracing herself. “It’s research,” she said, her voice steady despite the way her stomach twisted.

“Research,” Tony repeated, dropping into the chair across from her. “Ah, the language of geniuses. What is it this time? The science of making things colder? Or maybe,” he leaned in, smirking, “how to break hearts without realizing it?”

She sighed, attempting to focus back on the article. “It’s cryokinetics. And I don’t—what?”

“You heard me,” he teased, gesturing vaguely. “You’ve got this whole mysterious, shy thing going on. Bet you broke a lot of hearts back in school, huh?”

Her face went crimson. “I didn’t—no, that’s ridiculous. I was...focused on other things.”

“Like freezing stuff,” Tony guessed, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Yes, like freezing stuff,” she muttered, feeling her composure slip.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “Hey, no shame in that. Everyone’s gotta have a hobby. Mine’s making billion-dollar suits and charming the pants off my coworkers. What’s yours? Besides the obvious.”

Y/N set her journal down and looked him in the eye, determined to hold her ground. “Reading,” she said firmly. “And no, you’re not charming me.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, really? Not even a little?”

“Not even—” she began, but his grin widened, throwing her completely off track. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“Like what?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, utterly pleased with himself.

“Like you’re trying to...I don’t know!” she stammered, throwing her hands up.

Tony laughed, leaning forward again. “C’mon, Snowflake, give me something to work with here. You’re fun to fluster.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, attempting to muster some courage. “Well...maybe you’re too easy to charm,” she shot back, trying to sound bold.

Tony blinked, surprised by her attempt to flirt, before bursting into laughter. “Nice try. But you’re blushing so hard you’re about to melt your own ice powers.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible to resist, maybe,” he quipped, watching her from across the table. “So, what’s next on your reading list? Something fun? Or more... light reading?”

“Quantum mechanics,” she replied, grateful for the chance to redirect the conversation.

Tony gave a low whistle. “Heavy stuff. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re, what, a walking library of science and history? Bet you could beat me at Jeopardy.”

Y/N dared a small smile. “I could.”

“There’s that confidence I like to see,” he said, leaning closer. “Careful, though. You’re giving me ideas.”

“I-Ideas?” she asked, her cheeks flushing again.

“Oh, you know,” he said, waving a hand. “Ways to fluster you even more. It’s like a science experiment—what happens when Stark annoys the ice queen?”

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Instead, she sat there, staring at him, her heart pounding as her brain scrambled for something—anything—to say.

The silence stretched until Tony raised an eyebrow. “Have I rendered you speechless? Or are you planning something?”

Y/N’s eyes darted to the journal, then back to him. Her hands fidgeted nervously, but something about his smug grin made her snap. Without letting herself overthink, she stood abruptly, circled the table, and leaned down to press her lips to his.

It was a quick, shy kiss, more like a brush of their mouths, but it was enough to silence Tony completely. She pulled back just as fast, her face blazing as she stammered, “G-Goodnight, Tony,” and bolted from the room.

Tony sat frozen for a moment, the sensation of her lips still lingering. Slowly, a grin spread across his face, and he jumped to his feet.

“Wait a second!” he called, jogging after her. “You can’t just kiss me and run! That’s my move!”

Y/N’s laughter echoed down the hallway, making him smile even wider.

“Snowflake, you’re full of surprises,” he muttered under his breath, utterly smitten as he followed her retreating figure.

[sycamorelibrary754]

The Doting Tree

Summary: During your visit to your grandmother at her assisted living community, you learn that Bucky has been regularly volunteering there as a part of his therapy sessions with Dr. Raynor.

Pairings: Bucky x Platonic reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: None

A/N: Who doesn't want to see Bucky healing?

"Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Stark requests your presence in his lab," Friday announced, pulling you out of your intense focus.

"Can it wait, FRIDAY? I'm swamped with overdue mission reports here," you replied, shuffling through the stack of papers on your desk.

“Mr. Stark says you have a phone call,” FRIDAY responded.

“A phone call?” you asked, puzzled, picking up your phone. “No, I don't.”

“In his lab, Ms. Y/L/N,” FRIDAY said.

"Okay,” you said as you rubbed your tired eyes. “Tell him I'm on my way.”

Walking into Tony's lab, you found the genius hunched over his desk, tinkering with one of his holographic interfaces. His phone was propped between his ear and shoulder.

“Really? I had no idea,” Tony said with a surprised look. “Y/N is so at ease on the motorcycle you would never know she didn't learn to ride a two-wheeler until she was nine.”

Your eyes widened. "Oh my God. Who are you talking to?" 

"One moment, ma'am," Tony said before placing the phone against his chest.

"It’s your grandmother," Tony said. "She called the front desk trying to reach you, and they patched her through to me." 

"What? Why didn't they call me?" you said, reaching for the phone as Tony pulled it away. 

"Because this is way more fun," Tony smirked. 

"Gimme the phone!" You snapped.

Tony placed a hand on your forehead to hold you at arm's length like an annoying older brother while putting the phone back to his ear.

"Y/G/N, your granddaughter just walked in. So, I’m going to pass you over to her," Tony said. "No, don't be silly. It's no problem. I enjoyed talking with you, too. Feel free to call back anytime. My pleasure, ma'am. Bye-bye."

You sighed as the billionaire finally handed over his phone, walking back toward the pane-glass windows for some privacy.

"Hi, Grandma," you chirped.

"Hello, dear, so good to hear your voice," your grandmother said.

"How did you end up on the phone with Mr. Stark?" you asked.

"I accidentally deleted your cell phone number, but your mom has your workplace down on this list she made, so I called information and then was connected to your lovely boss," your grandma explained.

"Ah, I see. Well, he’s not technically my boss, more like an annoying man-child who pays for everything," Smirking back at Tony and sticking your tongue out.

Your grandma asked, 'What is this I hear about you riding a motorcycle?”

"Oh, no need to worry. I’m a professional, and it's part of my job," you reassured her.

"Still," your grandma began. "I hope you're wearing a helmet."

"Always, Grandma, don't worry,” you fibbed. “So, how are you?” Doing your best to shift the conversation away from your dangerous life as an Avenger.

"I’m good, sweetheart. I'm just wondering when you're going to visit me. It's been a while since I’ve seen you,” your grandma asked. 

Your heart broke at her words. Your grandma lives in an assisted living community near the compound called The Doting Tree. You did your best to see her often, but the unpredictable nature of your work made regular visits difficult.

“I know; I’m sorry. Things have been hectic lately, and I just got home from a work trip a few days ago. How about I stop by tomorrow around noon?" you asked.

“That would be great," she exclaimed. "See you then!"

"Okay, bye," you said, hanging up Tony’s phone.

You gave Tony his phone back, and he handed you a hundred-dollar bill in exchange.

“What's this for?” you asked.

“I may be an annoying man-child, but even I know you treat Grandma like a queen,” Tony quipped with a wink.

*^~^*

The following day, you joined the rest of the team for breakfast. Wanda had made her special chocolate chip pancakes and fresh orange juice for everyone. You sat beside Bucky and began squeezing Maple syrup over your pancakes. 

Pepper set a plate in front of Morgan and sat beside Tony. "So, what's everyone got lined up for today?"

"Nat and I are getting the recruits up to speed," Steve replied, digging into his pancakes.

“That sounds interesting,” Pepper said.

"It would be interesting if they paid attention this time," Nat remarked, downing the last of her orange juice.

"I always paid attention," you declared confidently.

"Sure, Y/N, you ran those extra laps after training at Nat’s request just for fun," Maria teased.

"Yelena and I are off to an advanced obedience class with Lucky and Fanny," Kate said. "This week, it's all about the army crawling!"

"By the end of the training, they'll be more mission-ready than your little recruits, Natasha," Yelena teased as she cut into her pancakes.

Nat leaned over and flicked her sister's arm.

"Ow, son of a—"

"Language!" Steve interjected.

Yelena was about to retort, but then she caught Morgan's smile and shut her mouth.

"I’m supposed to meet with Secretary Ross, but I'd much rather catch the new Godzilla vs. Kong movie. Anyone up for it?" Rhodes suggested.

"I'm in!" Sam exclaimed. "How about you, Buck?"

"Can't make it; I'm tied up," Bucky replied, sipping his orange juice.

“Come on, man, how often do we blend in with the crowd?" Sam quipped.

"I can't, Sam," Bucky replied with a shrug.

"Your loss," Sam retorted. "What about you, Y/N?"

"I'd love to, but I promised my grandma a visit," you replied.

"That's thoughtful of you, Y/N," Wanda chimed in.

"Oh, that reminds me, guess who didn't learn to ride a bike until they were nine?" Tony butted in enthusiastically.

You rolled your eyes. “And that's my cue to leave," you said, getting up. "Catch you all later.”

*^~^*

You made great use of Tony's money by treating your grandma to a lovely bouquet of roses and a box of her favorite chocolates. When you arrived at The Doting Tree, the scent of Fabuloso greeted you, mixing with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee from the communal area. Passing through the lobby, you exchanged a warm smile and a wave with Joan, the friendly receptionist stationed behind the oak desk.

You knocked eagerly on the door of room 508, and the sound of your grandmother's footsteps grew louder before she swung open the door.

"Y/N!" she exclaimed.

"Hey, grandma," you greeted her with a smile. "These are for you," you said, handing her the roses and chocolates.

"Oh, you didn't have to, sweetheart," she replied, taking her gifts.

You hugged her and were instantly transported back to his childhood. Her warm embrace was a comfort you didn't know you were missing.

"Please, come on in, Y/N," she said as she broke the hug.

As your grandma whipped up a delightful batch of creamy, rich hot chocolate, the cozy aroma filled the room, enveloping you in warmth and comfort. You lost track of time, immersed in lively conversations and shared memories as you leisurely walked down memory lane. She asked about your work, and you carefully selected the most positive stories to share: the most recent Stark Gala and the Avengers community outreach efforts. You wouldn't dream of telling her about the near miss on your last mission when Nat's impressive scissor-leg neck grab saved you from a potentially fatal situation.

I can't believe how quickly time has flown by," your grandma exclaimed, glancing at the clock. "Movie night starts downstairs in fifteen minutes."

"Oh, in that case, I'll leave you to get ready," you replied, getting up.

"Nonsense," she insisted. "I'd love for you to join me. Tonight is Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, a classic from the Golden Age of Hollywood."

You quickly checked your phone and were relieved to see no missed calls or texts from Fury, Maria, or Steve.

"Great, I've never seen it, and I’m free for the rest of the day," you said.

"Wonderful, let’s go," your grandma replied.

*^~^*

When you and your grandmother arrived in the small community theater, the Doting Tree staff handed out popcorn and queued up the movie. You followed your grandma to two empty seats near the end of the row. 

Hi, Y/G/N, I was hoping to see you here tonight," the brunette woman with half glasses beside her confessed.

"I wouldn't have missed this for anything. You know Jimmy Stewart is my favorite!" your grandma proclaimed. "Oh, Betty, this is my granddaughter Y/N, she's one of those Avengers!" she proudly introduced.

You felt slightly embarrassed by the attention but extended your hand to Betty. "Hi, Betty. It's great to meet you."

"It's lovely to meet you, dear. Y/G/N has told me so much about you!" Betty said.

"All good, I hope?" you joked.

"Of course. I don't know how you all do it, but thank you for everything you've done."

"It's my honor, ma'am,” you said.

"Excuse me?" a man in a sweater vest behind you said, catching your attention. "I couldn't help but overhear. You mentioned you're one of the Avengers?" 

"That's right," you replied.

"Do you happen to know James? He's one of our volunteers. My buddy Walter swears he's an Avenger."

"James?" you asked, puzzled. "We don't have anyone named—"

"Alright, folks," a familiar voice interrupted.

"Bucky," you whispered to yourself in surprise.

Your friend stood at the front of the room, looking effortlessly stylish in a casual navy crew neck shirt, perfectly fitted jeans, and trendy sneakers. His beaming smile transformed his entire appearance, making him almost unrecognizable.

"Tonight's movie is one of my favorites, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington," Bucky announced, clapping his hands together. "Jimmy Stewart was one of my favorite actors when I was a kid."

"Not to mention Jean Arthur!" someone shouted from the back row, and the room erupted in laughter.

“Alright, Stacy, can you turn off the lights, please?” Bucky asked one of the staff members.

As the idealistic young Jefferson Smith was appointed to the United States Senate, your attention continually drifted to Bucky. You observed as he quietly passed a box of Nestle crunch bites down the row to one of the residents and whispered something to the woman beside him, who laughed in response.

*^~^*

When the credits rolled, and the lights came on in the theater, you lingered at the back of the room while your grandmother caught up with her friends. Perhaps it was the spy-like instincts that Natasha had instilled in you, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You were captivated by the transformation in his demeanor. The man who once seemed only to wear a scowl now appeared happier than you had ever seen him.

You walked over slowly as he was engrossed in conversation with a man you recognized as Richard Swanson. According to Joan, he was one of The Doting Tree’s oldest residents in time and age. Tall and slender, with a confident posture that hinted at a lifetime of discipline and care, he still boasted a thick mane of hair that belied his age. The strands, once a rich chestnut, now shimmered with a distinguished silver hue, the only overt sign of the passing years.

"What unit were you in, Barnes?" Mr. Swanson asked.

"107th Infantry Regiment, sir," Bucky replied.

"No kidding?” said Mr. Swanson. “I was in the 103rd."

"I remember that regiment," Bucky said, snapping his fingers. "You were guarding the Trisssana Bridge, right?"

"That's right," Mr. Swanson replied. “My cousin was in the 107th Regiment. Maybe you knew him? Tim Dugan.”

"Wow," Bucky sighed, his voice trailing off as he paused to reflect. "Tim Dugan. I haven't heard that name in almost 80 years," Bucky said, his eyes distant with memories. "I did know him. He was a good man," Bucky reminisced, a hint of wistfulness in his voice.

He was indeed," Mr. Swanson sighed, his tired eyes reflecting the long day he had endured. The elderly gentleman checked his antique pocket watch. "I've got to get going. It's almost past my bedtime," he chuckled softly as he patted Bucky on the shoulder with a sense of fondness. "See you next time, Barnes."

"See you, Mr. Swanson," Buck called out, his voice carrying a tinge of warmth and respect.

"Bucky?" you said softly, careful not to startle him as you approached.

He turned at the sound of your voice, his eyes meeting yours with surprise. "Y/N? What are you doing here? I thought you were visiting your grandmother today?"

"I am; she lives here," you explained, a gentle smile gracing your lips.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Bucky took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, the weight of his thoughts evident in the furrow of his brow. "Alright, look,” running his hand through his hair nervously. “Dr. Raynor thought it would be good for me to volunteer here. Spend some time with people from my generation," he said. "I resisted at first, but now..." he paused, looking around at the bustling activity of the assisted living community. "It's nice.”

"That's awesome, Buck. It's clear that the residents appreciate having you around, but why didn't you mention it to us?" You inquired.

"I just didn't want to deal with the inevitable jokes and questions from everyone," he explained.

"Oh, come on, Bucky. It wouldn't have been that bad. They would have been supportive," you reassured.

"After you left, Tony told the bike story and bought you a kid’s bicycle as a joke," Bucky deadpanned.

"Jackass," you remarked dryly.

"See," Bucky declared.

"But a supportive jackass, Buck. We all give each other shit, but at the end of the day, we're a family," you insisted. "Everyone would get it."

"Maybe," he mused. "When I'm here, I'm not an Avenger, The Winter Soldier, The White Wolf. Hell, I’m not even Bucky."

"I've noticed that, James," you said with a smirk.

Before he could respond, your grandma and her friend Betty strolled over to where you were standing.

“James, I just had to tell you how much I enjoyed tonight's movie. You have impeccable taste,” Betty said, touching his metal arm.

“Thanks a lot,” Bucky replied.

“Will you join us for our knitting class next week?” she asked eagerly.

“Work can be unpredictable, but I'm planning on it,” he responded.

“Wonderful!” Betty exclaimed. “I've been knitting a scarf for you, honey.”

Bucky blushed. “Oh, thank you. I can't wait to see it.”

"I see you’ve met James, Y/N,” your grandma said. “We’ve so enjoyed having him here the last few months.”

“Oh,” you said, looking between Bucky and your grandmother. “Yeah, I just had to come up and tell him how much I loved the movie, too.”

“Right,” Bucky said. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Well, I’m feeling a bit tuckered out, Y/N,” your grandmother said. I think I'll call it a night.”

“Okay,” you said. “I'll walk you back to your room.”

“Okay, goodnight, James,” your grandmother said.

“Goodnight, Y/G/N,” Bucky replied.

You turned back toward him before following your grandma out of the room and whispered, “Don’t leave. I'll be down in a few minutes.”

Bucky nodded in agreement.

*^~^*

As you stepped off the elevator and entered the lobby, the warm glow of the chandeliers illuminated the spacious communal room. Your eyes scanned the area, searching for Bucky. After a moment, you spotted him sitting on the plush sofa, engrossed in a copy of Lord of the Rings, which he had plucked from the nearby shelf.

Sitting beside him, you couldn't help but ask, "So, what do people think James does for a living?"

With a half-smile, he replied, "Well, those who don't know who I am think I’m a mechanic at that garage on Wilshire."

The image of Bucky as a mechanic made you chuckle, and you leaned in to hear more.

"The ones who do, like Mr. Swanson, don't give a damn about who I am or who I‘ve been," he continued, returning the book to the shelf. "All they care about is living each day to the fullest."

As you silently nodded, you reflected on his words, feeling the weight of the conversation settle in. "I understand, Buck," you said, patting his thigh. "I'm glad you're finding fulfillment here, and you can trust me to keep this between us."

"Thank you," he sighed, a sense of relief in his voice.

"Let’s go home," Bucky said, a hint of determination in his tone.

As you both said goodbye to Joan in the lobby, you stepped out into the refreshing early evening breeze.

"Alright, see you at home," you said, heading towards the bus stop.

"You took the bus here?" Bucky inquired.

"Yeah, just didn't feel like driving today," you replied.

“Want a ride? I've got Nat's motorcycle," he offered, nodding towards the bike.

You arched an eyebrow, "Does she know you have it?" You knew Natasha didn't just lend her bike to anyone. You had learned that the hard way during one of your early missions together.

"Yep, she allows me to borrow the motorcycle in exchange for helping with recruit training," Bucky explained as he slipped on his leather jacket.

"Alright, I'll take your word for it," you agreed.

As you were getting ready to hop on the back of the motorcycle, you spotted the extra helmet hanging on the back. 

“Really?” Bucky quipped. “You never wear a helmet out in the field.”

“I know,” glancing back at The Doting Tree, “I just want to keep a promise to my grandmother,” you said with a smirk.

“Good call,” he replied with a grin.

You fastened the helmet and hopped on the back of the bike, wrapping your arms around Bucky’s waist. With a twist of the throttle, the bike roared to life as Bucky revved up the engine. Together, you both zoomed out of the parking lot, heading back toward the compound with a newfound sense of camaraderie and understanding.

[robin-evry]

Heeeyyyyy~ it’s a me again, so just watched the Transformers one movie, and it got me thinking of what would happen if Yuu was a cybertronian/Transformer? Like alien robot that Can transform into a vehicle isekaied to a magic School? Imagine the fun! the chaos! They can pick up the overblot students and put them in air jail like a misbehaving cat! Ortho finally has a bestie!!!!

Sure thing, ask and you shall receive

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐘𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐍 👾🤖

Cybertronians are a species of autonomous robotic organisms originating from the distant planet called Cybertron that had their essences transferred into robotic bodies known as "Transformers".

Cybertronian!Yuu one of by far most unique students ever, they tower over most of the students. By cybertronian!yuu has received some modification in twst that helps them fit in the world more.

They can partially transform parts of their body into mechanical tools, like shields, scanners, or even small weaponry. This ability has led to some interesting duels in combat class, where they improvises with forms no one expects.

Cybertronian!Yuu sees magic as something like a digital matrix, with each spell having its own “source code.” While they may struggle with traditional spellcasting, Cybertronian Yuu can often rewrite spells or make unique modifications, leading to unexpected effects. This adaptability often puts them at odds with teachers, yet impresses friends like Ace and Deuce.

Cybertronian!Yuu can store and retrieve a ton of information like a living database, sometimes glitching and blurting out random trivia. Ace and Deuce find it hilarious, but it occasionally becomes handy, especially during exams.

Do you know the meme of the song I woke up in a new Bugatti, that's the first year riding on cybertronian!yuu on their transformation form. They have become their friends chauffeur around school pretty much everywhere.

Ortho + Cybertronian!Yuu : robot besties.

NRC tend to call them both a “tech wiz.” They often exchange “upgrades” and tech secrets, and Ortho even helps Cybertronian!Yuu unlock hidden Cybertronian features that they were previously unaware of. They’re like the school’s tech-savvy duo, making Idia’s life easier and sometimes scaring him with their synchronized techno-speak.

Cybertronian! Yuu has an “echo mode” that lets them record and replay sounds, which Rook finds utterly fascinating for tracking creatures or investigating mysteries. Sometimes, they use it to replay people’s voices, teasing Ace or copying Riddle’s strict tone. Grim once caught them imitating the Headmage and nearly exposed them!

Their system has an auto-translate function for languages, magical runes, and even animal sounds, making them NRC’s unofficial interpreter. This skill shines with Sebek, who tries to one-up them in translating ancient text, and with Kalim, who loves hearing animal translations from the Spirit of the Dunes.

Inspired by Pomefiore’s focus on beauty, they develop a “glamour mode” that projects holographic outfits, allowing them to “try on” new looks with a simple transformation. Rook and Vil are fascinated by their ability to shift appearances at will, and Vil even pushes them to “update” their glamour mode regularly to keep up with fashion trends.

Cybertronian!yuu is very curious about the world around them, since originally back in Cybertron there wasn't any organic like plant-life. You can find them being curious and browsing things that find them interesting.

When seriously damaged, cybertronian!Yuu has an auto-repair protocol that initiates a regeneration process. This usually involves a “recharging stasis” where they power down for a few hours to restore internal systems by transforming into a metal box to repair any damages coming to their body and database.

They also have the ability to heck or connect themselves into different technologies, they can see through the technology database as well copying the abilities of the technology.

They discovers they can use holo-projections to mimic voices and create illusions. With Ace and Grim, Yuu pulls harmless pranks like projecting an image of Crowley, scaring students into thinking he’s around.

During battles, cybertronian!yuu possessed a wide range of arsenal weapons. But one of their favorite styles of fighting is basically running over the enemies in their transformation form.

Imagine overblot Azul laughing and yapping about something, and the next thing he got hit by a vehicle as well putting their enemies in time out.

[srslyblvck]

the devil you know, avengers

pairing: avengers x fem!reader

synopsis: the avengers seem really desperate as they come to you—the person who went under their skin like no one else to help them win against hydra. while they are walking on eggshells around you, you are having fun causing chaos.

warnings: mentions of y/n (maybe), blood, violence, gore

word count: 3.5k

chapter: 6/?

series masterlist

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ YOU WOKE UP FEELING better than the night before. The weight of your past still lingered, but you'd managed to shove it back into the shadows where it belonged. You weren’t going to let it consume you. Not today. Today, you were back in control.

The cuffs were still locked around your wrists, the familiar, metallic weight always present, always suppressing the power that constantly hummed beneath your skin. You never had a choice in the matter—one of the Avengers would have to unlock them for you when the time came. But it didn’t matter right now. You were used to them.

As you made your way to the briefing room, you casually let the cuffs clink together, the sound echoing down the hall. You knew it would annoy the team, which was exactly why you did it. Might as well make an entrance.

Sure enough, as you pushed the door open and stepped inside, the collective sound of groans and sighs greeted you. Tony was seated at the head of the table, eyes glued to his tablet, while Natasha, Clint, Bucky, Sam, and Steve were all scattered around the room, already deep into their discussion.

Without missing a beat, you made your presence known by dropping into an empty chair with a loud clink of your cuffs against the table. “Miss me?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you leaned back, folding your arms behind your head.

Tony didn’t even look up. “You ever enter a room without making a scene?”

“Why would I? Life’s more fun when you’re dramatic,” you quipped, tapping the cuffs together again, just to get on his nerves.

Clint shot you a glare, but it was more playful than serious. “Do you have to do that?”

You smirked. “Oh, was that bothering you? My bad.”

Steve finally stepped forward, arms crossed, looking as serious as ever. “Alright, let’s get started.”

Tony flicked a few holographic displays into the air with a casual wave of his hand. “So, as you know, our lovely friend here” —he gave a quick nod in your direction— “retrieved some decent intel from Hydra. Some of it’s encrypted, but we’ve already cracked most of it.”

You leaned back in your chair, eyes on the holograms. It was good to see the focus back on Hydra and not… well, not on you.

“Turns out,” Tony continued, “Hydra’s been working on something big. Bigger than we thought. They’ve got new tech—stuff we haven’t seen before. Weapons capable of destabilizing entire cities. It’s not just about targeting governments or military sites anymore. They want to cause mass chaos.”

Natasha leaned forward, studying the maps. “Their operations are spread thin, though. They’re pushing too hard, too fast. They can’t hold onto all this territory.”

“Which is where we come in,” Steve added, pointing to a section of the map. “We hit their key locations, cut off their supply lines, and cripple their command structure.”

“Sounds like a blast,” you said, leaning forward to get a better look at the holograms. “So, where do I get to have fun?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. “Your definition of fun tends to involve blowing things up.”

“And your point?”

“Nothing,” Tony said with a smirk, swiping at the display to pull up more detailed files. “Just making sure we know what we’re dealing with.”

The conversation flowed smoothly, and for once, you didn’t feel the weight of everyone’s attention pressing down on you. No one treated you any differently—at least, not much. Steve was still all business, Natasha was her usual sharp, observant self, and Clint, well, Clint never gave you a break. That was normal.

But Bucky… there was something in the way he watched you, something that wasn’t hostility. He wasn’t glaring. He wasn’t throwing daggers at you from across the room. Instead, he seemed… curious. Not pitying, not judging. Just trying to figure something out.

You didn’t like it.

So, naturally, you shot him a grin. “What’s the matter, Barnes? Finally come around to my charm?”

Bucky blinked, clearly caught off guard, and for a split second, he looked like he didn’t know how to respond. “No.”

“Well, that’s disappointing,” you said, leaning back with a fake sigh. “I thought we were making progress.”

Clint snorted. “You’ve got a weird way of measuring progress.”

“Progress is subjective,” you said, and that earned a few smirks from the team. You could feel the tension easing, and that’s how you liked it. Distractions. Jokes. Keep it light, keep it moving.

Steve pointed at another section of the map. “There’s one more thing. Hydra’s central hub for communications. It’s buried deep underground in a classified location. We’ve intercepted some chatter, and if we can hit that base, we might be able to knock out their entire intel network.”

“That’s our next target,” Natasha added, eyes sharp. “But we need to move quickly. Hydra knows we’re onto them.”

“Great,” you said, rubbing your hands together. “Can’t wait.”

As the meeting went on, you noticed something: no one brought up your past. Not a single mention of the files or your connection to Hydra. You knew they had seen it by now—they had to have. And yet, nothing. Steve didn’t ask. Natasha didn’t probe. Bucky didn’t push.

Maybe they were just giving you space, or maybe they understood that you weren’t ready to talk about it. Whatever the reason, you were grateful. You weren’t ready to deal with questions, and you sure as hell weren’t about to show any cracks.

By the end of the meeting, the team had laid out the next steps, and Tony was already preparing to crack more of the encrypted files. You stood up from your chair, stretching as you glanced around the room.

“Well, looks like I’ve got some time to kill before we go blow up a Hydra base. Anyone up for poker?” you asked, a grin spreading across your face.

Sam shook his head, laughing. “I’m not losing any more money to you.”

“Your loss,” you said with a shrug, heading for the door. “But don’t say I didn’t offer.”

As you left the room, you felt that familiar sense of control settle back into place. You were back to being you. The sarcastic comments, the cocky attitude—it was all armor, but it was armor you knew how to wear well. You weren’t going to let anyone see the cracks. Not now, not ever.

And if they suspected anything? Well, you’d just have to keep them guessing.

The next mission kicked off early the following day, and unlike the usual plan of sending you in solo to do the sneaky, chaotic work, this time the entire team was with you. It was rare for everyone to hit the field at once, but Hydra’s operation was too big, too dangerous to risk any mistakes. You didn’t mind—having the Avengers at your back meant more targets, more action, and of course, more chances to annoy the hell out of them.

The mission had been going smoothly, at least for the first part. The team moved like a well-oiled machine, each of you knowing your role. You were no exception, even if your powers were still suppressed by the cuffs locked around your wrists. But you didn’t let that stop you. Instead, you leaned into your usual brand of annoying commentary, letting your voice fill the comms with quips and sarcastic remarks to keep everyone on their toes.

"Any chance we can make this a little harder?" you muttered, flipping a Hydra soldier over your shoulder with ease. "I’m starting to get bored."

“Don’t jinx it,” Natasha warned, knocking out a guard with a swift elbow to the temple. “We’ve still got the hard part ahead.”

You clinked your cuffs against each other, deliberately irritating Clint, who shot you an exasperated look as he fired off a few arrows. “Are you seriously doing that now?”

You smirked, shrugging. “You know me. Gotta find some way to entertain myself while you all hog the fun.”

The team had split into two groups once inside the facility. You, Clint, Sam, and Steve were tasked with disabling Hydra’s weapon supply, while Tony, Natasha, and Bucky went after the intel. The plan was straightforward, at least for now. But you knew better than anyone that Hydra had a way of turning straightforward into a nightmare at a moment’s notice.

And it did.

As you and the others pushed deeper into the base, Hydra soldiers came at you in waves. It was fine at first—manageable. But soon, the corridors were swarming with them. You fought them off with every ounce of skill you had, but without your powers, it was harder to keep up the momentum.

“Guys,” Sam called from above, using his wings to stay out of reach of the Hydra soldiers, “it’s getting real crowded down here.”

“I’ve noticed!” Steve grunted, knocking out another guard as they just kept coming.

“Could really use a power boost right about now,” you muttered, driving your knee into a soldier’s stomach and slamming him into the floor.

“I’ll handle that,” Tony’s voice cut through the comms. “FRIDAY, release the cuffs.”

With a satisfying click, the cuffs around your wrists fell away, and instantly, you felt the rush of power flood back into you. The shadows around you twitched and stirred like old friends returning from a long vacation.

“Ah, much better,” you said with a grin as you launched into action. The shadows coiled around you like extensions of your body, yanking Hydra soldiers into the darkness before they could react.

“Show-off,” Clint grumbled, firing an arrow that exploded in a burst of smoke.

“Jealous?” you quipped, sweeping another soldier off his feet with a tendril of shadow. “I can teach you how to be cool later.”

“You wish.”

Despite the banter, things were heating up. Hydra wasn’t pulling any punches, and it became clear that they weren’t just trying to slow you down—they were trying to wipe you out. The team fought hard, but there were too many of them.

“Behind you!” Steve shouted suddenly.

You turned just in time to see a Hydra soldier charging at Clint with a weapon raised, ready to strike. Without thinking, you acted.

Throwing yourself in front of Clint, you summoned the shadows to wrap around the soldier’s legs, yanking him to the ground. But just as you moved to strike, a searing pain shot through your leg—a Hydra soldier behind you had gotten off a lucky shot with an energy weapon, the blast catching you in the thigh.

The impact sent you stumbling, your vision going white with pain for a split second. But you held your ground, gritting your teeth as you knocked the soldier away and slumped against the wall, one hand clutching your leg where blood was already soaking through the fabric of your suit.

Clint, who had been busy dealing with another guard, turned just in time to see what had happened. His eyes widened. “What the hell, man?!”

You gave him a strained smile, trying to play it off. “Just… you know. Thought you could use a hand.”

He glanced at the wound in your leg, his expression shifting from confusion to something almost like concern. “You’re hit.”

“Wow, you’re observant,” you muttered, wincing as you tried to stand up straight. The pain was sharp, but manageable. “I’m fine. Really.”

Steve appeared at your side, his shield held up to deflect another round of shots from the Hydra soldiers swarming around you. “We need to fall back. You’re injured.”

“I said I’m fine,” you repeated, trying to push the pain away as you summoned more shadows to keep the guards at bay. “Just a scratch.”

Clint raised an eyebrow. “You call that a scratch?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Despite the sarcasm, you could feel the wound slowing you down. Every step was agony, but you weren’t about to let the others see how much it hurt. You’d already saved Clint’s life—no point making a big deal out of the fact that you’d taken a hit for it.

“Alright, let’s finish this,” you grunted, waving the others ahead. “I can still fight.”

“You’re not going anywhere with that leg,” Steve said, clearly not buying your bravado.

“I can keep up, Rogers. Trust me.” You tried to push forward, but the pain flared up again, and you stumbled slightly.

Clint caught your arm, steadying you with a scowl. “Yeah, you’re not fine.”

“I’m still standing, aren’t I?” you shot back, though you knew you weren’t exactly proving your point.

Before either of you could argue further, Tony’s voice cut through the comms again. “Weapons system is down. We need to meet up at the extraction point, now.”

“Copy that,” Steve said, his voice tight. “We’re moving out.”

The team regrouped quickly, and despite your injury, you insisted on pulling your weight as you limped along with the others. Clint kept throwing you glances, like he expected you to collapse at any second, but you ignored him, focusing on getting to the exit before Hydra could regroup.

By the time you reached the quinjet, you were drenched in sweat, the pain in your leg pulsing with every step. You staggered up the ramp, trying not to let it show, but as soon as you were inside, you collapsed onto one of the seats, your breath ragged.

Natasha, who had been helping to cover the retreat, took one look at you and raised an eyebrow. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you muttered, wincing as you pressed a hand to the wound in your leg.

Clint shook his head, sitting down across from you. “They took a hit saving my ass.”

Natasha’s eyes flicked between the two of you, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something—probably some comment about heroics and recklessness—but she held back. Instead, she nodded and turned to help with the takeoff.

Tony was the last to board, hovering just above the ramp. “Alright, everyone in one piece?”

“More or less,” you muttered under your breath.

Tony glanced at you, his face hidden behind the mask of his suit, but you could practically feel his eye-roll. “Nice work out there. Try not to die before we get back, okay?”

“No promises,” you replied, leaning back as the quinjet took off, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain settled in. You’d taken a hit, sure, but you weren’t about to let it slow you down.

And at least Clint was still breathing.

That was a win in your book.

By the time the quinjet neared the Avengers compound, the adrenaline that had been keeping you going finally ran out. The pain in your leg had become a constant throb, and your vision blurred around the edges. You tried to shake it off, to stay focused, but the exhaustion weighed down on you like a lead blanket. Every breath felt heavier, harder to draw in.

“Hey, you good over there?” Clint asked, glancing at you from his seat across the quinjet.

“Yeah, just… tired,” you muttered, your voice quieter than you intended. “No big deal.”

But it was a big deal. You could feel yourself slipping. The room swayed, and you blinked rapidly, trying to stay conscious, but the darkness creeping in from the edges of your vision was relentless. You slumped back in your seat, your head lolling to the side as your body gave in to the exhaustion and pain.

“Uh, guys?” Clint’s voice came again, a little more urgent this time. “I think we’ve got a problem.”

You barely registered his words before everything went black.

When you woke up, everything was a blur of voices and movement. You were vaguely aware of someone speaking—Tony, maybe?—and the familiar sound of the quinjet’s engines humming beneath you. But you couldn’t move, couldn’t open your eyes.

"FRIDAY, check her vitals," Tony’s voice cut through the haze.

"Vitals are dropping," FRIDAY replied. "She's lost a significant amount of blood. She needs immediate medical attention."

There was a pause, and then another voice—Steve, calm but tense. "We need to get her to the medbay. Now."

You felt strong arms lift you off the seat, cradling you carefully but firmly. It wasn’t rough, but the movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through your leg, dragging you further out of the fog.

"Barnes, you’ve got her?" Tony asked, and you felt a shift in the air around you.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, his voice steady. "I’ve got her."

Bucky’s metal arm was cool against your skin, and despite the haze, you could feel how careful he was with you. He wasn’t his usual stiff self, the one who acted like you were a problem waiting to happen. This was different.

As the quinjet landed, Bucky carried you down the ramp, the world a blur of lights and voices around you. You weren’t fully aware of it, but you felt the rush of movement as the others cleared a path toward the medbay. You heard Steve barking orders, and then Tony was there, walking alongside Bucky, his voice calm but serious.

"Get Helen Cho on standby," Tony said to FRIDAY. "We need her in the medbay ASAP."

Your vision swam again, and for a moment, you lost track of time. When you came to, you were lying on a medbay bed, the cold metal of the table beneath you strangely comforting. The hum of machines filled the room, and the faint scent of antiseptic told you that you were in safe hands.

When you finally woke up, it took a second to remember where you were. The medbay was quiet, save for the faint beeping of a monitor nearby. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the bright lights above you, and then turned your head to the side.

Dr. Helen Cho stood nearby, looking through a tablet, her brow furrowed in concentration. You recognized her immediately, even through the post-mission haze. She had a reputation for being the best in her field, but right now, she just looked incredibly focused—and, if you were being honest, annoyingly attractive.

You grinned, the familiar cocky smirk returning as you found your voice. “Well, this is a nice way to wake up. Did you personally request to treat me, or is that just a bonus?”

Helen glanced up from her tablet, her expression changing from professional focus to a sly smile. “You’re awake, then. Good. I thought you might’ve decided to sleep through the whole thing.”

“I figured I’d give you a chance to admire my rugged good looks while I was out,” you said, your tone teasing as you leaned back into the pillow. “But I’m happy to keep you company now that I’m awake.”

She chuckled, setting the tablet down on the counter beside you. “I’ll admit, you’re not the worst patient I’ve had. But maybe save the flirting until after I’m done making sure you’re not going to bleed out.”

You raised an eyebrow, ignoring the dull ache in your leg. “Who says I can’t multitask? I can flirt and recover at the same time. You know, efficient use of my talents.”

Helen shook her head, clearly amused. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“I try,” you said, flashing her a grin. “Gotta keep things interesting around here. Though I’d be happy to hear your assessment of my… condition. I’m sure you’ve seen worse, but I bet I look really good while injured.”

She leaned over you, mockingly serious for a second. “Oh, no doubt. The blood really brings out your eyes.”

You were about to fire back another comment when the door slid open, and Bucky walked in, clearly not in the mood for banter.

“Alright, lovebirds, that’s enough,” Bucky said, raising an eyebrow at the two of you. “This is a medbay, not a date.”

You glanced at him with a smirk. “Jealous, Barnes?”

Bucky crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Please. I’m just here to make sure you don’t annoy the person who’s keeping you alive.”

Helen chuckled softly and stood back up, her expression turning more professional. “She's fine now. The wound was clean, no permanent damage. Just need to stay off her feet for a while.”

Bucky shot you a knowing look. “Hear that? That means no running off. Doctor’s orders.”

You raised your hands in mock surrender, trying not to wince at the soreness in your leg. “Fine, fine. I’ll take it easy.”

“Good,” Bucky said, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Because I don’t feel like dragging your unconscious body back to the med bay again anytime soon.”

Helen smiled at you, a teasing glint still in her eyes as she picked up her tablet. “I’ll leave you in Bucky's capable hands, then.”

You nodded, closing your eyes as the exhaustion finally caught up to you. You’d done your part, and for now, that was enough.

Before sleep fully claimed you, you couldn’t resist one last comment.

“Hey, Barnes?”

He stopped, turning back. “Yeah?”

“Tell Helen she can come check on me anytime.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Get some sleep.”

And with that, you drifted off, a satisfied smirk still on your face.

dividers by @dollywons

[raisin-writes]

Asking to paint their nails- Donquixote family:

sfw, no warnings, just for sillies :) read as platonic but can also be read as romantic (minus sugar- i dont care that shes 22- and dellinger, dont be a weirdo).

Doflamingo:

He prefers to call in a nail tech and have a little mani-pedi spa day with you instead.

It's nothing personal, he appreciates the thought, but if hes gonna get his nails done, he wants it to be professional.

Wants you to match with him more often than not and gets a little mad when you refuse to, but wont hold it against you for very long.

A classic french tip girlie but may mix it up with a nice pink or a light glitter overlay from time to time.

Trebol:

He'll allow it, but god does he make it an insufferable experience.

He loves messing with you by intentionally making his hand twitch/flinch/shake.

"Bweheheheh! oops, guess you gotta start over now!"

He'll finally stop when you threaten inform him that you only have so much nail polish remover left and he'll end up with messy, ugly, clumpy nails that you wont be able to fix.

He's fine with whatever you give him, just dont make it look stupid.

Diamante:

Absolutely!

He's tickled that you would want to spend time with him like that.

Requests things like flashy white or gold stars, sparkly reds, or a nice baby blue to match his eyes.

A little bit of a stickler about your technique, but he wont be too hard on you if you mess up.

It's just nail polish after all.

Surprisingly will want to paint yours in return to match his.

His technique is ironically not that great.

Pica:

...... Reluctantly agrees.

He's silent as he watches you work, but his gaze is very intimidating and scrutinous.

Kind of a mouth breather, dont comment on it or he'll get mad at you.

If you ask him very nicely, he'll let you experiment on his toe nails, painting them however you want.

He's satisfied with a simple matte dark purple, but his favorite is a metallic gold- not the regular nail polish, but the holographic powder, he likes the shiny chrome finish.

Vergo:

Some days he'll say yes, sometimes its just not a good time.

He's a busy guy, he doesnt have all the time in the world to sit down and let you fiddle with his nails.

Sometimes he just doesnt want his nails painted and thats that.

On the off chance he agrees, he prefers a simple solid black or a plain white.

Giolla:

Yes, but she's such a karen about it.

So passive-aggressive and indecisive.

Makes you never want to paint her nails again.

Likes loud, contrasting colors and sometimes fun stencil patterns.

She usually compliments your work after its over, but will sometimes make a back-handed comment if she isn't completely satisfied with the results.

Lao G:

Surprisingly agrees to it.

However, shaky hands make for many mistakes.

Dont bother putting a top coat on.

regardless of the outcome, he'll give you a thumbs up and a "GREAT WITH A CAPITAL G!"

Gladius:

Bully him into it a little and he'll cave.

He's used to this, having been the test subject for a younger Baby 5 when she first got into nails.

At least you seem to know what you're doing, comparatively.

Prefers plain black but can be swayed into dark colored marbling with gold flecks.

Machvise:

Another test subject for young Baby 5's nail journey, and Dellinger's.

He thinks it's funny to walk around with bright, obnoxious nails, but really could care less what you give him.

He actually kinda liked the time you gave him pizza slice nails.

Draws the line at press-on nails.

Sugar:

Allows it, but will very bluntly tell you you're doing it wrong.

The best compliment you will get from her is, "its not the worst."

She likes when you put cute stickers and stencils on a pretty pastel blue color.

Señor Pink:

Needs to be lead to believe it was his idea, otherwise the answer is no.

Watches intently, doesnt speak much.

Sucks his pacifier suddenly from time to time and the sound in the otherwise silent room makes you flinch.

He doesnt have any preferences, but appreciates when you make the color match his bonnet.

Might make you do his toe nails too so they match.

Viola:

Of course!

Her favorite is a dark mauve with white hand-painted flowers on the thumbs and/or ring fingers.

Dont worry if you cant paint the flowers correctly, she still appreciates it all the same.

She'll ask to paint yours in return.

Dellinger:

Slay 💅✨

You can use his nail polish.

Teases you if you mess up but genuinely starts to get annoyed if you make too many mistakes.

Likes cat-eye and holographic effects; don't worry, hes got the magnets and powders for it.

If he's feeling generous, he'll return the favor, but he might give you what he thinks would look good instead of what you want.

Buffalo:

Nuh-uh, no way.

......... Unless?

Easy to bribe into getting his nails painted.

Lets you paint them however you want, as long as you fullfill your end of the deal.

Baby 5:

Yes!!!

She loves getting her nails painted.

She'll even paint yours, however you want them!

She likes lace tips, but can easily be swayed if you think something else would look better on her.

(Please be kind to her; if you really must, meet her in the middle so she still gets what she wants.)

Bonus:

Bellamy:

Beg him over the course of a week and he'll eventually cave, but only his toe nails where nobody will see them.

Prefers plain black or navy blue colors.

Is very fidgety and uncomfortable the entire time.

(ironically, he doesnt like people touching his feet (he's ticklish))

Groans and complains, asking every 5 minutes if you're done yet.

Such a big baby.

Corazon:

Yes!!!

He's giddy at the thought, he would love for you to paint his nails.

Really, he just likes the quality time he gets to spend with you.

His favorite is a dark plum color with soft pink heart stencils.

He'll offer to paint yours in return, but knowing him, he'll just end up spilling a bottle or two.

Or three.

[luxaofhesperides]

if you give a ghost a trauma: a parody fic

read on ao3.

Danny wishes to be sent someplace he could have a better family. Unfortunately, that lands him in a Gotham where tropes are made reality to the extreme. He really just can't catch a break. (or: a dcxdp parody fic where i make danny the only one able to see how bizarre things are. this does not help him in any way.)

. . .

“We’re gonna get you!” Maddie Fenton, a Bad Parent™ cries as she shoots her gun at Danny, her half dead son.

“No!” he wails, flying around as he dodges the shots. “I wish my parents weren’t trying to capture me for Evil Science Reasons! I wish I had a better family!”

“Lol, done,” said Desiree, snapping her fingers. 

Danny only has time to say Uh-oh before he’s sucked away into a magic portal and spit out into a dark and dreary city. In just the one second he’s there, before he even hits the ground, he hears gunshots, screaming, and the wailing of police sirens. Then he hits the ground and groans, releasing his ghost form to go back to being a human. 

“Where am I?” he asks himself, getting to his feet and looking around. The alleyway he’s in is empty and full of garbage just scattered around. Wherever he may be, it clearly needed to invest more in its sanitation department. 

He spots a fire escape on the side of a building and uses it to climb onto the rooftop, a totally normal course of action. Then he stares at the city, glowing with the street lights and neon business lights and a spotlight with the shape of a bat in it glowing on the clouds. 

“This might as well just happen,” Danny says, “My life is already so weird anyway.”

He stands there for some time, at a loss of what to do next. The wind is cold and brings with it a promise of rain, and from the looks of the dark clouds above him, it’s going to rain soon. Danny needs shelter, fast.

“Hey, kid, you okay?” says someone who snuck up behind him.

Danny shrieks and jumps, nearly going over the edge of the roof.

“Woah!” the person says, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to safety. “That was close!” 

Danny blinks up at his savior, then squints. This guy’s definitely not normal, since he’s wearing a domino mask and a lightly armored black suit with a blue bird emblem stretching across his chest. 

“Way to nearly kill him, Nightwing,” says a new person, dropping down onto the roof from the sky. This new person wears red and black, a pair of bandoliers crossing over his chest. 

“Well, I saved him, didn’t I!”

“Um, hi,” Danny interjects. “Thanks for grabbing me before I fell, but who are you?”

“You don’t know who we are?” blue bird asks rather incredulously.

“Do you think I’m asking just for fun.”

Red and black steps in with a smile. “I’m Red Robin, that’s Nightwing. We’re vigilantes trying to keep Gotham safe.”

Danny makes an educated guess that the city they’re currently in is Gotham. Not a city he’s ever heard before, but what does he know?

“Okay,” he says. There’s really not much else he can say.

“You never answered my question,” Nightwing says. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, just fine. No idea where I am or how to get home, but it can always be worse, you know?”

“Did you get lost?” Red Robin asks, pulling a holographic computer up from his wrist. Tucker would kill to get his hands on something like that. Danny wonders if he can get his own as a souvenir. 

“Something like that, yeah,” he replies. Another few gunshots ring out loudly through the streets, closer than they were before. Danny flinches, then ducks down a little, looking back towards the street apprehensively. “Um. You guys gonna do anything about that?”

The two vigilantes shrug, as if that’s an acceptable course of action. And then a hand shoots up and grabs the edge of the roof by Danny’s foot, making him jump in the air. Nightwing catches him yet again and moves him away from the ledge. 

A red helmet, leather jacket wearing guy built like a pro-wrestle hauls himself up the roof easily. There are guns tucked into holsters on his thighs and a red, block bat stuck on his chest. 

“Should I be concerned,” Danny says blankly. 

“Nah, it’s just Red Hood,” Red Robin replies, “The only person he ever tries to kill is me.”

“Cause you’re a replacement. And also, get over it, that was ages ago We’re good now. I haven’t even had a Pit Rage episode in months!”

“So the bullets you shot at me last week were just for fun?”

“Yeah, and they were rubber, so it’s not like you would have gotten hurt.”

Danny takes a few steps closer to Nightwing, hiding behind him. He’s getting bad vibes all around from that guy. 

“Tch,” a new voice says right behind Danny, making him flinch. A young boy with a sword steps out from behind him and joins the crew of vigilantes just hanging out on the roof. “As if he’s even worth that much attention.”

“Hello to you too, Demon Brat,” Red Robin says.

“How many of you are there?” Danny asks. “Don’t you need to like, protect the city?”

“Batgirl and Spoiler are working on it,” Nightwing says.

“We’re doing what?” another voice says, and a energetic blond girl dressed in purple armor hops onto the roof, tucking her grappling hook away. Following her is another person in all black, face fully covered, with stitches covering the mouth portion to make it seem as though they can’t talk. The person leaves the blond girl behind to head straight to Danny, making him take a few nervous steps back. 

“Dead,” she says, poking his chest with a finger.

Is that a threat? It feels like a threat. 

“No?” he tries. 

“What are you talking about, Batgirl?” Red Hood interrupts. “We all know the only dead person here is me.”

Everyone promptly groans, telling him to shut up about it and go one night without mentioning his death. 

Okay, that seems concerning! Is he another halfa? Is he like Vlad? Danny’s going to be so mad if he got dropped into another world directly into the hands of another Vlad. 

“You’re dead?” he asks, leaning away from Batgirl as she pokes him once more. 

“Yeah.”

“Same hat?” Danny tries, squinting at him.

“The fuck?” is the answer, which tells him that he probably doesn’t know what Danny’s on about. There’s still a 6% chance that he’s just lying to make Danny look like a fool, though. 

6% is more than 5%, which means it’s enough for him to just act on instinct and walk right up to the gun-wielding Red hood. He tries to consciously use his ghost sense, which is an odd feeling that reminders him of the moment before he hiccups. 

A light blue mist wafts out his mouth. 

Yep, the rumors are true: this man is dead.

“Once, again,” Red Hood says, “The fuck?”

“Seconded,” Nightwing adds.

“Third!” Spoiler joins in. 

Danny takes a page out of Batgirl’s book and pokes Red Hood’s chest. It’s very solid, only hard muscle, and reminds him a bit of Dan. That’s never a good sign. Something about Red Hood is making his skin crawl though, a sense of wrongness that sets alarm bells ringing in the back of his mind. 

“Did you come back instantly when you died?” he asks.

The white lenses of Red Hood’s helmet turn neon green. “Why the fuck are you asking me that.”

“Just checking. The green I’m seeing right now is making me think you’re a halfa.”

“What’s a halfa?” Red Robin interjects.

“An unlucky soul like me,” Danny responds, distracted. He lays his palm flat against Red Hood’s chest. The vigilante holds still, as if frozen, letting Danny do as he please. The ectoplasm he feels in other ghosts is usually calm, made unique by the personality of the ghost it belongs to, but it doesn’t roil and try to hurt the host like the ectoplasm in Red Hood is doing. 

He pulls back and looks around at the circle of vigilantes surrounding him. “Can anyone answer how he came back? Where did he even find this must rotten ectoplasm?”

“Pit,” Batgirl helpfully answers.

“Pit,” Danny repeats. “Like a pit of death? Toxic sludge? Landfill pit gone evil? What am I working with here.”

“Lazarus Pits,” the little one with the sword says. “How do you know about them?” He then pulls out his sword and points it at Danny, ignoring the way Nightwing hisses Robin, no! 

His name is Robin? Isn’t that just Red Robin’s name? Did this Robin have a color added to his name as well? 

“I literally don’t, but if it’s green and weird, then it’s probably ecto.” He turns back to Red Hood. “I’m gonna take care of it now.” And then he shoves his hand into Red Hood’s chest, ignoring the alarmed shouts from the other vigilantes. They try to pull him away, but Danny goes intangible, making their hands fall right through him as he gets a good grip on the ecto, sending his own out in a steady stream to chase the rotten flow towards his hand, then yanks it out. 

It’s green and goopy in his hands, steaming slightly in the air. “Ew,” Danny says. “That’s nasty. You were just living with this inside you?”

Red Hood doesn’t seem to hear him. 

Red Hood takes off his helmet and stares at the rotten ectoplasm in Danny’s hand. Nightwing approaches him cautiously, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Hood? You doing okay? How are you feeling?”

“It’s gone,” Red Hood answers, shocked. “The Pit Rage. It’s gone. I haven’t felt this clear headed since before I died.”

“That must have sucked,” Danny says empathetically, then shakes the nasty ecto off his hand. It lands on the roof with a wet splat. 

Once again: ew.

“How did you do that?” Red Robin asks, crowding into Danny’s space. Batgirl slides up behind him, trapping him between them. 

“Did you not just watch me yank it out? It was easy. Anyways, y’all got jobs to do, and I got places to go. So I’ll see you never!”

He tries to fly away, but only manages to get a few feet before he’s pulled down by multiple people grabbing at him.

“What is going on here,” A low, gravelly voice demands. Yet another vigilante appears, gliding out of the shadows. This one is much bigger than everyone else, cloaked in darkness, with a helm that has two little ear things poking out on top. 

“Batman,” Robin says, “This meta cured Hood of his Pit Madness.”

“I see,” Batman replies, looking Danny over. “Are you an orphan?”

What the fuck. Who just asks that?

“No.”

“Are your parents well?”

“Sure? My mom was pretty energetic while shooting at me before I came here.”

“You do not have to be unsafe in your home again,” Batman says, grabbing something out of his tactical fanny pack. “You can live with us instead.”

He holds out fucking adoption papers.

Danny backs up as fast as he can, shaking his head. “Oh, no! No you don’t! I did not trade one fruitloop for another!”

“No new brother?” Batgirl asks sadly. 

“Definitely not,” he insists. “No thank you! I’m fine as I am and fully plan on going home.”

Batman frowns. “You said your mother was shooting at you.”

“Yeah, and? The food in our fridge comes to life every meal and we have to fight it. This is normal for us. Chill out and put those papers away.”

The entire crew of vigilantes seems very put out with Batman obligingly puts the adoption papers away. 

“Yeah, I’m done here. Go back to protecting the city. I’m just gonna… go.”

Danny doesn’t wait for them to say anything else before flies away, remembering to go intangible this time. He soars through the polluted streets of Gotham, weaving between tall buildings made with dark stone and decorated with gargoyles. It’s all very dark and dreary, which means Sam would love it.

She would not be loving the pollution, though. Danny certainly isn’t. 

“I wish I could go home,” he says loudly, looking up at the sky expectantly. 

No magic portal appears to yoink him back. 

“I wish I was at home again, and not here!”

Desire does not appear to help him out. She leaves him stranded in Gotham, pouting at the sky until he gives up and flies down to sit on a new roof and angst about his situation. Hopefully this time a gaggle of vigilantes won’t bother him.

Resting his head against his hands, he sighs. Then again, and again, loudly. “Man, this sucks,” he says to himself.

“What’s got a kitten like you so down?” someone says behind him.

“I’m so tired of random people sneaking up behind me on rooftops,” he informs them without turning around. If they wanna talk to him, they gotta got to him, not the other way around.

“Ah, ran into the Bats, did you?”

They’re called Bats? But only two were Bats. None of the other vigilantes fit the theme. That’s just lazy and inconsistent. They should rebrand to something better.

The person walks over and sits down next to him. Danny glances over and is startled to find a woman in a leather body suit, with a hood that has cat ears and googles with an orange tint. 

…Is everyone in this city just dressed strangely at all times? Is this the normal fashion of Gotham?

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare. Who are you?”

The woman laughs. “Oh, so you haven’t heard of Catwoman?”

“Nope. No clue who you are.”

“Well,” she purrs, “A pleasure to meet you. I’m a thief.”

The dots connect in his mind. “Like a cat burglar!”

“Yes, like that.”

“Man, this city is wild and I come from a place that deals with ghosts on a daily basis.”

“So what are you doing in a place like this? Gotham isn’t kind to newcomers.”

Danny sighs, yet again, and tilts his head back to look up at the cloudy, starless sky. “I made a dumb mistake and got sucked into a magic portal that spit me out here. I have no clue how I’m going to get home.”

“Do you have a place to stay?”

He glares at Catwoman. “I’m not open to being adopted. I’ll just eat any papers you send my way.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she reassures, “I have no interest in being a mother. But I have a spare bedroom if you need it, and I wouldn’t mind teaching you a few tricks of the trade. It’ll be fun, messing with Batman.”

Ah, so she’s doing this for Trickster Reasons. Danny can respect that. 

And he also doesn’t have any other options. Considering how much gun violence and general violence he’s hearing in this city, he’ll probably be killed an embarrassing number of times just from trying to find a place to sleep on the streets for one night. Between cold, dangerous streets with storm clouds hanging heavy over his head or a guest bedroom in the home of a thief with a theme, there’s really no choice.

“If you don’t mind me hanging around, I’d really appreciate having a place to sleep until I figure out a way home.”

“Come along, then! I was just about to turn in for the night.” Catwoman stands up, stretches, then takes hold of the whip on her waist and snaps it out. She takes a running leap off the building, then throws her whip out to wrap around a billboard to swing across the street. 

Danny watches her go, then follows her lead, flying behind her, ready to catch her just in case. But Catwoman moves with ease, clearly experienced in recklessly moving through the streets, and makes her way to a highrise apartment with no trouble at all. 

They land on a balcony just as the sky rumbles with ominous thunder. Another second later, and the clouds open up and heavy rain begins to fall. 

Catwoman throws the door open and they both scramble to get inside before they get drenched. The lights flick on, revealing a stylish modern apartment, filled with art pieces and ornamental bonsai trees. A few quiet cries come from corners of the room, and then cats appear, one after another, moving around Danny’s legs curiously before turning to Catwoman. 

“That was a close one,” Catwoman says conversationally as she takes off her hood and googles, revealing her face. Her pixie cut is messy and her eyes are bright and sharp, just like a cat’s. “I suppose since we’re going to be working together from now on, that we properly introduce ourselves.” She holds out a hand for to shake. “Selina Kyle. I look forward to the trouble we’ll cause together.”

Danny stares down at her hand, then takes hold of it. Looks like he’s going to be a thief! Well, it’ll be a fun story for later. 

He doesn’t want his name attached to his new life of crime, though. And, he figures, this is a fresh start. New life, new name. There’s one that pops into mind immediately, and he latches onto it, ready to step into the world of crime. 

“Call me Neal Caffrey,” he says, shaking her hand. “I’m ready to start when you are.”

[roxannarichie]

THE ANOMALY | Miguel O’Hara

Chapter One: Willow-Dean

“It…she… isn’t… hasn’t even been bitten… by anything!” Lyla yelled confused, her knowledge about this anomaly was extensive. She had detected her weeks ago but quickly realized the difference from past anomalies. Absolutely zero attachment to any kind of supernatural activity or phenomena. Nothing. Then why did the system detect her as an anomaly?

“What?” Miguel questioned, also confused, he walks toward his computer screen while putting on his Spider-suit. There was no way— there has to be something wrong with her— something that have away that she didn’t belong in that universe. His fingers tapped quickly and softly his watch– he pulls up a holographic screen of information about the woman. As he read the information, he gave intense look.

Looking at his from his peripheral vision, “Lyla, how long have you known about this anomaly?” His voice was calm with a hint of knowing and depth. The pixels assistant chuckled, her guilt was evident.

“Well you see– Miguel, it’s” she stammered.

“Lyla…” Miguel said sternly.

“Three to Four weeks”

“Three to Fo– How does that make any sense! A month? You know the damages this anomaly could have caused to that multiverse!” He lectured. Everyone knew the damage but how could an innocent woman who was blissfully unaware of how out of place she was cause so much harm and how!?

“Miguel, I only did it to watch her and study her. She lives an normal life, she not even a superhero of ANY kind.” Lyla argued. In her defense, the system glitched when it detected this woman which cause Lyla to doubt if she should warn Miguel immediately. Instead she did her own research. He glared at her still not seeming to loosen up.

“She was born September 16, 1998, she was raised by her mother and grandmother. Her father died while serving in the military months before she was even born.” A pixelated sweat droplet rolled down her forehead. She didn’t not want Miguel to put her on “do not disturb” like he did last time. It was absolutely torture.

Miguel sighed in defeat, placing his thump and pointer finger on the bridge of his nose, “Dios, dame fuerza, okay, what is her name?” He scrolls through the anomalies file, not seeing a name.

“Willow-Dean Jones” She said proudly.

“…..Willow what?” Miguel twisted his face, it was an odd name, and not unique odd though it was unique, more like weirdly odd.

“Willow-Dean Jones”

“So Dean is her middle name—“

“No, it’s her first name–“

“I’m not understanding.”

“It’s a double— a double name have you not heard of double names?”

“Yes but her name is already odd—I don’t understand the point of a double— WHATEVER!” His frustration and annoyance was obviously, he typed her name into the file.

Lyla was excited, “Yay, are you bringing her here?”

“Where else would I bring her?”

“Yes! Finally, some female company, though Jessica is lovely, she is pregnant and sleep most of the time, and—“ She looked at Miguel with a smirk, “Possible a new lady friend for—“

“No” He replied quickly

“—you and it gonna be so much fun, we can talk about girl stuff and then We talk about—“ Lyla chattered ignoring the brooding spider.

“Lyla. No–“

“–how mean you are and– oh, maybe you two can get married!”

“Lyla– for heaven sake, I’m 32!”

“That is only a seven year differe—“

Miguel had reluctantly put her on “do not disturb” which he knew she despised but anything to get her to stop specking about the anomaly with the weird name.

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[kairiscorner]

when grump meets grump <3

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miguel x grumpy reader

now if there was anyone else feared upon in the spider society that wasn't named 'miguel o'hara', it was you. the moment you joined the spider society, everyone had a new face to fear.

every day was a challenge for the rest of the spider society, even jess and peter b couldn't go to your quarters without knocking and stating their name and business for coming there. if they wasted your time with an easy picking mission, or a bad joke, or at worst... a childish prank, they'd be squishes spiders in the next minute–or make that in the next five seconds.

you were serious about your job, no nonsense was allowed on your watch. you reminded everyone of a certain leader who was very particular with how things were run at HQ, and how fun was virtually dead when he was doing things his way.

but surprisingly...

"i hate him." you seethed as you clenched your fists, your eyebrows were furrowed as you scrunched up your nose, gritting your teeth. peter b spit out his coffee all over the table by accident, jess fetching a few napkins to clean it up.

"you... you hate miguel?" peter b asked, exasperated and... bewildered, if anything else. you nodded, slowly, as your eye twitched just the slightest at the mention of that damned man's name.

"he thinks he's the shit. honestly, what's wrong with him? why does he make everything about him? you've seen how he plans out the missions, he always delivers the finishing blow. he never lets anyone else do the work, it's always him, him, him!" you exclaim as you got up and threw the table down out of rage.

peter b yelped as jess grabbed him and brought the both of them to the side. they were... extremely surprised you didn't see eye-to-eye with miguel. they always believed that if they weren't miguel's closest allies, you'd be. but no. your rage and hatred for miguel subverted their expectations.

"so glad i never let them hold mayday..." peter b murmured. "well be glad if they don't hear you right no–" jess was telling him, until you turned your head with a scowl at them. "i could hear everything you two were saying, y'know." you warned them, which was their cue to leave.

you cooled down after a few hours, beating anomalies without anyone else holding you down or telling you what to do always hit the spot. but soon, the dreaded hour came.

a holographic image of miguel appeared on your watch, you tried your hardest not to look angry nor disgusted at the sight of him, even when masked. "report back to my office at HQ, we got a situation here." he said curtly, and before you could even ask what was so important that he had to call you, he hung up immediately.

you sighed and groaned in frustration as you opened up a portal to head back to HQ. the moment you stepped back into HQ, you were in miguel's office. you crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow.

"talk to me." you said in a monotonous voice as miguel turned around to look at you, confused. "why're you here?" he asked. you looked at him in disbelief. "o'hara, don't fuck with me. you called me earlier, dumbass." you reminded him, getting a little pissed off at him playing dumb.

miguel looked at you now in disbelief, turning around fully to face you as his platform slowly descended. you tapped your foot impatiently like a cartoon character. "last time i checked, you weren't from earth-8311. what's got you so impatient over nothing?" he asked in a tired voice.

you groaned. "you. you called me? jeez, i thought you of all people would know it's not hilarious to waste another person's valuable time with such stupid, insipid little pranks!" you exclaimed, angry, and a little embarrassed because miguel really did seem like he didn't know what you were talking about. could you have been wrong, for once in your life?

miguel put a hand up to stop your fuming self from framing him from any more allegations of him summoning you to his office. "i didn't call anyone, i was out fighting more variants of the vulture with jess and a new recruit. i didn't call for anyone else, except... dammit." miguel breathed out as he put a hand to his side and pinched the bridge of his nose with furrowed eyebrows.

"lyla!" miguel called for the ai assistant in an irritated voice. lyla showed up a little disheveled, she soon refreshed herself and came back looking more presentable. "what?" she asked as she looked at miguel, who looked at her a little... desperately.

"did you... did you call them?" miguel was asking lyla in a hushed voice, almost as if he did not want you to hear what they were talking about even if it concerned you.

lyla looked at miguel, then at you, then back at miguel, then back at you, then she smiled. she shrugged. "i did." she said in a cheeky, unenergetic voice.

miguel rubbed both of his temples and shut his eyes when lyla admitted she called you. you pit your hands on your hips and raises an eyebrow, still unsure of what was going on.

"but why?" miguel asked in a slightly nervous tone. "you know never to call their line unless... it's absolutely necessary." he reminded lyla, who laughed a little at that.

"i was just doing what you told me to do, test out your automated answering system for video calls. it was arbitrary, just so happened to call them with an automated response. no biggie." she said with a smile and a shrug as miguel looked like he was about to combust out of frustration towards her.

"so what is it? why'd you call?" you asked in an expectant voice, looking at miguel who tried to appear brave, but instead, appeared remorseful.

"i... i didn't call you here." he admitted, looking at you then back away. "lyla was testing out the beta stages of a project i have, um, it was an arbitrary choice, really, just so happened to call you by accident and didn't get to tell you it was a beta test. i'm sorry, for wasting your time and energy for coming here." he apologized.

your eyes widened as you looked at him. "you... apologized?" you asked with a tone of surprise. "you, miguel o'hara, apologized to me?" you asked incredulously as lyla was taking videos of this moment.

miguel put his hands to his hips, hung his head, and nodded. "yeah." he said with a click of his tongue as he looked back up at you. "i'm sorry." he said, and though it was hard to distinguish it from sarcasm or sincerity, miguel really was being sincere with his apology for wasting your time.

you stared at him, you refused to believe he was being honest. "and why would you apologize? i thought everyone here was expected to bow down to you, mr. o'hara." you asked, putting up your cold front.

"well... if you must know, um..." miguel stuttered, trying to find the right words, when lyla finally spoke up on his behalf. "your badassness scares him shitless. he hates having to piss you off because he wants to keep living." she said, and as miguel lunged forward to shut her up, lyla moved from one side of his to the other. "that, and he thinks you're super hot, so there. toodles." she said as she logged off as miguel was going to lunge at her again. he cussed under his breath as you took in what lyla said.

"is it true?" you asked him, your tone softening. he turned around to face you, and looked at you with a nervous expression. "do i... scare you?" you ask miguel as you approached him. he loomed over you, but you always found ways to subdue your opponents–miguel never wanted you to see him as one. in fact, he wanted you to look at him as the complete opposite, really.

"um... yes." he admitted, looking down at the ground. "but, you also find me attractive?" you ask, which sends a warmth through miguel's cheeks. "i... i kinda do." he mutters as he looks away from you.

you put a hand on his chin as you made him look at you, gently turning his face to look at you. "oh, well don't just look away from someone after you confess to them, that's very rude." you said with a joking air.

miguel looked at you, his eyes wide as he saw, for the first time, a playful look on your face that had no malice, no anger, no... grump in it. "i may be grumpy and serious, but that doesn't mean i'm heartless." you tell him as you squeeze his cheeks together.

"man, who'd've thought a big, commanding man such as you was actually scared of little old me? now that just makes me blush." you said with a small laugh as a rosy blush slowly appeared on your cheeks, miguel's blush deepening.

"so, do you... do you feel the same way?" he asks you, pretty hopeful of your answer. you shrug. "i did just admit to jess and peter b how much i hated the way you made everything in missions about you... but maybe you did that because you hate having someone telling you what to do. i hate that too, actually." you say with a grin.

"i kinda like the cut of your jib, o'hara. maybe... maybe you and i can come around to a compromise on our, well..." you trailed off as you searched for the right words.

"attitude problems." lyla chimed in as she disappeared just as immediately as she came in. miguel groaned as you chuckled. miguel smiled up at you. "yeah, maybe we can... take a break from being such grumps." he said.

"hey, you're the grump–i'm always the right one, you know that." you tell him as you give him a sly look.

"is that right now?" miguel asked sarcastically as he smiled at you.

maybe both of your grumpiness would only be a sometime thing now, hopefully.

tags!! @miguelswifey04

[greensagephase]

Valentine's Day (Nonviolent Communication One-Shot)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x SpiderFemaleReader (colleagues to friends to lovers; they're currently in their friendship era, so no romance but we still have soft Miguel!) Summary: Just a rainy Valentine's Day surprising your friends with baked sweets because Valentine's doesn't have to be only about romance. Word Count: 4,311 Short A/N: This is a one-shot for my Nonviolent Communication fanfic but can be read as a standalone. As I mentioned above, they're in their friendship era, so there's no romance, but Miguel lowkey got me blushing anyway soo! Warnings: None. Just reader and Miguel being their usual sweet and caring selves to each other. MasterlistSongs inspo: "Just the Two of Us" - Grover Washington, Jr., Bill Withers (I don't know why but this song just came to mind while writing this, so just look at it as a platonic song for now :) )

Spider webs shaped like hearts decorate corners. Holographic hearts are displayed at the cafeteria. Even some of the tables have little decorations, more than likely set up by a small group of Spider members that usually take time of their day to do things like holiday decorating within the Spider Society to make the workplace “fun.” As to the holographic hearts out and about, you imagine those have to do with Lyla, who has been all too excited about Valentine's because of her heart-shaped glasses.

You walk through the cafeteria, past occupied tables where fellow Spider members sit. A reusable bag hangs from your shoulder in which you carry baked treats. You've successfully handed out containers filled with them to the majority of your friends, with the exception of Peter B. and MJ, and Miguel. You continue to search for Peter B., certain that you’ll find him here. As you walk, your gaze turns to the windows. It’s a cold and rainy day in Nueva York, and it’s also Valentine’s Day, which prompts a memory to flash through your mind, one that you put away for now. You focus on your goal: find Peter B. and then Miguel.

You slow down as you hear Peter's voice from somewhere, so you look around until you spot him talking with another member, carrying Mayday like always.

“Alright, pal, I'll see you around,” he says with his signature smile, giving the other member a pat on the back before they part ways.

Mayday sees you first and immediately begins to wiggle around, making Peter notice you. He grins and the two of you meet halfway, Mayday already reaching for you. You smile and upon meeting them, you accept one of her hands and play with it.

“Good morning, Mayday,” you say, greeting her. She squeals in delight before repeating “morning” now that she’s speaking two-word sentences. It’s amazing how much time has passed, how much she has grown, which you don’t let yourself think too much about. Instead, you focus on her attire for the day. She's wearing pants and tiny boots, and best of all, a cute pink sweater with red hearts printed all over it, showcasing Peter's spider symbol in the center of them.

It's no longer surprising. Mayday's closet is filled with spider-theme clothes, which has made you wonder if Peter has his own merchandise creator. You feel like it would be a thing Peter B. would definitely have.

“Hey, you heard that? She said ‘morning’ - that’s another word!” Peter says happily. “Daddy is so proud of you, honey! Wait till MJ hears about this!”

You chuckle. “It’s amazing. Before we know it she’ll be speaking full sentences.”

“Okay, that just made me, like, really sad. She’s growing up too fast,” Peter says quietly, holding his daughter close to his chest. His gaze is gentle as he stares at her. “It’s part of life, I know, but…”

“I’m sorry to have brought it up,” you say gently as you give him a gentle pat on his arm. “Would some baked treats make it better?”

That seems to get Peter and Mayday’s attention. “Baked treats?”

“Brownies. For Valentine’s,” you say, pulling out a container and offering it to him. “I baked some brownies for everyone.”

“Totally feel better now,” Peter says with a grin, accepting the box.

”For you and MJ, and maybe Mayday if she can eat them,” you say. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“Happy Valentine’s! Hey, they’re even heart-shaped! MJ is gonna be so happy. You know we all love your baking,” Peter says as he gets one out and eats it. Once he finishes eating, he says, “So amazing!”

“Glad you like them! Make sure to save some for MJ, though,” you reply with a smile. “Have you seen Miguel?”

Peter looks around, closing the box of treats. “I saw him earlier. He was going to the Go Home Machine room to check something but he might be back at his lab already,” he responds. His gaze flickers to your bag, taking notice of at least two boxes left in there, though he doesn’t ask anything.

“Alright, I’ll go check if he’s there. I’ll see you in a bit,” you say, saying goodbye to Peter and Mayday for now.

“See ya!”

You walk out of the cafeteria and head to Miguel’s lab, reaching it in no time. You stop at the entrance and as always, you call for Lyla to have her ask Miguel if you can enter. You never walk in unannounced out of respect, even though Lyla has told you that you should stop. Even Miguel has hinted at it, at the fact that you can just walk in, yet, you do it anyway out of respect.

“Y/N! Miguel isn’t here. He’s at the Go Home Machine room. Something’s up with the machine but he should be done in a few minutes. He said you can go in,” Lyla says, appearing suddenly and floating in midair.

“You asked him already?” you ask, amused.

“Yep. I think he’s even going to send you a message because he thinks you might not believe me when I tell you he says to go in.”

And of course, right after she says that you receive a notification from your gizmo, alerting you of a new message. A message from Miguel.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Please wait for me * inside *** the lab.”

You smile softly at his emphasis to wait inside. He knows you too well.

“See?” Lyla says with a soft smirk. “So, come on in! I see you have the goods.”

You laugh softly as you enter the lab, carrying your bag with the last two heart-shaped containers you bought a few days ago to package the baked treats. The containers were easy to hide in Gabriel’s old bedroom, the same one that’s your current temporary room since your building caught on fire a few weeks ago. Luckily, your floor was spared but lower floors did not have the same luck. Now, the building is under cleaning and reconstruction, a process that will take at least two months to finish. Or at least that’s what your landlord said. You’ve been staying in Nueva York with Miguel in his penthouse after he offered his place countless times. He assured you that you were welcomed to stay for however long you needed to, whether that was days, weeks, or months. There was even a moment you swear he almost said years, before he stopped himself.

So, you’ve been staying at Miguel’s penthouse in Gabriel’s, a man that you never met and unfortunately will never have the opportunity to due to his passing, old bedroom. You’ve made his room yours for the time being, even encouraged by Miguel to decorate it as you wish to make it feel like home because as he said, “my home is your home.”

And so, currently living with Miguel meant that you needed to find a way to hide your little Valentine’s surprise. You thought about baking treats for your group of friends, including Miguel, last week, but you knew that you’d need to come up with a way to have Miguel out of his own penthouse in order to truly surprise him as well. You quickly came up with a plan and even got a little help from a certain AI assistant, who was all too happy keeping Miguel busy here at HQ last night while you baked. You thought about your plan well, so much that you even baked a cake and cookies as an excuse, so that whenever Miguel got home, he wouldn’t wonder why it smelled like baked treats when there were none in sight, since you planned on hiding the Valentine’s treats in your room, packaged and ready to go for today. And, it has been a success. You’ve surprised all your friends with a little something, as a gesture of how much you care about them. The only one left now is Miguel. You briefly wonder why you didn’t just give them to him at the penthouse this morning when the two of you were having breakfast. For some reason it felt right to leave his delivery for last.

You walk through Miguel’s lab, heading straight to his platform, deciding that you’ll wait for him there until he comes back. You take a seat on it and gaze around. Even from here you can hear the sound of rain, which sounds very peaceful. The silence and the pockets of darkness brings you comfort. You can’t help but find it amusing that over time, you’ve spent more and more time in Miguel’s lab. You recall the days when you hardly came in here. Those were days when Jess and Miguel called you in, usually whenever Jess was delivering a report to Miguel about a mission you and others had been on with her, asking you to go since you were her pupil. Now, you’re here every day, and not just once but multiple times throughout. You can easily spend two or three hours here while Miguel and you work on your own thing.

You smile to yourself. Life can really change.

The rain continues to go strong outside. You let it distract your thoughts for a few seconds, which reminds you yet again of a memory. Of a Valentine’s Day with your Peter.

It was the second before last Valentine’s Day you spent with him. It was also a rainy day in your universe. As always, you baked something for Peter since he loved your baking and cooking. You knew you could never go wrong with baked treats since they were his weakness. He, on the other hand, had a few plans up his sleeve. He always did.

You smile at the memory. He had planned a whole evening that included a restaurant reservation, but the day was cold and a rainy one, being February. It started raining at some point in the night and the rain didn’t stop throughout the day. There was so much rain that the restaurant had to cancel dinners due to flooding two hours before your scheduled reservation. It didn’t matter to Peter though. He asked you to get ready regardless, to take your time.

An hour and a half later, there was a knock on your bedroom door from Peter. As if he didn’t live there, or as if you didn’t share that bedroom, but you opened the door regardless with a smile.

And there was Peter, dashing as always. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, as if he hadn’t seen you a million times before, as if he was falling in love with you for the first time all over again.

“So, we had a little change of plans,” he said with a sweet smile. “But rain or no rain, we’re having a romantic dinner.”

“Don’t we always have a romantic dinner?” you asked softly.

“An extra romantic dinner, darling,” he replied, taking your hand and kissing the back of it with one of his hands.

You smile softly now as you remember that evening.

He held your hand and instead of leading you to the dining area, he led you to the small living room section of your apartment. The overhead lights were off. The only light in the area came from lamps and lit candles spread around the space. The scent of food filled the air, a sign that Peter had cooked. Soft music played in the background from Peter’s record player and of course, his choice was a vinyl of romantic songs. You had a feeling that the night would end with a dance in the living room. Your suspicions only grew as you both stepped onto a picnic blanket and found couch pillows placed around so that the two of you could sit comfortably. There was a vase in the middle with flowers and around it were things like linen napkins and utensils, two glasses for drinks, and everything else needed for a dinner.

Then, there was Peter, serving you a drink and dinner with flickering candles all around, soft music in the back as you talked. You remember telling him that his idea was lovely and sweet, that it would be unforgettable. The night did end with a dance, with your arms wrapped around his neck and his around your waist. You even remember the pit pat of rain against your apartment’s windows and how you could see the flash of lightning even through the curtains. You recall what it was like to dance with Peter. It wasn’t the first nor last time. There were times before and times after that night, all in your small apartment, the one that was supposed to be temporary after graduating from college. The two of you talked about moving to a bigger apartment, one that would be comfortable for a family, for children. Neither of you minded your apartment in the moment though.

You still don’t. Even if you’re alone now. Even if Peter has been gone for so many years.

“Happy Valentine’s,” Peter whispered that night as he held you close to his chest. His arms were warm and protectively wrapped around you, your back to his chest.

“Happy Valentine’s,” you say now.

“Happy… Valentine’s.”

You look up as you hear the voice, finding Miguel standing a few feet away from you at last. His gaze meets yours and you notice his head is tilted to the side slightly, watching you curiously. You blink, pulling yourself out of your memory and offer Miguel a small grin, one he returns instantly.

“You keep asking for permission to come into the lab. You don’t have to ask,” Miguel says as he steps closer, breaking the short silence.

“It’s out of respect. Besides, I see the way you get annoyed when members just walk in,” you reply, amused.

Miguel looks down at you with a soft frown, his lips in a small pout as if silently asking, ‘Really?’

“Yes, but -” Miguel pauses and sighs. It’s different. You’re different. You’re not just any member. You’re his friend. His close friend. His… Miguel clears his throat. “You… Are different. You know why.”

Yes, you know why. You’re friends. Close friends. He’s your… “Right, but I still like to ask. Just to make sure.”

Miguel’s frown deepens, he raises an eyebrow almost in annoyance, yet he can never be annoyed with you. Ever. “Right, just to make sure,” he repeats, raising his hands in surrender, giving up and realizing there’s no changing your mind about this. At least not now, Miguel thinks to himself.

“Anyway, I brought you something,” you say, standing up at last from his platform. His crimson eyes immediately fall upon your bag. He’s been too busy thinking about how you always ask for permission to walk into the lab that he failed to see the reusable bag near you. You close the distance between the two of you, stopping just a few feet.

Miguel wonders what exactly you’ve brought him but he doesn’t have to wonder for long when you pull out two small containers, pink and heart-shaped. You hand them to him with a warm smile.

“I baked a few treats for everyone. Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Looking at the small containers, Miguel accepts them. He can’t help but feel a little awestruck for a few seconds. When was the last time someone gave him anything on this day? He hasn’t celebrated in years. It was so long ago.

“I hope you like them. I baked a little special thing for you. It was my first time baking them but I think they turned out well,” you say, bringing Miguel back to the present. “Go on,” you tell him gently, excited to see his reaction to the second box’s contents specifically.

He nods and opens the first one. Heart-shaped brownies in the size of your palm greet his eyes. He can’t help but admire how you arranged them with cute baking parchment paper, going the extra mile to make him and your other friends feel special today. His lips curl into a soft smile and he feels a wave of heat rush to his cheeks. You baked brownies for everyone and you included him. A warmth spreads through his chest at the thought, the realization.

You stare at Miguel, his smile and blush not going unnoticed. The sight makes you smile.

“Thank you,” Miguel says as he keeps looking at them, the amazing smell reaching his nose. He already knows everything you baked will be amazing. It always is. His mouth waters just at the sight.

“Check the other box!”

Miguel grins at you and nods, closing the first book even though he wishes he could go ahead and eat one of the brownies, but your excitement over the other box deters him. He wants to see what has you so happy and anxious for him to see, so he opens the next box. His lips part and eyebrows raise in surprise for a few seconds when he sees the contents before he happily smiles at you.

“You made conchas! Heart-shaped conchas! You… I’ve never seen conchas shaped like this before, not even at the panaderia. When did you even bake them?” Miguel asks, staring at you with amazement before he lifts the box to his face, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh conchas. His mouth waters even more, thinking about how good these will go with a mug of café de olla.

You chuckle softly, pleased with Miguel’s reaction. “Last night. Before you arrived from HQ. The cake and cookies were just a distraction so you wouldn’t see them and the brownies. I wanted to surprise everyone, including you. So, I recruited someone’s help,” you say with a soft shrug of your shoulders, prompting Lyla to appear.

“That would be me,” Lyla says with a soft grin, arms crossed over her chest. “I had to keep you busy, Miguel.”

Miguel scoffs playfully as he realizes and remembers the previous night. “That’s why you kept messing up the anomaly datasheet.”

“And why I kept moving your tabs around,” she replies, which makes Miguel frown for a few seconds.

“That, too. Not appreciated,” he mumbles.

“I had to do what I had to do, to ensure Y/N’s mission was a success, which it was,” Lyla says smiling.

Miguel shakes his head at her but he’s not even slightly upset. Instead, he’s highly amused that you recruited Lyla’s help to keep him occupied at HQ, all to surprise him with these lovely and delicious baked treats. His cheeks feel even more hot now.

“They smell amazing. I’m not even going to lie, my mouth is watering,” Miguel admits quietly as he nods to the conchas. “Thank you.”

“Always,” you reply softly. “I bet… They’d be really good with café de olla.”

Miguel grins. “Is this your subtle way of saying you’d like café de olla?”

You shrug. “I’m just saying, heart-shaped conchas and café de olla sound like a good combination to me. I think, it would be quite an experience. I mean, you’re saying you’ve never seen heart-shaped conchas before so… I was just thinking, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Miguel gives you a soft smirk before he grabs one of the conchas. You can’t help but notice how small it looks in his hand as he holds it up, as if showing it to you. “You were just thinking,” he says, still smirking, raising his eyebrow as he looks at you.

“It’s just a thought,” you reply, smiling softly. “Something to think about.”

“Definitely something to think about… which means you have more at home, yes?”

“There might be more conchas at the penthouse, yes.”

“I see,” he replies. “I guess cafeteria coffee will do for now.”

You tilt your head to the side in curiosity. “For now?”

“There might be café de olla in the evening.”

“I see,” you reply with a smile.

“I hear it might be quite an experience.”

“I have to agree with whoever said that,” you say.

“You know, I do, too,” Miguel responds, still smirking softly at you.

Lyla hovers between the two of you, glancing from you to Miguel. “Great, so there’s gonna be conchas and café de olla,” she says.

You both turn to look at her. Right, Lyla is there.

“I’ll go get some coffee,” Miguel says as he places the concha back in the box, making sure to close it correctly.

“Alright. I’m going to go ahead and start on the report. There’s still so much to do,” you reply heading to the desk you always work on, the one that Miguel set up for you many months ago once you started helping him with the weekly reports.

“Sounds good. I’ll be back,” Miguel responds, placing his baked treats on his platform.

“Don’t worry Miguel, I’ll look after them,” Lyla jokes seeing how careful he has been with the boxes, as if they are precious to him. The teasing tone makes Miguel frown but he doesn’t respond as he heads out of the lab to grab coffee for the two of you.

_♡_

You sit in Miguel’s living room many hours later. The time on your tablet reads 7:16pm. Lamps lit up his space and the fireplace is on, warming the entire penthouse. Soft music coming from Miguel’s record player, the one you gifted him for Christmas several weeks ago, plays in the background.

You sit on one of the couches, a blanket over your legs as you work on the report from your tablet, the same one that Miguel gifted you for Christmas. You sit alone now since Miguel excused himself about twenty-five minutes ago, saying he needed to get something done. You didn’t ask what he had to do, not wanting to intrude on his privacy. You told him that you’d be in the living room. You only realized he was in the kitchen because you heard the opening and closing of drawers, but other than that, you have no idea what Miguel has been up to. Besides, you’ve been caught up working on the report, trying to finish it so it’s ready for scheduled meetings later this week.

You move your pen around your tablet’s screen, fixing something with a frown. Your concentration comes to a halt as a shadow covers the lighting. You look up, only to find Miguel carrying a tray that he sets on the console table that’s placed between the two long couches. It doesn’t take long before the lovely scent reaches you. Café de olla.

You glance at Miguel as soon as you recognize the scent, his crimson eyes meet yours and there’s a soft smile on his face.

“How about a break from the report?” he asks, taking a seat on the floor, clad in his lounge clothes.

You smile softly and nod, quickly placing the tablet away and joining him on the floor. It’s then that you see everything that’s on the tray.

He sets out the mugs with the hot and rich liquid, careful not to burn himself or you. He places three dessert plates out. One with brownies, another with conchas, and finally one with bimbuñuelos, a sugary pastry similar to the buñuelos you’ve had before, his personal addition to the sweets. You realize he bought them earlier when he arrived with a pastry box an hour later after you. You smile softly as you look at the sweets, finding it cute that everything is heart-shaped.

“So, there was café de olla,” you say, looking at him, still smiling.

“And there were more conchas,” Miguel replies as he hands you a clean plate to eat, smiling.

You chuckle softly before the two of you dig in, savoring the freshly made coffee and baked sweets in his dimly lit living room. Outside, Nueva York continues to have rain. Flashes of white lit up the sky every now and then due to lightning.

The two of you engage in conversation as you eat, enjoying each other’s company. And while you reply to something he said, a brief thought crosses his mind. This has turned out to be “quite an experience” as you said, but it isn’t because of café de olla or even the delicious heart-shaped conchas you baked that make him want to sigh in delight with each bite he takes. No, this evening has been “quite an experience” because of you alone. His close friend. His best…

Miguel grins at you as he focuses on your response, always wishing to give you his full attention, before he replies, continuing the conversation.

You take a drink from your mug, noticing a gentle but sudden flush on Miguel’s cheeks. Your gaze flickers to the fireplace for a second, unbeknownst to you that a certain realization of Miguel’s is the true culprit for the rosiness that now cover his cheeks.

♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡

Next Part Translation for Spanish words: Conchas - Mexican pan dulce, pastry; word translates to "seashell" because the pastry is kind of shaped like one Panaderia - bakery Café de olla - coffee made in a pot Bimbuñuelos - fried dough sprinkled with sugar; similar to buñuelos Buñuelos - fried dough fritter: typically a Christmas dessert _____ A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Miguel got me giggling and kicking my feet here! Why is he not real? Anyway, I had this little idea earlier in January and then @heyohalie asked me a while back how reader and Miguel from "Nonviolent Communication" would celebrate Valentine's (if they even did celebrate, since they're currently just friends), and I decided I needed to write it! So, here it is :) Thank you for reading this far and I hope you enjoyed it!!

[healix17]

KOBD going through a family photo album with Wildbreak?

Sweet Moments

The medbay was filled with a soft, warm light as Knockout and Breakdown sat together on a comfortable berth. Wildbreak, their sparkling, was nestled between them, his tiny optics wide with curiosity. Knockout held a large, holographic photo album, its glowing pages filled with memories.

"What's this?" Wildbreak asked, pointing at a picture of Breakdown posing proudly with a massive piece of Decepticon weaponry.

Breakdown chuckled, his deep voice resonating through the room. "Ah, that was the time I took down that Autobot outpost all by myself. Your dad was pretty impressed."

Knockout rolled his optics playfully. "Impressed is a bit of an exaggeration. Concerned about your reckless behavior is more accurate."

Wildbreak giggled, his optics brightening as he turned the page. The next image showed Knockout and Breakdown on one of their rare off-duty moments, sitting on a cliff overlooking Cybertron. The sunset behind them painted the sky in hues of gold and red.

"Wow, Cybertron looks so pretty!" Wildbreak exclaimed.

Knockout smiled softly, his optics reflecting the gentle light of the hologram. "It was. Those moments were few and far between, but they were precious."

Breakdown wrapped an arm around Knockout's shoulders, pulling him closer. "Yeah, we made sure to make the most of them. And now, we get to make new memories with you, Wildbreak."

The sparkling's optics widened in awe as Knockout turned the page again, revealing a picture of the three of them together. It was one of their first family photos, taken shortly after Wildbreak's creation. Knockout and Breakdown looked exhausted but undeniably happy, their arms wrapped protectively around the tiny mech between them.

"That's my favorite," Knockout whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Our first picture as a family."

Breakdown's optics softened as he looked at the image. "We were so worried, so unsure of what to do. But we figured it out, didn't we?"

Wildbreak looked up at them, his tiny face filled with admiration. "You both did great! And now we have all these fun pictures."

Knockout and Breakdown shared a tender look before turning their attention back to the album. They continued flipping through the pages, each picture telling a story of their journey together. There were images of wild adventures, quiet moments, and everything in between. Each memory was a testament to their love and resilience as a family.

As the evening wore on, Wildbreak's optics began to dim, and he yawned, snuggling closer to Breakdown. Knockout closed the album and set it aside, pulling the sparkling into his arms.

"Time for recharge, little one," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Wildbreak's helm.

Breakdown reached over, ruffling Wildbreak's head fins. "Sweet dreams, buddy. We'll make more memories tomorrow."

Wildbreak's optics fluttered shut, a content smile on his face as he drifted off to sleep, cradled between his two protectors.

Knockout and Breakdown shared a quiet moment, the weight of their shared history and the promise of their future together settling around them like a comforting embrace. They had faced countless challenges, but through it all, their bond had only grown stronger.

As they held their sparkling close, they knew that whatever the future held, they would face it together—as a family.

I hope you like it!

[perfectlovevn]

Perfect Love Devlog #40

I'll be going to be camping with family and friends until Wednesday, so I might just skip next week's devlog in that case. I was able to finish Ryan's extra route and I also made something for someone's birthday (cough Pandora) so that's also in the game now I guess.

I was watching a video on how undertale was coded and I got this horrible idea based off of the fun value that Toby Fox did. Well not horrible, but the idea is that you would get a random extra scene that gets rolled when you first open the game. Of course that would mean that I would have to make a bunch of scenes, but considering that I made two of the easter eggs on the menu screen the day before I released the game, well I could probably just make some scenarios for all of the character's interactions. Like I said, horrible idea.

If I have time next week, I'll either do some corrections based on Vivian's corrections or I'l try to do Valli and Gamma's route next. I still have no idea how I'm going to do the holographic look that Gamma's gonna have, but I'll just try it out. I'm really into dredge again though so I'm just going to go back to fishing.