#mcu fanfiction idea

[risrambles]

incoming sambucky fic idea!

imagine sam comes home after a really long day of saving the world (as one does), captain america suit still on with his bag slung over his shoulder. house is dark, he knows that bucky is somewhere inside but doesn’t even have the energy to call out. he’s about to just beeline for bed until he notices small things that are off.

microwave is slightly open, light on. the clock is still set back even though bucky said he was going to change it because of the time switch. the window that was open when sam left the day before is still open and the air is cold and oddly still.

this is when sam gets the first idea that something is wrong, or at least not entirely right, but he almost doesn’t want to jinx it and tries to chalk it up to the fact that bucky is probably tired too. nevertheless, he sets his bag down quietly and his steps don’t make a sound as he slowly moves from room to room.

bucky is nowhere to be found; while he would usually text sam if he wasn’t going to be home that night, there had been nothing the entire day, and when bucky WAS home he would wait up for sam or fall asleep on the couch. but now, he’s nowhere to be seen. okay, something is 100% wrong, but sam can’t figure out what it is. is bucky gone? did someone break in? there was no forced entry and the window in the kitchen was only open a tiny bit. there was no way that anyone was inside other than sam and bucky.

sam doesn’t really know why but he suddenly feels like someone is in the room with him, and when he turns around—he has just made it to the edge of the living room—he sees someone standing in the entryway. someone he thinks he knows.

“jesus, bucky,” sam says, breathing as he recognizes bucky in the dim light. “creeping around—what the hell are you doing?”

but bucky doesn’t say anything, all he’s doing is staring at sam quietly and sam can’t read his face in the dark. sam has been relieved for only a moment, until he realizes that the atmosphere is off. something is shifted out of place.

“bucky,” sam repeats. “what is wrong with you?”

and bucky takes one step closer, into the faint moonlight that shines through the windows. sam can now see the emptiness in his eyes, the emptiness in his expression, and worst of all, the gun in his hand.

“bucky?” sam asks again, but as he does he is slowly positioning himself in a defense position. he knows that bucky isn’t a threat—the furthest from it. he’s been living with the guy for months at this point, and has known him since 2016. sam KNOWS that bucky isn’t a threat, that he shouldn’t be thinking as defensively as he is, but he does know who could be.

and then bucky speaks for the first time, a simple question that sam could remember steve repeating to him one time years ago. the words had meant near nothing to sam then, but everything to steve; now, sam was in the position to feel everything within himself drop as he heard the words.

“who the hell is bucky?”

[barnesonly]

bad idea . ݁₊ ⊹

bucky barnes x avenger!reader

summary: Bucky can’t keep his eyes off you all mission and when you catch him moaning your name back at the safe house, you make sure to give him exactly what he’s been craving.

word count: 3,1k

WARNINGS: 18+ explicit content, MDNI. curse words, dirty talk, jerking off, oral (m receiving), PiV, unprotected sex, rough sex, breeding.

A/N: based on this ask.

The mission had been straightforward enough—infiltration, data retrieval, minimal contact. Bucky had gone over the plan a hundred times with you, listened to you recite it right back like clockwork, but none of that was on his mind anymore. Not when you were right in front of him, wearing that tactical suit that clung to every curve like it was tailor-made for you.

God, he was trying to focus—really—but every time you crouched low to disable a lock or slipped into a narrow corridor ahead of him, his eyes betrayed him. The way the dark fabric hugged the softness of your thighs, the cut of your waist under the belt, the tempting slope of your hips.

And the way you moved… smooth and confident, like you didn’t even know you had this power over him.

“Bucky, cover me,” you whispered into comms as you slipped around a corner.

“Got you,” he replied, voice a shade deeper than usual.

And he did have you—he’d take a bullet for you without a second thought—but tonight it wasn’t just protective instinct roaring in his chest. Tonight it was something hotter, more dangerous. Every whispered word between you sent a shiver up his spine. Every glance you threw him, all determination and fire, went straight to his gut.

You weren’t just his partner tonight. You were a distraction. A beautiful, maddening one.

Bucky told himself he had better control than this. That it was wrong—you were a close friend, someone who trusted him to have her back—and yet every fleeting touch, every breathless moment tangled up together in tight spaces as you avoided guards, just drove him further into his own thoughts.

By the time you two made it back to the safe house, adrenaline still thrumming in your veins, all he could see was you. The perfect bow of your lips when you smiled at him, the glimmer in your eyes when you joked, completely oblivious to the filthy thoughts running through his mind.

And god help him, when you finally disappeared into your room for the night, Bucky thought maybe—just maybe—a cold shower would knock this need out of him.

But the image of your pretty face, the faint scent of your perfume lingering in the dark…

Yeah. That was the last straw.

Bucky kicked his door shut with his heel as soon as he was inside his room, hands already trembling as he tugged his gear off. The mission was over, but his head was still back there—in that darkened hallway, pressed up against you as you whispered his name, breath ghosting across his neck.

God, what was wrong with him?

He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, dragging his hands down his face. Except all that did was summon up images of you again—the way that suit hugged your ass, the flex of your legs when you moved, the glint in your eye when you’d catch him looking and pretend you didn’t notice.

And then, like some sick joke his brain was playing, the image shifted: you, naked and needy, lips parted like you did when you were focusing, hands reaching for him.

A rough groan broke from his chest before he could stop it.

He was already hard just thinking about you—aching, trapped under his tactical pants—and suddenly there was no ignoring it.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, hands moving faster than his self-control as he shoved his pants and briefs down to his thighs, freeing his cock with a low hiss.

He wasn’t proud of this—jerking off to the thought of you like some horny teenager—but tonight? Tonight was different.

Tonight you’d looked at him. Moved around him like you belonged there. Whispered his name like it was some private language.

And now, as his flesh throbbed in his palm, it was your name spilling past his lips.

“God, baby…” he gritted out, leaning back into the mattress, eyes fluttering shut as he gave in to the fantasy—you kneeling between his legs, hands on his thighs, your mouth so close he could feel your breath.

He stroked himself slowly at first, thumb circling the slick bead of precum at his tip, imagining that was your tongue.

“Just like that,” he murmured into the empty room, hips flexing upward on their own accord.

The coil of pleasure wound tighter as he pumped his fist faster, harder, chasing that mental image of you—the softness of your lips wrapping around him, your hands gripping him like you’d never let go.

He could almost hear you moaning around him—or maybe that was his own harsh breathing as heat built up in his spine.

“God, your mouth, baby… f-fuck,” he rasped, name slipping between curses as his abs tensed. Every stroke was slicker, more desperate, so close to the edge he felt dizzy.

And he was so far gone that he never heard the door creak open. Never noticed your silhouette in the dim light, your gaze fixed on him, lips parted in surprise—then hunger.

He was still groaning your name when you moved into the room, your knees brushing the floor as you came to him like a prayer answered.

And when he finally opened his eyes, breath hitching in his throat, there you were.

Kneeling between his legs. Eyes dark and glassy. Mouth open, inches away from his aching, leaking cock—like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

His fingers flexed against the sheets, breath stuttering out as the tension that had been coiled inside him all night snapped.

“Oh wow, Barnes…” you murmured, voice low and tinged with amusement as a slow, wicked smirk tugged at your lips.

His heart thudded so hard it echoed in his ears. “F–fuck,” Bucky breathed, his voice hoarse with surprise and need. “That’s not—”

But you weren’t going to let him finish whatever excuse he thought he could come up with.

“Shhh,” you hushed him, one hand trailing up his trembling thigh before your fingers wrapped around him—slow and sure, your palm warm and perfect.

He hissed through his teeth at the contact, cock twitching against your grip as you gave him one leisurely, deliberate stroke.

“You need my help, huh?” you teased, lips curving as you watched him fight to keep his eyes open.

Your voice was silk and fire, and the way you held him—gentle but possessive—made his spine arch off the bed.

“God,” he groaned, hands flexing into the sheets tightly. “Baby, please…”

And you liked that—liked him raw and desperate for you.

“You do, don’t you?” you murmured again, pumping him slowly, dragging every inch of his aching length through your fist as you leaned in, eyes locked on his face. “Need me to take care of you?”

He was trembling now, teeth gritted against a moan as slick precome dribbled over your fingers, making each stroke wetter, more deliciously obscene.

When you finally bent lower, breath ghosting against him, Bucky thought he might come on the spot.

And then your mouth was on him—hot, wet, perfect—lips sealing around the crown as you eased him in deeper.

A strangled sound tore out of him, hips flexing upward as your tongue swirled slow circles around him, like you were savoring him inch by inch.

“Oh, f—fuck,” he gasped, hands flying to your hair instinctively, needing to touch you, to feel that this was real.

And you moaned low around him in response, eyes fluttering up to meet his, never breaking that gaze as you hollowed your cheeks and started to move.

God, the sight of you—lips stretched around him, eyes burning up at him through your lashes—was enough to undo him.

Your hands steadied him as you took him deeper, bobbing your head in a rhythm that sent shivering heat up his spine and white noise crashing in his ears.

He was already leaking into your mouth, salty and needy, and the way you moaned around him—like you liked this, like you’d been waiting all night for this too—nearly shattered him.

“Holy shit, that’s it,” he panted, thumb brushing your cheekbone as you sucked him just a little harder.

And all he could do was arch into you, let himself go, eyes on you as you took him like you had all the time in the world—wet, filthy, and perfect.

He couldn’t look away—wouldn’t dare.

Your mouth was so fucking warm, lips stretched perfectly around him, tongue working him like you knew every secret to making him fall apart.

And god, you weren’t holding back—hands gripping his hips to keep him steady as you took him deeper, inch by inch. Every slick, sinful pass of your lips and the needy hum vibrating up your throat had him trembling all over.

“Jesus—yes,” Bucky choked, the sound raw as his hands fisted in your hair.

Your eyes stayed on him, hooded and dark with desire, and that was the last straw.

“Baby, I’m gonna—” he started, voice breaking, but you didn’t pull back.

You moaned, like you wanted him to come, your hands tightening, your pace quickening—up and down his length, wet and obscene.

That moan sent him over the edge.

“Holy fuck,” Bucky gasped, spine bowing as heat exploded up his back, his hands tugging gently at your hair without even realizing.

And then he was coming, spilling down your throat in hot, helpless spurts as you stayed right where you were—lips sealed tight around him, eyes fluttering closed as you swallowed every last drop, humming like it was the sweetest thing you’d ever tasted.

“F-fuck,” he groaned again, breath shuddering, muscles trembling as he rode the last waves of his orgasm into your mouth.

And you?

You just kept going—milking him with slow, greedy sucks until his hands loosened their hold in your hair and his cock gave one last exhausted twitch between your lips.

When you finally eased off him, lips glistening, you licked them slowly—dragging your thumb across the corner of your mouth like you were savoring him.

Bucky was wrecked—utterly speechless—eyes fixed on you like you’d just shattered him and put him back together all at once.

And all you did was lean up, breath ghosting across his lips as you whispered, voice wicked and soft:

“See, Barnes? That wasn’t so hard.”

Your lips were still damp and glistening as you kissed him once, slow and teasing, before pulling back with a wicked glint in your eye.

“You really thought I didn’t notice, Bucky?” you purred, hands braced on his chest as you straddled him for a heartbeat. “You looking at me all day like you just wanted to take me right there against the wall?”

His breath caught—a harsh inhale as his hands flexed over your hips.

And you weren’t done.

“The way you kept staring at me,” you went on, voice husky, leaning closer until your lips brushed his ear. “You wanted to touch me so fucking bad, didn’t you?”

That was it.

A growl rumbled deep in his chest—pure need and possessive hunger—and in a blink, his hands were on you.

Your world spun as Bucky flipped you onto your back like you weighed nothing, caging you in with his broad shoulders and solid arms.

“Goddamn right I did,” he ground out, blue eyes dark as they raked over you like he couldn’t believe you were real.

Your breath hitched at the raw power of him—this was the Bucky you’d teased all day without knowing it, and now you had nowhere to hide.

“Bucky—” you started, lips trembling with anticipation.

But he was already on you, hands tugging at your clothes like they were the last thing on Earth between him and you.

Your top was first—pulled up and off with a rough urgency that left your hair tousled and your skin bared to his heated gaze.

“God, look at you,” he breathed, palms sweeping up your sides to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples in a way that made you arch into him with a gasp.

Your hands fisted in the sheets as he leaned down, pressing his lips to the valley of your chest, kissing and nipping his way along your skin like he was starving.

“Been dying for this all day,” he muttered against you, voice so low and raw it sent a shiver straight to your core.

And you could feel him—already hard again—pressed heavy and insistent against your thigh as he dragged your pants down your legs, peeling them off with the same greedy need as before.

By the time you were bare beneath him—nothing left to hide—Bucky paused, breath shuddering as his hands skimmed up your legs like he couldn’t wait another second to touch you properly.

���You have any idea,” he growled, leaning down until his lips hovered just above yours, “what you do to me?”

And all you could do was look up at him—eyes dazed, lips parted, pulse racing—and whisper, “Show me.”

Your heart was a drum in your chest as Bucky hovered above you, gaze raking over every inch of your bare body like he was trying to burn you into his memory. His jaw clenched, his breathing ragged, like he was holding on by a thread.

“Show you?” he rasped, voice so low and dark it sent a shiver straight through your core. His eyes were wild—desperate, hungry—like he’d been starved for you and finally, finally had you where he wanted.

And then his mouth was on yours—no soft, sweet kiss, just pure need, lips crashing into yours, tongue claiming your mouth as his hands grabbed your wrists and pinned them hard above your head.

“Gonna fucking ruin you,” he rasped into your mouth, teeth dragging against your bottom lip as he pinned you.

You gasped, but he didn’t let up—grinding his hips into you, cock heavy and hard against your soaked heat, making sure you felt exactly what you’d done to him.

“Been wanting this all fucking day,” he growled against your lips, breath hot, teeth scraping your mouth as he spoke.

And god, the way he held you down—metal fingers cool and unyielding around your wrists, flesh hand roaming down your side, leaving a trail of heat in its wake—made you tremble beneath him.

Then he shifted his hips, lining himself up, and you barely had time to suck in a breath before he drove into you in one deep, devastating thrust.

Your cry echoed through the room, pleasure burning hot as your body stretched around him, filled so full you could barely think.

“Fuck, baby,” Bucky groaned, head dropping to your neck, his breath shuddering against your skin. “So tight—so fucking perfect for me.”

He didn’t give you a second to adjust—didn’t want to—pulling back just enough to slam into you again, harder, deeper. The force of it rocked you against the mattress, made your head spin, made your toes curl.

You could barely breathe, barely think, just feel — the wet, filthy slap of his hips against yours, the sharp drag of his cock hitting every sensitive spot inside you, the way he completely owned your body.

“B-Bucky—” you gasped, voice breaking on a moan.

“Yeah?” he growled, fucking into you with a brutal rhythm, his metal hand tightening just enough on your wrists to make you arch beneath him, helpless and open. “This what you wanted, huh? Wanted me to lose it? Wanted me to ruin you?”

And oh god, you did. You wanted this—wanted him like this, unrestrained, raw, needing you like his life depended on it.

You whimpered, eyes glossy, back arching as he pounded into you, the headboard thudding against the wall with every deep, savage thrust.

“Say it,” he demanded, voice wrecked, hips slamming into yours so hard the bed creaked beneath you. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you sobbed, pleasure coiling tighter, burning hotter. “Bucky, I’m yours—please—”

“That’s it,” he groaned, mouth at your ear, pace relentless as he chased both your highs. “Gonna come for me, sweetheart? Gonna fall apart on my cock?”

Your body was trembling, so close it hurt, every thrust sending you spiraling higher until you shattered, crying out his name as your climax ripped through you—wave after wave of blinding heat, muscles clenching down around him so tight he nearly lost his mind.

“Fuck—doll—” Bucky gasped, hips stuttering as your orgasm dragged him under.

He spilled into you in thick, hot pulses, groaning low and broken as he fucked you through it, milking every last drop. His body shuddered over yours, sweat-slick and trembling, breath coming in ragged bursts against your skin.

And when it was done, when you were both boneless and spent, he finally loosened his grip on your wrists, fingers tracing over the marks he’d left there—gentle now, reverent.

His forehead dropped to yours, eyes soft even as his chest still heaved. “Jesus, doll,” he whispered, brushing his nose against yours. “I’ve wanted that for so long.”

A wicked little smile tugged at your lips as you tipped your chin up just enough to murmur against his mouth, “I know… you were so obvious, you know that?”

Bucky froze, breath hitching.

Your fingers tugged playfully at his hair as you went on, voice breathy and sweetly smug. “Following me around like a lost puppy all day. Practically undressing me with your eyes every time I bent over.”

That earned you a low groan and a warning growl that rumbled in his chest.

“Careful,” Bucky muttered, hips flexing instinctively—and you could feel him already stirring against you, still inside you, his hands tightening possessively on your waist.

You just grinned, eyes dark as you arched into him. “Careful?” you echoed, lips brushing his ear. “Or what? You gonna pin me down and do it all over again, Barnes?”

And before you could say another word, he was kissing you—deep and filthy—his hands roaming like he was starving for you all over again, every slick inch of your body his to taste, to take, to wreck one more time.

tag list: @iamthatonefangirl @buckytakethewheel @buckybarneswife125 @thatsbucknasty

[calzone-d]

sleepy bob reynolds x reader

tracing bob’s face in the morning while he’s still half asleep 🥹 just running your fingers over his cheekbones, his eyebrows, down the slope of his nose !!!

he’d be all warm from the sunlight and so smiley. letting out little noises while he stretches and tucks himself against you.

used to sleep with a shirt on because he was so self conscious but one night he fell asleep without one, and woke up to you tracing the freckles on his back. it gave him the best kind of goosebumps and now, he never sleeps with a shirt.

he’d be so whiny when you have to get up to pee but loves smothering you as soon as your back in bed.

always apologizes and getting all shy if he drools a little on you. but you’re never mad, it’s actually endearing.

actually sleeps horribly when you’re not there, either stays awake for days or has horrifying nightmares.

it’s worse when he can’t call you for comfort.

he often wakes you up with choked sobs and trembling hands. it’s sad, but he’s at least learned he doesn’t have to keep quiet with you.

it doesn’t stop him from apologizing every five seconds, though. constantly feeling like a burden.

sometimes he just wants to curl up and bury his face in your neck. needs your arms around him, tickling his back and twirling his hair.

im just so soft for him i can't be cured </3

my requests are open!

[irondadmadlads]

Irondad Prompt #229:

Sick!Peter: You really don’t have to take care of me, Mr. Stark. Managers don’t take care of their employees, after all.

Tony: You’re right. Managers don’t take care of their employees. But I’m not your manager and you’re not my employee. I’m your…

Peter: My…?

Tony: Your… Tony! I’m your Tony and you’re my Peter!

[mossker]

i had this fic idea that i can’t actually work out but i love this kind of humour so here’s what i wanted it to be:

the entire team having breakfast together, peter walking into the kitchen and sliding into a seat opposite bucky who just smirks

peter: what?

bucky: *shrugs*

peter: stop staring at me then

bucky: *raises eyebrow, rolls eyes*

peter: *glares*

tony: why the fuck is it so tense over there?

peter: i don’t know, bucky-

harley: *walks in* hey guys why’s it so quiet?

tony: because bucky and peter over there made it tense

peter: *shaking his head at bucky who is grinning mischievously* don’t you fucking dare bucky

bucky: peter-

peter: i’ll kill you, barnes

bucky: harley, are you okay? you look sick. you have some sort of rash on your neck

peter: *punches bucky’s non metal arm*

tony: keener, why do you have hickeys? when did you even have time to go anywhere and meet someone?

harley: they’re just bug bites

bucky: *snorts*

nat: *grimaces*

clint: oh ew, peter i thought you were supposed to be innocent

tony: oh gross what the fuck

peter: i’m never coming to a team meal again i hate you all. and fuck you harley

harley: aw but babe, i thought it was my turn to fuck you

the entire team: *throw random items at harley, groaning and complaining*

harley: *laughing, chasing after peter and ignoring everyone else*

[imsaunteringvaguelydownwards]

I need someone to start a one shot trend with fanfics where it’s that one episode thing

But SPECIFICALLY make it so it rationally makes sense for either option to occur and they actually have to think about it

[prettybabytattoos]

peter quill adores your tits.

a small headcanon of mine, i guess, but there's no way in hell he isn't a boob guy. even after all the stressful things he juggles on a daily, such as spending most of his time protecting the literal galaxy, he still comes home to a sleepy you sprawled onto his bed at the end of the day that makes all of it worthwhile.

"look at these fuckin' tits," he mumbles under his breath. "missed these." he cups them gently, pressing a gentle kiss to both of them. "my pretty girl, always there for me, hm? makes my day all better."

[tisajest]

Okay so Peter in Gotham fics are neat and all

But what about Dick in NYC fics?

Dick somehow dimension travels to a Marvel universe and needs to figure out how to get back home

He encounters the Avengers and Spider-Man and they help him out

Some way or another, he or Peter connect Richard Parker to him and it’s suddenly “oh hey this is a superhero alternate version of my father”

I just think it’d be fun

[otaku-tyriq]

Genuine Question: Logan Hurt/Comfort

So this is a genuine question regarding how y’all feel about this specific idea i had.

Basically we know Logan obv has an INSANE healing ability but that does not mean he is incapable of feeling pain.

So I was thinking what about a Hurt/comfort Stormverine or Poolverine fanfic where Logan suffers from Phantom Pains after getting injured? Cuz technically the wound has long healed up yet he still feels the pain although logically speaking he shouldn’t. And he knows he shouldn’t.

For extra angst maybe the pain comes from his claws? His claws are sheathed, his hands have healed, he technically should not be in pain yet he feels the blades ripping through his flesh nonetheless.

I got the idea while rewatching X-men (2008) with my friend Stephan recently and this scene stuck with me.

I hope that anything I’m saying makes even remotely sense, but TLDR; Wolverine having Phantom Pains despite (on maybe exactly because of) his insane healing powers, getting comforted by either Deadpool, Storm or whoever you desire, because this old man deserves to be loved.

(Gif by @filmslut)

[spidey-brain]

Some people might come for my butt for this, but I gotta say,

I hate when Irondad and Spiderson fics make Peter Tony's biological child.

Like, I'm sorry, but it feels like some people are allergic to found or adoptive families.

[martamatta95]

AU - winterbaron

Ideas for a Fanfiction:

In this universe the events of 'Avengers Age of Ultron' never happened, Sokovia was not destroyed, Zemo has dedicated his entire life to hunting Hydra so he has never married and has no children.

The story takes place immediately after the events of 'Captain America: The Winter Soldier', in which Steve Rogers is looking for Bucky and to dismantle what remains of Hydra. At this point Natasha tells him about a ruthless Sokovian colonel who has been Hydra's nightmare for years all over the world.

Steve contacts Zemo and they form an alliance to give the final blow to Hydra and look for Bucky.

This premise is all an excuse to imagine Zemo as an addition to the Avengers, his relationships with the various characters in the other films (I would love to see him interact with Yelena or Peter), what role he could have in the conflicts our heroes face in the subsequent films and, above all, his bond with the White Wolf.

I want to see Zemo fight Corvus Glaive, spear versus sword!

[yourauthorjen]

i need someone to write a fan fic like yk thay tik tok trend thats like

everywhere i go i keep a picture in my wallet like here take a look at my girlfriend she's the only one I got

yk that one? YEAH SOMEONE NEEDS TO TURN IT INTO A STORY

and if you guys dont i will

[crunchyspaghetti]

Ok, as previously established, I very much enjoyed Thunderbolts*. This post is in no way trying to minimize the movie or its characters.

however

if I see one more person talking about how it was so groundbreaking to have a superhero on screen where their superpowers don’t magically fix all of their problems and actually give strength to making those problems worse, I am gonna riot I fear.

While I would argue it’s not necessarily groundbreaking to superhero stories, generally. It makes me mad when people say this bc it’s not even groundbreaking to the Marvel universe. This exact concept was literally done so well in Agents of Shield (multiple times!!!!), upwards of like 9+ years ago… like… please I’m in the trenches here

[alneedssleep]

There is no way I'm ever going to actually get around to writing this so I'm just going to put the idea out there.

In AUs were people ignore IW or endgame, Morgan Stark obv can't exist. I am personally partial to F.R.I.D.A.Y. being much more sentient than she has any right to be and Tony hiding that because, you know, Ultron. So, in IW or endgame doesn't exist AU's, what if Morgan does exist, but she is the mechanical body created for F.R.I.D.A.Y. Tony is passing off as his own daughter because F.R.I.D.A.Y. is his daughter goddamnit and he will give her an opportunity to be her authentic self.

Peter loves her and Tony spends ages nearly slipping up and calling them siblings. F.R.I.D.A.Y. is even more of a menace with a body to pilot and Tony keeps updating her body so she appears to age.

That's it, that's the whole idea. If anyone writes this, please let me know since I'd die to read it.

[waywardsou2]

@blakellyl so I saw your post about Voidwalker and Bob's golden eyes...

I submit this as a humble offering

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65760316

This is 4k words of voidwalker smut. I hope you enjoy

[faerromagnetic]

BNHA x MCU Crossover idea: Deku mentors Sentry.

Guys, I have a wild ass crossover idea.

Crossover: MCU, specifically MCU Sentry

Setting: Post End of Series.

Deku is not only one of the top Heroes in Japan thanks to the suit, he is also one of the top teachers and mentors for heroes in all of Japan.

In his capacity as a teacher, one of the students he meets is greatly troubling. During the Entrance Exam, one of the examinees was a child that had energy manipulation powers. It mostly showed up as telekinesis and heat manipulation, easily throwing around the machines or melting them.

Then, the Zero Pointer appears, and the child is stunned, he is crying, giving into despair. The child's body darkens, being enveloped in Shadow. In an instant, the Zero Pointer disappears, smeared into an atomic shadow on the ground.

Later, as Deku meets with the young boy, he learns that he struggles with his mind greatly. Often going into Mania or Despair especially when using his powers. Deku finds a kindred spirit in him. While Deku's body couldn't handle the power of One for All, this child's mind can't handle his extremely powerful quirk. Deku then takes him under his wing, vowing to bring hope and teach him to control his vast powers.

Can you imagine the friggin Drama of Deku teaching Bob that it's okay to be a Hero though? Like here's this kid who tried to protect his Mom from an abusive Dad. And he got told he couldn't be a Hero cuz he was too weak and just makes everything around him worse. And Deku is given the task to bring hope into this kids life that he can be a hero despite being told all his life that he can't help anyone.