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#marvel x teen!reader
fbfh · 10 months
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busy busy busy (but never too busy for you) - dad!tony + stark!reader
wc: 1.5k
pairing: dad!tony + (gn) stark!reader
genre: minor hurt/mostly comfort
warnings: needing to spend time with your parent, crying, emotional comfort, if you have daddy issues this one's gonna hurt lol
summary: after traveling with your dad on business, you find yourself missing spending time with him. Tony can't have that, of course.
song rec: walking the wire - imagine dragons
a/n: first fic finished post top surgery!!!!!!! the next few weeks posts will probs be shorter until I finish chapter 1 of the next multichapter fic lol. Also if I didn't say it recently I love you guys, thank you so much for all your love and support <333 PS if you need more personalized dad!tony.... character.ai works well for that lmao
tags @afidiofobia @lizziebitch33 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl  @dustyinkpages  @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @liberty-barnes @followingthefanfiction @youkissedareaderinthedark @girlfriendwhoseawitch @mrscarolscaramoucheplease
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You climb into the car, settling into the plush leather seat as Happy closes the door next to you. You set down your bag and try to get your seatbelt buckled while your dad sits next to you, wrapping up a phone call. 
“No, no. I don’t care. I said-” He stops, listening to someone on the other end for a moment. He’s clearly annoyed. He’s had to deal with people simultaneously trying to kiss his ass and tell him what to do all week, and you can tell he’s getting tired of it. 
“Throw as many conferences as you want, they’ll all be Stark-less. Throw a whole party, while you’re at it- you know what? No, don’t do that. I might actually show up to that.” He mutters the last part, something that would normally make you laugh. He glances over at you, but you’re still fussing with your seatbelt. 
“Alright, how about this. I’ll refer you to Stark Industries CEO, Pepper Potts.” The person on the other end is already objecting, but your dad couldn’t care less at this point. He’s said what he needed to say, and this idiot doesn’t want to listen. He continues to wrap up this disastrous phone call as the car pulls into the street, and starts driving you to the airport. 
“She’ll help you get this sorted out.” 
He hangs up without saying goodbye, then looks over at you. As soon as he does, he knows something’s wrong. You’re not yourself. You’re staring at the bottom of the seat in front of you instead of out the window, or going on your phone. Usually you can’t wait for him to finish business calls, sometimes texting him in the middle of them - texts he’s always happy to receive. You’ve rescued him from pointless conference calls with those texts more times than he can count. You always have something to tell him or update him on, whether that be the latest social media drama, friend group drama, the show you’re watching on Netflix, or even Avengers memes you find online. You always have something delightful you’re excited to share with him without even having to try, and it lights up his day each time. Except now, with you staring into space. 
He hands you the coffee he got you, taking his out of the cardboard holder that had been resting on his lap until now. You look over briefly, accepting the drink. 
“Thanks,” you say lightly, but there’s something in your tone that tips him off. 
“You okay, kid?”
You pause sipping your drink, wondering how he figured you out so fast. He’s your dad, you suppose. That’s kind of his job. You thought you’d been doing an okay job at masking the hollow sadness that’s been eroding you from the inside out all weekend. It doesn’t happen too often, and you tried everything you could to distract yourself until it stopped working. Until now. 
“Is it school? Boys? Girls?” He asks when you don’t answer right away. There’s a note of humor to his voice, but there’s also a sincerity, and you know that even if it was school or boys or girls that he would help you through it. “C’mon, you gotta keep your old man up to date on all the tea. The hot goss.”  
You let out a weepy chuckle, tracing the lid of your drink. He’s always the first to know when your Starbucks order changes, and he always knows exactly the perfect drink to get you without even having to ask. It’s a little thing, but it makes you feel even worse. You’ve spent the whole weekend trying to ignore how much you’ve been missing your dad, missing spending one on one time with him that’s not in between meetings or over a late dinner. He works so hard, and he has so much on his plate, but he always makes time for you. 
That’s why he started taking you along on business trips like this, because you both hated being away from each other. Usually it’s fine, usually you’re off exploring whatever city you’re in, going shopping, or generally finding somewhat entertaining ways to pass the time that you can tell him about next time you catch up. It’s usually really fun, too. It’s just when it gets busy like this, you think, when he has all these meetings and you have all your stuff that you’re juggling that you start to get like this. 
“No, no,” you say softly, rubbing the bottom of your eyes when they start to get misty. “Nothing like that…” 
Tony listens intently in the silence that follows, waiting to see if you have more to share with him. The smell of his cologne is paternal and comforting, a familiar reassurance that floats around him and feels like a hug.
“I just miss you, I guess…” you start, speaking your mind before you can even think. Your dad has that effect on you, it’s so easy to share how you feel and what you’re excited for or worried about that it feels automatic sometimes, like it’s impossible not to. Tony feels his heart break as he realizes what a toll all the recent traveling has taken on you, both of you. He pulls you in for a tight hug. You feel the tears you’ve been fighting start to spill, Tony rubs your back reassuringly and it finally feels safe enough to. 
He tries not to dwell on the fact that you got to feel like this in the first place, tries not to let that voice tell him he should have noticed how you felt sooner, that he’s a terrible dad, because he knows inside that he’s not. He’s not his father, and he sure as hell won’t make those mistakes. He could let himself worry about how he’s doing with you, let it keep him up at night - hell, it still does some nights, even when he doesn’t want it to. It’s been that way with you since he became your dad. Instead of worrying about that, he does what he does best. He takes action. 
“You are such a sweet kid.” He states, pressing a kiss on your forehead when you pull away. He brushes away the tears spilling down your cheeks. “Unfortunately, sometimes being a genius-billionaire-superhero-superdad requires some meetings and boring stuff. But don’t think I forgot about the most important part of that.” 
The dad part. He doesn’t even have to say it, you both know that’s where he’s going with this. You nod along, sighing as your breathing starts to slow back down. 
“But you’re right. It has gotten to be too much lately.” 
He reaches into the small mini fridge sitting between the driver’s and passenger seats, crisply cold and stocked with both your favorite drinks. He grabs a water bottle, opening it and handing it to you. 
“How about this? We’ll spend the whole plane ride back watching movies together - or that show you were telling me about, the one with- god, what’s his name…” He tries to remember the name of that actor you’ve been talking about the last few days, and you chuckle, supplying the answer. He snaps his fingers in recognition, repeating it back to you.
“Yes. That’s the one. We’ll watch all those movies, and you brainstorm what we’re going to do this weekend. Dream big, kid. I’ll have Pepper help you organize the whole thing.” 
Your eyes widen in excitement, and you hug him tightly again. 
“Thanks, dad.” You smile. You really are both long overdue for some quality time together, and Tony knows if he has to attend one more meeting, he’s going to lose his mind. The cave he built his first arc reactor in was more interesting than some of the people he’s spoken to recently. 
“I love you, kid.” 
He looks at you fondly for a moment, basking in pride at what a wonderful, amazing person you’ve become. It’s not time for him to get all sappy on you with the dad stuff, not quite yet, so before he can, he grabs a fluffy throw blanket and spreads it across you. 
“Now, we’ve got a big weekend ahead of us, so get some shut eye. I’ll wake you when we get to the airport.” 
Right before you start to doze off, you hear him on the phone with Pepper, filling her in on the plan. 
“Alright, so they’ve got about 25 more minutes of Stark business time, then I’m off the grid till monday.” Pepper says something about how they’re not going to like that, and Tony laughs, glancing over at you sleeping peacefully. “They don’t have to.” 
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moiravim · 1 year
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Sam and Bucky taking in Steve's child/teen
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Platonic Bucky x gn!yn
Platonic Sam x gn!yn
Summary: Bucky and Sam Being loving, overprotective father figures for Steve's child.
You were heartbroken when Steve didn't come back after returning the infinity stones. You were also betrayed that he talked to Bucky about it but not you.
Sam saw how uncomfortable you were around Bucky and immediately took you in. You stayed with him and started healing from the pain your father left you with.
When you cry over your dad, Sam pulls you into a hug and holds you tightly. He rubs your back in hopes of comforting you.
Eventually you start to miss Bucky so Sam starts to get in contact with him. Both are extremely overprotective of you and treat you like your their own child.
You are closer to Sam because of the time spent with him after loosing your dad, so Bucky gets jealous and tries to win you over.
They joke a lot about who you like more. If John Walker messes with you, he'll have to deal with two pissed off dads. Let's just say he won't be near you again.
Bucky tells you stories about your dad and what he was like before Captain America. Sometimes the two of you cry while thinking of happy memories with Steve.
Bucky and Sam love you more than life itself and are willing to do anything to keep you happy.
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bucky: i’ve been through hell
y/n: big deal. i worked at the sunglasses kiosk at the mall for four years.
y/n: so not only have i been through hell, I was assistant manager there
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marvelflame2010 · 11 months
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Natasha x daughter
"Mom, I'm home from school!", introduced Y/n as she entered the empty apartment. She walked into the kitchen and noticed a note on the fridge. 
 The note read, "Y/n, I was called on a mission. I'll be back late again. Don't burn the kitchen down making pasta. (JK, I know you are better than that ;) ). See you soon, love. -Mom."
Y/n smiled at the note and sat down to start her homework.
*Time skip*
Y/n was just getting ready to start dinner when her phone rang. The contact read, "UNKNOWN."
Rolling her eyes, knowing what's about to happen, Y/n answered the phone. "Y/n here, no I will not give you the homework answers. Look it up."
"Miss Y/n", a gravely voice rang, "I have kidnapped your mother."
"Who?", Y/n taunted the man.
"Your mother. Natasha Romanoff. Black Widow", the man answered, raising his eyebrow.
"Oh, that mom! Yeah, can you put her on the phone please?", Y/n asked.
The man was confused and looked at his friend for backup, to which he shrugged.
"Ok", the man said, giving the phone to Natasha, who was tied up in a chair.
She positioned the phone under her neck. "Hi, hon", she greeted her daughter.
"Hi, Mom. Quick question. If you got stabbed in between your 4th and 5th ribs, would you cough up blood?"
"...Probably. Why, were you stabbed?", asked Natasha.
"No, I was just curious because we need to write a short story for English class that is due in 2 weeks and I want to write about this woman who has continued to kill her soulmate to stay alive because if you meet your soulmate, you grow old. But she doesn't want to grow old and kills her soulmate, but he just keeps coming back to live over and over", Y/n explained.
"That is a really good idea, and I would be like to read it when you are done", Natasha answered, interested.
"Cool beans. Anyway, I'm just about to make dinner and re-watch 'Moana'. I'll let you get back to kicking butt", Y/n said.
"Alright. Love you", Natasha said.
"Love you more Mom. Stay safe! Don't get stabbed", Y/n warned, before hanging up.
The kidnapper took the phone, and processed to get head-butted by the infamous Black Widow.
*Time skip*
Natasha walked inside the apartment to darkness. She saw a note on the table along with a plate of pasta.
The note read, "Hey Mom. Made dinner and saved you a plate. Went to bed at 9 and maybe stole one of your shirts again. Tony called and said something about an update for your widow bite things. Chat tomorrow. Love you. -Y/n"
Natasha smiled walked to Y/n's room to see a sleeping Y/n, with a shirt on that Natasha stole from Clint in her early S.H.I.E.L.D. days. She walked over and kissed Y/n on the head.
"Sweet dreams, detka", Natasha whispered before she walked back to the kitchen for food.
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pixiexdusts-world · 1 year
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Marvel social media :) 2
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verybadatwriting · 9 months
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Healer Masterlist
For all of these, the reader is gender neutral. They use they/them and I avoid physical descriptions (besides for both of the 'Hair' stories). Please tell me if I mess it up anywhere.
Reader is ~16. HYDRA captured them at age two.
Background: Civil War would have happened roughly one year ago. Everyone’s living at the Tower, Bucky’s there too. Still quite a bit of animosity between the Cap and Tony sides of Civil War. Tony, Steve, & Bucky managed to work it out at the big final battle, but Rhodey still fell and damaged his spine at the airport battle.
Part 1
Summary: Steve ends up in Hydra’s most secure prison.
Warnings: Injuries, past trauma, conditioning, death, torture (punches), witnessing death of a loved one,
Steve x teen!reader, Nat x teen!reader, Avengers x teen!reader
Word Count: 4,274
Part 2
Summary: Y/n adjusts to life in the tower and the people they share it with.
Warnings: Bad sleep schedule. References to past trauma (kidnapping, murder of parents, etc.)
Bucky x teen!reader, Steve x teen!reader, Wanda x teen!reader, Sam Wilson x teen!reader, Loki x teen!reader
Word Count: 2,477
Part 3
Summary: Y/n helps heal the Rift caused by the Sokovia Accords.
Warnings: Injuries, medical stuff (no needles)
Rhodey x teen!reader, Dr. Cho x teen!reader
Word Count: 726
Part 4
Summary: Reader is captured by Hydra again. 
Warnings: Blood, torture, needles, gore, angsty stuff. Major character death (temporary)
Nat x teen!reader, Steve x teen!reader, Avengers x teen!reader
Word Count: 4,336
Hair (Buzz cut)
Summary: Reader learns how to express themself through their hair.
Warnings: Bad memories
Nat x teen!reader
Word Count: 671
Hair (Medium/Long)
Summary: Reader learns how to express themself through their hair.
Warnings: Improper treatment of prisoners, cold exposure, dehumanization, reader has long/medium hair
Sam Wilson x teen!reader, Nat x teen!reader
Word Count: 625
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Y/n, a telepath: *minding their own business*
Yelena: *coughs to get their attention*
Y/n, looking at her: Do you...need anything?
Yelena: What? Oh nonono, don't worry
Y/n: Oh, okay
Nobody:
Always Yelena: *screams internally*
Y/n, throwing the book they were reading in the air: Jesus fUCKING CHRIST- YELENA!!
Yelena: BAHAHAHAHAHA OH MY GOD YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN YOUR FACE!!
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alexiswritingstuff · 10 months
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Saved by the unexpected.
Pairing: Frank Castle x teen! reader (Gender Neutral)
Other appearances: Micro, aka David Lieberman. 
Summary: Your run to the grocery store goes sideways on the way back home that leads you to being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and with a fresh gunshot wound. Upon waking up you find yourself somewhere unknown with people you had never seen... Or so you thought.
Warnings: gun fights, murder, gun shot wound, mentions of other injuries like cuts and bruises, implied parent loss. 
Be aware of possible spelling mistakes or sentences that are worded wrong. I read over my writing before posting but stuff still manages to slip under my radar!
A/n: Bro I really am bad at creating titles for fics. Anyway, I watched The Punisher a few months ago, and previously finished DareDevil, and I wasn’t able to stop thinking about a certain Mr. Castle. That man in general already activated my daddy issues and then I watched season 2, and... Yeah, that was a lot, but this is what my brain created! 
Like I say whenever I write for new characters, because this is my first attempt, the way portray them and the characteristics may not be a 100% accurate, so bear with me while I find my footing.
Either way, I hope you enjoy reading! 
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It was supposed a morning like any other. Started with a bright sky and chirping birds before slowly melding into the warm afternoon. 
You had just done the weekly shop, collecting everyday items, things that would give the most important nutrients, with basically the same amount in snacks and drinks. 
I mean, what else could they mean by a balanced diet. 
The main route you would usually take had been closed off by the time you had finished with the store, the road cracked from something unknown, and that meant that you had to take a detour. 
It was one that you had walked through many times before, leading you almost directly towards where your trailer was stationed without having to wind round block after block of apartments. 
So, the decision to choose it was simple. 
You took of down the pathway, that was slowly becoming overgrown, between two very large buildings which almost looked as if they could reach the sky from your angle.
This part was more commonly known as the run down area. 
The complexes on either side of you were empty. Most had the windows boarded up, due to the lack of ability to get them repaired, and the walls themselves were stained from a plethora of things, parts even looking like they were about to crack and crumble. 
It was a lot harder to get funding for these buildings as the further you walked down the path, the further you got a way from the main street. For the occasional tourist, or people who had a stuffed schedule, they wouldn’t know what was down here. Which usually meant that they wouldn’t even try to find out.
And soon, it took its toll. Most, if not all, had been abandoned unless someone was able to turn something into an apartment of some kind. 
You moved under the overhang section created by a walkway that connected the two opposing buildings, and honestly it sort of felt like a tunnel due to its width. But eventually, you arrived back in the open and by god the area was massive. 
To the left, behind a wall that separated a descending pathway from the  ground levelled with your own feet, was a car park. 
The size of it would give the implication that there was a mass of vehicles coming in and out during the week, easy access for people working in the surrounding buildings. 
But now, it was always empty.
… Or it was supposed to be. 
In the furthest corner of the parking lot was this very specific looking handful of cars. A sight that should have been acknowledge as the first sign. Your first warning. 
It was too late.
All of a sudden, there was this echo that felt like it drilled through your ear. It was violent through the air, one that rung for almost a full minute through the complex to your right. 
It wasn’t something you really questioned off the bat. I mean, the building was old. It could’ve been a loose panel finally deciding to break free from the ceiling, or a cracked wall weighing in on itself. Or even someone trying to fix up the building?
And all of those assumptions weren’t exactly bad... They were just the wrong ones. 
Something you realised the moment the sound appeared once again. 
Whatever it was reverberated from the broken windows in a way that properly allowed the ability to hear in its entirety. It was closer this time, more full. “What the...”
It was a series of bassy pops, collectively almost imitating the blast of fireworks, but within the sounds was this sort of clinking like something had fallen to the floor. 
And though it was a very muffled detail that took a moment for your brain to register, it didn’t stop the cogs from making their final turn. 
“Oh, shit.” 
Within the same moment that you made the decision to practically slide to the side, trying not to completely slam into the wall that you ended up behind, the doors of the building burst open with such force that it echoed around for ages.
There was chorus of yelling, even more shots, and heavy boots that practically skid against the concrete as they moved. It was as if you just stumbled upon a damn army.
You were sat on the ground, one leg stretched out from your hurried movements while the other was still bent at the knee, ready to move if necessary. The backpack was still strapped around your shoulders meaning that the further you tried to press against the brick wall, the more certain items began to stab into your back.
Your heart was hammering, chest heaving, as you continuously looked up and down the path you sat on. It was the only thing you could see. Everything was happening on the other side of the wall, so pretty much all you could do was just sit and listen for people that might decide to come your way.
You fought the urge to cry out when bullets skimmed the top of the wall, causing little clumps of rubble and dust to hit the top of your head. “Why me, why me, why me!” you hissed through a whisper, trying to ruffle the stuff out of your hair. 
Hurried shouts were passing back and forth across the huge car park like a game of tennis, though it seemed that due to the other sounds that followed, and the panicked state of your mind, all of them were unintelligible. 
It sounded like they were coming from everywhere.
The multiple objects in your bag had started to make your spine ache so, at the same time as yet another shot, you leaned forward. Quick enough so that the sound of items unsquashing themselves would ring at the same time as the bullet. 
You reached back, making sure that your bag wasn’t going to hit any surface, and then took it off of yourself one arm at a time. 
Soon the bag was placed in front of you, your fingers immediately unzipping it, before you began to search through. You wanted some kind of weapon, or if not that then at least some form of protection... But you had just gone shopping. 
I doubt a banana would be useful in a gun fight. 
You moved onto the pockets on either side of the bag when the main compartment made too much noise. It wasn’t like it was going to do any justice anyway because it was all just a bunch of food, a carton of juice and other little things for your trailer. 
This wasn’t a planned situation. 
When you woke up this morning and picked up your bag to go grocery shopping, you weren’t exactly imagining that you would need to bring something to fight with.
A huff of air passed through your lips while your fingers began searching through the left pocket. You felt around, following the lining of stitches for at least something, but the most found was a wrapper from some sweet or chewing gum. 
So, it was on to the next. 
This time to do the same routine was a bit more difficult as this pocket was where you kept your water bottle. You were trying to be more careful when you started to comb through the compartment, even if you had to move a bit faster to properly squeeze around the lack of space. 
And then, finally, you felt something.
In that moment it was hard to tell what it was. It felt long enough to at least administer some form of damage, or maybe only be needed to threaten someone from a distance, so your stressed mind just chose it. You began pulling your hand out. 
But, despite what you wanted, it wasn’t going to be that easy. 
Right as the item had been tugged vertically, making it easier to pull it out, the movement had caused the bone of your wrist to hit into the bottle.
Ordinarily, it was something that you wouldn’t think twice about. You were just trying to get an item out of a pocket, surely you could do that without something bad happening... 
Half of whatever you were trying to grab had been stuck under the bottle in a way that already had it tilting. And then the impact landed. Your wrist hit near the top of the bottle and that was all it needed. 
It started to tip out of the pocket. 
A sharp breath sucked into your lungs at the feeling, but with no ability to catch it in time, the metal cylinder simply fell to the floor from a very unfortunate height for you. 
And that apparently wasn’t all. 
In fact, even after the sound echoed in a way that most definitely had already blown your cover, the world seemed to have other plans for you as after yet another bounce and a few more smaller ones, it was starting to roll. 
You leaned to the side as fast as you could, reaching your arm out to its full extent with your hand wide open. But it was like trying to catch a fly, and soon, it just rolled right passed your fingers, moving even faster the more the water sloshed inside of it. 
The only thing you could do was watch in utter horror as the bottle travelled right passed the edge of a wall for the whole world to see. 
Eventually, about halfway through the path, it ran into a rock or a crack in the ground. The bottle bounced about one more time before it finally stalled. Though, at this point I don’t think it really mattered. The damage was still done. 
The shots had placated a bit, the only ones being fired sounding far away, as the confusion dispersed the men on the other side of the wall. Murmurs were passing back and forth.
“What was that?
“Did you hear that?
“Where did that come from?” 
Your eyes squeezed shut, teeth biting into the skin of your bottom lip as your body just purely froze no matter how much your brain was telling you to make a run for it. 
“Okay, okay, all of you keep moving! Spread out more while I check it out. We’re not alone out here!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Okay, sir!”
However many people were on the other side of the wall scattered within the next beat of your heart. More shots and shouts began to ring out with the same loudness, now joined by the heavy smacking of boots as they moved further away...
But a pair of footsteps still remained. 
Now, your heart was purely thumping in your ears. It was by far the most prominent thing you could hear in that moment, though the sound of those harsh shoes kicking up stones without care was an active competitor. 
Especially when they started getting louder. 
Your eyes flicked to the open backpack in front of you, an ache beginning to pulse through your forehead while you stared at the contents. There was this sort of desperation, and almost disappointment, that built in your system at the thought of losing the freshly bought items. 
Though, what was the point in trying to save the food if you wouldn’t be alive to eat it. 
Within the next second, and after a very deep breath, you propped your hands firmly against the path beneath on either side of your body. You pushed your strength into your unstretched leg until it was folded under you. 
By now you looked like some kind of runner getting ready to do race, and honestly it was pretty much how you felt. The thought was the only thing suppress the panic active in your chest, so you indulged.
There was this internal count down as you moved your other leg to stretch behind you, even if there wasn’t that much space to do so. 
And then the timer went off. 
You were about to push yourself onto your feet. About to ready to get up, adopt a sort of hunched over posture so that no part of your body could peak over the wall, and run like hell.
But again. It wasn’t going to be that easy.
The movement was caught from the corner of your eye. 
You had barely even started carrying out your wanted movements when a man suddenly appeared round the corner of the wall, slow and intense. 
He was pretty decked out from what your panicked mind could comprehend. There were a multitude of weapons that clung to his belt, and he was in fact holding this massive gun. 
Initially, his focus was on your bottle. The barrel of the gun was pointed directly at the object of confusion, as it didn’t really look like the standard water bottle from afar, with his finger hovering over the trigger. Ready to fire at any moment. 
At this point you had resumed this sort of weird crouched position, stuck between wanting to stand up and finally run away or stay frozen to the ground as if you could just meld into it. 
Either way, it was a kind of stance that didn’t provide a sense of balance. And soon, despite how much the dread utterly pooled at the bottom of your stomach like it did on a rollercoaster, you fell. Right on your ass.
The gun, that you had pretty much only seen in movies or on the news, was pointed right in your direction before you could even blink once. 
You attempted to crawl backwards, winding round your backpack, eyes wide and fully open as they trained on the man who in turn had started to follow your movements. And then you stopped, knowing full and well what was coming even if you got to your feet. 
Your breathing was erratic, arms moving stiff and slow as you raised them above your head with your palms open, facing the man who made no implications that he was going to put that gun down. “Listen,” You gulped, “I didn’t see anything, I swear-- Look, there. My bag is there-- Take it. Take anything.” 
“Anything you want.” 
It was no use. No matter what way the words tumbled from your mouth, that finger never tried to move away from that trigger. 
You closed your eyes, feeling the way your body heaved with every breath, the way your hands shook. Your ears listened out for the wind, the wildlife that had most definitely moved on from here already, or just something that wasn’t from guns. 
And then a shot rung out. 
It was an indistinctive reaction when your body jolted at the sound as it echoed through the large area, pinging within the windows of the abandoned buildings. You had almost fallen, your arms springing down even if you thought there was no time to protect...
You could still move?
Your eyes snapped open, the ability to take in full breaths yet to come, and you looked down at yourself. You tried to scan across what you could see on your body, that was somehow still alive, and leant on a hand to further support yourself. 
However, just as your brain attempted to register a lack of a gunshot wound, the sound of something hitting the ground stopped your investigation. 
Your head sort of bobbed for a moment, the want to continue your search fierce in your veins, but then you finally looked away. Your gaze rose.
The man before you had tumbled to his knees. 
His hands moved around for a few seconds, desperately trying to grab apart of his chest as if in disbelief of what just happened. And then another shot fired again. 
Like before, your body had jolted in response, still having no idea which gun it was coming from. 
However, when a particular part of you scrunched, the shock in your system decided to completely drain. Your pain receptors activated in a way that you weren’t ready for. 
It was hard to pin point exactly where the feeling had originated as it spread like a wildfire, but it was intense enough that the arm you were leant against almost buckled. 
Sharp burning. A sensation that made it feel like you had been bitten by hundreds of thousands of fire hands over and over again. 
Or, when you finally managed to get yourself to look down again, it was because you in fact had gotten shot. “Oh...”
He got you.
“Oh, shit.”
There was this hurried voice that bounced through the walls. Your head attempted to snap up like it had previously done, but this time it was just unsteady. Almost like it was moving in points.  
By the next blink, that practically didn’t even feel like one, another man had made his way round the corner. He also had a gun raised... but, it seemed different.
His general stance, the way he carried the weapon, the expression on his face even if you could only see half of it. It was clear that he had a lot more experience than the last guy. 
They weren’t from the same group. 
The man lowered himself onto one knee beside the body, head still raised cautiously to make sure to keep full awareness of his surroundings while he searched over any pockets he could see. 
And then he stilled. 
You didn’t have to move, or even make a sound, for this guy to spot you.
Within about a millisecond the man had the gun back in both of his hands in a way that had you immediately raising your own despite the pins and needles that ached at all of your muscles.
The world around you was starting to spin, making it more difficult to pay attention to the mans movements. “Don’t... Don’t kill.” Your lips were heavy, the ability to even part them becoming some kind of workout. 
And then, like someone just flicked a switch, it was like all the strength and power in your body decided to dissipate. 
For the second time now, you fell. Though, in this instance, it was your back that collided with ground in a way that had your head smacking into the concrete path afterwards. 
Your skin felt hot all over your body, but it also felt cold at the same time. 
You were trying to move, wanting nothing more than to get back up, go home, curl up in bed and forget this ever happened. But the ability to budge any limb had faded from your brain until you couldn’t even feel if your arms were lifted in the air or not.
So, you just laid there, eyes staring blankly up in the sky while your eyelids acted like they had forgotten their main function. “Hey!”
Right before you gave into that nagging want to sleep, something blocked whatever view you had left, “Kid? Hey, kid, are you... Oh, no-- Kid, can you hear me?” You could feel hands on your arms, and soon, one had pressed onto the wound in a way that had a sound gurgling out of your mouth. 
“Kid!”
~~~
It took your brain a significant amount of time to realise that you had awoken when the time eventually came. 
The sensations within your body were either mild or piercingly intense. There was no in between. 
Every muscle in your face was rigid, aching in a way that made the want to move diminish within seconds. You were trying to blink, your eyelids remaining heavy and ignorant no matter how many attempts were made. 
It hurt to breathe. Any movement within your torso would stretch the skin closest to your armpit and immediately sent a crackle of fire spreading through it like a shock of electricity. 
Your muscles flinched, almost spasming, as you slowly reached back, trying to grip onto some part of whatever lay beneath you so that you could push yourself up.
There was no attention aimed at any sound that spilt through your lips and it was only when a harsh pain erupted, engulfing your shoulder, that you had realised how loudly a sort of strained yelp had burst from your throat. 
You fell back onto the pillow, the agony in your body burning so hot that it had you light headed.
If it wasn’t for your current state the sudden echo of quick footsteps would’ve registered a lot faster through your ears, and in your mind. 
There was words passing across the air, some may have been aimed at you for a response, but this was the first time you had fully managed to open your eyes since you had actually woken up.
Your head slowly turned as voices continued to echo, muffled no matter how many times it rung in your ears, until your right cheek met with the pillowcase. Your eyes cast through a metal wall, more so the frame of one, which looked as if it previously had some sort of murky glass within.
The place was massive. 
This dim lightly spread throughout most sections as the source above couldn’t reflect on any surface due to the fact that everything around was either a form of black or a gloomy grey. The lights themselves were also the kind of ones that aimed straight down, meaning that it would only cover what was directly beneath. 
“Hey.”
In the centre of the main area was this sort of ring. There was a walkway that cut through the middle so that people could get from one side to the other, and on either side were desks that followed the rim, a plethora of monitors and electronic devices cluttering the surface. 
Some you hadn’t even seen before.
“Hey, uh, kid?”
Your head snapped back into its previous position in a speed that felt like it shook your brain. You squeezes your eyes shut for a good minute before they opened again. 
And after blinking a few times, your vision came back into focus. 
There was this dude stood to your side. He was tall, slim in width with curled mid length hair and a beard that wasn’t connected to the moustache covering his lip.
“Oh, yeah-- Must be pretty disorienting to wake up in a place like this.” The way he sounded matched almost exactly like you had guessed. It was nice. Not harsh and not too soft. 
He held your gaze in such a way that made it seem as if he could see right through you, even taking a slight step back when he noticed how wide and cautious your eyes were set on him, “It might take some time for you to believe us, but I assure you that we don’t want to harm you. You’re all good... Well, I mean, apart-- apart from your injuries.”
“Generally, you’re good-- Or like... Yeah.” 
Your hand lifted from where it had previously flopped and you reached it to your left shoulder, slow and steady. 
Your fingers travelled lower, gliding across the exposed skin before it reached the edge of tank top arm slot. Your movements halted in the space between the end of your shoulder bone and the beginning of your chest. 
Finally, you realised where the source of pain was coming from.
Somehow, the shot taken at you had landed right above your first rib. And from the uncomfortable feeling, constantly there, from what you were guessing was another bandage on your back. It had gone all the way through. 
The dude that had been previously talking cleared his throat after a moment. He was sort of shifting the weight back and forth from one foot to another, unsure of what to do or say which then ended up with him looking away. 
Your attention landed back on him, your arm happily moving back to lay by your side. Though, your eyebrows then furrowed, realising that the guys eyes had settled on something, and it even looked like he was asking a question.
So, after allowing yourself to give into your curiosity, you followed the direction he was looking in. 
You almost jumped out of your skin.
There, leaning against the thing you could barely call a wall, to your right was a guy stood perfectly still with his arms tight across his chest. 
It was that man from earlier. The one that found you. Saved you?
His eyes were already on your own which left the questioning gaze from the other dude unanswered. At first the muscles in his face were visibly tense, crinkled eyebrows, slightly narrowed gaze, jaw clenched tightly. 
And then you looked at him. 
In an instant it was like everything taking over his features eased. He raised his head a single time before it lowered back to where it was usually held. A greeting. 
“I’ll bet your hungry, huh?”
Your attention snapped back to the other dude once again to find that there was this gentle smile pressing into his lips once your eyes met his. 
The question circled round your mind for a good few seconds before it fully processed. It had you thinking, a silence falling within the little room while the hum of electricity barely caught your ears. 
In all honesty hunger had been the last thing on your mind. To solve the sudden mystery was even more difficult since you couldn’t even remember the last thing that passed through your body, other than a bullet. 
Though, right before you could even try to figure out the wanted response was to be, it seemed like your stomach decided to do it for you as it suddenly rumbled through the quiet. 
It may have not exactly sounded like some kind of missile, but considering the building was very echoey and your lack of answer had created a pause within the people stood in the room, it was louder than any other sound at that moment. You were horrified.
The man with his arms crossed dared to huff a quiet laugh through his nose and before you could even send him a look, or give any sort of reaction for that matter, the other guy took a step back with this expression on his face.
He was practically beaming as he clasped his hands together, “Good answer.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed once again, gaze now following the man as he moved round of what you now realised was a cot underneath you and out through the doorway a moment later.
You were going to attempt to continue watching him, wanting to know where he was walking despite the context clues, but after trying to look through the empty frames in the wall, the figure of the quiet dude blocked your view.
And for the first times since your initial meeting, if you could even call it that, your eyes properly took him in. 
Regardless of the position of his spine from the leaned pose, his posture was sharp. Straight like he had to practice it many times. He was tall too, though a little shorter than the other guy. 
The hair on his head looked like it was just growing out from being shaved, the sides a lot shorter than the top. It looked like a marine cut. 
Admittedly, he could’ve done his hair that way cause he simply wanted to. But you saw him earlier. 
He knew the ins and outs, every little detail, of the gun he held strong in his arms. You saw his stance, one that could more commonly only be from having to do it 24/7. 
And where was the most known place where you had to stand at attention almost every day?
Any item of clothing that covered his body was full black, including the shoes and his belt, which was a drastic contrast to any skin that was exposed. It also meant that you could spot any cut or bruise he had very easily. 
There was a good few on his face. Some had become scabs already, looking like they had been there for some time, while others almost looked fresh. The most noticeable appeared like it followed his cheekbone. 
Your eyes immediately snapped away upon realised that you had been looking at him for so long that he had in fact noticed it. I mean, there wasn’t really anything else to occupy his mind. 
You tried to shift your body against the cot, a mixture of wanting to distract yourself and a test to see how much you could move without it hurting. 
But either way, it was hard to do anything without being able to properly use a side of your body.
So, ultimately, you were stuck. Trapped under a blanket which forced you to lay flat on your back, against something that you wished had the same feeling as your bed, while sounds started to echo from what you were guessing was the kitchen. 
“Hey, kid.”
The voice that hit your ears was a lot gruffer than expected, gravelly enough that it almost sounded like it was hurting his throat. The way the words passed through his lips were clear, but also hushed as if he was trying not to be loud for an unknown benefit. “What were you doing out there, hmm?” 
With his stance, you half expected that whatever he wanted to say was going to come out harsh. That he was going to yell and tell you off for something. But he didn’t. He was... actually concerned?
“It’s a decent walk from the store you went to.” he then added on, and now that seemed to get your attention. 
Your head rolled to the side, narrowed gaze finding him with a newfound cautiousness. 
The man in turn must’ve realised the suspicion his wording caused, so he simply gestured to the side with his head, “I got your bag.”
Sure enough, as you moved your lower against the pillow, it was in fact there. The first familiar thing you had seen all day was sat on the ground beside the guy. It may have had some slight rips, some of the material had even been scuffed enough that it was visible. 
But it was there. Zipped up and everything.
Your favourite backpack.
Despite your distance, the bag looked plump with some of the contents clearly poking against the sides of it. All of the items were still in it. Hell, even the water bottle was back in the same side pocket you always put it in.
“We couldn’t find your name in the system,” the man spoke again, and honestly you had forgotten that he was there regardless of the fact that he stood next to where you eyes were aimed. “Did your parents know where you were?”
You looked at him within seconds of the question catching your ears and that dread from earlier began to pool at the bottom of your stomach all over again. 
I mean, you should’ve expected the question at some point.
It was common for you to forget that other people could look at you and see a child, ask the whole ‘where are you parents’ when you had to buy stuff that apparently didn’t seem normal for a child to get, even if it was just household items. 
You will never forget the time you tried to buy scissors. 
But the question still stung. It would make all of the memories of countless things flood right back until it was fresh in your mind, creating a wave of nostalgia that you hated at this point. 
Your head slowly rolled back to its previous position, your gaze now cast up at the rotting, grey ceiling while a deep breath seeped through your nose. Your body practically deflated when it went back out. 
Like before, you didn’t need to say anything for the guy to understand the situation.
Obviously, from your position, you couldn’t clearly see him as anything more than a blurred blob from the corner of your eye, but he had sort of loosened his crossed arms. Was the look of loss that clear on you?
How could he even notice it that quick?
Your body almost jolted when he cleared his throat and pain shot through your shoulder that had you biting back a grunt.
“Listen, we’re not-- We’re not going to hurt you... all right?” His tone was different this time. Lighter in a way that reduced the grumble of his voice, even if it didn’t sound unpleasant. “You’ve been here for a few days so that the, uh, big guy could fix up your shoulder.”
“That’s all.”
From the feeling of his gaze aimed in your direction, you could tell that he was doing what you had done, except he was more so trying to analyse your movement no matter how miniscule. 
It made you nervous enough that your mind was trying to zone in on the sounds coming from the kitchen, fiddling with the fabric of the blanket. But that just meant that a silence had started to layer. 
“Can you speak?”
Your body stiffened within a matter of seconds. 
At this point there was no reason for you to remain quiet. It was unclear as to why it had even been done in the first place. Was it to conceal your voice? Hide your identity? 
Even then, they had already ready seen your face and might possibly have looked through your backpack. The things they’ve could’ve known about you were unknown.
Maybe it was that thing you were told as a kid that kept you holding your tongue. You know, the whole stranger danger thing? Do not interact with people that you don’t know unless absolutely necessary. 
People seemed to get stuck on specific moments in the past regardless of it directly links to a moment of stress, or trauma, if you remembered correctly what that article said. Maybe that was your thing?
Your contemplative eyes flickered over the ceiling above for another moment before they finally made the decision to move, and so did your head. Once again, it rolled to the side until your right cheek touched the pillow.
You met his eyes. His gaze anything but harsh no matter how long a silence remained.
This guys wasn’t strange. 
I mean, the concept of waking up in some massive building that you didn’t recognise with two other dudes that you had never met before was in fact a little, sure.
But there was no reason given beyond that as to why you should fear either of them. Be scared of them. 
After all the dude talking to you had in fact saved your life.
You sniffed, that same feeling of nervousness making a comeback the longer the eye contact was held. It had you needing to look away for a few seconds before your eyes went right back. You stiffly nodded your head. 
The man straightened his back against the metal, his spine probably tired of the frame digging into it. His gaze sort of narrowed for a moment. Maybe a few questions sprung into his mind? Maybe he was judging you, or needed to sneeze? Who knows.
“You just won’t.” He nodded his head once, the look in his eyes switching to something unreadable as he got the message despite the lack of words, “That’s... No. No, I get it.”
“Well, I’m Frank. Uh,” he began, dragging out the last sound for a little bit as he tried to locate something through the wall behind you, “Dude in the kitchens name is David. I usually call him Lieberman, that’s... It’s his last name-- He’s the big guy I was talking about. Dude who fixed up your arm.”
“I tried to help too, but, uh... Not exactly my field of expertise.” 
You were about to figure out some kind of gesture to make in response so that you wouldn’t leave him hanging again. And had even started to move your arm. 
But then that name cycled through your head once more. 
Frank... Castle. 
Frank Castle.
It seemed that the cogs had made their final turn once again. His face found their link to certain memories in your mind.
Holy shit. 
He was the guy on the news a while back. The dude had been deemed a vigilante as he had been running around and killing bad people-- Well, it was practically only you and a few other people that thought they were the bad guys.
Either way, after that trial thing, the man that was currently stood to the side of you had supposedly died. Killed in an explosion on some kind of boat, if you remembered correctly.
I mean, it could be that you were the one who died and this was just what came after. And honestly if you were still as delirious as you were before it might have been believable, but that pulsing burning in your shoulder said otherwise. 
So, it was true. He really was here in the flesh, and all in one piece. 
Frank Castle was alive. 
Your expression, and maybe how intensely you had been staring at him, must’ve given away your thought pattern as he sort of tilted his head when he noticed the shift in your eyes, “You know me?” This time your gaze remained unfleeting in the line of attention. 
Frank didn’t seem at all worried about the realisation of his identity. In fact the only change in his expression was done to display his curiosity to the new information. 
Sure, worst comes to worst, he has the upper hand at this moment and it would probably be the same at any other. He could do whatever he needs to do to make sure that you wouldn’t blab before you blinked even once. 
But from his worn out state, and the way he interacted with you, it was visible that he wasn’t going to do that. He must’ve been fighting for quite some time before he had stumbled upon you. 
Why the hell was he even there? Out in the open in a place like that?
Who were those other guys?
Regardless of the want to let your mind flow down that rabbit hole, you were fronted with your previous realisation as your eyes actually focused on Frank again.
You were right. Frank  Castle wasn’t the bad guy.
Without paying attention to it, there seemed to be this smile that began to curl at the corners of your mouth. You moved your head began to move back to its your previous position, your eyes wanting to find the discoloured ceiling to zone out on in a way that further made you forget about your pain--
Shoes suddenly scuffed against the hard ground in a way that stilled all over your movements. Your gaze flickered to whatever had joined you in the room as apparently you had missed the approaching footstep.
It was David, the height difference between the two guys now a lot clearer as he had stopped beside the man whose arms were yet to uncross. “Can you hold this for a second?” Until now. 
Frank sort of looked at the man for a moment, eyebrows furrowed again before he complied to the request. And the moment the plate had been taken into his hands, David moved as if on autopilot. “All right,”
He wound round the foot of your cot, taking back the same position he stood in when you woke up, “Gonna need to sit up so you can actually digest this shit.”
He felt a little bad when he saw the look on your face, though he remained still while you prepared yourself, starting to fidget with his hands. He didn’t want to touch you without permission, but it appeared that your eyes were already closed.
You slowly but surely moved the arm of your injured shoulder to sling across your torso, hoping the position would stop it from moving about too much. And then you braced yourself, awaiting whatever sensations were about to come. 
By the time a hand had been placed on your body, your teeth were already gritted. One was placed on your back, a way to properly bring guide you into the needed position, while the other gently cupped the back of your head so that everything would move in unison. 
“Deep breath.”
The pain was immediate. It was such a thing that purely seared up a side of your body. Engulfed everything in its path.
It was impossible to see from your closed eyes, but there was a reaction from the man stood to the side when a slight whine escaped your throat. He had stepped forward, looking as if he was about to reach out if he didn’t have something in one of his hands. 
It was thoughtless. A movement that he had undone the moment he had realised by pressing back against the wall. But it happened nonetheless. 
David was muttering stuff of assurance, many forms of sentences letting lose into the air. You couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t catch onto a singular word. 
All you could think about was the pain. How stupid it was that you made the decision to take that route. How you didn’t run back the way you came after that first shot. Or how you didn’t even end up trying run until it was too late. 
Your legs bent at the knees the more your torso raised, as if trying to protect it of something, which slightly kicked up your blanket and made the heels of your feet dig into the cot below. “There you go, there you go!”
It was like a ripping of a band aid. 
At first, it was the stage of holding onto the edge, trying to hype yourself to get it over and done with. And then it was off. It may give a twinge of pain that lingered more than wanted, but overall the act had been complete.
“Right on, that’s you done.”
And so had yours. 
The biggest breath of relief huffed out of your mouth in a way that had David wanting to lightly pat your back, but it could accidently hurt you. So, instead, he resorted to turning his attention Frank, hurriedly gesturing towards the thing he held.
The man in question seemed to shake his head as if trying stifle his amusement, though he took a step forward to hand over the plate either way.
And then, by the next time you had blinked, it was held out in your direction. You just looked at it for a moment. 
It was a sandwich. One that may have been made with the most simple ingredients, and was probably the exact replica of what you would picture in your head upon hearing the name, but for some reason your whole body yearned for it. 
The plate was in your hands within seconds.
David took a step back, a slight smile reappearing on his lips at the progress. He gestured to the plate you held in the same position and then towards your mouth, seeming like he couldn’t get himself to stand still, “Eat up.”
You were. 
Oh, a thousand percent, you were getting ready to chow down on something, since the last time solid food had been eaten was probably the day you had gotten shot. And even then, you had no clue as to when that was.
However, right as you were about to bring the plate onto your lap, grab onto the sandwich and consume it with the upmost excitement... You paused. Stopped right in your tracks. Eating by yourself felt a little weird.
You looked back at David. 
It took him a moment to realise that your eyes were on him again. But when he did, he sort of rocked on his feet. His eyebrows furrowed as he sent a look towards Frank, “What, um... Is it-- Is it bad, or something?”
There was a mixture of confusion and almost offence tugging at certain features and it had your head shaking immediately.
Within the next minute, it was almost like a game of charades as you attempted to relay the words in your mind. 
The plate remained in the hand it did before. You bent your left arm at the elbow, trying to avoid any movement that would attack the area surrounding your wound, and you gestured. 
The first time you pointed your index finger at him and then at the plate, but he merely blinked. So, you then did it in reverse, directing the line of attention to the plate and then him. 
Frank even seemed confused as he watched with narrowed eyes, apparently unable to deduced the situation himself which still left David with nothing. “Kid, I don’t... I can’t understand what you’re trying to say, are you-- are you allergic to something?” 
“Are you asking me what’s in it? If I made it, what--”
Biting back the biggest sigh of your life, and in the fastest way that you could in that moment, you restored to just holding out the whole plate towards him. Even repeated the previous gesture one final time to make your point. 
“Oh,” David dragged out the sound as he began to nod. Finally, he understood, “Yeah, man, I’m boutta make my own.”
He remained for only a moment more, watching as your plate slowly lowered to your lap so that it wouldn’t drop. And then he started walking again, moving back around the edge of the cot before making his way through the doorway.
Franks eyes were already on your own by the time your head turned in his direction, as if he expected it to happen. 
This time without accompanying the movement with gestures, you simply held out the plated food towards him. Franks head shook instantly, he even waved a hand, “It’s for you, kid. Need to get that strength back.” 
His eyes directed towards the kitchen almost immediately after. He was either counting on David possibly making him one or waiting for him to leave the kitchen so that he could do it himself.
Thing is though, he only gave you a reason as to why you should keep the sandwich held for yourself.
He didn’t say no. 
The plate was brought back to your legs, flat against your thighs, and then you began looking around. Your eyes scanned across any close surface for something that could be used as a cloth, something to wipe your hands with, but there was no luck. 
You resorted to just scrubbing your palms, and more importantly your finger tips, against the cleanest clothing you had under the blanket. And then you grabbed the sandwich. 
Despite what Frank thought was going to happen by the time his attention was once again redirected towards you, when the sandwich was held horizontally in your grasp, instead of bring it to your mouth and taking a bite. You began... pulling at it each side? 
It started to rip.
“What are you doing?” he questioned pretty much immediately, his face and voice both riddle with confusion. And maybe even a little disturbance. But that didn’t stop your movements at all. 
In fact the only time you had stopped was when the entire thing had been torn through the middle, completely halved. However, even after that, you reached for one of the parts. You took it from the plate, stuffing it into the hand of your unmoving arm.
And then you held out the plate all over again to the man with very furrowed eyebrows. 
He just looked at the poorly halved sandwich for a moment, a part of it being more of the contents that the bread, and then his eyes found yours. There was an unreadable expression within them.
When he still didn’t take it, and due to the fact that your arm was starting to get tired, you redid your act of holding it out towards him. 
And this time he couldn’t withhold a response. 
Frank scoffed, shaking his head in the same amusement from earlier while he stared at the plate calling his name, “You’re very persistent, aren’t ya.” 
Despite his point still standing, the consistent want for you to get the nutrients needed to fully recover, it was like he couldn’t say no to you. At least to your face. So. Frank took the plate.
The next few minutes were spent by the two of you choosing the perfect side of the sandwich and then going to town, chowing down on it like it was the first one either of you had ever had. 
And man, that David could sure make a meal, even if it was just slapping ingredients between slices of bread.
“Damn!”
Seemed like someone else agreed with you.
“So, this is what you’ve been doing all this time, huh, Lieberman? Cookin’” Franks words were incredibly muffled despite his constant chewing, but either way the sound still echoed. A laugh soon followed while something poured, “What else would I do, man? Wasn’t just gonna do nothing.”
“Well, you can add cooking to your... I don’t know, list of talents or something.” Every time that man spoke, his head lowered right back down so that he could see the plate, taking another massive bite that you were just waiting for him to start choke on.
“Why did you... Why did you say it like that?” David's voice was more monotonous than usual, either playing fake offence or he was too preoccupied with arranging the order of his sandwich ingredients. 
You took another bite, a piece of lettuce almost falling onto the blanket without you knowing. Frank turned towards the kitchen again, speaking midway through putting a part of the sandwich in his mouth, “Like what?” A plethora of crumbs fell onto the plate in a way that made your nose crinkle.
“Like... Are you lying to me? Lying isn’t very nice, Frank.” 
“Nah, come on, man, I wouldn’t-- I wouldn’t say that If I didn’t mean it, you know that-- You could put these in a-- a--  a sandwich shop--”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay,” David practically grumbled at this point, placing down what sounded like a butter knife on the counter before he sniffed, “That at least mean that our little friend likes it too?”
Frank turned to you, placing the little chunk of sandwich he had left onto his plate before he rubbed the fingers that touched it together. 
You swallowed down your bites, the act proving to be a little harder to from the lack of eating solid food, and noted the fact that he was awaiting some form of answer to relay to David. 
Your sandwich was finished by now. It wasn’t a contest but it was almost wild how fast it had been consumed. And now you sat there, wiping your hand against your trousers while attempting to get any food stuck between your teeth. 
And then you cleared your throat, your nose scrunching for a second when the action ended up shaking your chest a little too much, “Y/n.”
Frank had turned his towards the kitchen moments prior. He had parted his lips, even slightly leaned back against the wall to get a proper view of the man awaiting an answer through the empty frames. 
Now his head snapped in your direction, eyebrows raising more than you had even seen, “What was that?”
You may have made the ultimate decision to use your voice in the first place, however, having that gaze of his on you once again caused this overwhelming feeling to surge through your body. 
Your spine had straightened, this time managing to ignore the shock of pain that hit your system, while your eyes widened just a smidge.
“Is that a yes or a no?”
The echo of David's voice had caused you to turn to where he stood in the kitchen, still busied with making another one of his masterpieces. It was something done half out of anxiousness and just wanting to distract yourself.
And then it made you think.
Surrounding you was this big, more empty than full, abandoned building. The only other people there was Frank, a man who was supposed to be dead, and David... who you presumed was also most likely to be the same due to their team up. 
If they were going to kill you, or hurt you, they would have done so already. 
But even then, when you woke up this morning you hadn’t been restrained or anything. There was nothing keeping you there other than the fact that they wanted to treat your wounds. 
A deep breath filtered through your nose as your eyes slowly met with Franks again. 
His expression was practically the same as it was before you had looked away, giving you a patience no one ever had. The gaze he held was warm. Encouraging. 
Thus, you swallowed once again.
“My... name.” Your voice was hoarse from waking up not that long ago, but also from it’s lack of use. There was always this feeling in your throat as if something was stuck in it, and you coughed, the urge to squeeze your eyes shut presenting itself yet again when it shifted your shoulder.
But you composed yourself, sucking in another breath and rubbing your hands against your legs while David was still left with no answer, “It’s Y/n.”
Franks head had already been nodding before you had finished saying your set of words. He pursed his lips, finally swallowing down the bite he had previously taken.
Frank sniffed, turning his head towards the kitchen yet again. Though this time it seemed like he did so to conceal the change of his facial expression more than to get David's attention. “You hear that, Lieberman?”
Regardless of his attempts to hide his reaction, the smile was clear on his lips. Such a one that it had even reached the skin around his eyes as they started to crinkle.
He looked back at you. There was this emotion on his face that remained unchanging. It seemed like a fondness, but at the same time he almost looked... proud?
“Y/n likes it.”
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80pairsofcrocs · 2 years
Text
baby scarab || 1
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masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist
synopsis : in which a schizophrenic teenager could see a certain god
takes place after the Marvel series Moon Knight, may have spoilers?
pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic)reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader
i will be using she/her pronouns
~~~
A/N : this is all over the place btw, also fun fact, i have schizophrenia so that's kind of what motivated me in writing this. i'm going off of what i experience. pls enjoy <3
also if you want to be in the taglist, please ask! its not a problem
TW : mental disorders, child abandonment, language, fighting(?) let me know if i missed anything.
~~~
some would say its freaky,
others would say its like a superpower, like seeing ghosts is cool right?
you would say its a bit of both
you had schizophrenia, a mental disorder you have had for the past couple years, causing you to have hallucinations such as seeing shadows nobody else can, or fire where theres not fire, and that had absolutely nothing to do with ghosts, and you were labeled delusional by many peers.
you didn't take offense to it, because you were delusional. in fact your disorganized thinking has gotten you in trouble.
not because you're stupid, no, but because of others at your school making fun of you for it, you think its ok to beat them up for it.
which only fueled it. it caused others happiness to see you in trouble.
it also causes you to get suspended a lot.
such as now.
you were heading up to your apartment that you stayed in alone, since your parents dumped you in the street when you were young, and going through too many foster homes was a pain so you chose to just get your own place to call a home.
you just worked at an average paying coffee shop near your school, which you had to walk to.
you could either pay rent on time or get a car, so you thought that some cardio each morning and evening wouldn't be too bad.
you got into the elevator and saw another... man.. as well. he was in a bird costume and he was staring- or you thought he was staring at you.
"'scuse me." you move your arm past the extremely tall man to press your floors button. the bird man looked down at you with its creepy mask, and you tried to ignore it until it touched your shoulder and gasped.
you jumped and stepped away from him, thinking he was just a weirdo messing with you.
you could sense the guy staring at you so you turned your head to him. "you need something?" you ask him, to which he shakes his head slowly.
you nod and look away, but turning back when you see that nothing was attaching his head to his body, also now noticing the huge scary stick with a cresent moon on it.
your eyes widen and your breath hitches, as soon as the elevator hit your floor, you get off and speed walk to your apartment. unlocking the door took 4 tries, but that's only because you just saw some sort of demon.
your breath quickens as you finally open the door and slam it shut behind you and lock it.
you lean back against the door and listen for anything, and after a couple minutes of that, you got up and threw your bag on the couch and took of your shoes.
~~~
it had been about an hour since you got home, and you were hungry so you got up off your bed after pausing your favorite show on your phone to go to the kitchen, tossing your phone on your bed.
when you stepped into the kitchen area, you got out y/f/f and y/f/d, only to hear a knock at your door.
you stiffen up and feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. turning you head to the door, you curse yourself for scratching out the peephole since you were paranoid that someone could see you from the other side.
even though you've tried to look through it and didn't see anything.
you slowly get a wooden bat from near the door, holding it so whoever was out there couldn't see it. putting on a brave face, you open the door to see just a normal man.
he had short wavy dark hair, he also had a smile on his face as he waved at you.
"'ello there." he greeted, you loosening your grip on your bat a little as you smile back.
"hey, can i help you?" you ask him. he nods and runs a hand through his hair.
"actually, id just like to introduce myself." he starts with his british accent. "im steven. uhm- steven grant, i live a couple doors down and i realized i know all my neighbors except you." he explains, using hand gestures while he speaks
"well, my names y/n. do you need anything else?" you ask as nicely as you can, starting to feel intimidated by the taller man.
he darts his eyes to your shiny door knob for a split second.
"uh- well, I-"
"ok cool, goodbye." you cut him off starting to shut your door when you see steven shake his head like a dog then stop the door with his hand, glaring at you all of a sudden.
you furrow your brows at this, and tighten your grip on the bat as you try and push the door closed when the man pushed it open, almost making you fall backwards, him immediately slamming it back closed after.
you hurry and swing your bat at the man, but he catches it in his hands before it could hit him. he yanks it from your grip and tosses it aside.
your breathing quickens, and you back away from him, looking around the room for anything to help you when you spot a vase you found at a thrift store.
'oh well, it was only 2 dollars..'
you pick it up and chuck it at the man who was getting closer to you, only for him to block it with his arm, still breaking and cutting his arm.
he looked offended, and looked at the small cut it made, before turning to you who starts running towards your room, hearing him chasing after you.
you of course, a 16 year old girl, is slower than an adult man so he catches up before you get halfway to your room.
he yanks on the back of your shirt and pulls you to him so that he has an arm wrapped around your flailing arms to keep them still and a hand covering your mouth to prevent you from screaming.
"calm down, kid." he orders, his british accent gone and turned into an american one, making you confused.
you try to kick him which results in him tightening his hold on you as a warning.
he takes a breath, you feel him shake his head from behind you. "you done? i just gotta ask you something" he tells you in a cocky tone.
"are you gonna be quiet?" he asks you, and when you nod frantically he takes the hand off your mouth and moves it to hold you better to not risk you running off.
you take a couple shaky breaths. "good." he starts. "now, are you one of them?" this made you confused more than anything.
"o-one of what?" you ask him quietly. you hear him scoff.
"don't play dumb with me, kid." he starts. "you know what? let me just see your arms." which made you even more confused.
before you could say anything, he turns you around and lifts up your sleeves and looks both your arms over before letting go and running a hand through his hair in defeat.
you back up as soon as he turned around to pace about your apartment. you stand there awkwardly, watching this stranger pace around and and start yelling at anything with a reflective surface.
"yes, i know she could see him!" you hear him yelling into a mirror you had hanging on one of your walls, the thing that made your stomach twist was the fact that the reflection wasnt matching the person.
"oh my god..-" you mutter to yourself, going to go sit on your couch, far enough away from 'steven', but close enough to make sure he doesn't do anything.
"no! you cant have control, i need to know why she-"
"marc" the man in the mirror makes eye contact with you and points in your direction.
he whips his head around at you and walks over to you, putting an arm on each side of you, caging you in between him and the couch you wish you could lean back more in.
"how are you doing that?" he asks lowly. you don't answer, which makes him mad.
he slams a hand down, making you jump. "i asked you a question and i expect an answer." he begins. "are you trying to unleash ammit again? huh? maybe a friend of harrow trying to get revenge?" he lists off making you tilt your head in confusion.
"what the fuck are you talking about?" you gain confidence, which makes the man furrowed his brows at you.
"you don't- shut up steven" he looks to the mirror, to which you look as well.
the guy in the mirror sees that you're looking at him, so he turns to you. "you can hear me, can't you? see me too?" he asks rhetorically. you nod slowly and take a deep breath.
the man in the mirror was the man at the door, but the guy who pushed his way in? you had no clue.
"marc, please let me talk to her properly!" he turns back to the guy still hovering over you. "you're scaring her!" he pleads, which makes the guy above you roll his eyes.
he jumps up and shakes his head again, this time looking back at you with a small smile.
"so. i take it you've met marc, eh?" he asks, sitting next to you instead of threatening you, yet you still lean back.
"what?" you are completely clueless.
"listen, i'll explain the best i can, is that alright?" he asks you carefully, and you nod.
"right! so i'm steven" he gestures to himself. "and that's marc" he points to the mirror, to see 'marc' shaking his head. "we are two people that live in the same body, do you get it?" he asks you, and you nod again.
"so it was y/n right?" another nod. "thats a nice name, i'm so sorry about marc by the way." he apologizes for marc.
you just stare at steven in shock, not knowing what to say. "whats ammit?" you eventually speak up, making steven hum in thought. "and all those other things he was talking about" you question.
steven chuckles breathily, and claps his hands together lightly. "well, marc would be better at explaining it than me, plus its getting late and i-"
"let me out steven"
"no"
you look between the two arguing, and smile slightly. "steven i wont hurt her just let me out. just for a minute." marc argues from the mirror.
steven sighs and rubs his hands down his face and looks to you. "is it alright if marc comes out for a minute?" he asks you, to which you hesitantly nod.
and another head shake later, a more stern expression takes over the once friendly face, signalling marc was back.
he smirks at you and helps you up by your hands all of a sudden, making you gasp.
"hey, kid i'm not gonna hurt ya, just let me show you something" he chuckles to himself.
"what are you-" before you can finish your sentence, he turn you around, back pressed against his chest and him holding your shoulders to keep you from moving too much.
you hear him chuckle again, moving you so that you're facing an open space in your home. you become confused again at why marc thought this was funny.
"khonshu" marc says as he tightens his grip on your shoulders.
you were about to just walk away when the bird demon phases through the wall, and starts walking towards you and marc.
your eyes widen and you try to get away from it, but marc prevented that and began walking you closer to the extremely tall bird, you still trying to get marc off you.
"nO-" you start to yell curses at the man holding you, hes just forcing you towards the bird with a smile on his face.
"so the little mortal can see me" a voice comes from the birds direction.
you stare up at the skeletal head which is tilted curiously in your direction, you frozen not knowing what to do.
"careful y/n, he can smell fear" marc whispers in your ear, making you jump and turn your head to him. he had taken his hands off you, just hovering behind you to block you from running.
"marc stop it! y/n! he cant smell fear he's just a dumb pigeon" you hear steven from the mirror.
"i chose the wrong day to get suspended." you mumble to yourself.
the death pigeon takes a small step closer to you, and you cant help but panic so you take you best shot and punch the bony beak as hard as you can.
your hand feels like its on fire as you hold it to your chest. the bird has turned away holding its beak and marc was staring at you in shock from behind you.
"oH MY GOD!" you shout. "i'm so sorry i-i didn't-"
you get cut off by marc laughing behind you, turning around you glare at him.
he sighs and shakes his head. "aw man, you got spunk, kid." he tells you. clutching you hand to your chest you turn back around to the bird, whos looking at you.
"'m sorry" you apologize to him. he grunts and looks to marc.
"can we keep it?" he asks marc, but stevens the one to answer from the mirror.
"shes not an 'it', khonshu."
"can it, worm"
"oh, i get it now" you say, all heads turning to you. "this isn't real" you deadpan. "i'm dreaming again" you try to convince yourself.
"what?" marc asks confused, giving you a look.
"mhmm. what time is it?" you frantically look around.
"its 8:12" steven says from the mirror making your eyes widen. "shit"
you speed walk to your bathroom to retrieve an orange pill bottle before taking two out and swallowing them dry in the middle of your living room.
the three just looking at you in confusion. "whats that for?" steven asks.
"look for yourself." you toss the bottle to marc, a rattling echoes through the room as you shuffle through your kitchen for some new food.
marc wanders into the kitchen area, khonshu looking at all the random stuff you had laying around. "you're schizophrenic?" he asks you, making you turn to him.
"no, they gave me the wrong bottle." you answer sarcastically, marc giving you a look. "yeah. its pretty severe and its probably why i can see your.. weird friend." you gesture to khonshu, whos poking the ceiling with his moon stick.
marc sighs. "if its so bad that you can see an egyptian god then how come your parents dont do anything about it?" he asks kind of rudely.
you look up at him and snatch your pills back from his hand. "i live alone. i dont know where my parents are." you say truthfully, the sympathetic look on marcs face being unseen as you turn back around to put the bottle on the counter.
"listen kid, you cant tell anyone about this alright?" marc gestures to everything around him. you shrug.
"whatever" you mutter, forgetting about the food and moving to pick up the broken pieces of the vase that are scattered across the floor.
you gather the jagged piece of dried clay and throw them away, ignoring the stares from the three beings in the room.
sitting down again on the couch, you put your head in your hands for a second before running them down your face and leaning back, staring at the wall as you feel the couch dip from beside you.
theres a quiet sigh. "would it be innapropriate to invite you over for supper?" thats stevens voice again. you look to him and shrug again. "is this an elaborate sceme to murder me?" you ask him seriously.
you see him internally panic. "oH- nononononono- i just noticed you didnt have much in your cupboards, thats all" he confesses, and you look over to your open cabinets and notice that you do in fact, have barely any food.
you crack your neck and nod to yourself. “only if you elaborate on all of.. this." you gesture to the murder bird and marc in the reflection of the mirror.
steven nods and smiles to you. "of course" he agrees and helps you up, leaving your apartment to go over to the messy one a few doors down.
that night you made a couple weird friends. they got even weirder after steven and marc took turns explaining how exactly they got into their situation.
and khonshu was giving you advice on how to kill your parents if you ever met them. he claimed that they 'were not worthy' and that you needed to break their windpipes.
you just assumed that it was because somebody other than marc and 'the worm' could see him.
but either way, its wasn't a bad day after all
~~~
A/N : okay this took longer than i wanted it to smh. hope you like it and i'm already thinking about turning this into a mini series.
if it gets enough likes i will bc i have ideas but it would also help if i got some requests for the next one??
either way, thanks for reading.
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Nonexistent Eating Patterns
Pairings: Matt Murdock x gn!teen!reader
Imagine: you haven’t been eating sleeping or drinking as you should and Matt is there to help
Warnings: not eating, anxiety, dehydration, sleep deprived, mention of panic/anxiety attacks, mention of depression, feeling sick, mention of school and exams and grades, Soft Matt Murdock (that is a warning), idk what more
A/N for starters this is probably shitty, bc wrote this late at night to be able to cope with my current life/mental/physical health. So wrote this to bring me some sort of comfort, so yeah this is probably shitty and I have not proofread it, but ya know that’s fine I guess :)
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You didn’t know why, but once a year there was always this period of time where you ate far too little. More so than usual. The other times when you occasionally skipped lunch or breakfast or your usual midnight snack it was always fine, because you only skipped one of those and only once a week at a maximum. But now. Now you have skipped breakfast and your midnight snack the whole week, and lunch nearly every day. You had eaten maybe four times overall this week and your health was not having it. Because at those times when you did eat you didn’t eat much, you nearly spat out the food you ate. Nor did you get hungry. You only had that stomach ache where deep down you knew it came from you not eating, but you didn’t want to acknowledge that. So instead you laid curled up in your bed, hands by your head trying to soothe the migraine and your knees up to your chest while watching some random show on the TV. It was one of two positions that made the ache bearable.
Matt — your “guardian”, and who you shared an apartment with — knew you hadn’t been eating well. Of Course he knew, he was the devil of Hell’s Kitchen after all. Something like that would not get past him, but he didn’t want to push things on you, he didn’t want to push you to eat because it wouldn’t work as long as you didn’t do something yourself. As long as you didn’t ask for help he knew you wouldn’t eat. He knew your condition only got worse with your horrible sleeping patterns, and let’s not forget you were probably dehydrated. It seemed like you didn’t ever get tired, hungry or thirsty. Matt wanted to help you, but as long as you didn’t want the help nothing would change. Because one of the worst things is when a person doesn’t want help, and it’s hard to help them when they don’t want the help, especially with this. So he let it be for the time being, until he felt it had been going on for too long.
You’d had more panic and anxiety attacks this month than you usually had and your depression had kicked in not long ago. Which meant that you were less likely to start eating and sleeping. The only thing that kept you occupied was watching movies and series. You couldn’t do any school work, because that just made you anxious. Even though you didn’t have much in school at the moment (if you compare to other times), you still felt like everything was too much. You were supposed to have five exams, you had one today, which ended badly. The next two were next week, and then two after each other the next three coming weeks. On top of that you were just confused by everything in school and even if you studied you didn’t get the high grades. Everything was just too much at the moment with school, depression, anxiety overall, plus the attacks and panic attacks, let’s not forget not eating, drinking or sleeping. At the very moment you were screwed and you’d gone so deep down that you had no idea what to do.
Every day you felt like you would have an attack, every day you felt like you wanted to cry and scream until next year came. But you couldn’t even force a tear out of your eyes or a scream out of your throat, for some reason you just couldn’t. So you opted to lay in bed and watch movies all weekend instead of studying for your next exam because you wouldn’t understand anything anyway (and the teacher couldn’t explain it to you either).
It was night by the time Matt came home again, he’d called various times during the day to make sure you ate something, though you hadn’t really followed that, as you just took one bite out of your sandwich before you had to throw it away feeling like you’d puke by eating it. So when he came home and heard you were still awake as well as when he noticed you hadn’t eaten, he went into your room, and you in a poor attempt tried to even your breath to make it sound like you were sleeping — even though you knew full well it wouldn’t work.
“I know you’re awake”
Matt sat himself beside you on your bed. Making sure you listened to him as he continued.
“I know you didn’t eat today” he touched your arm gently, which went unnoticed by you, as you continued to stare out in the distance after you had opened your eyes. He touched your arm once more, and this time you felt it as your eyes slightly wandered to his hand which was carefully placed on your arm once more. Your hands had long since started to fiddle with your blanket in an attempt to hide the fact that your hands were shaking from the anxiety that came with being confronted with your nonexistent eating patterns.
“If I make you a sandwich will you eat it” you only shook your head in answer, you knew with the help of his heightened senses he would pick it up, but just in case you answered with a no as well.
“Can you at least drink a glass of water?” you shook your head and said no once more. Matt sighed and after a few moments he went out of your room. He went into the kitchen and took out some candy from one of the cupboards — the candy he hid away for special occasions. Matt also went and got a glass as he tapped on the water. When he heard it flow down he put the glass underneath and waited for the water to fill up the glass (can he now that?). He also put the candy in a bowl and went into your room again.
The darkness in your room made it hard for you to see, the movie had gone onto the credit scenes and the black background did nothing to help you see what Matt did. You only heard something being put down on your nightstand and felt Matt move around in front of you (as you were facing that way). He took up his previous position on your bed and made you sit up, as well as tell you to put on your favorite movie, he didn’t care if he couldn’t see it nor if you had already seen it today, it was the best way to distract you.
When the movie had started to roll he started to talk. “I know candy isn’t exactly food, or the food you need right now, but you eating anything is a progress, so can you at least eat some of it” your breathing had stopped for a few seconds, scared of even trying to eat as it made your stomach ache. Matt felt this, and added to his previous words. “Please Y/N, if you won’t do it for me, do it for yourself, I know that deep inside you want to get better, you’re just scared to try, scared that it might get worse, but I promise it won’t, it’ll only get better” he felt your head slowly nod as you slowly reached over to the bowl. “How do you know that” Matt sighed softly once more, he knew that if he said the wrong thing it’d make you put away the bowl. “Because it has before hasn’t it, before it went way too far until you needed to get help, because you couldn’t do anything, I just want to help you before we get to that, okay” you hummed at his answer and picked up a chocolate bar. When you put it in your mouth it melted and you got a tiny moment were you felt like everything would be okay, the sweetness was nice, it was far better than eating a sandwich that’s for sure. With that you took another candy bar and eventually you had eaten all of it, while being distracted by the movie in front of you. Matt had listened in on you while you ate, making sure you were okay. He drowned away everything but you, only focusing on you, to make sure you were nothing but okay.
After a few moments your stomach started to ache, it felt like it harnessed everything you ate. Matt made you drink the glass of water before he laid you down on the bed. His arms wrapped around you, as he cuddled close to you, giving you comfort. You breathed in his scent and felt his overall calmness — which always seemed to calm you down in turn. It was like he transferred some of his calmness over to you.
Eventually Matt felt your even breaths as you for once actually slept. That’s when he promised that he’d make sure that you actually ate the next following days, because he didn’t ever want to experience this with you ever again. Though if it did happen again he would always be there to help you, over and over again.
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pollensweetchimera · 9 months
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Y/n: He died of natural causes
Steven: you pushed him off a roof
Y/n: Gravity is natural
Loki: it would be More unnatural if he survive
Y/n: right.
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moiravim · 1 year
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Overprotective
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Overprotective!Dad!Stephen Strange x GN!teen!yn
Platonic!America Chavez x GN!teen!YN
summary: living with Steven Strange as your dad
Stephen was always extremely overprotective of you. He would let you have fun but he'd always be by your side.
He'd do anything to keep you happy but sometimes he didn't know what you needed. He'd shower you in gifts and try to spend as much time with you as possible, but often got held up at work.
That was until he had gotten in a car accident and could no longer work in the hospital. He was heartbroken but stayed strong around you.
When he started working in the Sanctum Sanctorum he became much happier and started healing. He'd spend hours every day with you. He loves teaching you everything he knows.
During the events of Infinity War he made you stay at home. He was worried you'd get hurt and decided it was the best option.
When he got back after the blip he became even more protective. He had realized how easy it is to loose people and he can't loose you.
He never leaves your side unless he's doing something he believes is dangerous. Then he'll make you stay with Wong and on rare occasions Christine.
When you meet America the two of you immediately become friends. It was nice for you to finally be around someone your age.
He'd let the two of you go out by yourselves but don't think he's against grounding you if you get into trouble.
Stephen takes your safety very seriously and won't let you out yourself at risk.
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jaozendry · 1 year
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"I wouldn't settle for anything less."
Pairing: Shang-Chi x GN!Reader
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Type: Fluff
Warnings: mild swearing
Summary: You were acquainted to Shaun in a very unexpected way. It was on a bus, you were exhausted from a long day at work. As you miss your stop due to your slumber, the young man proposes something to your half-awake self. This leads to the start of something life changing. ______________________________________________________________
The first time you met Shaun was quite... interesting, to say the least. You could barely remember that faithful day. You were so tired, he had to wake you up during the bus ride to make sure you didn't miss your stop. He sat next to you every day, even though you were a complete stranger to him. He did know one thing about you, though; your bus stop. He tried to wake you up before the stop, but it was too late: you slumbered on the public transport too much. As he was tapping your shoulder, you finally woke up from your nap, still half-asleep.
"Hey, uh... you kind of missed your bus stop..." he tells you quielty, which immediately wakes you up. As you look around, realizing that you did indeed miss your bus stop, you whisper to yourself: "Oh, for fuck's sake." The young man closes his phone and proposes a solution to you. "If you want, my stop is not far from yours and you could sleep at my place tonight. I have a spare bed and I could drive you home tomorrow morning." Barely awake and exhausted from your day at work, you reply in the most subtle manner known to man, but somehow loud enough for Shaun to hear. "Yeah, sure, that sounds great." you yawn, as you rest on his shoulder.
______________________________________________________________
You wake up to the sound of birds singing and to the smell of crackling bacon. You stand up, still in yesterday's clothes and try to recognize the room you're currently situated in: it's completely unkown to you. You decide to get out of bed and head for the stairs when you suddenly hear footsteps: it's the boy from yesterday.
"Oh, hey, I didn't know you were awake. I was going to have breakfast. You're welcome to join if you want." he says, not realizing he's literally shirtless in front of you. You took a quick second to admire his amazing body before you nod in agreement. As he walks to his room, you interrupt him: "Hey, uh, I never got to thank you" you say as he quickly turns around and smiles at you. "Oh, it's no problem, really. By the way, I never got your name." Realizing you were never officially acquainted, you giggle nervously. "Ah, yeah... uh... I'm Y/N." As he heads to his room, he replies: "I'm Shaun. Nice to meet you."
Shaun notices as you anxiously eat breakfast. "You ok?" he asks, concerned. "Oh, it's nothing. I was just wondering how I ended up here. I have like, no idea what happened yesterday." you explain while stumbling over your words. "Ah, I see." he says after taking a bite. "Well, you fell fast aleep on the bus. I didn't want to wake you up, so I picked you up. I also got your stuff" he explains as he points to your bag lying on the couch. "You picked me up... like... damsel in distress style?" you ask, smiling like a complete idiot, hiding your cheek. "Yeah.", he replies softly, blushing, earning a little laugh from you. He continues explaining: "After that, I put you to bed and made sure you were as comfortable as possible." he says while slightly hiding his face. You thank him before standing up and asking where the bathroom is. He points to a door as you head that way.
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You thank Shaun for the night and the ride as you arrive to your place.
"Hey, maybe we can hang out when I'm fully conscious sometime." you propose while smirking.
"Yeah, that sounds great." he answers. "Do you have a phone number?"
"Yeah, I do." you say before spelling it out as he notes it down on his phone.
"Thanks, Shaun." you thank him again after kissing his cheek. "See you later!"
"Bye, Y/N!"
When you close the door behind you, he whispers to himself:
"Shit, I think I'm in love."
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"Hey." you say awkwardly as you open the door.
"Hey." he replies as awkwardly.
You both chuckle before he comes into your place, handing you flowers. "Shaun... you shouldn't have." you say while smiling like an idiot. Shaun chuckles and kisses you on the forehead. You've been gashlighting yourself into believing you didn't have a crush on him until today. Now, you fully embrace it. "I love you, Shaun." you whisper to him. He smiles. "I love you too." he responds holding both of your shoulders gently. "Also, call me Shang-Chi." You run through his hair before sharing a kiss. You pull away slowly. "Movies?" you ask with a slight smirk. "Movies." Shang-Chi says, chuckling.
______________________________________________________________
You fell alseep on his shoulder during the movies. This reminds him of the time you first met, on that bus. As he holds your hand, he whispers to your slumbering self.
"I love you, Y/N. I always did and I always will."
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marvelflame2010 · 1 year
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Peter: And she even gave us the same book!
Harley: When she gave it to you, did she say-
Peter and Harley: It's one of a kind, just like you? *groans*
Peter: At least she wrote Peter in mine and Harley in yours
Harley: Yeah, wait. Mine says to Harry!
Ned: Maybe she's dating a third guy named Harry
*Everyone stares at Ned*
Ned: Too soon?
Y/n: Now that we know Liz is a stinking cheater, let's talk about revenge, once again, I offer the butter sock and knife
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pixiexdusts-world · 1 year
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Marvel social media :)
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verybadatwriting · 10 months
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The Winged One
Summary: Bucky falls off the train, but HYDRA doesn't catch him. Someone else does.
Warnings: a fall from a great height, descriptions of fever/sickness/infection,
Notes: Uhhh. I guess you get two fics in one day after me not posting in months. I'm open to doing a part 2, if anybody wants that. Reader is a person, but with wings. (They're an Inhuman, which are kinda like the Mutants) Part 2 is out now! :D
Gn!reader
Word Count: 2,765
A train passed by somewhere far overhead. It almost didn’t warrant note, since it happened fairly often. The white of your wings concealed you perfectly in the snowy landscape. You continued walking when all of a sudden you heard an impact somewhere off to your left. Interested, you picked your way through the low shrubbery in that direction.
There, lying on the cold ground, was a man. His whole left arm was all crushed, and he wasn’t conscious. You knelt next to him, and was surprised to discover that his heart was still beating. Unslinging your bag from your shoulder, you tore off the strap and fastened it into a tourniquet around the small bit of arm left. You straightened up as you finished, and started to figure out what to do with him. 
One fear you had was that he could be a Snake Worshiper. Those foul men had been stinking up the area; forcing train tracks into the landscape, scaring off the animals, and crafting forts and encampments into the woods you once hunted in. 
While thinking, you triaged the man. If you decided to help him, you’d need to know what you’re getting yourself into. His left arm was mostly gone, and the rest of his body was littered with bumps and scrapes. There was a fracture in his collarbone, and one particular bruise on his forehead had you worried that he may have a concussion. 
Then his eyes opened.
“Who are,” He began, but the pain hit him and he gasped. You’d been around the surrounding military bases enough to hear the ways the Snake Worshipers talked, and this was not it. They spoke with harsher consonants and longer words. 
“I am here to assist you.” You said, wishing that you had paid closer attention to this language’s flow. You had some key part of the rhythm off, and it seemed to take the man a few seconds to figure out what you meant. Once he comprehended that you weren’t going to hurt him, he seemed to relax, just a little bit.
Snow began to fall again, and you knew time was ticking. If you were going to save this guy, you would have to do something now. You pulled his remaining arm around your shoulders, and began to walk, half dragging him along. He tried his darndest to help, but it still wasn’t easy going. 
A few paces away from your hovel in the side of a hill, he completely gave out and he tumbled to the ground. The snow was really falling now as you grabbed him and dragged with all your might. You opened the door, dragged him inside, and shut it behind you. After you got a fire going, you rolled him near it, and collapsed into bed. You’d deal with him tomorrow. 
It was not long after sunrise when you awoke. You went just outside the door and dug a pot of soup out from under the thick layer of snow. It was fully frozen, so you smashed off two sizable chunks. You left the rest of it in the pot outside, and brought the chunks in with you to melt over the fire.
At some point you became aware that the man was conscious and observing you. You continued on as normal, and dished out the now-hot soup into two bowls. Turning, you set them on the floor between the two of you, and passed him a spoon. 
But when he tried to sit up, he found that his left arm failed to push off from the ground. He glanced down and dropped the spoon. Horror spread across his face as he stared at the empty spot where his arm used to be. His eyes turned to you.
“The fall.” You tried to explain using the man’s language,“Falling.”
“Oh.” He said. He adjusted, and managed to lean against the bed next to him. Looking around, he took in the room for the first time. 
The walls were made of dirt, the bed had a thick quilt, and he was lying on one as well. There was a shoddily made wicker chair in one corner, and a heavy door with a mat rolled up against the cracks to keep the cold from seeping in. Nothing was level or smooth. It was like it had been made by a very inexperienced craftsman. The room was dark, but would have been pitchblack if not for the roaring fire. The room was small enough that one hearth was enough to warm the whole place.
He then looked at you, and you stared back. You were an unkempt, wild looking teen with two giant wings, eating soup out of a homemade bowl and beckoning for him to do the same. He picked up his spoon and began to eat. He found he was insanely hungry, and devoured it.
Seeing that he’d finished his serving, you took his dish and rose to grab him another from the pot out in the snow.
“Wait,” He said, “Kid, where are you going?” But you didn’t understand his words, so you continued on and opened the door. A cold wall of air flooded the room as you left. The man shivered and pulled the blanket closer around him. 
When you came back inside carrying a pot, and set it on the fire, he seemed to understand. After he’d eaten his fill, the pot was empty. It was meant to last you a few more days, but that didn’t really matter. One less man was dead. On that note, you needed to figure out who this guy was.
“I am,” You said, pointing to yourself, “Y/n.”
The man paused for a second, then pointed at you and repeated your name. You nodded. Then he motioned to himself.
“Bucky.”
The next morning, he was well enough to walk, and so he followed you all around and helped with the basic chores of your days. Foraging, checking traps, repairing old things, really anything that was needed. 
After a day or two of trying to figure each other's language out, Bucky seemed to pick the basics of yours and vice versa. When you added this to a little bit of the Snake Worshiper’s language – Which Bucky told you was German – you’d created a strange mash of language. 
As you showed him how to make a hare trap, he inquired about the elephant in the room.
“How did you get those wings?” He asked, “Were you born with them or…?”
“Oh.” You inhaled, “I don’t really remember the story that goes along with them, nor do I like to remember it. All I know is I was born a normal person, then touched a strange rock and was cocooned in it for hours, and when I emerged I had these.
“My mother was concerned, so she brought me to the town’s cleric, who decided it was best if I was left in the woods for nature to reclaim, since I was obviously cursed. My mother didn’t much like that idea, but she had to go along with it. She sent me out here with the barebones supplies I’d need to survive.”
“I’m so sorry.” Bucky said, “How have you been out here alone?”
“Five winters, give or take.” You replied, “What about you? How did you come to fall from a Snake Worshiper’s train into this valley?”
“Steve – he's the friend I told you about –  Gabe Jones, and I were trying to stop some mad scientist who was on the train. It didn’t go too well.”
“I know.”
“I've been meaning to ask you,” He said, “Do you think it's possible that you could help me get back to my camp?”
“Maybe…” You said, “Let's finish this trap and then I'll show you something.”
“Here it is.” You said, opening a small box you kept on the least crooked shelf. You pulled out an old, faded piece of paper. It was rough around the edges. 
“I’ve been mapping out the actions of any newcomers to the area,” You said, pointing to specific parts of the paper, “Here is where I think your camp is. This thick line is the train tracks. And over in this dark splotch is a Snake Worshiper base.”
“Snake Worshiper… the ones that speak German?” Bucky asked. You nodded. 
“Okay. Where are we on here?” Bucky asked.
“Well…” You sighed, “That's the problem. We're all the way over here.” You poked a spot worryingly close to the Snake Worshiper's base. “And your people's camp is all the way over yonder. It's as far as I've mapped, since I don't have much paper.”
“How long did it take you to map all this?” Bucky asked. 
“It only took me a day's journey to get from home to the – what did you call them? Allies? – base. Sadly for you, I was flying. On foot, that would take close to three days.”
“Should we start preparing for the trip?”
“Of course.”
Hunting, fishing, gathering, even some sewing, was required to prepare. The work went by faster when you had a helping hand, and it gave Bucky a chance to learn how to navigate life with only a single arm.
Everything was almost ready, and you could probably leave in a day or two, but that evening, as you were unwrapping the area where his arm used to be, you noticed it looked strange and had an unpleasant smell.
“Well…” You said, after cleaning the wound, “I think it’s infected. I know some herbs that could help, but it’s a bad one.”
“It was normal this morning.” Bucky said in awe.
“That just means it’s moving fast.”
“How bad is it?”
“I don’t think you’ll survive unless your people have some way of fixing this.” 
“Oh.”
“Our objective doesn’t change, just the degree of urgency.” You said, “We’ve still got to get you back as soon as possible. If it gets worse on the trip, we just have to push through it.”
The next morning, you two were out the door as the sun rose. You had enough food and water to last for the trip, and a sack of herbs that could lessen the infection’s power. He took one dose in the morning. 
That first day of travel was brutal, but not the worst. Occasionally, you’d fly ahead to ensure your navigation was correct. Aside from that, you two walked side by side and talked. It was mostly you asking about his people and his base.
“What’s the food like?”
“It’s not great out here,” He said, “But that’s just because of the war.”
“So there was a time before?”
“Of course!” His face lit up a little as he remembered, and started rambling. “We’d have things like fresh bread, pies, chicken, and meatloaf. Sometimes, as a treat, we’d have pancakes for breakfast. Those were the best days…”
The conversation went on, but over the course of the day his energy decreased and his words became jumbled. His pace slowed, and by the time the sun started to dip beneath the trees, he was barely trudging along. 
As you set up a fire, Bucky was trying to string two hammocks between trees. Eventually, you just told him to sit by the fire and hung them by yourself. You cooked, and then shared a meal with him. He was crashing, fast. To try and combat it, you gave him tea brewed from the herbs, and told him to sleep.
The next morning you packed up the camp, all besides Bucky and his hammock. When you went to wake him he woke up and started incoherently murmuring. He was burning up, sweating, and shivering– definitely in no condition to complete the journey. But you knew if he didn’t make it to his people’s base he wouldn’t make it anywhere.
You wouldn't help him survive this long just to die of an infection in the icy forest. He didn’t survive the fall just for a few days of misery. He didn’t walk a whole day for this. He didn’t learn a whole new language for this. He couldn’t die today.  
So you came up with a plan. After gathering some thin but sturdy strips of wood, you tied them together with strips of your hammock. With a lot of work, you managed to fashion a sort of sled. It had ropes at the front you could pull it from, and a spot for Bucky to lie on top of the bags. 
Carefully, you maneuvered the sled underneath his hammock, and loosened the ropes securing him. He slid down and landed right where he was meant to. He awoke slightly, and looked very confused.
“Hey, you’re okay.” You said, “We’re gonna get you home.”
He seemed to calm down after that. You looped the strap across yourself, and started to pull Bucky across the snow-covered landscape. You swept across the snow, and you barely stopped around noon for a swig of water, to get a bite to eat, and to check on Bucky. He was disoriented, so it took a bit of convincing to get him to drink a few sips of water.
It wasn’t horrible, that first day pulling the sled. Once the sun started to set, you contemplated stopping and sleeping. The pitch darkness surrounded you, so you lit a torch. Shadows flickered at the edges of the light, sometimes looking like a pair of eyes. You wedged the torch into a crack in the ground, to keep it upright while you slept.
You sat Bucky up, and gave him some more water. You wrapped him in as many blankets as you had, then sat at his feet on the edge of the sled. It was deathly cold, but you’d been through this before. During the first few nights after the Cleric had cast you out, you’d figured out that you could tuck your knees to your chest and shield yourself from the cold with your wings.
About halfway through the night you were awoken by a gagging sound. Turns out, Bucky’s infection had gotten worse, his fever raged on, and he was now heaving up the few sips of water he’d had. You sat him up and turned him so he would throw up into the snow, and not choke.
After you were reasonably sure he was done, you decided to continue onwards, despite the night. You grabbed the now long extinguished torch and pushed off the ground into the sky to see if you recognized anything. 
Far ahead, there was a river. If you moved fast, you could probably reach it by dawn. Then you could stop for a bit, refill water and such. You enjoyed the air swirling around you, making you feel weightless. But you knew you had to descend sooner or later. You dipped your wings, and glided downwards. To combat the forward motion, you angled them to swoop in a slow spiral.
Landing softly, you checked on Bucky once again. His arm was much worse. You cleaned it, applied more herbs, and wrapped it back up. It looked quite painful, and you could only hope that he couldn’t feel it through his feverish sleep. 
All day was spent sprinting through the forest. Night fell, and you could tell you were drawing close to the Allied base. The shrubs were growing sparse, and the smells of humanity wafted through the air. Right when the camp was in view, you stopped. Shrouded in darkness and trees, you unhooked yourself from the sled. 
Taking one loop of Bucky’s hammock in each hand, you rose steeply into the air. From above, the camp seemed like a maze of tents. You searched for a symbol of a red ‘x’ on its side, which Bucky had told you was the doctor’s emblem. After spying a tent bearing the sign, you awkwardly descended to the ground. 
You untangled Bucky from the hammock, and balled it up. He hadn’t gained consciousness all day. His only hope was the doctors here.
Taking a breath to steady yourself, you knelt next to him.
“Goodbye.” You whispered, “Thank you for being my friend.” You took a large stick and banged it against the metal pole of the tent to draw attention to him before you flew away. As you soared into the woods, you glanced back. People streamed over, and you could barely see them taking Bucky into the tent.
After bringing the sled deeper into the woods, you set off for home.
Part 2
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