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heytheredelulu · 1 month

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I was wondering if you could do maybe a like feral Bucky? Like maybe they trigger the soldat and instead of him fallowing their orders he goes after the shy curvy little intern of Tony’s? They’ve both been too shy to make a move. I’m cool with whatever spin you put on it, I LOVE your writing.

(Love all your normal kinks so feel free to add those too as you see fit! )

Thank you lovely 🥰 Can’t wait to drool over more of your writing lol

I took this and RAN with it.

It ended up becoming much longer than I had anticipated so this one will be broken up into two parts.

I struggled with trying to incorporate Bucky being triggered after the reader already being somewhat aquatinted with him, pining after him, etc. so I went the route I did and I hope it fulfills your request!

Part one will be mostly just plot building with a spicy cliff hanger leading us into a part two of pure smut.

Ready to Comply - Part One - Anon Request

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

Word Count: 2.5k

C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, choking, blood (Bucky is strugglin’ and bites his own hand), a lil sexual tension in prep for part two, he sniffs her coochie, okay?

“Okay, stop. Stop that.” Tony whispered out of the corner of his mouth. You shot him a glance and tugged at your skirt one more time for good measure. He lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. “You look fine, Rookie. Very professional. Is that what you needed to hear?”

You scoff and shake your head. “That’s no- I’m not fishing for compliments, I genuinely hate dressing like a fucking secretary.” You grumble, drawing a laugh out of Tony. “And don’t call me ‘Rookie.’” You add with a prod to his chest. He brushes the front of his suit jacket sarcastically in response to your poke and raises his hands defensively, a soft chuckle rising from his throat.

“A fucking secretary? Really? It’s business professional. Did you think I could let you stand next to me in a press conference wearing an old t-shirt and some torn up jeans? We need to create a semblance of professionalism.” He gestures to his own attire with a grin and there’s a teasing glint in his eye as he continues.

“And what’s wrong with ‘Rookie’? You’re my little protégé.” He jests, reaching like he’s going to pinch your cheek as if you were some adorable little toddler. You frown, swatting his hand away and brings it to his chest, clutching it dramatically. “Wow, you’re going to assault your friend, mentor and extremely rich and handsome boss?” He jokes, feigning offense.

“The only accurate adjective in that sentence is ‘boss’, Sir.” You reply dryly, crossing your arms. The corners of his lips twitch into a sly smile and he nudges you with his elbow. “I’ll accept if you don’t agree with friend and mentor.” He starts, pressing his lips into a pout. “But I might actually get a little offended if you refuse to acknowledge how devastatingly handsome I am.”

You groan in annoyance and roll your eyes, preparing a witty comeback when Pepper Potts rounds the corner with a tablet cradled in her arm, a phone nestled between her ear and shoulder and an expression of concern written across her face.

“Everything alright?” Tony asks, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me.. another offer for People’s ‘sexiest man alive’? I keep telling them, I can’t be on the cover every ye-“ Tony stops mid sentence as Pepper’s manicured forefinger lands on his lips, effectively silencing him.

“Yes. Okay. Understood. Thank you.” She says curtly into the phone before disconnecting the call. “That was Fury. We have an issue. A Barnes issue.”

Your brows furrow at this. “What��s happened with Bucky?” You ask, a sense of dread creeping up your spine. He’d been all but isolated since he’d moved into the Avenger’s tower alongside his best friend Steve Rogers and you couldn’t imagine him being the source of an issue with how reserved this man was. You weren’t at all oblivious to his past- it had been global wide news after all, but in the months since his de-conditioning in Wakanda he had been making great strides towards recovery, working to make amends.

Though your interactions with the ex-assassin had been few, he’d always been polite and kind towards you. You’d felt so out of place among the Avengers, being Tony’s intern. You weren’t on the team, hell, a few of them didn’t even know your name despite you having been trailing behind Tony for the last year. Maybe it was your own fault, considering you hadn’t really made an effort to talk to any of them but aside from the fact that they were all extremely intimidating, you were naturally a shy and quiet person.

You quickly push the self deprecating thoughts from your head. You didn’t care about any of that. You shouldn’t. It wasn’t as if you wanted to be on the team, or were there to make friends, you were here as an engineer, to learn from who was arguably the most intelligent man on the planet. Perhaps that’s why Bucky had always been cordial to you more than some of the others living here. Maybe he gravitated towards you, as someone who constantly felt so out of place, because he felt that way here as well.

Or maybe he thought you were cute.

Oh fuck, if only.

You couldn’t deny your attraction to the man or that you’d been quietly crushing on him practically since you’d started your internship. Every small interaction with Bucky left a blush on your cheeks and a kaleidoscope of butterflies flitting about your belly.

The thought of someone as absurdly good looking as Bucky fucking Barnes finding you attractive was enough to spark a surge of heat straight to your abdomen.

No, get it together. Now’s not the time.

You mentally scold your vagina for having the nerve to throb at the mere mention of Bucky Barnes regardless of the context and turn your attention back to Pepper and Tony as they argued in hushed whispers.

“What’s happened with Bucky?” You repeat, knowing they likely won’t clue you in if it’s related to Avenger’s business.

Tony offers a nervous smile and exchanges a quick glance with his wife before he checks his watch. “Terminator? He’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably holed up with security for setting off the metal detector.” He pauses and then snaps his fingers. “Or maybe he walked past the junkyard on fifth and got snatched up by the hydraulic magnet.” He says, lifting a hand and miming a crane.

Pepper lets out a soft sigh and your gaze flicks to her. “Yeah, a big magnet or something.” She mumbles, turning her attention back to her tablet. “I don’t think that’s-“ Your cut off by Tony’s hand on the small of your back, urging you forward. “Enough about Robocop. We’re on, Rookie.” He says, his nervous expression falling away and quickly being replaced with a mask of professionalism. “Let’s go unveil our project to the press.” Pepper moves to open the door for you both and before you can open your mouth to tell Tony that if he calls you ‘rookie’ one more time you were going to strangle him with his overpriced tie, your senses are overwhelmed with an onslaught of overlapping voices and camera shutters.

You toss your blazer over the desk in your quaint office and slump over into the chair, trying not to let your mind run wild with anxious thoughts about the press conference. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but worry that you probably looked like a deer in headlights up at the podium alongside Tony.

You huff and rest your chin on the back of your hand, glancing over at the computer screens. Your attention is immediately drawn to security footage from one of the conference rooms when you see movement on the monitor. You lean in with your brows furrowed. It’s late and no one should be in the conference room. You expand the image and can clearly make out Tony and Steve moving about the room with tense body language.

You hover over the footage with your mouse and hesitate. You know that you absolutely should not eavesdrop on the two men but once Tony’s hands begin angrily gesturing around you give in to temptation and turn on the audio.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘back up?’” Tony shouts, beginning to pace the room.

Steve leans forward with his palms on the table and his head bowed slightly. “It’s exactly what I said, Tony.” He replies, his biceps flexing as he grips the table. “HYDRA had a fail safe. They’d planted a back up activation incase he would ever manage to be deprogrammed.” He looks up at Tony with a solemn expression. “They got to him. I should’ve been there, I should’ve-“

Tony holds out a hand, his other resting against his temple as he tries to comprehend what Steve is telling him. “Well you weren’t and they did so know we have to figure out how the fuck we navigate this.” He says firmly, shaking his head. “Do we have eyes on him? Is he in the building?”

Steve sighed and stood upright from the table. “No. He’s in the wind. We lost contact with him a few hours ago.” He admits, running a hand through his hair. “But there’s something you need to know.” He adds, looking at Tony with concern as he begins to pace again.

“Well spit it out, Rogers!” Tony yells, stopping and turning back to Steve.

“Nat received some intel. The hit HYDRA ordered is on you and your intern.” He says so quietly you can barely pick it up on the audio. Fear crawls up your spine and your hand trembles as you increase the volume on the security feed, while your heartbeat in your ears becomes near deafening.

Tony stiffens, slowly approaching Steve. “You wanna tell me why?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous. Steve nods. “The new tech you unveiled today.“ He explains.

Tony sighs, understanding why one of their enemies would be threatened by what the two of you had been working on and reaches to loosen his tie. “I’ll take Pepper and move her to the safe house before I meet you at a rendezvous point. Send someone to get my Rookie and get her off the grid. I don’t want her alone for a single second.” He says in an exasperated tone, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out his cell phone as he stalks towards the door.

“And Rogers?” He asks, turning around one last time, his hand curled tight around the doorknob. Steve’s head snaps up and he looks at Tony with guilt ridden eyes. “Yeah?”

“Find Barnes.”

Find Barnes.

The statement echoes in your ears, sending your thoughts spinning as if a category five hurricane were waging inside your head.

No. No, no, no.

There’s a hit out on you?

To be carried out by the fucking Winter Soldier.

Oh you were so fucked.

You scoot your chair back, bracing your hands on the desk to stand with wobbly knees.

Bile rises in your throat as you take a slow step backwards, bumping the chair in your state of panic and knocking your jacket off the workbench. You jump at the sound of it slipping to the floor and clutch your chest as a result of inducing your own jumpscare and take slow breaths to steel your nerves before you bend down to pick it up. As you rise back upright, your gaze connects with a pair of vacant, icy blue eyes in the shadows across the room and your entire body seizes in terror.

He’s not in the wind.

He’s been in here with you this entire goddamned time.

“B-Bucky?” You stutter, bringing your jacket to your chest and grasping it until your knuckles turn white. Maybe Steve and Tony were wrong. Maybe Nat’s intel was wrong. Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding and you weren’t about to die at the hands of the ex-assassin you’ve been pining over for nearly a year.

He takes a step forward from the shadows, his face expressionless and his eyes unblinking without a single trace of emotion behind them.

Okay, yeah. You’re fucked.

“Sergeant Barnes?” You whisper, almost a plea to the man you knew, locked away somewhere in the brain of the cold and calculated killer standing in front of you.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t register your words, as he crosses the lab in a few quick strides and catches your throat in his cybernetic hand.

Oh god.

The air leaves your lungs, his grip tightening around your windpipe as his face remains blank.

You’re going to die.

So why are you so fucking turned on?

Heat pools low in your abdomen, your core flooding with arousal, coupled with fear and unbridled lust.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as you gasp and thrash in his grip, your thick thighs rubbing together with every kick and flail, doing nothing to alleviate the throbbing ache in your cunt.

God this is so wrong.

His brows furrow, the first hint of emotion since he stepped out of the shadows. His head tilts inquisitively and his grip slackens around your throat as he leans in, tracing his nose across your jaw line and inhaling deeply. You still, your face contorting in confusion as you swallow hard against his palm, leaning your body into his hold.

His eyes narrow as he pulls away from you and you take the opportunity to suck in a breath, massaging your neck gently while your gaze drops to observe his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides.

“Bucky?” You ask, wondering what’s caused the sudden shift in his demeanor, wondering if maybe he’s somehow snapped out of the trance he’d been in. He’s still and silent for a long moment, his head bowed as his chest rises and falls heavily with every breath.

“Sergeant Barnes, are yo-“

His head snaps up, effectively silencing you.

Your mouth remains agape, stuck on your last word and as he watches you with predatory eyes, taking menacing steps toward you, you can’t seem to find your voice any longer. You stumble backwards, losing your balance and falling back against the desk, unable to regain your footing before his hands grip the flesh of your bare thighs.

He tilts you backwards, your back colliding hard with the surface of the desk, stealing the breath out of your chest. He drops to his knees, splaying his palms against your thighs, the hem of your dress rising up to expose your panties as he spreads your legs wide before him and drags his nose across the fabric.

He groans.

He fucking groans.

“You’re my mission.” He breathes out, eyes wild and fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as if he were fighting to physically restrain himself.

“I know.” You whimper, lifting your head to look down at him over the soft curve of your stomach.

“I’ve been ordered to kill you.” He chokes out, pressing his forehead against your inner thigh and drawing in a deep and shuddering breath.

“Then why haven’t you?” You ask in a broken whisper.

He turns his head and mumbles something incoherently, his breath ghosting against the damp fabric of your underwear and sending a wave of arousal crashing through your core. He stiffens, curling his flesh hand into a fist and bringing it to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he swallows back a moan.

He shakes his head, his teeth pressing into his skin hard enough to draw blood and you move to sit up, leaning on your palms as you look down at him where he’s slotted between your legs, visibly trembling.

He rises quickly to his feet, his left hand shooting out to curl around your neck again and he drops his bloodied flesh hand to his side.

“Because..” He says through clenched teeth, inhaling sharply as the cool metal of his thumb strokes the column of your throat.

“I can’t fucking focus when all I can smell-“

His free hand roughly cups your pussy over your panties, his voice trailing off as he kneads his palm against the thin, wet fabric.

He growls, tightening his grip around your throat and jerking you up to him, forcing you to meet his threatening gaze.

His expression grows pained and he whimpers, dipping his head to meet your forehead with his own, his breath fanning across your face with every heave of his chest.

“All I can smell is how wet you are.”

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@suz7days @blackbirdwitch22 @truthfulliarr @lilacka

Part two

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #winter soldier x plus size reader #avengers fanfiction

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astroboots · 11 months

Text

Every You Every Me Issue #3

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You are determined to meet your Spider-benefactor face to face and you go to ever increasing extreme lengths to do so. Problem is, Miguel O'hara is very uncooperative to your plans.

Word count: 5,500 words.

Content: Slowest of the burn, so slow you wonder if it's even burning. Near death experiences, the state of the economy and how expensive it is to live in a big city, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

[Previous issue] [Next Issue]

You saw them in the window display of a bakery in Greenwich Village. Round sugar cookies with red frosting and white eyes, decorated as a tribute to everyone's favorite neighborhood Spiderman.

Before you had time to properly think things over (would he even like the cookies? Is he on a strict superhero diet and workout plan? What if he's gluten intolerant?) you were already standing in front of the cash register having a dozen of them wrapped up in fancy crinkly paper and were $72 dollars poorer.

Charging six dollars per cookie is practically highway robbery, but that's par for the course with New York bakeries. You wouldn’t be surprised if every bakery in New York was already a part of Wilson Fisk’s criminal empire.

As you push open the door, box in hand, you wonder wryly to yourself why Spiderman’s ruder alter ego isn't there to save you from that.

You wonder, for Superheroes, what classifies as an event worth intervening in and what everyday citizens need to be saved from?

Financial ailment doesn't quite seem to qualify from what you've been able to glean so far.

Tony Stark, for all the wealth he’s amassed (a large enough treasure hoard that he would be capable of buying the whole planet of Mars according to Forbes) isn't massively involved with charities. He only donates to the one: his own. And the Stark Foundation is really just Tony Stark paying reparations for the damage he and his buddies caused in the first place.

Thor is an actual deity, and you still remember that write-up in Esquire magazine, where local waiters in New Mexico had called him a terrible tipper and a habitual smasher of glassware.

Assault and battery is up in the air. There are accounts of Superheroes intervening; that Tiktok videos of She-Hulk breaking up a bar fight that went viral a few weeks back. But then equally, there are memes of Doctor Strange peeking out the window of Sanctum Sanctorum watching a street fight unfold,, utterly uninterested in getting involved. The internet labeled it as "mood".

As for murder and mayhem, there's a longstanding public debate as to whether Superheroes cause more than they prevent. Case in point: that Moon Knight guy that paints the streets of London red.

There is no rule book written to explain how Superheroes decides who is worth saving and who is not.

Does one have to be important and have a material effect on the state of the world?

If so, you fall pitifully short. The most world-changing decision you made as of late was deciding to opt out of utensils on your last GrubHub order to help save the environment.

So it makes you wonder: Why on earth has this non-costume accurate Spiderman saved you, not once, not twice, but 13 times to date?

That’s just the first of many questions you’d like to ask him. What does he know that you don’t? Does he know why the universe seems to be out to get you lately? Or why death itself is following you everywhere you go, nipping at your heels?

You haven’t had the chance to ask him anything, because despite all of your encounters, you haven't met him face to face since that very first time.

Inconveniently, you don't exactly have a way of contacting him. Superheroes aren't listed in the phone book.

With no other way to reach out, you go at it the old fashioned way. You write him a note from a page you've ripped out of your notebook:

‘Thank you for saving me. Can we meet? I have questions.’

You place the note on the window sill. Setting the plate with $72 dollars worth of Spiderman cookies on top of the left corner of the paper to make sure it doesn't get blown away in the wind. Then you leave the window open for the first time since you've moved into this apartment before heading to bed.

There's nothing else to do but to wait.

You wake to the spit and splatter of rain against your window. It's gray outside, and the cookies you set out the night before remain untouched. You frown at the sight, but you can't say you're surprised.

There was never any real indication that he was lurking around you. Superheroes are bound to have more interesting things on their schedule than stalking a random insurance employee.

You don't know why you thought this would work in the first place.

Getting out of bed, you walk up to your window to inspect the scene. The note is where you have left it, ink a little smeared from the rain, where the plate has kept it in place on the right corner.

That seems odd, now that you think about it. You stare at the note, eye drawn to the watermarks. Why are there water stains bleeding into the paper if your window was closed? As crappy as your rundown apartment can be, water damage is the one thing you haven't had issues with.

You draw your eyes to the closed window being smattered with the rain outside. Didn't you leave the window open last night? You're pretty sure you did, hoping that the open window would be seen as a gesture of invitation. You had left it open… right?

You did.

You're sure you did.

He must’ve been here.

Rude, not-costume-accurate Spiderman was here.

Right?

Your eyes flicker back to the window.

Or maybe you did close the window?

You close your eyes trying to recall your evening, packing the length of your apartment as you replay the memory. Suddenly, you're not so sure anymore. You always close your window, and even though you had every intention of keeping it open last night, who is to say you didn't close it out of sheer habit?

It's strange. Because if he was here, he would've spotted the note. But it's in the same spot you left it yesterday right under the plate on the left side of it...

You eye the undisturbed note tucked under the right corner of the plate.

Wait, wait. Didn't you put the note under the left side of the plate?

You did.

Yes, you definitely did.

Which means, he was here... Right?

You feel like you are going insane.

Are you seeing things that are not there? Was he actually here and if so why did he go to such lengths to pretend otherwise. Why would he passive-aggressively gaslight you into thinking he was never here?

You decide on a redo.

Because if you can't trust yourself and your questionable memory, you can trust a recording.

A teddy bear nanny cam sets you back $50. Not cheap, but not as outrageous as your stale-cardboard-tasting Spiderman cookies.

You set it up on your dresser opposite your window and link it to your phone as per the instructions.

As for the bait. After having tasted those brick cookies for yourself, putting it out for a second night for a man who has saved your life repeatedly didn't seem right. You decide to bake them yourself this time.

The added bonus is that you get to mix blue food coloring into the frosting for the decoration that goes on top. In retrospect, the red Spiderman cookies from last time might’ve implied that you’re calling him a knock-off Spiderman.

Besides, even with the cost of living crisis: a bag of flour, baking powder, unsalted butter, sugar and eggs cost a lot less than $72 dollars.

This time, you don't write him a sloppily put together note. You decide to write him a proper letter.

If he did visit your apartment, (and you're not just going insane) the fact that he moved the note meant that he must've read it.

This note didn’t work.

It must not have been compelling enough, you were kind of in a hurry…

You’ll have to write something better this time. Longer. More emotionally compelling. Surely if you take the time to really explain your plight, you can make him understand why it’s so important he talks to you!

The problem is that it’s hard to sound serious when it’s written on lined paper from your ruled notebook.

That won’t do. You go to the nearest stationery store in your neighborhood, a chain outlet of Paper Source to get yourself some decent looking stationary paper with a matching colored envelope to boot.

You immediately regret this part of your plan, because it ends up setting you back another $26 dollars. Why is 6 pieces of paper so damn expensive anyhow? Surely there’s a few trees left in the world to chop down?!

$102 dollars down in your bank balance, you sit down at your dining table that night, pen in hand and begin writing. You pour your heart onto the pages, setting out in as precise words as you can manage the effect your near death incidents have had on you.

How scared you are, how confused you are, but also how grateful you are that he's saved you, again and again and again. That you believe if you and him can just meet in person and talk, if you could ask questions and figure out why this is happening, then maybe you can find a way to stop it from happening again.

Then you fold the letter and tuck it neatly into the matching envelope and slide it under the left side of the cookie plate and go to sleep.

When you wake the next morning, nothing seems out of the ordinary.

The cookies are still neatly arranged on your plate. The letter snugly tucked underneath it.

On the left side this time, you note.

It doesn’t look like he came.

The only thing is that you swear that the envelope is now several inches further to the left than where you left it last night.

Again, maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

You pull up your phone, opening the app linked to the nanny cam and press play.

There is nothing but the still frame of your studio apartment, your bed to the right and your window square in the camera-view. You speed up the video, but the only thing that takes you by surprise is that you apparently toss a lot more in your sleep than you thought.

The camera footage goes well into 3am, and you’re resigning yourself to the fact that this was all down to your imagination.

He didn't come last night. Probably didn't come the night before. Most likely you woke up from the rain, closed the window and were too sleepy to remember.

You sigh, setting down your phone on the table, prepared to let this whole endeavor go.

On your screen, a smudged shadow appears in the corner of the window. You jump to your feet from your seat, knocking your chair over in the process with a raucous thud. The dark figure grows larger on your screen, dark navy blue and lines of stark red that perches itself onto your window sill.

YES! yes-yes-yes! You knew it. You fucking goddamn knew it!

You were right.

Adrenaline buzzes victoriously in your veins, and you grip your phone harder. Your heart is pounding so fast and hard in your chest you can hear the drumming beat of it in your ears.

He was here!

(You're not cuckoo for cocoa puffs).

You watch as his large figure sits on your window sill. He's still wearing his mask, and while you can't make out the expressions underneath, the outline where his eyes would have been, painted in dark blue, now narrow into a slit on your screen.

There's a hostility emanating from that glare that you are able to sense all the way from the opposite side of the screen. He stares down at the plate of cookies suspiciously. Then he just stays there, unmoving, having a staring competition with the cookies you baked in his image.

In the privacy of your living room, you have the luxury of taking the time to get a proper look at him without interruption. It's hard to ignore the fact of just how tightly fitted to his skin that suit is. The dark blue fabric clings to every line of muscles on his body and it makes your cheek prickle with heat when you look. It feels voyeuristic somehow, but you can't help but think that the more modest alternative would be if he had worn nothing at all.

He's absurdly ripped. Muscular doesn't even begin to describe it. Broad shoulders and a narrow tapered waist segueing into obscenely thick and defined thighs that have your eyes linger for far too long. You shake your head to snap yourself out of it, Jesus you are acting like a creep. This isn’t OnlyFans, though lord knows you paid for this privilege! $102 for a cam video!

On the footage, there is finally movement. He reaches for a cookie, bringing it to his mouth. The blue fabric dematerializes on his lower face until it reveals his tanned skin and that ridiculously cut jaw of his.

His mouth parts. Fangs protrude where his canine teeth are supposed to be and the sight makes you nearly drop your phone in shock.

Is this Spiderman a vampire? Or is he like a tarantula Spiderman with fangs to match?

You watch in suspended horror as he bites into the cookie, those sharp fangs of his are in plain view as he chews.

He leans over to reach for a second cookie and all your trepidation is forgotten for a second, because if he’s reaching for a second one, it must mean he likes them. You grin at your screen, culinary pride beating out any caution or fear you may have had.

Then he lifts up the plate, picking up the letter. The anticipation is too much. You press your face closer to the screen to try to get closer, because your screen is too small to pick up any possible nuances in his expression.

He's carefully opening the envelope as he starts to read. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking. There's no visible change of facial expressions in the outline of his masked eyes. His mouth, which is bared to you, doesn't so much as twitch.

It doesn’t take long for him to read it. When he's done, he tucks the letter back under the plate. Then he bends down over the plate of cookies, and for a moment you think he’s going in for a third. Instead his hand lingers on the plate, before he starts to slide the remaining cookies around the plate to your confusion. You watch in confusion as he picks up the cookies one by one to space them out more evenly. You don't quite understand what he's trying to do, wait… is Vampire spider man re-arranging the cookies to make it less obvious he’s eaten them?!

The bastard really was trying to gaslight you into thinking he was never here.

Once he’s seemingly satisfied with his work, he straightens up, turning until his back is against the camera preparing to leave.

To your surprise his face turns around to take one last look inside. The direction of his gaze settles on your bed where you're sleeping. His eyes lingers there for a handful of moments, inscrutable over the mask.

Is he sad? Angry? You can't tell.

He finally looks away and then he leaps off the window.

Politely asking him in writing is clearly not working out for you.

You decide the only recourse you have left is to try and physically catch him.

Such a simple sentiment that had sounded so easy in your head, but you quickly run into logistical issues when you try to put it into practice.

The man is built like a tank. Can leap off of skyscrapers (and the window of your sixth floor) without breaking a sweat. Potentially also a vampire.

You're not exactly sure how you're supposed to catch someone like that.

Your google research is off to a shaky start. Somehow you end up down a rabbit hole of tutorials for non-lethal mouse traps. It's not very useful inspiration. Because you can't exactly build a 7 foot large cage trap to catch him the next time he comes around to help himself to cookies.

But the concept of having a lure trap set with bait seemed transferable and so you decide to go for a classic spring trap that you’ll modify. No cage, instead you set up a DIY contraption with a sturdy string attached to a bell meant to quickly alert you to his presence next time he comes around.

The game plan is to wake up and corner him before he has a chance to abscond.

As for bait, you google things that vampires might like in a half-thought of plan it might be applicable. Unfortunately, there are no young virgin maidens you know of as far as the eye can see in New York (yourself included) so that was a no go.

So you default back to cookies (because hey, at least it worked last time).

Amazon has your whole set up shipped and delivered by the next day and you implement phase 3 of your rapidly escalating attempts to reach out to him.

Unfortunately, it doesn't work. For one he doesn’t show up that night. Or the night after. It takes him four whole days to show up again and when he does, he spots your trap a mile away. When you review the footage on the cam the next day, he avoids the rope and the whole mechanism effortlessly.

There's no sound on the nanny cam so you can't be sure of it. But you think from the way the line of his shoulders shake as he steps over the rope that he might be laughing at you. He’s definitely seen through few supervillain traps in his days so in hindsight the probability of success here was low.

He does however eat three of your cookies this time.

You get a little bit more desperate after that.

You decide that if a trigger trap to wake you won't work, then obviously, the next best thing is for you to simply stay awake.

The problem is that he doesn't show up every night. His visits are entirely random without an obvious pattern. Sometimes he shows up two nights in a row, sometimes he goes several days without making a guest appearance on your nanny cam footage.

It means you end up downing a whole carafe of coffee, and several energy drinks, every night for a week straight. Entirely unable to predict what night he's going to appear, you keep dooming your already tiny bladder to a dozen visits to the bathroom before the clock has even struck nine.

The saddest part of it is that despite being wired on enough coffee to power a nuclear power station by yourself, you never end up staying awake the whole night through.

More often than not you end up falling asleep sitting upright by the dining table waiting up for him. Then the next morning you wake with a wry neck, a sore back and your face pressing up uncomfortably against the wooden surface.

But you're nothing if not tenacious. Tonight makes it the sixth night in a row that you’re doing this. You stare down the can of red bull on your dining table as you pick it up and lift it to your mouth. You’re going to keep going, hardness of the wooden table be damned.

You're surprised to find yourself waking up feeling well rested without any aches. Surrounded by the softness of your quilt and your even softer memory foam pillow.

The luxurious comfort of it all is such a relief that you don't even question it at first. Don't question why you're in bed when the last thing you remember was nodding off against the palm of your hand and the hard discomfort of your dining chair.

In the sanctuary of your bed, you just dig your face deeper into your pillow and snooze for as long as you can. Ignoring the bright sun pouring in from your windows until it sears unforgivingly against your skin and you decide that it’s finally time to start your day.

By habit, the first thing you do as you get up from bed is to pull up the nanny cam app on your phone and press play on last night's recording.

There's nothing of interest. Seeing yourself read a book by the dining table and chugging down a series of Red Bull is hardly riveting television.

Yesterday you barely even make it until midnight because you can see yourself nod off at the table, head sliding off your palm and plonking down on the dining table. You flinch at the impact, vaguely impressed that the collision didn't wake you.

Your (maybe vampire) Spiderman turns up at 3 am.

Much like the times before, he perches himself on your window sill, peering inside (presumably to check for any new traps you might have laid out for him).

His broad frame stiffens, and then, with a smooth leap, he's inside your apartment.

Excitement rushes to your head, because this is the furthest he’s gone and the first time he's come all the way inside instead of just lurking on the window sill.

He goes over to your bed, flinging the quilt to the side. He seems stressed, the dark shape of his eyes wide as he stands over the empty bed when it dawns on you what’s happening on screen right now.

Oh, he's worried.

He looks over at you, hunched over the dining table, sound asleep and oh god, is that drool on your cheek?

The line of his shoulder relaxes. The broadness of his chest rises then dips with a heavy exhale. Something warm trickles in your stomach at his obvious concern for you.

The mystery is confounding. You don't know him. You've never met him, but for some unfathomable reason he cares enough about you to genuinely care about your safety and you want to know why.

He makes his way over to the table where you are. The mask slowly ebbs away, uncovering his familiar chin, cheeks and then finally his eyes. An other-worldly shade of crimson that has you spellbound and transfixed on the screen.

You find yourself raising your phone closer to your face, trying to get a better look at him. Cursing the crappy quality of the video. You don't know what to make of the way he's looking at you. It's intensely focused, almost sad, and… and… And you don't know what, but it makes your heart leap up into your throat, chest clenching tight.

He bends over, wrapping his broad arms under your knees. He’s careful in his movements, cupping your head as it lolls to the side until you’re comfortably resting against his shoulders. It’s a practiced movement, as if he’s done this a hundred times before as he picks you up and carries you bridal style to your bed. Gingerly tucking you under the quilt with something that looks a lot like tenderness.

It leaves you with more questions than ever.

Ever since you started your caffeine chugging marathon, work has become a new kind of hell.

You're already half-asleep and nodding off at your desk by 10.30. Eyes sore and strained as you stare at the bright screen and try to make sense of the endless columns that are all different and also all the same until your brain refuses to try to make sense of any of it anymore.

You need to go for a walk. Clear your head.

Maybe pop out for a coffee... smoothie. Definitely smoothie.

Outside, the heat is oppressive, far too hot for only being May. Definitely too hot when there are this many tourists around. The street is so crowded you can barely make an inch of headway, trapped behind a family with a stroller in front, trapped in front of a pushy businessman who keeps stepping on your heels every two steps, and trapped next to a guy who is really into his airpods.

With the excess of caffeine still trying to make its way out of your system and the unforgiving heat of the sun beating against your back, it all has the effect of making you feel like you’re hung over. Your breakfast is roiling in your stomach. Sweat plastered against every inch of clothing. You don't know why you do this to yourself.

Every morning you tell yourself never again, and yet every night, there you were, spending half of your disposable income on energy drinks.

Starting from today, you're going cold turkey on the stuff. You've finally given up on trying to stay awake long enough to catch your super-stalker in his cookie burglar routine. Endlessly chugging down caffeine every night is not working out for you. Neither are the DIY mouse traps.

You're running low on ideas of how to trap him. You have nothing else to go on anymore. No idea on how to summon the man. The only time you know he'll be there is the moment before each near-death when he's there to save you.

What are you supposed to do with that? Purposely throw yourself off another building to lure him out?

That's crazy!

…Right?

But maybe... No! Definitely crazy.

Someone screams, and you snap out of your thoughts. There's yelling and terrified shrieks all around you. You're caught in the throng of people, panicked bodies pushing and pressing up against you, all of them trying to run the other way.

You dig in your heels, bracing yourself against the stampede of people. They’re pushing in from every direction until it’s impossible to move an inch. It’s hard to turn your body, when second after second, someone is pummeling into your side, knocking into your bruising shoulder. You barely manage to crane your neck back far enough when you finally spot it.

A red-green truck with a gigantic taco on its roof is careening towards you across the pavement, no driver behind the wheel. The sea of bodies parts around the out-of-control vehicle, people running left, right and forward to escape being crushed under the wheels.

There’s no time to react. It’s too close. Too fast.

A hand clutches at your wrist and pulls you backwards, your vision obscured as your face is pressed up against a familiar solid warmth.

"Hold onto me," he tells you, and you do.

You're held firm against him as the ground underneath your feet disappears, and everything feels weightless. Then all you hear is a loud thunderous crash.

Your feet touch back down on the ground, and the strong protective hold on you unravels.

When you open your eyes he's already gone. You're left on the corner of Lexington Avenue, still trying to catch your breath. The mob of people is still there all around you, but the panic has passed now, everyone is standing still. Everyone is observing the wreckage of the run amok truck that is now flipped onto its side, rendered harmless.

Miraculously, somehow, nobody around you seems visibly injured.

From a distance, you can hear sirens approaching with a deafening wail.

But your mind is elsewhere, on the shade of the familiar dark blue and red as you were being saved seconds ago. On his gentle voice in your ear that still thrums pleasantly in your chest.

You want to see him again.

It's Friday, and you break half an hour early for your designated 40 minutes of lunch, taking the elevator directly to the 72nd floor, which is under construction to renovate it into an open observation deck for the public next year.

The thing with commercial skyscrapers is that nowadays most of them have safety glass panels on all outside spaces of the upper floors to ensure that it is impossible to climb up the buildings and jump.

It's a safety feature that became standard after the financial crisis of 2008.

Turns out that imposing an 80 hour work week on your employees, where they don't get to see their family or friends or have a life outside of work, and then stripping them of their financial security makes a lot of people miserable and suicidal (who knew?)

The elevator pings open, and you exit into the construction zone, carefully avoiding the various tools scattered across the half-finished deck. On Fridays, the construction workers on the site leave by lunchtime, and the space is empty of people.

Step by step, you walk up towards the edge of the terrasse, until you stand before the temporary safety rail, looking out over the sprawling city below you. Cars look like tiny moving pebbles and the people, a hive of ants scurrying from street to street.

It’s a dizzying view. Both beautiful and grotesque in its grandeur. The 72nd floor will be 28 more floors to fall from than the 44th was.

The air around you seems to thin, and your stomach wants to crawl down to your feet and hold on to steady ground.

Taking a deep breath, you lift the hem of your shirt, running your hand over the safety harness strapped around your waist, reassuring yourself it's still there. Then you feel along the attached cord, using the carabiner at the end to clip it around the rod of the safety rail.

Being impulsive and daring in your quest is one thing. Reckless and stupid is another.

It’s not a real climbing rope and harness. Turns out professional safety gear is shockingly expensive, but you found a knock-off resistance training set, complete with harness and stretchy bungee cord rope, on Amazon for a very reasonable $15. You’ve already spent $72 on cookies, $50 dollars for a nanny cam set, and an extortionate $26 for stationary paper in your never-ending quest to lure out Fake Spiderman. You figure a rope is a rope, and you're not paying $100 more to get ripped off by the big climbing corporations. But you’re also not willing to go without.

After all, you've already fallen from the Chrysler building once, and you're not angling for a repeat.

As intent as you are on seeing your Spider-benefactor eye to eye, you're not quite prepared to die for the privilege. Your plan is just to make it look like you are going to jump.

Any superhero worth his dime wouldn't actually let you fall before they would be willing to save you.

That would be a real dick move.

You give your impromptu safety rig one last tug to make sure it's secure, then straighten your posture. Grabbing a hold of the metal rail, you hoist yourself up. You clamber onto it, gripping tight with shaking hands as you swing a leg over, straddling the bar.

Left leg then the right, until all of you are on the other side of the railing.

Then you stay there.

One second. Then two. You close your eyes and try not to look down at the many, many floors below, and how one gust of strong wind could probably knock you over and have you falling down the building again. You count the seconds that pass you by.

Five. Six. Seven.

A strong gust of wind blows through your side, and your legs buckle at the strong resistance, hand gripping down on the metal railing to hold yourself steady so you don't fall off.

Eightnineten! Ok. Fuck. No. You're good. Fuck this! He's not going to come.

If he didn’t come when you climbed over, he's not going to turn up now.

You briefly let go of the railing with one hand, adjusting your grip so you can climb back to safety. The sun beating down on your back disappears and is eaten up by a large and looming shadow. Every hair on the back of your neck prickles in warning.

Your reaction is too slow, you don't even have time to turn around to see what caused it. Then all you hear is an angry booming voice right next to your ear.

"Have you lost your goddamned mind?!"

You panic, flinging out your hand to catch the bar, but the hard metal of the railings isn't there anymore.

There is a sharp metallic snap. The safety rope around your waist splits from the hasp.

He’s calling your name.

The world tilts and everything goes upside down along with it. Your stomach sinks with a sickening plummet, legs dropping through into zero gravity as you find yourself staring up at the blue and endless New York sky.

Then you're falling from the Chrysler building.

Again.

Fuck!

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: To my dearest @thirstworldproblemss who has to constantly listen to me jabber on about this day and night endlessly and forever. She is in every sense of the word a collaborator on this project. She brainstorms, she pitches in, she edits and she beta-reads. This and so many of my works would not exist without her, please send her all the love if you enjoyed this story.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

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cherienymphe · 11 months

Text

Basic Training IX (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

You stood by the window, watching Peter in the yard as he talked to Clint and Tony. Of all the husbands here, you interacted with Clint the least. He didn’t strike you as mean or strict as Steve but then again, how were you to know? It didn’t matter how nice any of these men seemed, none of them were right in the head to be doing any of this. Laura seemed happy enough, but again… So did Margaret, and you knew firsthand how cruel Steve could be.

…and Tony was a whole other misogynistic can of worms. You thought Steve was bad, and still did, but somehow you hadn’t thought that any other husband could be almost as bad as him. It only served to remind you that not only did you know nothing about these men, but no matter how much better you might’ve thought any of them were than Steve, at the end of the day, they were right here with him doing the same things he was.

Peter seemed to get along well with all of the husbands here, and you found yourself briefly wondering how they all even knew each other. You’d had the passing wonder before, but never long enough to really consider the answer. He was so at ease with every single one, including Steve, and it once again forced you to consider the kind of man he was to do so.

After your unexpected blowup—or tantrum—Peter didn’t leave your side much these days, and you hated how much you didn’t want him to. You were self-aware enough to realize just how much you were starting to need Peter, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop needing him. You needed him to keep the nightmares at bay, to reassure you that you wouldn’t screw anything up in the kitchen, to give you the courage to answer any question Steve wanted to throw your way at dinner.

You realized what was happening, but you couldn’t stop it.

You were starting to feel helpless without him around, feeling lost and lonely. You couldn’t go outside, not yet anyway, and anytime Peter did, you’d forlornly stare after him, wondering when you’d be able to.

“When Steve feels you’re ready,” the brunette told you hours later.

Your feelings about that must’ve been displayed on your face because Peter neared you just as you started to turn away.

“He just wants to be sure that you won’t…”

He trailed off as he took your face into his hands, but the unspoken words were as clear as day. Why did it even matter if you’d try and run or not? One of them would catch you, anyway, and besides. The thought of getting caught and getting thrown back into the basement was enough to make you shudder.

“It’s not like I’d actually get away,” you mumbled, hating the truth in that statement.

Peter’s thumbs brushed over your skin as he drank you in, a slight frown between his brows.

“You might,” he murmured. “…and I’d hate that.”

You studied him with a frown of your own.

“You don’t understand how much I’ve grown to care about you,” he said. “If I lost you, I’d be devastated.”

You didn’t know how to feel about that statement, wanting to argue that you weren’t even his to care about. Peter would never have come to care about you in any form if he hadn’t kidnapped you. It was sick, really, but as he looked at you, you could only feel confusion filling you at his declaration. You couldn’t find the logic in that. All you did was scream and cry and walk around thus place like a frazzled chicken with her head cut off.

Why would Peter miss you?

“You would…?”

Peter blinked at you like you’d just said something crazy, tilting his head ever so slightly.

“Of course, I would,” he breathed. “I don’t think I could even try to find someone else. I chose you, and I chose right.”

You looked down, gaze finding the floor as he sighed.

“You know what all the other women are expected to do. You’ve met Margaret’s daughter and Laura’s son,” he continued. “That’s important, not something to be taken lightly, and you’re who I chose. You’re who I want to have a family with. I would lose it if I lost you.”

Peter’s words were overwhelming you in more ways than one, and you took a step back from him, walking around him and sitting on the bed. The thought of what your future entailed made your breathing short, but was it insane to say that talking about this with just you and Peter made it…easier? You could feel him near you, and you swallowed when his hand met your shoulder.

“Don’t think of it so badly,” he softly told you. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

His other hand touched your chin, fingers gently pressing into your skin as he turned and tilted your head up, forcing you to look at him. His brown eyes were warm, almost pleading as he gave you a soft smile.

“I will make you so happy. You’ll be so happy with me.”

You turned your head away at that, blinking back tears as you thought of your friends. Your chest still ached painfully when you thought of them and everything surrounding their deaths. Never mind how disrespectful it felt to their memories to find some contentment in your situation, but you couldn’t stomach the thought of living in harmony with the same people who’d put them in their graves.

It was horrifying.

As if he’d read your mind, Peter spoke.

“Your friends didn’t hesitate to try and protect you,” he slowly said. “They died for you…so, don’t you think they’d hate to see you suffering…?”

Your stomach twisted at that, and you hurriedly stood. You walked away from Peter, but despite his lack of movement, his voice still followed you.

“They would want you to be happy…some kind of way.”

Peter didn’t know your friends, so it wasn’t his place to even say that. Even still, while he wasn’t wrong, they’d be horrified to see you succumb to this. It would break MJ’s heart to see you so beaten down that you’d take the same hand that might as well had put them in the ground. They wouldn’t want this for you, and yet, it seemed inevitable.

You heard Peter move closer, and you tensed when his hand met your arm. You wouldn’t look at him, but you could feel him leaning in, deeply inhaling the scent of you. His chest grazed your back, and when he leaned around to brush his lips over your cheek, you didn’t protest.

“I won’t rush you,” he quietly said. “It’s just something to think about.”

His nose grazed your neck, and he gently sighed.

“I want you to be happy here. That’s all I want…”

When Peter stepped away, you still kept your gaze on the floor, only blinking when he shut the door behind him on his way out.

It was days later when you were eating dinner with everyone else and couldn’t help but feel like something was…off. You weren’t one of the ones to help with dinner that night, and so from the moment you sat down, something just didn’t feel quite right. The atmosphere felt tense in a way you hadn’t felt before, and for once, Steve wasn’t the source.

In fact, the blond man seemed to be in a good mood. It wasn’t up to you to say if that was rare or not, but at least in your presence it seemed to be. Truthfully, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint why dinner felt weird. As far as you could tell, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Steve had complimented Pepper and Jane on the food, they’d thanked him in unison, and everyone had drifted into hushed conversation as they always did. Peter kept touching your arm here and there, something Steve certainly noticed if the way you’d accidentally catch his eye was anything to go by. It was only when you looked over, catching Natasha’s gaze, did you pause.

It was hard to pinpoint the look in her eyes to be honest. Her entire visage was unreadable, and the longer she held your gaze, the more you frowned. You had started to wonder if you’d done something to offend the redhead when her façade cracked…ever so slightly. If you hadn’t been studying her so hard, you would’ve missed it, but for half a second, no more than a moment, her entire face had crumbled.

If you’d blinked, you would’ve missed it, that’s how fast it had happened.

In a split second, her entire face had smoothed out to the unreadable perfection it had been before. You watched as she continued eating, finally breaking her stare, and you frowned. You glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed, namely Steve, but you seemed to be the only one who had. It had confused you, something that lasted for days until Jane had been the one to finally tell you.

The pretty brunette looked unsure at first, deeply staring into the potted plant she was tending to. She’d stopped what she was doing, and you didn’t miss the way her hands trembled a little. She glanced over her shoulder, and you knew why, following her lead. Peter had taken it upon himself to be near you, knowing how much better it made you feel, and while he wasn’t just outside the door to the greenhouse, his close proximity made her nervous.

“If Peter hears…he won’t say anything…”

You didn’t know why you were taking up for him, but it was the truth. There were a million things you’d done and said that he could’ve—should have—told Steve and didn’t. Peter protected you from Steve’s ire more times than you could count. You trusted him, and you wanted Jane to know that she could too.

She softly sighed, struggling to meet your eye.

“Nat… You said something the other week that worried her. It…it made her a little concerned…”

You frowned, unable to follow as you wracked your brain.

“She asked Bucky about how you got here…and why we needed to be so understanding with you…?”

You blinked in realization, shoulders drooping as you felt your face fall. Oh. You didn’t know how to feel that you were right in your assumptions that Natasha hadn’t known. None of them did, it seemed, and when your eyes met Jane’s again, her own glistened with tears.

“You weren’t alone when they took you,” she slowly said, voice strained.

It came out more like a question, almost like she didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t move for a moment, pulling your lip between your teeth before finally shaking your head. Jane sharply inhaled at your confirmation, and she looked away. Your own gaze landed on the floor, and you hated how much your skin grew cold at the mention of your friends.

“We didn’t know,” she breathed. “…and you were there when they…?”

She trailed off, unable to say it, and you felt your own eyes burn.

You could feel her gaze on you, wanting confirmation for what she already knew. Only, you couldn’t give it to her, staring at the floor as your vision grew blurry. The plants and walls around you grew fainter and fainter, and slowly but surely, you weren’t in the greenhouse anymore. You felt your lips tremble, and you faintly heard Jane calling your name.

Your hands were no longer dirty with soil and grime but instead blood. All you could see was Wanda being shot with a swiftness and efficiency that shocked you. You could hear MJ screaming at you to run, her hand tight on yours, and you hadn’t realized that you’d started crying until you felt familiar hands on your arms.

“I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have said anything…”

You thought she was talking to you, but Peter’s soft voice in your ear told you otherwise. He was rubbing his hands up and down your arms, soothing words leaving him as he tried to calm you down.

“You’re okay,” he cooed, helping you stand to your feet.

The plant in your hand had long fell, the plot cracking slightly as the sound of it meeting the ground reached your ears. Peter pulled you into him, arms tight around you as you pressed your face into his shoulder. Through the haze and overwhelming emotions that threatened to drown you at the memory of your friends’ murders, you could hear Peter’s voice.

Only, unlike with you, it was hard, tone cold and almost venomous in nature.

“You know better, Jane.”

Peter tightly held you as he guided upstairs, and you hated the thought of him talking to Jane like that just because you were a broken mess. The mere mention of your friends or the mere sight of blood shouldn’t send you spiraling. Deep in the back of your mind, you knew that your reaction was reasonable, understandable, but you couldn’t help but feel like a burden and inconvenience to everyone.

“You shouldn’t…you shouldn’t talk to Jane like that,” you sobbed once you were in your room.

You hated the thought of her getting trouble.

“She knows better,” Peter told you, kneeling in front of you as he sat you down on the bed. “They all know to be careful with what they say around you.”

You shook your head, pressing your hands to your face.

“…but none of them knew why! You didn’t tell them? You didn’t tell them what they did to my friends?”

You felt hysterical, and truthfully, you didn’t know what triggered it. Maybe it was the fact that now that everyone knew the full circumstances of how you’d been taken you now felt more comfortable to openly grieve? Maybe it was the way Jane had looked at you? The horror and concern on her face had never been on Peter’s or any of the others. Maybe it had something to do with someone other than you finally having an appropriate reaction to what had happened to your friends.

Or maybe it was just as simple as you were a nutcase.

“It wasn’t any of their business,” Peter told you, pushing your hands away and taking your face into his own. “…and this is exactly why because they shouldn’t be bringing this up with you.”

Peter almost sounded angry—almost looked angry—and you shook your head.

“It’s my fault,” you tearfully pleaded with him. “Jane didn’t do anything wrong.”

You had forgotten all about your almost slip up in the kitchen with Natasha that day. It was you who had wrongfully assumed that she knew, and it was only natural of her to be curious and concerned. After all, just because you felt distanced from the other wives, it didn’t mean they felt that way. They’d all built such close relationships with one another, and how could they not in this environment? They were all victims of their circumstances, and you were no different.

Of course, they would care about you just as much.

Peter stood with a sigh, hands on the back of your head as you cried into his stomach. He played with your hair, stroking you and speaking.

“My pretty girl…always worried about someone else,” he murmured.

You reached up, wrapping your arms around his waist. The feel of his hands soothed you, and you held him tighter, wishing that he could be your friends somehow, holding them and saving them from the horror that met them.

You sat on the stairs with your hands in your lap. A few times a week, Peter and the others would meet in the den and go over work-related things. Sometimes household stuff would come up in conversation too. At least, that was what Jane had relayed to you. It was usually during that weird period in the evening after supper and when the wives were looking after the children.

You’d been deemed too unstable to be around the children for prolonged periods of time. You supposed you didn’t fully disagree with that assessment, but you didn’t think you’d ever hurt a child. You couldn’t even bring yourself to hurt yourself no matter how much peace the decision would probably bring you in the long run.

This was a time where you’d find yourself in your room, skin damp and fresh after a bath. You’d already be in bed by the time Peter returned, but tonight seemed to be a night in which everything was taking longer than usual. You didn’t know if it was about work or something to do with the household, but you’d gotten tired of waiting for Peter. You were growing tired, and it was hard to sleep without him.

That’s how you found yourself sitting halfway down the stairs, head drooping and leaning against the wall. Their low voices carried from the den, but only faintly. It wasn’t like you could make anything out, and even if you could, it wouldn’t make any difference to you. It was becoming difficult to stay awake, head falling every now and then. Your body was protesting, telling you that you needed to go to sleep, but you knew that without Peter, you’d be restless and awake within ten minutes.

Somewhere along the way, you must’ve lost the fight because the sound of a light chuckle reached your ears. The voice was somewhat familiar, and you’d started peeling your eyes open just as they spoke.

“Peter, I think you’ve lost something…”

Thor’s voice was light and teasing, and you were relieved that he didn’t seem upset to find you nodding off here. You were blinking sleep away when Peter responded, something unintelligible, and Thor lightly laughed again, arms folded over his chest.

“No, I’m positive she belongs to you,” the blond told him.

You were straightening up just as Peter rounded the corner, and he blinked as his gaze met your tired one. The confusion disappeared from his eyes as he approached you, gaze softening.

“What are you still doing up?” he wondered, touching your face.

“I was waiting for you,” you told him. “You’re normally back by now.”

The brunette didn’t respond right away, tilting his head to the side with a small smile.

“Yeah, I know,” he told you. “Bucky’s being a pain in the ass, but I’ll be up in a little bit.”

You were about to protest when a familiar blond appeared behind Peter, and you felt yourself shrinking in on yourself. Unlike Thor, this blond didn’t look the happiest at the sight of you, and you swallowed.

“She’s not supposed to be here,” Steve said. “What if she overhears something she shouldn’t?”

Peter defended you before you could defend yourself.

“I doubt she heard anything, Steve,” Peter threw over his shoulder. “…and even if she did, what would she do?”

“Even still, she doesn’t have the same privileges the others do. She should be in bed.”

He was talking to Peter, but the blond was looking at you as he said this, blue eyes cold. Your heart sank at the reminder of the lack of faith he had in you, but despite the finality in his tone, you didn’t move. Instead, you looked at Peter, wondering what he wanted you to do, and the brunette took your hand, helping you stand. There was a gleam in his eye that you couldn’t place, and the corner of his mouth quirked up just a tad.

“Go on up,” he gently told you. “I’ll be there in just a little bit.”

You hesitated, gaze lingering on him as you were half turned. Peter smiled at you, the expression reassuring.

“I promise.”

With a small sigh, you did as he said, fighting to hold in a yawn. You could feel his gaze on you, and you glanced at him one more time, your gaze passing over Steve and Thor, before finally turning the corner. You were grateful that Peter was being truthful, the bedroom door opening not even seven minutes later.

You were on the verge of sleep when he joined you, taking your hand and kissing it as he slid into bed beside you. You drowsily blinked as he whispered something that sounded a lot like an apology. You didn’t really care though, finally relaxing, all of the tension leaving you. You were so weighed down with fatigue that you didn’t even care when Peter threaded his fingers through yours.

They were still like that in the morning, and you’d forgotten whatever you were going to say when Peter told you that he had a surprise for you. It was quite early, too early for any of the others to be up and started on breakfast. The excited gleam in his eye had you faltering, nervousness flowing through you before allowing Peter to coax you out of bed.

“Come on,” he urged, pulling you along down the stairs.

Your heart was in your stomach, unable to come up with what was in store for you. Peter’s hand was tight on yours when he made it to the backdoor, turning the knob and letting the nice fresh air in. You didn’t need a mirror to know that there was evident longing in your gaze. Aside from the greenhouse, you hadn’t felt true fresh air in months, and you didn’t really understand what was happening until Peter tugged on your hand.

“What…?” you quietly murmured, eyes wide and unsure as you looked at him.

Peter ran his eyes over you, a small unreadable smile on his lips as he lightly pulled on your arm.

“Come on…”

You looked between his eyes, lips parting before your gaze rested on the outside behind him.

“I…can…?”

You trailed off, and Peter nodded, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you took a step towards him. Slowly, but surely, Peter led you outside, and you almost cried when your bare feet touched the grass. Your eyes burned, and you blinked back tears as you looked around. Peter’s hand was still on yours as you took it all in, and your first thought was that the window didn’t do it justice.

The land that the house sat on was so much bigger than you had ever thought. Under different circumstances, you would’ve been able to admire it wholeheartedly. However, as it were, all you could think about was how the land just seemed to go on and on forever. Peter pulled you through the yard, and you looked around in awe.

You had never noticed that the house wasn’t far from an incline, and down at the bottom of it was a decent sized pond, and beyond it…nothing but trees. It had rained the night before, and your eyes took in the dew on the grass and the light fog that seemed to descend just at your ankles. The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon, and you felt distracted by it.

You hadn’t realized just how much you’d missed fresh air and the grass and just being outside until you’d gone months without it. You kept walking and drinking it all in. You almost hated how beautiful everything was, and you glanced over to your right at a clothesline near the house. Just on the other side of it, you could see the garden you were always hearing about. You noticed a toy or two in the yard, and you hated to think that if you stumbled upon this property randomly one day, you’d think it was a normal home just like any other.

“Can I come outside later too?”

Peter didn’t respond right away, but when he did, you were shocked at how far away he sounded.

“Of course.”

You looked over your shoulder, and you realized with a start that he was pretty far away. At least, further than you’d thought he was. So distracted by it all, you hadn’t even noticed him letting go of your hand. Or had you let go of his? Either way, he was much closer to the house than you were, and you blinked at him.

“After breakfast, we can come back out here. Maybe you can help out in the garden too…”

He lifted his hand towards you with a smile.

“Come on,” he softly urged you.

You looked at his outstretched hand, brows drawing together just a tad. You looked back towards the pond and the trees…you looked back towards freedom, and you felt your stomach twist. Peter was so far away…but you didn’t doubt that he’d catch you in no time. The thought of reverting back to square one was enough to make you shudder in fear, recalling that day you’d seen Steve punishing Margaret by that very tree just over there.

The next time Peter called after you, he said your name, and his tone had lost some of it’s gentleness. It was sterner now, voice dropping some, and when you looked at him, his smile had fallen just a tad. His brown eyes still held some of their warmth, but there was something in them, a warning that had you tensing.

“Come on, pretty girl…”

Your shoulders drooped, and with one last glance at the trees, you slowly returned to him. Peter’s hand grasped yours, and his smile returned to it’s full luster. Peter pulled you into his side before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your temple. You got the feeling that you’d just passed some kind of test, and you couldn’t tell if that was good or bad. There was a pep in his step unlike before, and despite the fact that you’d clearly done something very right…

…you couldn’t help but feel very wrong.

#peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #dark peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction

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fandomnerd9602 · 5 months

Text

Thor: friends, what is the key to a healthy marriage?

Tony: happy wife, happy life. Also what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Clint: be attentive to each others needs

Wanda: murder. lots of murder

Y/N: Wanda! Stop saying that! They might actually believe you.

Wanda: Y/N disposes of the bodies for me. I knew I chose right when I picked them

Y/N face palms as Wanda smiles deviously…

Y/N: I give up

Tony: what?!

Clint: you’re kidding. Please tell me you’re kidding!

Thor: so does the murder have to be a person or will a bilgesnipe suffice?

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff incorrect quotes #the scarlet witch #scarlet witch

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buckrecs · 1 year

Note

Hiii! I love ur page and I was wondering if u could rec some fics with a pregnant reader? Thank you sm hon 🫶

Pregnant Reader

masterlist | req masterlist

These Hands Are For You by @majestyeverlasting

The raking of leaves, muffins, and baby kicks on a fall afternoon. A very warm and fuzzy domestic piece filled with lots of love.

Always Back to You by @majestyeverlasting

After coming home a little roughed up, Bucky seeks forgiveness for not being candid about a mission in D.C. But all you truly care about is the fact that he's okay and made his way back to you.

Two Becomes Three by @sleepypanda27

“I’m pregnant”

Chocolate Chip Cookies by @sleepypanda27

Bucky wakes up in the middle of the night only to find that you’re not in the bed, because you're craving chocolate chip cookies.

Scent of Home by @pherelesytsia

Bucky attended one of Tony parties and returns to his small family.

small bump by @bucky-bucket-barnes

Bucky has fought literal armies, survived multiple murder attempts, and still nothing worries him like his pregnant wife.

Paint + Ladders by @mvtthewmurdvck

Bucky comes home to find you not where you're supposed to be, and instead in the nursery, doing exactly what you shouldn't be.

two little lines by @duuhrayliegh

the reader is pregnant, this is how she tells bucky and the rest of the avengers.

Here To Help by @itsjustmelainey

Your super baby is so heavy that you’re uncomfortable, fortunately Bucky might have found the solution to help you.

Any day now by @randomperson351

Bucky didn't think he could have the life he does, and he's grateful each and every day.

happy secret by @bentobarnes

bucky is having lunch with Nakajima after 2 years of not talking with him. Yori wants him to go on a date with Leah (the bartender) but encounters a pleasant surprise.

Breath With Me by @planetofawe

You and Bucky decide on a home birth however you’ve got to do it all alone as your midwife is stuck in some traffic!

Oh Baby! by @fairydxll

You tell Bucky the big news.

Support You by @marvelmushroom

Bucky finds a way to take some of the weight off of you during pregnancy. Literally.

Daisy by @chrisevansredbelt

bucky gets you pregnant. complications ensue?

Names by @softlyspector

Bucky and Y/N are expecting a baby, and soon, but they still haven’t decided on a name.

One In A Trillion by @softlyspector

Bucky is sterile. Or, so they had been told, that was basically what he was. There was a one in a trillion chance of them ever conceiving, completely impossible.

Expectations by @softlyspector

Bucky is overprotective of the reader, who is pregnant with his baby.

one plus one equals… by @lokiskitten

after waking up from a nap, Bucky requires a hug. He then gets the chance to learn that you are pregnant.

actually… you can help by @classylo

you were miserably pregnant and knew of only one way to get the baby out of you.

“Alexa, Play Go There With You” by @touchstarvedirl

Bucky’s been having a hard time being okay with your work schedule now that you’re pregnant. An arguments ensues and after you only have one thing on your mind, so Alexa helps you set the mood.

Daddy’s Home by @starshipsofstarlord

whilst with Wanda, you go into labour. Bucky is on his way home from a mission with Steve and Vision, you’re just worried that he won’t make it on time.

we’re gonna need a bigger house by @sunmoonandeddie

You find the courage to tell Bucky about your latest ultrasound.

Come Back to You by @buckyalpine

What happens when a time travel mission ends up with a version of Bucky from the 40′s standing on the time travel platform.

Imagine by @buckyalpine

Imagine Bucky finding his adorably, heavily pregnant girl perched onto kitchen counter rummaging for snacks like a little gremlin in the middle of the night.

Be(tter) in Reality With Me by @t-lostinworlds

Bucky needed to remind you how he would never ever betray you, especially when the him in your dreams was showing you otherwise.

All I Ever Wanted by @majestyeverlasting

You and Bucky visit a park in Brooklyn that stirs up some nostalgic memories. But what he doesn’t know is that, later that night, he’ll learn that he’s going to be a father.

Relax by @itsapeterthing

while the avengers help you and bucky move, you attempt to help carry something only to have your overprotective husband get in the way

The Three Times They Think She’s Pregnant by @skyeisawitch

Hopelessly Pregnant by @kiritella

Light Carries On Endlessly by @marvelingatthewonder

Bucky goes back under after cacw and you’re pregnant. 8-ish months later you give birth to a beautiful baby girl.

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x pregnant reader #bucky barnes x wife!reader #husband!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes oneshot

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lu-vin-it · 1 year

Text

Baby Momma | 2

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

PART 1 | Rest of series here

Summary: You and Ellie introduce baby Sarah to Joel, Tommy, Maria, Dina, and Jesse.

Pairing: Ellie Williams X Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 778

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks to @stqrfishluvr for proofreading ily bff. Also!! I kinda wanna make this into a little series so.. send in some requests for this universe for like little moments throughout Sarah’s life and mayyyybe I’ll write them 👀

This time, you drove to Jackson. Ellie held baby Sarah in her arms and pointed out things in the window as you passed them. It was honestly the cutest thing ever. When you arrive at Jackson, at around lunch time, you go straight to Joel’s house.

“I thought y’all left yesterd— is that a baby?” You laughed a bit at his puzzled expression.

“Can we come in please?” Ellie asks. Joel nods, still not tearing his eyes away from the baby, he moves to let you in. You walk over to the couch and sit down.

“Where’d you find a baby?”

“On our way back home yesterday the car ran out of coolant and when we got to that gas station down the road there was a woman—“

“Alice. She had been bitten and she asked me to take care of the baby.” You cut in. Ellie walks over to you and hands you Sarah.

“Um— okay.. are.. uh..you keeping it?” You grin and nod.

“Guess you really are a grandpa, huh?” Your girlfriend says patting Joel’s shoulder with a chuckle at her own joke. Joel glares at her.

“Careful there, you’re getting old too.” Ellie’s jaw drops.

“Fuck you!”

“Ellie! There’s a baby present!” You chastise.

“She can’t speak yet!” You glare at her and she raises her hands in defeat.

“So what’s her name?” Joel sits down next to you slowly. You hand him the baby and glance up at Ellie. Joel coos at the baby in his arms.

“Her name is Sarah.” Ellie says, the graying man looked up at Ellie and you could see tears forming in his eyes.

“That’s.. that’s nice.” You smile at him. He looks back down at Sarah and softly smiles at her.

“We didn’t name her that, it was—“ Ellie starts, her nervousness showing through her voice.

“I said it’s nice. Suits her.” Ellie walks over to you and puts a hand on your shoulder. You grab onto it. “She’s beautiful, you two.”

“I know right? She’s the cutest baby I’ve ever seen. Sorry JJ.” You say with a chuckle. A knock at the door tears you away from the moment. Ellie walks over to answer, before she can say a word, Tommy barges in and rushes to where you are.

“Oh my god!” He says. “A baby!” He sits on the other side of Joel and takes Sarah from him. Maria, Dina, and Jesse walk in, all of their jaws dropped.

“Tony said that y’all weren’t alone when you came in— but—“ Maria starts, skeptically.

“Who’s baby is that?” Dina cuts in.

“Ours.” You say with a grin.

“We found her yesterday on our way back home.” Ellie walks over to you and sits on the arm of the couch. You intertwine your hands. Dina hands JJ to Jesse and walks over to Sarah.

“What’s her name, oh my god she’s fucking adorable.” She gushes.

“Her name is Sarah. Uhm— her Mom was still breathing when we found her.. she was bitten though.” Ellie scratches the back of her neck. You rub circles into the back of her hand with your thumb.

“Hey, little Sarah!” Tommy exclaims, bouncing Sarah on his knee. You thought his face was going to rip when he smiled wider due to Sarah giggling. “Oh aren’t you just the cutest thing? You love your Uncle Tommy, don’t you?”

“Tommy, don't be a baby hog.” Dina growls, making grabby hands at Sarah. Tommy glares at her and dodges her advances.

“You have your own!” You stifle a laugh. “Back off.”

“You can have him whenever you want, let me see Sarah!”

“Bite me!” Dina grabs Tommy’s arm and goes to actually bite his shoulder.

“Woah okay! Chill out!” You say, taking Sarah out of Tommy’s arms. “Take turns, she’ll be here all day.” They both turn to you and look at you as if you’ve just murdered their families.

“Take turns?” They both spit.

“What are we? Six years old?” Tommy sputters out, throwing his hands in the air.

“Well.. you’re sorta actin’ like it right now..” Joel says.

“You keep actin’ like this and you won’t get any turns.” You say, glaring at Tommy and Dina. They both shrink in their chairs. “Are you gonna act like adults?” They nod. “Okay then, Dina, you get ten minutes.” Dina grins as you hand her Sarah.

“What? I didn’t get ten minutes!” Tommy crosses his arms.

“Tommy you’re actin’ like a child.” Maria chastises. He huffs.

“Wanna hold JJ?” Jesse asks, the younger Miller brother sits up straight and nods.

“I get to hold Sarah next!” Jesse yells. Tommy gapes at him.

“You tricked me!”

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

#the last of us fanfiction #the last of us x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #joel miller x child!reader #joel miller x reader

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scoonsalicious · 3 months

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 1, Unarmed - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Mild language, Bucky and Reader being Tolkien nerds, light fluff, mention of rabies (it's a super scary disease and we should all be vigilant, okay?!)

Word Count: 1.6k

Previously On...: You just had the pleasure of meeting the very handsome Bucky Barnes. Despite a little bit of awkwardness during your first encounter, you have a feeling your life is about to get a lot more interesting now that he's been introduced into it.

A/N: You know what? I said I wasn't going to do this, but I thought "fuck it!" and decided to post all of Chapter 1: Unarmed. My anxiety is too high to just sit on it. So, please enjoy Ch1. Pt2! Pts 3 & 4 to follow!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic

The next evening, you were making your way back to your suite after a productive, albeit exhausting, day in your lab. You were working on a crisis prediction real-time monitoring system to anticipate global threats. You were convinced it would allow the Avengers to respond to trouble faster, but perfecting the privacy algorithm had been an absolute pain in the ass, and you still hadn't gotten it quite right. Technically, you could have farmed the project off to a subordinate; hell, even a team of subordinates of a subordinate, but this was one of your pet projects and you insisted on being hands-on in its development.

You had your tablet open as you walked, chewing on your thumb and reviewing the dataset from the run of your latest algorithm model one more time. Closer, but not good enough. If you were going to convince Tony that this was a program worth implementing, especially at its projected cost, everything had to be perfect. "Damn it," you muttered to yourself.

You rounded the corner and ran smack into Bucky's chest, dropping your tablet and causing him to drop the three books he'd been holding under his remaining arm. "Oh, shit-- I'm so sorry," you uttered as you bent down to retrieve the dropped items. Bucky leaned down to assist you, but you waved him off.

"’S my fault; I've got it," you told him, piling up his books for him. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Bucky leaned up against the wall and chuckled while you stood up and handed the books back to him. "I doubt you could hurt me," he said, smiling softly. "No offense."

You let out a small laugh. "None taken." He was a super soldier, after all. Stealing a glance at book spines, you couldn't suppress the smile that crossed your face. "Lord of the Rings," you nodded appreciatively. "Have you read them before?"

Bucky looked down at the books tucked under his arm. "No, first time. I read The Hobbit back when it was first published in '37, but these didn't come out until after..." he trailed off, but you knew what he meant. After he'd been abducted and brainwashed, turned into a murderer.

You nodded in understanding. "I'm actually really excited for you," you told him. "What I wouldn't give to be able to read them again for the first time."

"You a Tolkien fan, then?" he asked you. When you nodded, he continued: "When I finish them, maybe we can talk about them sometime? Steve's not really into fantasy."

"Yeah, I'd like that," you said. "If you're interested, we could watch the movies. I'll warn you though; they're long as hell, but their masterpieces. I mean, they didn't need to turn The Hobbit into three separate films, but still, they'll blow your fucking mind."

Bucky ran his tongue over his lower lip and you couldn't help but follow the motion with your eyes. "That sounds like fun," he said, his eyes twinkling with... something. "Your place or mine?" Was he… flirting with you?

"How 'bout you finish the books first, then we'll talk logistics," you teased. "Hey, speaking of, what floor did they end up putting you on?"

"Um, this one, actually," he said, tilting his head toward a nearby door.

"No shit," you remarked, laughingly. "You must have done something to piss Rogers off, because he put you right across the hall from me."

Bucky looked down, scuffing the toe of his boot against the carpeting. "He said it was the quietest floor, thought I'd prefer that."

You pursed your lips, considering. "Yeah, that makes sense; it's just been me on this level for ages. It'll be nice to have some company for a change."

Bucky looked surprised. "Stark's kept you down here all by your lonesome? That doesn't seem very nice."

You shook your head and dismissed his concern with a wave. "Oh, no-- Tony hates that I still live down here, actually. He put in all new living quarters a few years back. Everyone migrated upstairs, but I was the only one who didn't want to move."

"Why's that?" Bucky asked, appearing genuinely interested.

"I've lived here since I graduated college," you admitted, "back when it was still just Stark Tower. When Tony relocated here from Malibu to rebrand it for the Avengers, he wanted to redo everything, which meant fancy new suites for everybody. But I love my rooms, so I asked to stay put. They've been my home for so long now and I guess I just like the stability, you know?"

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "And Tony thinks highly enough of you that he let the blow to his ego slide?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I have enough dirt on him that he felt like he didn't have much of a choice." You snorted, not able to keep up the pretense. "No, but seriously, I know you and Tony have a complicated... history, but he's not a bad guy. Ego as tall as this Tower, yes, definitely, but he's also incredibly kind and generous. He paid for my entire college education-- undergrad, post-grad, doctorate. I owe everything I have to him."

Bucky shifted against the wall. "That is pretty generous. And he never expected anything from you in return?" He didn't say the words out loud, but the implication was there. Had you slept with Tony in exchange for your diplomas? The innuendo should have bothered you, but it had been posed to you so many times over the years, you'd stopped being offended by it. Before Pepper, Tony had had quite the reputation, after all, and an MIT education didn’t exactly come cheap. Most people couldn’t understand why he would offer a full ride to someone who, at the time, had been a complete stranger.

"Tony appreciates talent," you clarified. "When he finds it, he cultivates it, nourishes it, does everything he can to help it grow to its fullest potential. But he does like to get a return on his investments, and my skills have helped him make a lot of money." You shrugged your shoulders with a chuckle. "I love my job, I love the work we do, I love the stupid weirdo family we've built here, so I've always considered meeting Tony to be the best thing that ever happened to me. He's kind of like my own fairy godfather."

"So, what exactly does he have you do around here?" Bucky asked. "I know Steve said you did computer stuff, but you said it was an over-simplification."

You ran a hand up to rub the back of your neck while you considered your answer. How best to explain your position to someone who was born before the invention of the television? "Okay," you exhaled, "so, short answer is that I'm the CTO, the Chief Technology Officer, of Stark Industries and, under that, I run the Avenger’s Technology and Innovation Department. It's sort of our take on Research and Development. I've got a lab where I'm in charge of about 450 scientists, engineers, computer programmers, analysts, et. cetera. And our entire job is coming up with cool new ways of making things easier for the Avengers. Like, new features for suits, developing useful programs, coming up with new defenses and weapons, that kind of thing. And if we've got missions that require heavy computer- or tech-work, I come along for on-site support. I'm combat-trained and good with languages, so that comes in handy in the field. There’s probably a ton of field agents that could go in my place, but for Tony, it’s a matter of trust."

Bucky let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Damn. That's impressive. You're a little intimidating, you know that?"

Laughing, you tucked your tablet under your arm. "Please. I'm about as intimidating as a hamster." You paused to think. "Maybe a hamster with rabies, but still a hamster."

A series of beeps emanated from your tablet. As you pulled it out to check the alert, Bucky moved away from the wall. "I'm so sorry-- you were heading back to your room and I've basically been holding you hostage this entire time."

"Actually," you said, silencing the notification alarm that had distracted you, "That was just a reminder I set for myself to eat. Sometimes I lose track of time in the lab and completely forget to have dinner. Are you hungry? You could join me."

Bucky pulled his head back, regarding you as though he wasn't sure if you were serious.

"Or, if you don't want to, that's cool," you said quickly once you noticed his hesitation. "I mean, you wanted a quiet floor. Annoying neighbor is probably the last--"

"I'd love to," interrupted Bucky with a grin. "I'm just surprised someone like you would want to spend time with someone like me."

"Someone like me? Hey now, for all you know, I could be an absolute trash person," you teased, playfully punching him on the shoulder.

Bucky chuckled, his eyes sparkling with a newfound warmth. "Well, I highly doubt that, but I guess I'll find out soon enough."

"Don't say I didn't warn you when you do." You cocked your head toward the door to your room. "I'm going to change out of my work clothes. While I do, how about you decide what you're in the mood for, and we'll go from there. That sound good?" Bucky nodded as you let yourself into your room. The evening had taken an unexpected turn, but you found you were looking forward to spending more time in the company of Bucky Barnes.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky x y/n

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sosa2imagines · 3 months

Text

Promises broken, promises kept.

Warnings- Angst, comfort and fluff, pregnancy. -----------------------------------------------------

"I'll never break your heart." You keep thinking about it, why did you believe that line? Isn't it obvious when someone says that, they will break your heart?!

When you had joined the Avengers, your sole purpose was to help save the world. But as days went by, you became friends with everyone. Especially closer to Steve. Looking after Bucky brought you both closer. But you guys never crossed the line beyond friendship. Things were good.

When the infinity war happened and Tony took retirement, while the rest turn to dust. The remaining you were devastated. While Natasha was trying her best to get to Clint, along with running the world, you and Steve found solace in each other. The first time it happened was, when Steve ended up having a nightmare about Bucky and he slept with you. After you had calmed him, you both ended up kissing each other and one thing led to another.

You had strictly made the pact to be only friends with benefits. And that's how it was. Most nights were spent in bed together having amazing sex. Steve was obsessed with every single curve on your body. But as time went by Steve started to fall for you or atleast that is what you think.

"I promise you Y/n I will never break your heart." How naïve of you to believe him. Despite your past experiences and he knowing about them, you gave in. You both were officially a couple.

When Scott showed up and the possibility of getting everyone back came true. Everyone got to work along with Tony. When everyone came back from the past with the stones, you all were mourning Natasha, but your heart hurt a little bit more when Steve just couldn't stop talking about how close he was to Peggy. Like a good listener you listened to him with a smile on your face and the night ending in sex. Getting everyone back came with another cost. You lost Tony. You couldn't even tell him he was going to be an uncle. Yes, you got pregnant, apparently little bit of carelessness cost you. But you were not complaining.

When you told Steve the good news, you were hoping for any reaction instead of a "That's great, I'm happy". You tried and tried to ignore the burning sensation. Maybe you are over-reacting or just thinking too much. Just a week before the actual day of going back in time to return the stones, Steve took part in the trial of the time machine. You were scared to death. But Steve promised you “Nothing will happen to me baby doll, I’ll come back to you. I promise” And nothing truly happened to him. He kept his promise. He came back safe and sound. Just not alone though. He came back with Peggy, holding her close to his side. Steve’s eyes never left Peggy who was looking around in awe. But you still had faith in him. Maybe he is just happy and nothing else.

Bruce was the first to break the silence, while Sam and Bucky stood next to you protectively. “What have you done? You can’t play with past, present and future!” Finally, Steve’s gaze falls on you all, before opening his mouth, “Look I know you all are upset.” Taking a step forward from the platform with Peggy. “Peggy wanted to see the future, I’m going to take her back when I go to return the stones.” Before anyone can say something else, Steve started introducing Peggy to everyone. “Sergeant Barnes, so good to see you.” Peggy smiles, “Yeah, Hi Peggy.” He replies somewhat uncomfortable about the situation, glaring at Steve. When it came to introduce you to Peggy, Steve was bit nervous. But he had no choice, since everyone around, except for Peggy, knew about your relationship with Steve. Having waited enough, you introduced yourself, “Hi Peggy, I’m Y/n, Steve’s girlfriend.” Peggy’s smile faded, the anger on her face, if looks could kill, Peggy just murdered you in more than ten ways.

Later that day when everyone was back in the compound, Steve refused to leave Peggy alone. He brought her back to your shared apartment, to live with you and him. “Peggy, please listen to me, it is not what you think like, I was alone here, you have no idea how much I have lost, that’s when Y/n came into my life and I found solace in her.” Steve explains with puppy dog like expression, Peggy was furious, how dare you steal her Steve? Peggy was not going to let that happen. She would make Steve realize, he belongs to her and not you. “Oh Steve, I’m back now, you are not alone anymore. We can live our life, just the way we wanted.” Steve was over the moon, when he heard Peggy say this. But at the same time, he knew this was not possible for them at the current moment and then there was you, carrying his child. “Y/n…she is pregnant.” Steve tells her hesitantly, Peggy was not in the mood to hear any of this, as much as she wanted to rip Steve apart, she knew she had to be careful, with her words. “Is it yours?” “I..think so” Steve lies, while Peggy smirks. “Then there’s nothing to worry about. Show me around darling, we have got little time for ourselves.” And that’s what he did, Steve spent his time with her. Even the nights were spent with her. Steve would often come to bed late, after you did go to sleep.

He took Peggy to all the places he has been with you. From museum, to the diner, to the secret lake just behind the park. Whatever Peggy wants, Steve does that. Thankfully, you did get some alone time with Steve, only when Peggy use to go for bath. Apart from that time, she would be stuck by his hip. “It’s feels like ages, I have spent some time with you Steve.” Steve looks at you when you mention that, giving you a half smile. “Oh, baby doll, are you jealous?” He teases, but that didn’t hurt you, the fact he can’t see the pain in your eyes, hurt you the most. One night on your way to the kitchen, you saw Steve and Peggy dancing, to close to comfort, her eyes were closed, head resting on his chest. While Steve looked at her in adoration. When he saw you, he gave you a curt nod and a smile which you returned.

Maybe, just maybe Steve is using this time to be with her, till she goes back again. Maybe just maybe you have nothing to worry about. The night before the big day, Steve at last came to bed early. You both ended up having the best sex! Something the way he was nuzzling into you made you feel something is not right. “Steve?” “Umm?” “I’m, scared.” “Don’t be scared Y/n, everything is fine.” The way he said your name instead of baby doll, made you flinch. He did never call you by your actual name. “You’ll come back to me, right?” “I promise you.”

The next day, Steve was standing on the platform with Peggy, looking very happy. His hand firm on her back. He looks at everyone, before finally glancing at you with a small smile. He nods to Bruce to start, and on a count of five Steve is back in the past with Peggy.

Bruce, Sam, Bucky and you waited and waited. Five hours went by, Bucky was the first to break the dreading silence. "He is not coming back, punk." Sam gave him a look to warn him about you, but you just raised your hand and instinctively held your stomach with your free hand and ran away from there. When you reached the apartment, shared apartment, you fell on the floor and cried your heart out. Everything hurt, the pain was unbearable. The loneliness and emptiness started to haunt you. The pictures of you and Steve were looking like they are laughing at your misery. You took each and every single frame and threw it on the floor with mighty force, removing your anger. Your appetite was lost, you barely took care of yourself, forgetting you are pregnant.

When no one heard from you for a week, Bucky and Sam came to meet you. When you didn't open the door, Sam thought you might be out, but Bucky felt something wrong so before Sam can stop him, Bucky broke the door. They met with the site of dirty house, picture frames broken, Bucky kept on calling your name, when he reached the bedroom his heart sank. You were lying unconscious on the ground. "SAM!". They both took you to the hospital. That's when the doctor told them that you are pregnant and suffering from stress and dehydration. Sam was furious and angry with Steve, while Bucky was in his own dilemma. 'Did Steve know? What if he does not know? When did you found out? Do you regret it? What are you going to do now? How will you do it alone?'

After some hours you regain consciousness. "Bucky?", the mention of his name brought him out of his thoughts. "Y'/n, how are you feeling?" "Bucky, what happened?" you ask voice barely above whisper. "Doll, you were unconscious, because of stress and dehydration." You panicked when Bucky told you that, hand immediately going on the stomach, Bucky sensed it and was quick to inform you "The baby is fine. But you need to rest and take good care." Relief washed over you, tears forming in your eyes. Bucky took hold of your hand, sitting next to you, "Y/n?" "Umm?" "Did...did Steve...did Steve know?" You cried at that question just nodding your head unable to talk, what you didn't realize was Bucky crying with you. Bucky couldn't believe Steve left you in this state. What was he thinking? This was not his best friend and brother. "I'm sorry Y/n, I'm so sorry", you and Bucky cried together, Sam left to give you both some privacy and to hide his own tears. "Are you going to...what have you decided...have you decided on anything?" "I'm going to keep it" you sniffle, Bucky nodded his head in response. "Let me help you please" you were about to interrupt before he raised his hand to let him speak first. "For friendship shake, you have done a lot for me, please let me be there for you."

Bucky was quick to convince you. You refused to go back to your and Steve's apartment. So Bucky took you to his. Now his minimal furniture home was full of furniture, in door plants and other necessities. You made his home, cozy and homely. You both took care of each other. And to be honest you were glad he was there for you. The cravings and mood swings were getting better of you.

Bucky did not complain once. Even when you made him to eat peanut butter and cheese sandwich. "Doll you sure, you are craving this?" he gulps nervously looking at you, while you are busy devouring the sandwich, in a muffled voice you replied "Oh just try it and even if you don't like it, I can eat it." Bucky tried and surprisingly he liked the combination and before he could actually finish the sandwich happily, you were looking at him with teary pouty look, okay not at him but his sandwich, which he hesitantly gave it to you.

One night you had a nightmare about Steve coming back to take your baby away, you cried hyperventilating, breathing becoming difficult, Bucky stayed all night with you, helping you. "Please don't go Bucky, stay with me please" you begged and Bucky was quick to cup your cheeks wiping your tears "Doll I'm always with you and no one is going to take away our child, I promise you." When Bucky said 'our child' you felt secure. Since that night Bucky was the father of your baby.

He didn't even get angry when on random times, you use to miss Steve. "What if he is stuck in time?" "Then, he will do anything to come back to you." "What if Peggy has forced him to stay?" "Then I promise you I'll go back in time and kill her." “Ste…Steve he promised, maybe I did something wrong….” Bucky cups your cheeks to stop you from rambling and getting nervous again “Hey, hey look at me Y/n, I believe you doll. You didn’t do anything wrong. Steve is a fucking idiot, he has no idea what he has lost. I promise you doll I will protect our child and I will never leave you.”

The last month of the pregnancy was difficult, with the constant fear of going into labor. Ten days were left for the baby to born. But on the fifth day you were restless. The fact that you were dealing with this pregnancy for so many months with all these struggles, pains and discomforts made Bucky feel so empathetic towards you. You were really strong minded still fighting it all and that's what he loved about you.

He saw that you were getting really restless and he knew what it meant. It was a clear signal that the baby might actually be coming today. He was nervous, but he needed to keep his calm and make sure everything was taken care of. He didn't want you to worry about a thing.

"There should be a machine, where the mother can transfer the womb into the father...ow!" You tried to joke to ease the pain. "Wow! That's a really nice idea. If only we could get that machine and I could do the whole process in my body instead of you going through all these pains and discomforts." Bucky replied keeping the humor. "No! I don't want you to be in pain" you cried, damn mood swings! He laughed at this statement of yours. The way you were being so protective of him even in this phase was very sweet. "Oh doll! It's the other way around. I wouldn't want you to be going through all these discomforts either. I'd take all the pain myself if I could."

"I really appreciate that Bucky....oh my god" you whined in pain. Bucky was watching you as you were pacing back and forth. As soon as you said "oh my god" he got up, his instinct was already kicking in and he ran to hold you. He was watching you closely because he knew you had started getting contractions now.

"Please tell me the wetness on the floor is something else", as he looked at the floor, it was wet and his face changed. He knew what that meant. He took your hands to comfort you. "Your water broke. We need to go to the hospital now and as fast as possible."

"Nah, I must have peed, I need to sleep!" He could feel that you were getting more and more nervous, going into a panic right now. So he needed to support you more than ever now. He was trying to keep you calm but it was hard. "It's okay doll. I know you're not ready for it but it's only natural that it should happen. You can do it my love. I'm going to be right here besides you, so don't worry at all."

He was holding you tightly and making sure that you didn't fall down. He was being so protective of you right now, trying to support and keep you calm. He didn't want you to panic right now as that the last thing he wanted during this stage.

"Don't forget the bag and call Sam to help you." Again, you were thinking about him, when you supposed to think about yourself and the baby. He quickly rushed into the other room to bring the bag which had all the items you would need. He returned soon with the bag in his hands. Bucky carried you in his arms towards the car, making you sit comfortably. He immediately calls Sam to inform him.

Your contractions were getting a little bit more painful now as you started struggling with the pain. Bucky was very calm even at this very moment. He had a sense of responsibility that he needed to take care of you. Your condition was clearly deteriorating and he needed to stay composed and strong for you. As he started driving, he was just trying to keep you calm and make you breathe slow and deep. You tried to distract yourself by focusing on the people on the road, to thinking about food, even the new Sylvester Stallone movie. Bucky was proud to see you being brave despite being in pain.

As soon as you reached the hospital you were taken to the maternity ward. The delivery was complicated, you nearly fainted twice, Bucky kept on encouraging you, telling you how proud he is. Labor was hard. But with lots of struggle your daughter was born. Healthy half super solider. When you held her, you cried but this time because of happiness. In the end the pain was worth it. Bucky was scared to hold her, but you encouraged him. When your baby girl got comfortable in his arms, Bucky couldn't believe it. He felt so many emotions. He secretly vowed to protect you both and keep you happy.

The nurse asked if you had decided on a name for the baby, which you immediately told her with confidence and no hesitation "Natalia Sarah Barnes." Bucky was shocked, he asked the nurse to give you some time to think, but you refused to change the name. The nurse left and Bucky looked at you for confirmation. "Doll, you gave Natalia my last name" "I know after all she is your daughter, Bucky" "I'm not...are you sure?....you can" before he can finish you spoke again, "Bucky remember when I had the nightmare about Steve taking her away?" Bucky nodded "You said you will protect our child, since then she was yours." Bucky was speechless, his eyes teary Natalia in his arms, he couldn't believe you gave her his last name.

Unlike Steve, Bucky never broke the promises he made to you and your daughter. He was a man of his words. He would do anything for you both.

As years went by things were starting to look good. Natalia was three now. Bucky was her dad and she was proud of him. Of course, you had told her about Steve, but it was her decision on what she wants to do.

As for you and Bucky, you both know, your relationship is more than just friendship, but at the moment you both are focusing more on Natalia rather than yourselves. But the possibilities of you both being together is endless.

----------------------------------------------------- @ashhsage I hope you like this, and sorry it took so much of time to get it done. -----------------------------------------------------

#sebastian stan characters #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader #chris evans characters

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sam24 · 4 months

Text

Metal Arm Cupid

Summary: Bucky didn't know what to expect in the 21st century. But he definitely didn't expect cute girls to barge into meeting rooms and beat people up.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

*****

Bucky made no attempt to stifle his yawn as he pretended to listen to the debrief (that was looking more like an argument to him) that was going on way too long for his liking, earning a sharp glare from Steve, but Bucky could tell that deep down, Steve wanted to hightail outta there too.

“Stop taking all the credit, Josh. I was the one who stabbed him. You just sat there and watched like an obese cow.”

Josh (Bucky thought his name was Jack until now) scoffed. “That’s Agent 16 to you, Avery.”

“It’s actually Avril, you little-”

“Agents, you better stop this instantly.” Fury narrowed his eyes at the bickering partners.

“Stop embarrassing me in front of the Avengers, Evelyn, and let me do the talking. Clearly you can’t because of those oversized donkey teeth of yours.” Josh paid no heed to Fury.

The girl (Avril?) gasped and her hand instinctively flew to cover her mouth. “Why you-”

“Okay, that’s enough.” A dangerously calm voice rang through the room.

All eyes flew towards Natasha, you looked like she was going to murder the next person who opened their mouth.

“This is why I don’t go on missions with sensitive baby agents.” She muttered in Russian.

Bucky cracked a smile.

“How come no one listens to me?” Fury grumbled.

“Probably because you aren’t a trained assassin with 20 different weapons hidden on your body, and I bet you also don’t know 5 different ways to kill someone with an oven mitt.” Clint whispered in Fury’s ear.

“It doesn’t matter who stabbed who, it matters what happened in the end. And in the end, I was the one you saved your ungrateful asses, so you can stop arguing like toddlers now.” Natasha growled.

Her eyes narrowed specifically at Josh.

Nobody spoke. Probably because no sane person wanted a bullet from Natasha’s gun in their head.

“You seriously couldn’t have done that 20 minutes ago?”

Of course, though, Tony Stark was far from sane.

“Shut up, Tony.” At least 5 different people said at the same time.

Josh cleared his throat, recovering from his mini paralysis stroke.

“No offense, but-”

Before Josh could get himself killed, loud voices outside of the door made everyone turn.

Honestly, they all probably would’ve turned even to watch a fly so they could ignore Josh’s excuses.

“Miss, I can’t let you-”

“I really don’t care, so move. Now.”

Bruce immediately sat up. “Is that Ace?”

“Oh, thank god.” Tony let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “I’m so bored right now, maybe she’ll make this actually interesting.”

Even though Bucky’s stay at the compound started recently, he had heard plenty of stories about you, the infamous ‘Ace’. To what he’d heard, you worked at the lab with Bruce and Tony, like a daughter to them both. You were an ‘intellectual sage’ (described by Barton), hence the nickname, Ace.

“I said, MOVE!”

“Banner, what is the meaning of this?” Fury ordered.

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows and completely ignored him. “What in the world is she doing?”

“Banner!”

“I SAID MOVE, DAMNIT.” A loud thud followed closely and the door was flung open so hard it practically ripped off of its hinges.

“Lord have mercy.” Bruce buried his face into his hands as you barged into the room, pulling along a terrified looking girl behind you.

Bucky’s eyebrows raised with interest as he took in your purple highlights, Converse High-Tops, and Gravity Falls shirt peeking out from under your lab coat.

“Look, missy, in case you haven’t noticed, this is a private meeting. I’m going to give you 5 seconds to leave before I have you escorted out instantly.” Fury demanded.

“Yeah, that’s cool, Patchy the Pirate, just give me a minute.” You weren’t even looking at Fury as you scanned the room.

“Ha! Patchy the Pirate! Laura’s gonna love this!” Clint smacked his hand on the table and leaned his chair back (and almost fell backwards if Steve didn’t catch it, but that’s not the point).

Fury looked like he was seriously contemplating life as you still didn’t spare him a glance, and your narrowed hawk eyes landed on someone behind Bucky.

He followed your gaze to meet Josh, who had raised two fingers in the air cockily to greet you and the girl behind you.

“Josh, you mother fucker.”

And before Steve could say ‘language!’ (yes, Bucky had caught on pretty quickly after Tony would say it every other sentence), you had crossed the room in what felt like just two strides and socked Josh right in the jaw.

The room erupted in chaos.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Steve was up on his feet in a millisecond, his Captain America side taking over.

“That’s it, honey! Do it again!” Tony cheered.

“Is this some kind of Midgardian greeting that I have not yet been informed of?”

“Someone tell me what the hell is going on in my own meeting!”

“That was the best thing I’ve seen in my whole life.” Avril grinned.

Natasha didn’t say anything, but her face clearly said ‘girl, me too’.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” Sam chuckled from next to Bucky.

“Same.” Bucky muttered under his breath.

“Whoa hold up, did you just agree with me??”

“Shut up, pigeon brain.”

“Excu-”

The only thing that stopped Sam and Bucky’s cat fight was another punch to Josh’s precious face, this time right in the nose.

Bruce tried to reason with you from across the whole ass room, practically shouting over all the commotion as Steve tried to pull you away from Josh.

“Ace, sweetheart, why don’t you talk it out instead of going straight to violence? Doesn’t that sound like a better idea?”

“Sounds great, Bruce, but that’s not an option anymore!” You shouted back over your shoulder.

“Look, champ, it’s not right to randomly punch people like that!” Steve was still trying to pry you away from Josh.

“Look, Pops,” You mocked. “It’s also not right to cheat on your girlfriend with some random chick you ran into at a bar!”

Everything stopped.

Except Josh’s struggling from your grasp.

“He cheated on you?” Tony broke the silence, looking like he was going to blast Josh into outer space. “Wait, when were you guys even together? And why in the goddamn world would you date that guy?”

“Not me, dimwit, her.” You point your free hand that was not gripped on Josh’s collar at the girl behind you, looking ready to sprint out of there when all eyes landed on her.

“Just leave it, ma moitié, it’s not worth it.” She said quietly, her words coated in a thick french accent.

Bucky recognized her as the nice agent who gave him a coffee last week after Sam ‘accidentally’ knocked over Bucky’s.

“Just leave it? Absolutely not, hun!”

“Listen to her, Ace.” Bruce pleaded.

“No! This sleazy bastard cheated on my best friend! No fucking way! Literally, who the hell would cheat on a cute french girl?”

“Ace, violence isn’t the right way to-”

“Excuse me?” Josh’s voice rang out, sounding like someone was holding his nose closed shut. “Can someone get me an ice pack?”

You whipped around towards him.

“You. Want. An. Ice pack.” You restated, shooting daggers- no, 7 inch sharp kitchen knives at him.

“My nose hurts.” Josh rolled his eyes. “Y’know, after you turned all Crazy Psycho Lady on me and broke it.”

“You know what?” Your smile dripped with bitterness and sarcasm. “How about I punch it again so it’ll go numb and it won’t hurt anymore?”

You reached your arm backwards to land another punch, but Steve rushed to grab you again, and the chaos resumed.

Tony was instructing you to “kick Steve in the balls and resume beating the shit out of Josh”, while Bruce was very strongly vetoing the idea.

Sam and Clint, meanwhile, were placing bets on how much the medical bill was gonna be.

Suddenly, Bruce rushed over to Bucky.

“Look, man, you gotta help me.”

Bucky looked at Bruce with wide eyes. “Me?”

“Yeah! If you tell her to stop, she would in a heartbeat!”

“Why?” Bucky knew where this was going.

“Because of your metal arm!”

Bucky’s heart sank. Of course you were scared of it. Everyone was. They thought it made him a monster.

So did he.

Even though he was so, so grateful to Shuri for trying to help him feel like a new person with a new arm that wasn’t associated with HYDRA, that bloody ruthless murderer that they made him into never seemed to leave.

He would always be him.

No matter how hard he tried, the memories followed him like a lost puppy, attacking at night when he was trying to sleep.

No matter how hard he tried, he could never shake off the imprint HYDRA had left on him.

No matter how hard he tried or how much Steve told him otherwise, Bucky was still a monster.

A cruel, cold-hearted, evil monster who killed the innocent.

Who killed innocent men, women, and children who didn’t deserve to be killed.

He was the one who deserved to be killed.

“She’s absolutely obsessed with it!”

Bucky choked on his spit.

“Wha-w-what?”

“She adores it.” Bruce rushed. “She says it’s, and I quote, the most beautiful and extraordinary thing to ever be made in history.”

Okay, so apparently Bucky did not know where that was going.

“Still not convinced?” Bruce groaned. “She thinks it’s the most amazing thing in the galaxy. She says it’s the ‘peak of engineering’. You can ask Tony if you still don’t believe me.”

Tony wasn’t extremely fond of Bucky, and neither was Bucky of him, so he decided to take Bruce’s word for it, no matter how much it shocked him.

She likes my arm?

Just because she likes your arm doesn’t mean she likes you, idiot.

“Uh, okay? So, um, what do I do?”

“Tell her to stop!” Bruce lightly shoved Bucky forward when he slowly got up out of his seat.

Bucky hesitantly took a step forward, his mind still trying to process everything.

Bucky maneuvered around Steve, tapping you - who was still out to get it for Josh- on the shoulder after a moment of hesitation.

“Bruce, I already told you, it’s too late-” You spun out of Steve’s grip, but your mouth dropped open when you realized it was not Bruce.

You stared at Bucky with wide eyes. But not out of fear.

Out of adoration.

He was struck with a sudden flash of nostalgia of how his mom looked at him when he gave her a card for Mother’s Day when he was 6.

"Oh, Jamie, I love it.” She had said as she read it with a soft smile.

And that same smile was on your face. “Um, hi there.”

He smiled back.

But not one of those fake smiles he put on to make Steve happy. An actual genuine smile.

And it felt good.

You smoothed out your coat, taking in a breath. “Can I help you?”

Steve stared at the two of you, a grin spreading onto his face.

“I’m not surprised. Those psychos are perfect for each other.” Josh rolled his eyes.

Neither of you heard him.

“Hi, I’m Bucky.”

“She knows.” Tony groaned.

“Shut up, Tony.” Your eyes never left Bucky’s. “Hi Bucky.”

He saw your eyes light up as they made their way to look at his metal arm.

Bruce cleared his throat loudly.

“So, um, Ace. The arm has been giving me a bit of trouble recently. I was wondering if you could maybe take a look at it?” Bucky glanced at Bruce before looking back at you.

“He means now.” Bruce added.

You looked like you were going to faint out of excitement.

“Y-yeah, of course.”

Bruce let out a loud sigh of relief.

“Um, actually.” Bucky started.

Bruce’s head shot up and started mouthing something to Bucky - probably something along the lines of ‘No! Get her out of here before she kills him!’- but he was busy looking at you.

“Maybe you wanna grab a coffee first?”

#marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #crack fic

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aurumacadicus · 1 month

Note

Oh oh oh!!! 37 or 73. Dealer’s choice.

Thanks!

I decided to be nice and went with 73 <3

"I am getting real tired of meeting you here," Tony said, and he looked just as long-suffering as he sounded when Steve looked up at him through the bars of his cell. "I'm also getting real tired of everyone but you calling me for help."

Steve opened his mouth, but he wasn't entirely certain what to say. He's called Tony for help the first time he'd gotten arrested, but Tony had looked so bewildered and... sort of offended when he'd arrived? Steve had decided he'd stop calling Tony and just call on his less judgemental teammates (Bruce was a no-go after the second time) to come bail him out. He had no idea why they, in turn, had called Tony up to take on his bail. He always offered to pay them back, and he always showed up for court.

Come to think of it, the judge was starting to look at him a lot like Tony was, Steve mused, rubbing his hand over his mouth to hide an amused smile.

"You know," Tony continued when Steve said nothing, and the smile dropped from his face when he realized he'd actually been waiting for a response. "I understand you're trying to... figure yourself out, or whatever Natasha said. I just wish--"

"I am not trying to figure myself out. I am punching neo-nazis," Steve corrected firmly. "I do not enjoy punching neo-nazis. In fact, I very much dislike the fact that there are neo-nazis to punch."

Tony pursed his lips, obviously unimpressed. "The pictures the Daily Bugle post show you looking quite happy to punch them. It looks a little unhinged actually and I am officially asking you to fucking cut it out for a month. I have a fundraiser for the Maria Stark Foundation and I don't want to spend the entire thing fielding questions about your disdain for the law."

"I've never been convicted of a crime," Steve began, drawing himself up in offense.

"You're Captain America. Who wants to convict Captain America of a crime when you punch a neo-nazi?" Tony retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Stop punching people. Find a different hobby. I hear bird watching and crossword puzzles are popular with your age group."

"I'm telling Natasha you think her crossword puzzles make her old," Steve tried again.

"Her gardening hobby makes her old too. Make sure you tell her I said that," Tony retorted, then stepped closer, pointing at him through the bars. "I'm telling you one last time before I put my foot up your ass, Steve. Do things that make you happy--within the confines of the legal system."

It took everything in him not to immediately answer 'no.' He thought Tony might actually break through the bars and murder him. "Okay."

Tony blinked at him, apparently having expected more argument. Steve normally would have given him one, but Tony had proved very protective over his mother's foundation and all the events it held. Steve didn't feel inclined to push his luck. Especially since he was inside the cell and Tony was not, and Tony could leave him here.

"...Okay," Tony finally agreed. He narrowed his eyes skeptically. Steve tried to look as innocent as possible and was rewarded with a sour, "Don't do that."

"Fine," Steve said, contrite expression dropping. "Can we leave?"

Tony continued to stare at him, considering. Finally, though, he huffed, rolling his eyes. "Fine. I sent your court date to Natasha since you broke your phone on someone's face. Please stop doing illegal shit until after the gala."

Steve sighed. "Fine. Can I take you out to coffee? That's not illegal anymore apparently."

Tony whipped around to stare at him again, aghast. Finally, he managed to bark a confused, "HUH?"

"You told me to find my happiness within legal confines," Steve reasoned. "Homosexuality was legalized in New York in the eighties. I looked it up."

Tony stared at him a little longer, then let out a reedy, overwhelmed laugh. "What are you talking about?!"

"Let's discuss it over coffee," Steve tried again, and then, "Or dinner? Whichever you prefer."

"Shut the fuck up," Tony laughed, rolling his eyes, and finally turned to leave. "I'll go tell the officer to let you out."

Steve watched him go, stunned. Then he crossed his arms over his chest with a huff. This was why he preferred punching neo-nazis. They, at least, knew what his intentions were. He could probably give Tony a 'will you go out with me? yes or yes' note and he'd just laugh and say he forgot to add 'no.'

#aurumacadicus answers #anon #1-161 stony ficlet challenge #stony #anyway steve decides to take a break from punching nazis to harass tony into dating him and tony is BEWILDERED but sort of into it?#he doesn't know what to do about this and natasha and clint think it's funny so they don't help

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yeeterthek33per · 9 months

Text

Love it, Love you (Caitlin Foord x Reader)

A/n requested

Summary: You and Caitlin are filming for the disney matildas series.

---------

Slow motion scene of Caitlin bounding over to you on the sideline, hands grabbing your face, pressing your lips together after scoring against Spain. There's a soft flow of piano music over the top.

"Ya know, I don't think we ever really explained that one to the girl's either."

Caitlin chuckles softly and shakes her head in agreeing negativity. Both of you are sitting on the white couch in your house in London. You're tucked under her arm.

"Yeah, no, I don't think we'd told them at that point. So I think they kind of freaked out on us after the game."

You lean off the couch with a soft laugh, head in your hands, ruffling your hair slightly.

Caitlin shakes her head with a sigh.

"That's an understatement. Poor Steph, girl was getting bombarded as well. Not that she knew either. Cait and I were just sitting there while they all kind of just lost their minds. Steph looked utterly disappointed that we hadn't told her sooner."

"Your sister.. well."

You give Caitlin a look.

"My sister looked ready to deck you. Macca looked like she would probably have to hold her back and Sam just facepalmed and told the girls to cool it so we could actually answer. Tony didn't even bother sticking around for the whole debacle."

"Yeah, that was a tough one. I don't think Lans has been able to trust me properly since. I love the girl, but man does she hold a grudge."

You slap her on the shoulder with an eye roll.

"Excuse me, you forget you're engaged to her sister here. I imagine any protective older sister would be peaved about one of their best mates suddenly sidling up with their sibling. Also I'd like to point out you could very well still call that woman to help you bury a dead body and she would do so no questions asked. So I'd like to think she still trusts you very much thanks."

Cut to a video of Caitlin celebrating with Alanna after a brilliant header from the defender against Jamaica.

"Don't know if that makes it better, honestly. I'm afraid she'll stick me in my sleep one day."

Cut back to the couch, You give her a playful glare.

"Just because you copped the shovel talk from one of the tallest girls on the team, does not mean she'd actually murder you. At least not without prompting. I can't imagine she would kill you without you doing something first."

Caitlin just turns her head back to the camera with an incredulous look.

"Anyway, that was four days before our third anniversary. Literally two days before I proposed. I think Alanna might have been too late to stop it or you know, try to break us up. Ya know?"

You fake a cough into your balled hand, turning away slightly.

"What? Did she actually try? Oh my god, I swear I will kick her butt if she actually tried."

You whip your head around at her, a disbelieving laugh leaving your lips.

"Oh you'll kick her but will you? What happened to being terrified of her?"

Caitlin keeps her mouth shut and you tut softly, hand resting on her knee.

"That's what I thought. Yes she did try to forbid me from dating you, cinderella style and all. But after some convincing, she switched it up to reminding me that I could still dump you if I changed my mind and she wouldn't totally gut you afterwards."

Caitlin looks dead on into the lense, an unimpressed look of told-you-so playing on her expression. You burst out laughing at that.

"See what I have to deal with? Why did I agree to marry you again?"

You smack her on the chest, backhanded.

"You're the one that proposed doofus."

She just grins cheekily.

"Oh yeah, I did too. is it too late for a refund?"

You roll your eyes, and scoff.

"Give you 'refund'."

She rubs your shoulder, pecking you on the cheek.

"You love me."

"Debatable."

You receive puppy dog eyes in return and poke her nose, a resounding groan as you push her slightly, turning back to the camera again.

The video fades to black and shifts to a new scene between you.

---------

You're standing in your backyard watching Caitlin run around and play tug of war with Peach.

"I'm so proud of her, everything she does is just phenominal and I'm glad I got to be part of her journey. The moment I got the call from her saying she'd been considered for an Arsenal transfer, it was then I knew I would follow her anywhere."

Cut to footage of Caitlin scoring against Aston Villa.

Cut back to you looking at the brunette, with major heart eyes.

"We were only together for about a few weeks at that point, but having been close friends before then made it feel like longer. She wasn't one hundred percent in it, especially since she thought she'd be leaving me in Australia on my own since Alanna was about to transfer to tottenham too."

Footage switches to Alanna, in a Manchester City hoodie, sitting in her own living room.

"I felt weird, leaving my sister, we'd always been one for one, and this was the first time we'd properly been separated by ocean. She came with me to Orlando and before that, had stayed with our parents. We both got contracted for Sydney and just hadn't really separated after that. Though I was pretty chuffed to find out she was moving closer again, with my best friend at that."

Back to you in the backyard, Caitlin now sat beside you on an outdoor recliner.

"Surprised the hell out of me, getting that call from my manager, he was like, Y/n, I've got big news, Arsenal want you. I think I was so shocked I just laughed. I thought he was one crazy a****** for joking about that. What are the chances I get contracted by the exact same club as her within just weeks of each other. Surprised her too."

Caitlin puffs out a laugh.

"You didn't mention why though. Surprised because I just mopily walk into training, thinking about how to deal with the distance anxiety and just, in you walk, day thirteen of me being in London. 'Hey, sweetheart, how's your day been? Oh yeah by the way, I'm playing here now'."

"To be fair, It was meant to be a surprisez considering I basically had to schedule everything perfectly. Without Steph's help, because ya know, that would've been suspicious."

You lean your head on her shoulder, her hsnd comes up to run through your hair.

"Stephs face was pretty funny though, what are the chances three Aussies all get contracted within just weeks of each other. The older girls were all like 'what is jonas thinking?'. It's definitely been remarkable though, both of them are phenominal and they deserve every bit of everything we achieve with the gunners."

She looks down at you with a loving smile and you grin widely back up at her.

Footage of Steph and Caitlin's starting for Arsenal, standing in the lineup, your face new amongst the starters further down the line, right beside Leah Williamson.

"It was certainly something else. Being able to play with such big names at the time. Kim Little was one in particular that I'd been terrified of in that moment. How many times I'd seen Caitlin go head to head with her. Now I know her better though, she's just a big softy and she's got a soft spot for me, too."

Caitlin shakes her head.

"I think she means spoilt, this one can do no harm in the captains eyes. The baby of the team she likes to claim. Even though she's only like two years younger than me."

You protest.

"Twenty-three was pretty young, obviously not the youngest on the team, but it's not like I was pushing thirty already, jesus."

Caitlin gets an offended look on her face.

"Excuse you, thirty is not even that old. 'Pushing thirty already' you're twenty-six, thats not far from thirty thank you, also don't let Kimmy hear you say that."

You chuckle.

"Eh, she loves me. But you're closer to thirty than me so."

And you poke out your tongue at her. Your girlfriend just looks at the camera again.

"Bloody childish, what do I tell ya?"

You kiss her cheek, a small smirk on your lips.

"You love me."

---------

Video footage of the two of you making a huge passing play up the left side of the field, playing against England. The ball gets switched in a fast tikki taka motion as you both move up the line. You make a run for the box and it's like Caitlin doesn't even have to look for you as she sends the ball right to your head for you to sneak past Earps, who despite her best efforts, can't make contact with the ball.

Cut to you both walking through a forested walkway outside of the city. A long shot from the back, and then flicks to a full shot at the front as you both slowly walk down the concrete pathway.

"When she received her first call up to the team, she called me frantically, practically balling her eyes out."

"Balling my eyes out, I could hardly talk into the phone to get it out. Coach had called me when I was at home on my own, and Caitlin was in at the office."

"I stand by this, but you'd actually called me at the worst time too. I was sitting beside my coworkers on a mini break, one of them is a physio on the Arsenal team as well as one for where I work. All they hear coming from my phone is just incoherent blubbering, followed by "Babe! I GOT IN!" Of course, I wasn't following exactly what she meant and my dumb brain just went, in like, the ice bath?"

Your laughter rings out at that.

"That's what you thought I meant?"

Caitlin nods slowly, a small blush developing on her cheeks.

"That's just what we'd been talking about at the time, including how you in particular refused to touch the ice baths for the first six months, someone basically had to carry you in with them. So like, I was excited for you to finally have gotten over that fear on your own."

You push her slightly, a loving smile making it's way onto your lips.

"That's really sweet, but no I did that three months after that, when I finally decided to stop being a wuss, now that I was actually playing in the big big big league, I had to. But that's beside the point."

"Uhuh, sure sweets, anyway, when she finally started going into the phone call itself, it did finally click in my head because I never actually explicitly mentioned the ice bath either so we were both still pretty excited, but for different reasons."

"Yeah, I did not like her initial reaction at the time."

"I was still super confused why you were like full sobbing about it though. I was like 'okay, congrats baby, you did it, no big deal'. I think she was ready to hit me after that one."

"Mild understatement."

Caitlin chuckles, bringing your knuckles up to her lips.

"so when she brought up how amazing it felt to finally break onto the national team, I just was like 'Ohhhhh... oh.... OH, Congrats baby!'."

The footage cuts to your hands linked in the between you, her thumb gently caressing the skin there before cutting back to a mid shot of you both from the front as you giggle softly.

"I just kept thinking, what did she think I meant, what does she mean no big deal. Cocky woman. To think I wanted to marry her too. She did get super excited for me, though, after that. She's a little slow, but I love her."

You give her a shit eating grin as she glares at you.

"She's honestly such a little brat sometimes, can you believe this?"

You giggle softly, bumping hips with her.

"You love it."

---------

Footage of some of the afterparty in the locker room plays, Caitlin clearly in view sculling champagne out of the trophy.

"Back at the Cup of Nations. We were out celebrating in a VIP bar, and they'd given us free entry, the whole team, I mean. There were drinks being passed around every two minutes. I think we were just so ridiculously drunk after that. Steph was the only one not really drunk. "

"Well yeah, to be fair she was kind of... well."

You roll your eyes at the striker.

"She was injured, so she had to kind of not drink. Caitlin, the dumby, dropped her kitbag in the doorway, so when we drunkenly stumbled in, we kicked it out of the way. Out popped the engagement ring. Luckily, I didn't notice. But neither did Caitlin. Steph did though, pretty sure it was the first thing to catch her eye as she dropped us both off in the hotel room. She just picked it up, threw it back in the bag, and when we were both on the beds."

"Relatively."

"Somewhat. She took a photo of us, sent it to Caitlin, and said, "Congrats, don't let Lans see you propose." Not the message I was expecting to see that morning. I'd accidentally picked her phone up.-"

Cut to you sitting at the kitchen island in your house, Caitlin standing at the stove.

"You claim it was accidental, but we both know the truth, babe."

"It was! You left your phone right next to where I charge mine instead of on your own bloody bed side. Anyway! That was how I found out she wanted to propose. Because my lovely fiancee here couldn't put her stuff away. As always."

You give her a mildly playful, unimpressed look.

"Pfft, that was all drunk caitlin, I don't associate with that chick. She's an idiot."

You purse your lips.

"Clearly."

Caitlin stays stirring the pan for a second before turning around suddenly to your suppressed laughter.

"Hey!"

You let it out at that point, shoulders wracked with laughter, head on the bench. When you finally catch your breath, you look at her again, but she's turned back to the stove. What you can't see is the small smile on her lips, which the camera does.

"Love you."

She turns her head slightly to say something back.

"You better. Ya dork."

It's your turn to pout again.

"Hey!"

You gesture to your girlfriend in front of you, eyes in contact with the camera.

"See what I have to deal with? Won't even say it back, so mean."

She turns back to you with a small wink, smirk playing at her mouth.

"You love it."

---------

The image switches to you both sitting laying back on a lounge chair set up outside the back door, watching the summer sun go down in London.

"I'm so grateful we get to be together throughout this whole experience. She's the love of my life and she's an amazing football player too."

You smile up at her from your place leant against her chest. The camera pans around as you both share a quick kiss.

"I don't know, feels like you've got me beat. I feel like I don't tell you I love you enough."

Caitlin gives a quick glance to the camera lens.

"She does it every two hours and still says that."

You pout up at her. She pinches your cheek softly, kissing you on the forehead.

"You're lucky I love you."

Caitlin looks fully up at the camera this time.

"See?"

"Oh my god. Hush up"

"You love it."

"I love you."

She chuckles and you just shake your head and bring her in for a full kiss. Fade to black.

---------

#woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #caitlin foord imagine #caitlin foord imagines #caitlin foord x reader #caitlin foord #alanna kennedy

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infiniteeight8 · 2 months

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redone prompt

I skipped prompts on April 1 because I figured it would get lost amongst The Boopening. (And also I was chasing the 1000 boop badge. lol.)

Today’s prompt is a post instead of an Ask reply because I decided to rewrite the prompt that I answered and then deleted on March 31. I’m glad I did! I like this version much, much better than the other one.

The prompt:

@mystical-magician asked:

Ironstrange prompt: arranged marriage. Maybe with royalty au, maybe magical shenanigans, maybe it's canon background? Maybe something else completely.

Tony leads his new husband to the suite of rooms that has been prepared for them. He wishes he could follow, instead; the back of his neck is prickling like crazy, and the words of the negotiators who hammered out the marriage contract are echoing in his ears: The negotiations were too easy. They hardly asked for anything. They must want something else. Be wary of your new husband.

Tradition forbids armed guards on the marriage night. It will be only the third time in Tony’s life that he’s been outside the reach of his guards. It’s the perfect opportunity for Stephen Strange to murder him, if that’s what Kamar-Taj wants.

But when the suite doors close behind Strange, all he does is pull off the elaborate headdress his traditions call for and drop it and the heavy marriage robe on the floor, leaving him in a much lighter, royal blue tunic. “Thank the Vishanti,” he groans, taking a seat on one of the low settees in the suite’s receiving room. “Whoever made those so heavy when they have to be worn from dawn until dusk is a cruel man.”

Tony is left dumbstruck for the first time he can remember. Strange looks up at him and takes on a sheepish expression. “I apologize, I know no one has explained anything to you. The Elders couldn’t decide whether or not it was permitted prior to the marriage, and ultimately they decided to err on the conservative side. But I can explain now.” He gestures to the other settee, placed perpendicular to the one he’d claimed.

After a moment, Tony shrugs out of his own marriage robe and sits. “The negotiators did suspect something else was going on,” he says. “I take it they were right.”

“Yes, but nothing political.”

“I’m a prince and you’re The Ancient One’s prize protege,” Tony says dryly. “It’s political by definition.”

Strange snorts a little. “For you, maybe. Not for Kamar-Taj. We didn’t need any of the things we asked for in the negotiation. It just seemed like the done thing.”

Tony frowns. “Then what did you want?”

Strange looks slightly… embarrassed? “When a Sorcerer of Kamar-Taj attains the rank of Master, a spell is performed. It reveals their most ideal romantic partner. You’re mine.”

“Your most ideal romantic partner,” Tony repeats, staring. Strange nods. “This is… a love match?”

“Well, not yet,” Strange says, blushing slightly. “But unless something goes very wrong—and it can, this isn’t a guarantee—it will be.”

Tony can’t help it: he laughs so hard actual tears start leaking out of his eyes. Every time he thinks he’s going to stop, he looks up at Stephen’s bemused expression and starts laughing again. Eventually, he sucks in enough breath to gasp out, “They thought— They warned me you might— might try to kill me.”

After one gobsmacked moment, that sets Stephen laughing, too.

Not a bad way to start a marriage.

#IronStrange #ficlet

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physalian · 21 days

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When a Villain’s “Villainy” Dismisses Their Valid Argument For Change (Or, Marvel)

Marvel stories aren’t the only ones that pull the whole “this villain has a very valid and justified stance on something socially acceptable but actually terrible and- oh, nvm, they’re a murderer, thus they’re totally bad,” schtick, but they’re the loudest voices.

Pop Culture Detective did this deep dive into how the “Avengers” really are “Avengers” (as opposed to “Prevengers,” like Tony points out) because they don’t have any initiatives or social stances that promote change, they just stop villains from making change. Most damning example of this character is Killmonger.

Excellent deep dive, go watch it. I won’t regurgitate it here. Instead, I’ll talk about how these villains are also attempts at having depth and nuance and are very hit-and-miss about it.

So. Villains with nuance: How to write a character with something to say, while showing that their way of going about it is wrong, while also still agreeing that they were right.

—

This isn’t actually that hard, y’all. Marvel doesn’t do it because they don’t want to piss off the rich people or be “woke”.

So say I have my antagonist named…. Wilson.

Wilson’s goal: prison reform/dismantling the for-profit punitive “justice” system that works to keep people in the system instead of helpful rehab.

Wilson’s motivation: that his dad got incarcerated for possession of drugs, and through a series of Very Bad and Corrupt Legal Practices, Wilson’s dad spent 45 years in prison and died there.

Wilson’s plan: peacefully protest, then when that doesn't work and he's exhausted all other legal avenues, systematically blackmail every cop, justice, and prison employee that he deems corrupt, racist, etc, on the grounds of either “just following orders” or “that’s how it was” isn’t good enough in effort to get them fired/ruin their lives. Doesn’t matter how involved in his dad’s incarceration these people are, Wilson wants to make a statement, and he’s going to make it as loud as possible.

Enter the hero: Sarah.

She’s the seasoned detective trying to catch him because crime is crime and he’s done a lot of it.

Marvel’s hypothetical version of this story: Wilson joins and organizes several peaceful protests and marches and nonviolent gatherings, gathering a vocal following that’s concerning to local, then national, government officials when he gains more power than they’re comfortable with. Around halfway through the story, Wilson breaks and starts randomly murdering these same people just so the audience doesn’t start to root for him.

Marvel’s solution: Wilson ends up in prison, or dead from a high and ambiguous fall, due to his own actions because murder is bad and he’s done a lot of it. Prison reform, what?

Or: Wilson ends up in prison because he still committed violence against a lot of innocent people and the punishments he enacted didn’t fit their crimes. The populace remains horrified by his actions, mourn the corrupt government people, and claim this is exactly why the prison system is the way it is. Sarah, however, understands that Wilson was right, and works for the rest of her career on enacting prison reform.

You know, Zootopia did this pretty well, for a kids’ movie, by having Judy publicly admit that what they’re doing is wrong and try to change it, while also simultaneously botching it entirely.

Ironically, Marvel does have a property that tries its damndest to do the “villain actually has a point, he’s just going about proving it the wrong way” and that’s X-Men. Their best efforts aren’t the ‘ha ha CGI explosion of cool mutant powers’ but the social commentary these characters were meant to reflect.

You can write a villain with a point. But if you’re going to go far enough to make a polarizing statement in your work, knowing it will piss people off, commit to that message and don’t abandon it the second you’ve made them “irredeemable”.

That, and, like Zootopia, it gives your hero so much more nuance when they can admit their staunch, heroic worldview is flawed and needs growth, or complete dismantling, and that hard life lessons can come from anywhere, not just their heroes—particularly when they themselves are an archetypical “hero”. (also killing this complicated villain instead of giving them the chance to see the proper enactment of the change they want to see in the world is a huge missed opportunity).

Not limited to superhero stories, either, or hot button issues like prison reform. Do it in fantasy with fantasy bigotry. It doesn’t have to be a huge global plot either. “Critical voice is painted as the villain and resorts to unsavory-to-illegal activity to stay alive and/or promote their cause” also fits plenty of war stories big and small.

Heck, go even smaller, with lower stakes, and you could write about a high school bully victim who goes too far in trying to get justice/catharsis when the law doesn’t do enough about it. Write about a dysfunctional family. This trope is so flexible it’s disappointing how rarely it’s done well.

Whatever the case:

Make a problem in the world of your story that the society/powers that be of that story doesn’t actually think is a problem, or isn’t doing enough to solve

Make solving this problem the villain’s goal

Make the villain’s plan to solving this problem deeply flawed and the wrong way to do it

Make the hero (and the narrative) recognize that their intentions are in the right place, the actions aren’t, but the villain’s plight was heard, and the hero, presumably with the social and political power to enact real change, resolves to make that change.

The villain loses, but they also still win.

I am sick and tired of throwing the whole character out and trying to eat your cake and have it, too, pretending to have a deep and nuanced narrative that ends up saying nothing more than “crime is always wrong no matter the circumstances if the governing bodies aren’t paying you to commit those crimes.”

I’m not a huge fan of Black Panther (I think by that point my Marvel fatigue on all these new characters was starting to creep in), but they really did Killmonger dirty, didn’t they?

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #character design #character development #writing villains #heroes and villains #marvel #erik killmonger

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