He Wants Me So Bad (he’s Fictional And I Read A Fanfic About Him)

Bucky has a nightmare and wants cuddles with reader 🥺

The Wrong I Did

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky has a nightmare and needs you for comfort.

Warnings: Bucky has a nightmare so minor angst, Bucky needs cuddles and of course you’re there for him

Author’s Notes: Thank you so much for sending me this request! I really hope you like it! ❤️ Thank you to my wonderful friend @becca-e-barnes for the supportive words and encouragement to post my stuff once again because your enthusiasm makes me so happy and excited to even do this!!!!🥺

Word count: 1,270

Bucky was gasping for air when his nightmare jolted him awake in the middle of the night. The sweat that was gathered on his forehead steadily dripped down his face and into the sheets that were bunched around his waist. It’s the same nightmare every night, it plagues his mind every time he closes his eyes and tries to find rest.

For a long time, Bucky had nobody to talk to through the night. Before you and him became friends, he would sit in his armchair and read a book, just to use something as a distraction. It was always the same until one night when he stumbled into the kitchen anxiously and saw you on one of the footstools sipping some tea. You offered to make some for him, he accepted and you’ve been there for him ever since.

Bucky just didn’t like coming to you and ruining your good night sleep though. You shouldn’t have to stay up late just because he needs you, though you disagreed strongly with him about that and told Friday to wake you if any distress sounds were coming from his room.

Friday kept her promise, alerting you that Bucky was awake and his breathing was worrying. You wasted no time getting out of bed and heading towards his room in the dark, knowing the journey by heart. You spend so much time in his room you often joke about just moving in with him, something he laughs off but has considered. There was something about you that was an instant calm for him, you kept him grounded and here. Something not even Steve could do.

You didn’t knock when you got to his room, knowing it would be unlocked just in case you needed him too. You never told him, but you always needed him. Bucky became that friend that you needed to be around 24/7, you needed his company, his cuddles, his forehead kisses. He loved to shower you in compliments and make you feel special, and with him you always felt special.

“Bucky?” Your voice was above a whisper as you entered his room, the curtains were opened and Bucky was slouched on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. From the moonlight that poured in, you could see his back was covered in a sheen of sweat, and his sheets were twisted and torn all over the place. He had clearly been suffering here alone for quite a few hours.

“Hey Buck.” You said again, keeping your footsteps quiet as you joined him on the edge of the bed. The closer you got to him, the more clearly you could hear his whimpers and sobs. It broke your heart because all you wanted to do was fix him, and allow him one night to sleep without the nightmares invading his mind.

Gently putting your hand on his back, you started to rub in a soothing manner. You shushed him and told him everything was going to be okay, you were here and he’s safe.

After what felt like hours, he finally took some deep breaths. Wiping his eyes with his palms and wiping the excess tears and sweat into his pyjama bottoms. He turned to look at you, an embarrassed smile on his face as he sighed.

“I’m sorry Friday woke you.” He said, his voice croaky from crying and tiredness. You clicked your tongue, still rubbing his back.

“I’m not sorry. I’d rather be here with you always so you’re not alone.”

“I know doll, I just didn’t want to disturb you. I’ve done that enough this week.” He sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

“I don’t care about sleep, Buck. I care about you and I care about your well-being. Listen, why don’t you take a shower and I’ll change the sheets?” You offered, taking his hand in yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze to let him know you didn’t mind and you didn’t, Bucky needed you and you had no intentions on leaving him.

“Will–will you still be here? I kind of want to cuddle if–if you’re comfortable.”He asked nervously, dreading spending a few more hours alone and having more nightmares coming back for him.

“Of course! Hey, I don’t plan on leaving you. I’ll just change the sheets and I’ll stay for as long as you need. I don’t know if I snore, that’s the only thing.” That made him chuckle lightly, pride and joy beaming within you that you managed to make him smile. Bucky shook his head and bit his lip.

“Alright. But if you’re gone when I get back I’m coming to your room and dragging you back here.” He teases, grateful that the tension in the room was slowly but surely disappearing.

As you promised, you were still in the room when he emerged from his bathroom in a shirt and clean boxers. Clean bedding was neatly made on the bed and the curtains had been closed again.

“You stayed.” He said, almost in a whimper. Droplets of water dripped from the strands of his hair onto his broad shoulders. You patted his usual side of the bed and pulled the duvet covers back for him to get under. He sighed as the clean sheets felt fresh against his sweat-free and clean body. You waited for him to lay on his back and get comfortable before snuggling in and resting your head on his shoulder, your arm over his stomach.

“I don’t know who made you a promise that they would stay and didn’t, but I promise I’ll never leave you need me.” You whispered in the dark, your fingers circling on his stomach over his shirt.

“What if I always need you?” You almost missed the words he said them so quietly, you were sure he could hear your heart racing in your chest.

“Then I’ll always stay.”

—

Bucky didn’t remember the last time he slept so soundly. But he woke up the next morning with your legs tangled up and your face buried in his neck. The sunlight was just barely peeping through the joining of the curtains. He turned to check the time, surprised it read 8:00am. He would usually stay awake through the night after a particularly bad nightmare like last night. With your body so close to him, sleep found him quickly and it was as if you were holding some kind of protection because he dreamed only of good things. His nightmare didn’t return like he had suspected it might. He was embarrassed enough when he cried in front of you last night.

You stirred awake, sighing into his neck and stretching your limbs.

“Good mornin’.” You croaked with a smile, breathing in his wonderful and intoxicating scent.

“Good morning, doll. Did you sleep okay?” If you hadn’t, he wouldn’t have known.

“Oh I did! So, so good! How about you?”

“I slept incredibly well. I had a great dream.” He smiled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You pressed a gentle and light-feathered kiss on his chest. “I feel like you need to stay with me every night because it seems you might keep the nightmares away.” He chuckled lightly and sighing. His adam’s apple bobbing as he stared up at the ceiling.

“I told you before, if you wanna be roomies we can be!”

“I do want to be. Roomies I mean.” He kissed your forehead, and you snuggled in closer to him.

“Me too, I like your company.” You smiled. “Now come on, get up, I wanna get breakfast!”

Dating the Amazing Spider-Man would include...

When he tells you that he’s Spider-Man, it’s a shock, sure, but not something you’d run away or hide from. He’s glad to have told you, he always hated hiding it from you and lying. After he told you and explained things, he promised that he’d never hide anything else from you.

You worry about him a lot. You’ve seen him when he returns from a fight all battered and bruised so naturally, you worry about whether or not the next fight will be the last one. Peter tries to ease your worries by texting and calling as much as he can when out on patrol to ease some of those worries.

Text from Peter: Hey! I’m okay, currently sitting on the top of the Empire State building. I’m being careful I promise. Since I had to leave before we could watch the end of the movie, how about I swing by and pick up your favourite meal from the pizza place in Brooklyn? Would that make it up to you? I love you!

He sends you selfies from the most ridiculous and terrifying heights which make you laugh but also scare you a little bit.

He’s protective of you, sure, but he’s terrified that you might end up getting hurt because of him. It actually nearly broke the two of you up earlier in the relationship because your safety was compromised and he blamed himself. You never once blamed him and forgave him instantly but you’ve had to teach him about forgiving himself. He carries the weight of the world on those broad shoulders of his so it’s reminding him that you’re a team and reminding him that it’s okay to move on and forgive himself.

“I’d rather die than have you get hurt, (y/n)! I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if someone else got hurt because of me!”

The first time he takes you for a swing across New York, you’re terrified because first you think you’re going to be too heavy for him to carry and two, you’re terrified of the prospect. He reassures you that he can carry you, he’s super strong remember?, and he promises he won’t drop you. You cling to him the entire time, barely opening your eyes to look, but you survive! He reassures you the entire time, telling you that he’s got you and he’ll keep you safe and he does exactly that.

Aunt May just adores you. She sees your kindness and she can see just by looking at him how much Peter loves you. Whenever she’s inviting Peter to come round, you always get an invite too. Peter jokes that Aunt May likes you more than she likes him.

Aunt May enjoys gossiping with you, telling you about what Peter was like as a little boy, telling you all of the embarrassing stories.

She also pulls Peter aside at one point and whispers, “Your Uncle Ben would’ve loved (y/n). Your parents would love them as well.”

He’s spontaneous and will whisk you away for a swing through New York and a picnic atop a building in the middle of the city. He’ll drop by your work during your lunch break and will take you to enjoy your lunch somewhere with a better view than your work’s staff room.

The two of you have so much fun together. He’s your best friend and that means that you can authentically be your silliest selves around the other without a care or without judgement. You dance around the kitchen singing your Elvis impressions full pelt, you play hide and seek in pretty much every large department store you visit because why not? There’s just so much laughter in your relationship with Peter and you adore it.

Peter isn’t afraid to show you his sensitive side or his vulnerable side. There’s been a lot of times where he’s had nightmares about his parents or Uncle Ben or about the horrors of villains he’d fought and you’re the one who consoles him, wrapping him in blankets and giving him tea and temple kisses. He puts himself under a lot of stress and it’s you that helps him unpack all of that trauma.

Sometimes, particularly when he’s having those nightmares or going through a rough patch, you need to remind him to take care of himself. You’re the one who makes the meals and almost forces the plate into his hand to eat it instead of eating processed junk. You’re the one who gets in the shower with him, scrubbing the grime, dirt and blood of him, washing his hair and leaving little kisses on his collarbone. You’re the one who always packs a water bottle and snacks in his backpack for when he’s going out on patrol just so you know that he’s got something to eat and drink.

He leaves notes for you everywhere. Notes on scrap pieces of paper, written in the corners of the newspapers, scribbled at the bottom of your notebook. Little notes to remind you how much he cares and how much he loves you.

Scribbled on a receipt and shoved in your book you were currently reading was a note that said, ‘When you read this I hope you smile, I love your smile.

Stuck on your phone after he came home late one night was, ‘You look freaking adorable when you sleep. You’re snoring and it’s the cutest sound possible. Don’t ever apologise for being you.’

His computer background and phone background are photos of you. The one on his phone is a candid photo of you laughing that you hate but he loves because he loves that smile of yours. His computer background is a photo of the two of you at one of your family members weddings. 

Peter always kind of knew that he wanted to marry you. After one and a half years of dating, Aunt May gives Peter his mother’s old engagement ring. It’s simple but beautiful and it holds a lot of meaning. Peter carries it with him, he’s not sure when he’ll ask you but he carries it with him every single day just waiting for the right moment.

Peter always know what to say to make you weak at the knees. It’s like he has a bank of the most beautiful things to say to make you giggle and blush like a teenager.

He loves to kiss you. He kisses you everywhere; forehead, temple, nose, wrists, knuckles, shoulder, neck, tummy, lips… Given half the chance, he’d kiss you all day every day. He just loves to kiss you.

He smells like coffee, chocolate and woodsy. He usually drinks coffee constantly to keep awake during the long nights, the chocolate is usually a snack from his backpack that you’ve packed and the woodsy scent is from how much he’s outdoors and in about nature.

He’s not afraid to show people that he loves you. He’s always holding your hand or hugging you or proclaiming his love to you in the middle of the street. If it made you uncomfortable, he would stop but he would literally serenade you (and he has done in the past after a few too many drinks).

He’s very chill, he’s very low pressure so if you’re not feeling up to doing something, he doesn’t mind. He wants you to be comfortable so however he can help and whatever he can do to make you comfortable, he’ll do it. He doesn’t make you feel bad for it either.

Peter celebrates every single win with you no matter how big or small. He’s so proud of you and just wants you to know that so even if it’s something simple like you managed to figure out something in work or you managed to nail the recipe for those cookies that you’d been trying to perfect all week, he’ll celebrate and be so proud of you.

After a hard fight, you’re the one that patches him up, helps him shower and gives him a massage. You’ll tend to him and his wounds and make sure that he’s okay physically and mentally.

He makes you feel like the sexiest and most beautiful person alive. He could compliment you for hours as he looks into your eyes. He kisses you with so much passion that it makes you forget about everything. He worships you and your body, kissing you everywhere. He would spend hours making you feel good, making you orgasm over and over before he even thought about pleasuring himself. Sometimes, maybe after a hard fight, he’s rougher and more desperate, skipping the foreplay and just desperate to feel you. Most often though, he takes his time, teasing you and praising you. He makes you feel so unbelievably good, better than you ever thought you could feel.

“You’re doing so good.” “You feel so good.” “Where do you want me to touch you now, princess?” 

You’ve totally had sex whilst he’s wearing the Spider-Man costume/hood at least once. Hell, maybe you’ve even worn it too.

He’s taller than you so the height difference when hugging him standing up is just *chefs kiss*. It also means that he can reach for the stuff you can’t get because you’re too short.

He has so many nicknames for you. He makes a new nickname or pet name up every day pretty much. Some are funny, some are cute and some can never hear the light of day again.

You sleep wrapped around each other, cuddled right into each other’s skin. He loves sleeping with your head on his chest, it makes him feel like he’s protecting you and keeping you safe. He also enjoys being the little spoon. He’s versatile.

You want to steal his clothes but he’s a pretty lean dude so what he does is he buys sweatshirts in a larger size and wears them before gifting them to you so not only are they size appropriate for you, they also smell just like him. He never once judges you for your size or shape or weight, in fact he praises you.

Okay but Loki helping the reader with their self esteem is something I need

self-esteem was something you had always struggled with

it didn’t matter how many tricks you tried, how much time you spent convincing yourself that you were better than your mind was making you believe

you just couldn’t seem to get yourself to budge on the matter

and most of the times, you could deal with it

with self-deprecating humor and bad jokes

but sometimes things got to be a little much

and it would just weigh a little bit too heavily on you

and you’d get a little down about

just sort of keep to yourself, not want to talk to anyone

Loki knew it was something you struggled with

and was always willing to sit with you and talk you down

and just be there for you until you were feeling a little better

Loki would always, without fail, have a pep talk ready for you

after making sure you were bundled up nice and warm in a blanket

with your favorite warm drink

and your favorite snack

“I understand you’re feeling a little self-conscious right now, and really don’t want to have the focus on yourself, and that’s okay. That is completely alright. I’ll keep it short and sweet, and then we’ll watch dumb cat videos. The only catch is that you have to listen and not disagree, alright?”

and you look at them a little suspiciously, unsure what they’re going to say

but nod

mostly because you know Loki won’t let the matter just go away

and Loki nods, as well

“I think you’re a wonderful person. I think you’re funny, and smart, and so very, very brave. You don’t give yourself enough credit for everything you’ve been through, for everything that you’re willing to do. You’re strong. You’re an asset to this team, and everyone loves having you here. You are worth so much more than you believe, and if I have to tell you that every day, I will if it means you might start to believe it. I’ll leave it at that, for now, but just know that I love and care for you, a lot. We all do.”

and you’d already been on the verge of tears

and this certainly didn’t help matters

and you end up sniffling

and rubbing at your eyes with a fist

and when you speak, it’s in a quiet little voice

“Thanks, Loki… That really means a lot.”

and Loki can tell you just need a hug

so they go to sit next to you

and just wrap you up in a warm hug

“Anytime, Y/N.”

you never make it to the cat videos

but that’s okay

because you’re actually feeling okay and happy and warm

and that is far more important

Ready to Comply: The Google Translate Soldier

Who here doesn’t like some good old Winter Soldier angst? Raise your hands. Now leave, this post is not for you.

Just kidding. Stay if you want. But be warned: it may get a teeny bit angsty.

Okay, so, we all know The Phrase. We’ve had this phrase destroy our souls again and again, in the canon, in fanfiction, in our unruly daydreams about the beauty and tragedy of a certain brainwashed supersoldier.

Oh god. The feels. But on we go.

I want desperately to use this phrase in my fics for obvious angst purposes, but here’s the thing: I’m a native Russian speaker and a professional translator, and the Russian version of the phrase from the movie is cutting my heart into tiny miserable pieces every time I think about it. (Which is, admittedly, A LOT.)

So, what is wrong with it?

In Captain America: Civil War, we hear Bucky say in an accent heavier than his metal arm, “я готов отвечать” [“ya gotov otvechat’”], after being put into the mindless killer machine mode by a bunch of horribly mangled Russian words and phrases. According to the subtitles, it means “ready to comply.”

Except that it doesn’t. The Russian verb “отвечать” [“otvechat’”] has a range of meanings, from “to reply” to “to account for” and so on. The only context in which it can correspond to the English verb “to comply” is when talking about a gas pipe complying with safety requirements or a rant post complying with Tumblr community guidelines.

So, “я готов отвечать” can mean something like “I’m ready to answer [your questions]” or “I’m ready to assume responsibility [for something],” turning the scene into some kind of an interrogation or an investigation, while we all know that it’s neither.

There’s another version, straight from our dear Google Translate.

(I love Google Translate so much. It always proves that the need for human translators will never cease.)

What’s wrong with this one? Well, “я готов подчиниться” [“ya gotov podchinit’sya”] is much better in terms of word choice. The Russian verb “подчиниться” [“podchinit’sya”] does, indeed, mean “to obey, to submit, to surrender” and so on. The problem is with the verb form.

Verbs in Russian have two aspects: the perfective aspect, which indicates a one-time action, and the imperfective aspect, which points to a more ongoing kind of thing. Unaware of the context, Google Translate uses the perfective aspect, which turns the phrase into “I’m ready to comply, but only just this once, don’t bother me after that.”

The proper form would be “подчиняться” [“podchinyat’sya”] instead of “подчиниться” [“podchinit’sya”] (yes, it’s a one letter difference, but see how huge it is?). The whole phrase would then be “я готов подчиняться” [“ya gotov podchinyat’sya”], which might even pass for an adequate translation.

But there’s one more thing.

The English phrase doesn’t have a first-person pronoun. In fact, it doesn’t have any pronoun at all. It doesn’t indicate the speaker in any way, because the one saying it isn’t supposed to be a person. The ‘who’ here isn’t important. What is important, is that whoever (or whatever) it is, is ready.

Here, have a tissue.

The Russian phrase, however, begins with “Я” [“Ya”], which means, unsurprisingly, “I” and is not syntactically mandatory in this case. Just like in English.

Moreover, it doesn’t figure much in standard military expressions. Why waste precious army time on such meaningless things as personal pronouns? Again, there are no persons here. Only soldiers.

My personal favorite for rendering “ready to comply” in Russian is “готов служить” [“gotov sluzhit’”], which means “ready to serve” as in “to serve one’s country.” Or one’s captors. Take your pick.

Oh wait, you’re not allowed to choose. Sorry.

The pros for this version are: it’s a standard phrase that indicates one’s willingness to obey and submit and is primarily used in the military context. Moreover, it’s a standard Russian phrase, and seeing Bucky utter it like some common Soviet private would be so much more heartbreaking. (Yes, even more.)

The cons are: it’s a standard phrase. As far as I understand, “ready to comply” isn’t standard military lingo, so maybe the Russian version should reflect that as well. Or maybe I’m overthinking it.

In conclusion? Marvel couldn’t splurge on an actual Russian speaker to proofread a couple of sentences, and now I’m forever torn between wanting a phrase that sounds like idiomatic Russian instead of machine translation and wanting to make a recognizable fandom reference.

Fandom life is hard, people.

what it's like to sleep with...loki 🛏

On another episode of what's it like to sleep with... I bring you all Loki. Remember you can send in asks or comment requesting who you want to see next! If it's not MCU related I'll have to of course know the character bc otherwise i do not know their personality but they are certainly not off the table!!

Since the god doesn't require many hours of sleep, it should be practically what it's like to sleep with...you.

You know how you're supposed to stay still when a cat lays on you? It's practically law, you cannot move until the cat decides to leave. Well that's how Loki is when you fall asleep on him.

Whatever duties or plans he had, cancelled. He must not move a single limb until you get off and that could be ten minutes, six hours or more.

You were a heavy sleeper wether asgardian or human. You tangled over his entire body, arms over his torso, hands on his chest, legs wrapped with his, or hist a whole entire body pillow on top.

The first time you fell asleep on him, he didn't know how to react. He looked down at you and was ready to ask what the hell you were doing due to not being used to people....i guess....liking him. Often times people were scared of him or hated him so you actually not just liking being around him but being this close? Loki most certainly treasured that.

Not a single noise could be made while you were asleep. If Thor walked past being loud as per usual or any other person, Loki immediately shushed them or used a casting spell to get them to shut up. He stared at Thor with a threatening look on his eyes and his brother walked out on his tiptoes.

In the case that you were a light sleeper, Loki played a white noise in your ears. Wether it be the ocean or any other sort. In this case Loki knew he had to be extra more careful to not wake you under ANY circumstance.

He built up the courage to start petting your hair. At first he was wary since you moved in your sleep that he was bothering you so he froze. "keep doing that" you mumbled and moved your head on his chest. Loki smiled and his chest let go of the worried breath he was holding in before continuing to trace his fingers through your hair.

You have your tricks as well to help him sleep. Especially when nights are hard and he seems to be tormented by thoughts. Laying on top of a couple of pillows in bed or against the walls of the library in the castle with his head on your lap, you trace his hair, his curls in between your long fingers.

Sometimes a good book can be of good use and with a soft voice your words put him to sleep. You smile to yourself and continue to read out loud despite him being profoundly asleep between your arms.

"Come to bed Loki" you pout when he's been busy all day. His throne duties seem to go off schedule sometimes and sleep is not the biggest of his concerns but he knows some nights he needs to rest. He easily gives in and shoos the guards so he can get in bed alongside you.

If you're a night kicker, meaning you move a lot in bed. LIKE A LOT. Loki will either cast a spell for you to stay still or hold on whatever limb before it lands on him.

One night he woke up on the floor. He was completely confused as how he landed on the ground when just a few minutes before the two of you were cuddling lovingly. When he got up from the floor he understood you had taken over the entirety of the king sized mattress.

It was fine the first time. You were actually quite embarrassed but Loki reassured it was fine.

Until it was not. This was the 50th time on a row he landed on the floor with no previous warning.

"My darling, move over" he whispers. "Psst, my dear, it's still my bed may I remind you" "Mmnn but you never sleep on it" you mumble in your sleep. The god held your body carefully and pushed you to your side of the bed and lied back on his side.

From that night forward he casted a spell so you would remain still, or at least move in your portion of the bed.

Just alike you're a cat he most absolutely is one as well. perhaps the reason your relationship took off.

If he falls asleep on you, you cannot move until he's off your lap. It's a law.

A/N : I will be honest i went off the rails and based off a personal dream but hey, this is how i see him?? and he;s still a sleepless 3 hours a year fucker so kjfnfkjgn but about reader personally 😂 i tried though to write for all sorts of sleepers.

If you enjoyed reading, reblog!! Feedback is appreciated as well!!!

well i guess it’s just me and my overwhelming attraction to fictional women with swords against the world i guess :/

another world [1]

after your boyfriend, peter parker, is killed by the green goblin, you take on the mantel of spiderwoman. a few years later, you're suddenly shoved into a multi-versal war after being called to another universe to help a (smaller) version of peter. a familiar face leaves you shaken.

[2] [3]

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x reader

CONTENT: NO WAY HOME SPOILERS!!!!!, mentions of suicide, angst angst angst angst, may parker deserves so much better and i apologize for putting her through this

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

──────────────────────

──────────────────────

Here lies Peter Parker. Beloved son.

We shall meet again.

[Y/N] stands over his grave. There's a chill in the air, autumn has finally taken New York. She shivers, her coat a few sizes too big, and two hands make their way to her lapel to tuck the girl in tighter. May Parker let's out a sigh.

"We've got to get you a thicker coat," May says. There's a tired look in her eyes. The lines on her face seem deeper. She's pushing on fifty-two now. The grief has aged her far more. "You're going to freeze when December hits."

"This one was his, May," [Y/N] replies. The words make May take a temporary pause. "I can't just find a new one."

Wind sends the leaves skittering along the graves. The red and brown contrast greatly to the pure white bouquet of cleomes sat on the headstone. Spider flowers, [Y/N] thinks with a small smile. He'd appreciate the irony.

"I think Peter would rather you be warm and cozy in your own well-fitting coat than freezing to death in one of his old, worn, baggy ones," May eventually responded. [Y/N] wrapped her hands around her body, subconsciously pulling the coat even closer. She could still pretend it smelled like him if she tried hard enough. The warm scent of cinnamon with hints of oak and amber. The smell of home.

The older woman gave her a sad smile and comfortingly rubbed her back. "But, I understand. It's hard to let go of it when you can imagine it's him. You wouldn't believe how many of Ben's old flannels are still folded up in my dresser."

Quiet crept in again. [Y/N] could still remember Ben Parker's death, how Peter shut down, how May crumbled. How could that have been nearly eight years ago? May still had her days of darkness, when the grief became too much. She had lost a husband and a son. [Y/N] had watched this woman quite literally go through every mother's nightmare. How did she get out of bed? How did she go to work? How was she still breathing?

"How do you do it?" [Y/N] broke the silence, unable to hold her thoughts back any longer. "It's been three years, May, and I still wake up expecting him to be next to me. I still wait for a call, a text, letting me know he's going to be late to dinner again this week because he's gotten caught up with some robbery downtown. I come home from work and I wait. I wait for Peter to walk in with Chinese takeout, give me a kiss that takes my breath away, and sit down to explain his latest gadget idea to me. I look at the door and I wait. I wait it for to open and it never does."

A sob falls from her lips. Tears are streaming down her face openly now, though [Y/N] can't remember when they started. May embraces her, tightly, as if she's keeping the girl in one piece. They fall together as [Y/N]'s knees give in from the weight of it all. The ground is cold. The grass is dead. Peter's headstone has collected enough dirt to look beige. There is no sign of life, no sign of who he was. All of it is dull. It makes the sobs wrack through her body even harder.

The two women sit there for quite some time. May cradles [Y/N] in her arms, whispering soothing words in her ear as the waves of sorrow slowly become smaller and smaller. There's been a quiet understanding between them ever since Peter's passing. They were family now. Neither would ever grieve alone. Neither would ever be alone. This was not the first time May Parker had held her son's partner in her arms as she grieved the loss of her love, and it would not be the last.

"You won't believe me, but it does get easier," May speaks while gently petting the girl's hair. Her breath had finally evened out, she was fresh out of tears. "It took me almost three years to come to terms with Ben's passing. I'm still learning to live without him. Healing is not linear, darling. I know it seems like this is never ending, but you will make it through this. We'll both make it through this, together, hand in hand. I am never leaving you and you're sure as hell not leaving me on my watch."

[Y/N] let out a shaky laugh, pulling back from May to look level with her. There were a few tear streaks down the older woman's face and [Y/N] felt a pang of guilt. She hated upsetting May or making her worry even more than she already did. May gently pushed the hair out of her face and [Y/N] took her hand.

"I'm not going anywhere, May," [Y/N] replied, placing a gentle kiss on the older woman's knuckle. "I'd miss your meatloaf too much."

May snorted, standing up and helping [Y/N] off the ground. "Now, there is no point in lying to me to butter me up," She joked, brushing the grass and dirt off the girl's coat. "Why don't you come back to the house for a bit? I'll make some tea. We could finally take a crack at that pumpkin bread recipe you've been talking about."

As if on cue, the shrill screech of a police siren broke May's created facade of a peaceful night. The women shared a look, [Y/N]'s full of remorse while May's held sorrow.

"Duty calls." [Y/N] sighed. She really did want to try that pumpkin bread recipe.

There was a beat. May opened her mouth and closed it again, trying to find the right words to say. She didn't have to. [Y/N] already knew.

"I know, May," The girl spoke up. "He wouldn't want this for me, and you're right, but he also wouldn't want New York to be completely on its own. This city needs a hero, a symbol of hope. It's selfish, but this is for me too. Makes me feel like I'm carrying on his legacy, I guess. As long as there's a Spider, there's still a piece of Peter around."

It had been hard informing May of the double life Peter had been living after he passed, but what else could [Y/N] have told her? "Ah yes, your son died in a very tragic car accident and that's why his spine was shattered into pieces and I was left completely unharmed although I was also at the scene." Lying to May after losing him just felt wrong.

So [Y/N] told her everything, about Spiderman, about the Green Goblin and the Osborns. And a few months later, when [Y/N] decided to take her late boyfriend's place and protect New York, the first thing she did was tell May. May, of course, pleaded with the girl not to go any further with the idea of Spiderwoman, but [Y/N] had her mind set. She was going to protect New York, not only for her home state's sake, but for Peter's memory as well.

May sighed. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop [Y/N] and there was no point in wasting both of their time. She'd been trying to put an end to this for two years now, but the girl was stubborn. Peter had called it "overly ambitious". May couldn't help but think that Ben could've put an end to this somehow, but it was just her now. She'd find a way eventually.

"If you need anything," May finally spoke. "I'll be home all night. I don't have night rounds at the hospital for the rest of this week. You stop by, no matter how late, okay? Peter's old bed is always there for you."

[Y/N] felt a pang in her chest at the mention of Peter's childhood bedroom. She'd spent at least four months after his death practically rotting away in his bed. There were so many memories from their teenage years in that room. She didn't know if she could face them again without deteriorating.

"Thanks, May," [Y/N] gave her a small smile. "I'll shoot you a text if I decide to stop by. In the meantime, pamper yourself. You work too hard."

The women shared a hug, May giving the girl a warm kiss on the cheek before they finally parted ways. [Y/N] watched May make her way out of the graveyard before leaning down to Peter's headstone. She gently sat her forehead against the stone and closed her eyes.

"I really, really hope you're proud of me."

──────────────────────

It was late. She'd been out for hours now, patrolling around the entire state of New York. Stopped a few break-ins, prevented some drug deals, the usual crime scene. It had been quiet ever since Norman Osborn's death. His passing was sudden, an apparent suicide. The news had sent [Y/N] into a fit of rage.

"That coward took the easy way out. After everything he's done, after Peter, it's over because of a fucking self-inflicted gunshot to the head? It was supposed to be me, May. I wanted to watch him bleed."

[Y/N] sat close to the top of the Empire State building. This had been her and Peter's hiding spot. She could remember the first time he had brought her up here, sometime during junior year, and the view had completely taken her breath away. Peter had taken her hand and told her he loved her for the first time. It truly felt like they could've conquered the world together.

She took a breath, attempting to let herself relax for the first time in a few days. She was exhausted; her head was pounding and her body ached. It was a lot more difficult to do the job that Peter left behind without any super-human abilities. She was extremely lucky all of his equipment hadn't taken damage, trying to follow Peter's notes and blueprints felt like reading a foreign language. It was a miracle she hadn't taken life-threatening injuries yet, though she had ended up on May's doorstep needing help getting patched back up more times than she'd like to admit. Thank God for May Parker.

The wind up this high was chilling. It seemed to bite, but it held a certain familiarity that brought comfort. [Y/N] wrapped her arms around herself, leaning against the structure of the building. The red and blue of the suit reflected against the metal. She had managed to adjust Peter's old suit enough to get it to fit her smaller frame. She was cold. She never used to be cold up here.

Her eyes were getting heavier and it was dangerous to stay up this high, but she couldn't seem to care. She gave in almost at once, letting her eyes drift shut. I'll just rest my eyes for a minute, she thought. It's not like anyone will find me up here.

There was a brief moment of complete silence. No city sounds, no wind, she could barely hear the steady intake of her own breath. It was calm, almost as if she had made her way to the end of the world. A bright, nearly blinding light made [Y/N] squeeze her eyes shut tighter. What the hell?

The noise resumed. Cars honked, people yelled. [Y/N] rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the effect of the light, and noticed that the sun had risen. Had she accidentally fallen asleep and slept until morning? She'd have to send May a text. She always sent May an "I'm Ok! :)" after patrol. The woman must be worried sick.

[Y/N] made her way off of the building, slipping her mask back on and beginning to swing home. The sounds of Jonah Jameson's voice echoed through Times Square. Since when had he begun filming his episodes? She could've sworn the reporter only did his podcast.

J. Jonah Jameson sat at a desk, a stack of papers in his hand. His voice seemed to echo through the city. "Spider-Man continues his era of chaos with no remorse—"

That was weird. She had sworn everyone had switched to referring to the vigilante as Spiderwoman ever since the change had become more apparent. Also, when did Jameson go bald? He looked just... slightly off.

The reporter's rant on the hero continued. "When will you cease this meaningless destruction? After your betrayal to Mysterio, it's a miracle you have any public support remaining at all."

Mysterio? Who the hell was Mysterio?

The girl stopped, perching herself on the edge of a building and looking at the screen expectantly. She couldn't remember fighting a "Mysterio". There hadn't been a big bad in New York since the Goblin.

"It's time this little round of show-and-tell was put to an end," Jameson continued. "When will you face the facts? For the betterment of this city, you should be put behind bars. It's time you turned yourself in, Peter Parker."

[Y/N] felt her stomach drop.

The screen flashed. A photo of a teenaged boy was put on display. The words "PUBLIC ENEMY #1" were plastered over his face. Footage followed of the man Mysterio, accusing Peter of attempting to kill him. He revealed his identity and screen went to black.

[Y/N] could see Jameson's face appear back on the screen, but she couldn't hear a word he spoke. Something was extremely wrong here. She couldn't stop thinking about the boy that they had shown.

That's wasn't Peter.

it’s happened once, and it could happen again

once I overcome my urges to simp over fictional people, it's over for you guys.

Can you just put together all of your loki quotes links please 🥺

LOKI MASTERLIST

Incorrect quotes

Loki being protective

Jealous Y/N x Loki

Loki x y/n

Loki annoying sylvie

Loki being dumb

Sex hair

Loki x y/n x bucky

Rail me

Loki x y/n x zemo

Loki being a problem

Loki x y/n x zemo 2

Y/N getting on Loki's nerves

Thor walking on Loki x Y/N

Y/N has a crush on Loki

The only thing matters

Y/N’s demon

Y/N Grounded

Y/N x Sylvie x Loki

Y/N's bf

Y/N pregnant

Who’s kid is that

An enemy

Can I pet your titties

Would you still married me?

Chaotic trio

Chaotic trio part 2

Do you trust me

Mac n cheese

Ready to commit

Pretend that

Loki NO

Hydrate

In love

Please for me

Cooking surprise

Target

Vodka

Decision

Handcuffs

Held

Hard or soft

Flirt

Marry me

Angry

Mini series (probably never going to finish)

Trust part 1 part 2

Fluffy Drabbles

Burrito

Soothing touches

Marry me

That time of month

Love triangle

Cupcakes

I don’t do hugs

Quit it or I’ll bite you

I need a husband

More than a best friend

Faint

Pretty little lies

Wake up

Spell gone wrong

I have loved you

You idiot

Drunk

Smut

His little Omega (Alpha Loki x F! Reader)

The deal (Mafia Au)

(Updated on 18.12.2021)

Link of Zemo Masterlist

sleepy subway serendipity | tasm!peter parker x reader

summary: a stranger on the train ride home brightens up tuesday, the worst day of your week

warnings : swearing, discussion of theoretical danger to reader (not anything insane), fem!reader

1.9k word count

Tuesdays were hard for you. Your job had you waking up earlier than any self-loving person should wake up, and working later than any person ever deserves to work. The train home was always brutal, but Tuesdays were the worst. On Tuesdays, you worked far into what you considered to be your bedtime and always ended up having to take a late subway ride back to your “quaint” apartment. It was 11:23 PM and you had barely managed to hop onto the train before the doors had shut on you. As the train whirred off into the night, you took account of your surroundings. Despite it being later than you’d willingly stayed up in a year, the people of the “city that never sleeps” were in fact not sleeping. In fact, it seemed that every last one of them was on the downtown-bound 2, alongside you. As you did a quick scan of the car, you weighed your options. 

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