marvel Fan

Mi pequeño rincón para escribir sobre las cosas que me gustan.

[mayqueline]

Estoy harta de los fans tóxicos de marvel. De ahora en adelante solo le prestaré atención a los proyectos donde aparezcan:

Capitana Marvel

Rocket Racoon

Sam Wilson

Bucky Barnes

Joaquín Torres

dios Loki

Y Bob Reynolds(si es que vuelve a aparecer después de Thunderbolts*)

Los otros proyectos los veré porque son de marvel y para no dejar, pero no les prestaré mucha atención.

Yelena Belova

John walker

Ava Starr

[bobakowalski]

Idk if you still take requests but I would love for Bob to kiss John's nose if you're up for it 🌞

Here they are 💖 In doomsday outfits as a little treat

[bowlingforgerbils]

Hello! Remember that faun/Greek warrior I mentioned? Here it is! 2001 words of faun Miles helping an injured warrior Ford. TW: blood, mentions of death and dying, stitching a wound. Nothing graphic. (Also, if you thought you already saw this, it's because I accidentally posted a draft instead of the finished fic. This is the real one!)

A goddess's sacred forest was no place for an injured warrior, but Ford was out of options.

Resting against the trunk of an ancient tree, he carefully undid the straps of his bronze chest plate and winced at the sizable bloodstain spreading over his linen tunic. The wound underneath — a long, jagged gash across his abdomen — was only marginally less disturbing. Any deeper and an oracle could have used his entrails to divine the future.

He balled up the fabric and pressed it against the wound, grimacing at the pain. The scars that littered his body told the tale of his previous injuries, but none of them were as bad as this one. Already he could feel himself growing woozy from the blood loss. He'd be lucky to make it out of this forest alive.

A rustle in the bushes somehow caught his attention over his agony. Ford spotted a pair of large blue eyes peering at him among the leaves.

Shit. Those eyes were too pretty to be human. A dryad, maybe? Was he bleeding out on her tree?

"I can't hurt you even if I wanted to," he bit out with a grimace. "Lost my sword and spear. I'm at your mercy."

The eyes disappeared. Then, slowly, a figure emerged from the undergrowth.

Not a dryad.

They were male, for one thing. A sweet, boyish face and a bare, flat chest, although only the upper half was human. His furry legs were bent back like a goat's and tiny horns peeked out from a mass of dark curls on top of his head.

A faun, then. Ford tried to remember the stories that his mother had told him, but the pain was making it hard to think.

"You're hurt," the faun said in a soft, trembling voice.

"Yeah, no shit," Ford replied dryly. The faun visibly flinched and Ford sighed to himself. "Sorry... meant no disrespect, uh..."

"Miles." The faun took a few shy steps towards him on tiny hooves. His ears were like a goat's, too, Ford noticed, and they twitched nervously. "I, um... could help you? I have some healing poultices, and I'm good at stitching..."

Some medical care sounded really good to Ford right now, but he was wary. There was always a price to pay when receiving aid from a nature spirit. "What would I owe you, Miles?"

The faun frowned cutely, his ears drooping. "You could not snap at me?"

Ford almost laughed. Must have been the blood loss. "I'll try my best."

~*~

After a quick retreat further into the woods, Miles re-emerged with a satchel slung over his shoulder. He sat down next to Ford on the grass, furry legs folded up beneath him, and examined the wound.

By this point, Ford was very close to passing out, which he knew was a terrible idea. He concentrated on the soft pout of Miles's lips instead. "How's it look?"

"Not the worst I've ever seen," Miles replied, despite the worry on his face. "Here..." he pulled out from his satchel a green seed pod that Ford vaguely recognized. "Chew on this, it will help with the pain."

Ford did as instructed, his hand heavy as he brought the pod up to his mouth. The effect was nearly immediate, and he relaxed against the tree as Miles took out more items from his satchel.

"I'll clean and stitch the wound, then dress it. You'll need to rest for a while while you recover." His gentle hands used a pristine cloth to wipe away the blood before he got out the needle and thread. "I can give you another seed pod if it's too painful to stay still."

"Nah," Ford mumbled around the chewed-up pod on his mouth. "'S doin' plenty already..."

Miles seemed mollified by his response, especially when he started sewing up the wound and Ford didn't even flinch at the needle. It didn't seem to take very long, or maybe the seed pod was doing something funny with how time was passing. It was like Ford had only blinked once or twice and it was over.

"Thanks," he said quietly, as Miles tied off the last stitch.

"Don't thank me until I'm done," Miles replied with a shy little smile. He opened a small clay jar and smeared a sharp-smelling poultice over the stitches. "Can you sit up a little? I have to wrap the wound."

The acrid scent roused Ford enough that he could follow the request. His armored skirt rode up at the change in position and Ford caught the faun taking a little peek and blushing at whatever he saw.

"See something you like?" Ford asked with a loopy grin.

That only made Miles blush harder. "No, I — I'm trying the be respectful..."

Ford rolled his eyes. "Says the faun who's trotting around the forest naked."

The pout on Miles's face was beyond adorable. His ears flicked back in protest. "I am *not* naked. I have on a flower crown."

"Mmm." Ford's gaze lifted lazily to the faun's hair. There was, indeed, a crown of flowers nestled among the curls. "You're right. They're pretty."

Miles bit his lip and started wrapping a clean linen around Ford's torso. "Thank you."

"You're pretty," Ford added. The pod was nothing but a husk now. He spit it out and let his mind sink more deeply into a pleasant haze. "Pretty little faun..."

"Nymphs are pretty," Miles corrected absently, not meeting Ford's eyes. "I've got hooves and a tail."

"Bet your tail's pretty, too." The absence of pain let Ford's tongue loose. "An' you got gentle hands... I'd never find a nymph as gentle as you..."

His words seemed to miss their mark wildly, because instead of another blush or maybe even a smile, Miles looked on the verge of tears. Ford felt awful, even through the thick layers of wool that his brain was swaddled in, and tried to think of something else to say to take away that sad look on such a pretty face...

Then sleep claimed him, and he wasn't thinking about much of anything.

~*~

When Ford came to, he was lying on a soft pallet, a linen sheet draped over him.

The pain was back, but it was more than manageable. Slowly, he sat up and took a better look around him. He was in a little stone hut, like a shepherd might use for temporary shelter. Aside from the bed, there was a chair and a few shelves loaded with various items, and something warm and fragrant cooking in a pot over a small wooden stove by the entrance.

Miles was tending to the pot, but startled as soon as Ford sat up. "No, no, no," he fretted, his hooves tippy-tapping on the stone floor as he rushed over. "You're not ready to be sitting up yet."

"Says who?" Ford grunted. His head was clear again, aside from a vague headache.

Miles pouted, eyes filling with tears. "Says me," he replied, lower lip trembling.

Tyrants, monsters, fearsome beasts — Ford had stood up to them all, but it was going to be this pretty little faun and his pretty little pout that did him in.

"Fine," he sighed, reclining against the pillows tucked behind him. "How'd you get me here, anyway?"

"I carried you." Ford scoffed and Miles made a face, ears twitching. "I did, honest."

Well, it's not like Miles had any reason to lie about that. "This your home?" he asked. "I thought fauns lived out in nature. Slept on tuffets and ate nuts and berries?"

Miles looked back at the pot that was simmering, a soft frown on his face. "I'm not like other fauns."

Ford tensed automatically. There was something ominous about that answer. "How so?"

When Miles returned his gaze to Ford, his eyes were sad, but it was a different kind of sadness from before. 

This time, they were filled with grief. 

With the measured movements of someone putting off the inevitable, Miles brought the small wooden chair to the side of the pallet and took a seat. It was an absurd image, a faun sitting primly with his hands folded in his lap, but Ford paid no attention to that, waiting silently for Miles to answer him.

“I was born not to far from here,” he spoke, his voice quiet and heavy. “The son of a farmer. I had a gift with a bow and arrow, and when I was old enough, I joined the light infantry as an archer. I didn't think about the people I'd have to kill, I just wanted to make my parents proud. The first battle I was in, it was — Gods, it was the worst thing I'd ever seen. My general told me to keep shooting, so I did, arrow after arrow, but the other side kept coming, and I — I don't remember what happened, but soon enough I was laying in a pile of bodies, on my way to the river Styx like the rest of them.”

Ford made a soft sound of empathy. That had nearly happened to him, too, more than once.

“A-anyway,” Miles continued, after a slow exhale and a glance Ford's way, “A goddess showed up. I don't know which one. I cried out to her, not to save me, but for absolution. I’d been a temple-going boy my whole life, always left an offering at the altar. I was ready to die, but I was scared to go with so much blood on my hands, that I'd end up in Tartarus… I guess she took pity on me, because she turned me into a faun and took me to these woods. That was... a while ago, I guess. I lost track.”

Ford watched the way Miles trembled all over, like he was ashamed. “Hey…” He placed a hand on the faun’s furry knee. “That’s a good thing, though, isn't it? That you survived?”

Miles smiled wanly. “It’s not that I mind being a faun, but it means I can't go back home. And the other creatures who live here, they know I’m different and don’t want to be around me…”

Ford couldn't imagine why the other fauns and nymphs wouldn’t want Miles for company. It was their loss, anyway. He pet the fur on Miles’s knee — much softer than a goat’s, and very warm. “Is that why you saved me? To keep me around?”

Miles looked at him in alarm, a protest about to leave his lips, but then he caught sight of Ford’s smirk and scowled at him. “You promised you'd be nice to me.”

“No, I promised I wouldn't snap at you.” He gave the back of Miles’s knee a little tickle and was delighted by the giggle that escaped those pretty lips. “Anyway, it doesn't matter, because I’m not going anywhere, especially since you took my clothes. Not all of us can prance through the forest naked.”

“I’m not naked!” Miles insisted, but he was smiling now, a hopeful shine in his eyes. “You’ll really stay with me?”

“Yeah.” He gestured for Miles to lean closer, then gently brushed out one of his curls. “And you are naked. No flower crown.”

Miles blushed adorably. “Are you alright with that?”

Ford nodded. “More than. So long as the same goes for me.”

Miles nodded, eyes bright. Ford tugged his shoulder a little, bringing him close enough that they could kiss. The faun’s lips were as soft as they looked, and he tasted like a ripe berry. It was probably as close to the Elysium as Ford was ever going to get, and he lost himself in that feeling for a little while, at least until Miles pulled away.

“Your stitches,” he said, even as he kept staring at Ford's lips longingly. “We have to be gentle.”

Ford gave him a little nod and carefully drew him back in for another kiss. 

Gentle wasn’t something that Ford was good at, but for this sweet little faun, he could learn.

[ladydeadpooly]

Avengers Doomsday Bob

I've watched the new Averngers Doomsday trailer. And to see all the super teams in ONE room! Even though Bob was just a second on screen. He wore the Thunderbolts After Credits outfit. LOL!

[katzwashere]

So the World Cup is over? Well, not for them 😏😏😏

Like my work? Find more here!

[sugarskies]

THE DOOMSDAY TRAILER CAME OUT OMG OMG HOLY SHIT

this is sentryagent crumbs trust

[monza1-2]

WE ARE SO BACK!

[disterra]

this weekend's ridiculous lil chibis inspired by: kitty john in someone who needs me by @/prettygirlwyattrussell | puppy john in he's got that dog in him by @/bowlingforgerbils 🐶🐱 semi-infected lewis ford rescuing miles miller because i remember @/lollypopunicorn14, @/lalalunascope & @/hi-res-tm mentioning this crossover ship 💗

[sugarskies]

Bob wearing a cowboy hat so he can ride John (aka a cowboy)

Though it did feel weird to be naked in bed wearing a cowboy hat, John had to admit the whole thing was really fucking hot.

Of course, a big part of that had to do with Bob. Bob’s hot thighs clinging to the outside of his waist; Bob’s soft ass resting on top of John’s bare skin; Bob’s pretty face looking down at John, loose curls spilling out of his cowboy hat. His hands rested over John’s ribs, a grin on his face as he rocked back and forth ever so slightly on John’s throbbing dick.

John moaned beneath his breath, fingers gliding up Bob’s hips and coming to rest around his waist. He dug his fingertips into Bob’s skin when Bob leaned forward, moving himself into a better position for riding. John reached up and pushed Bob’s hat back on his head, then exhaled deeply as he braced himself for the unbridled pleasure he was about to feel.

“Giddy up,” Bob mumbled. He bounced on his knees and rolled his hips, his warm, tight hole sliding up and down John’s heavy length. John cursed beneath his breath and threw his head back in ecstasy, his arms shifting forward and back with Bob’s steady movements.

Though John had initially been hesitant to be compared to a horse, he had to admit that he loved every second of the actual act. Bob’s ass slapping against the thick flesh on top of John’s thighs, fingers clinging to John’s torso. Little beads of sweat glistened across his body, causing his skin to sparkle every time the light hit it.

The hat made it even better somehow, too. John had never understood roleplaying before Bob. All his ideas sounded ridiculous in theory, but they were fucking hot in practice. The hat attracted John’s gaze to Bob’s face, highlighting his beautiful hair and deep blue eyes. John barely even noticed the precum dripping down on his stomach from Bob’s tip and the intensity of Bob’s grasp on him, too focused how hot and wet and goddamn good his cock felt.

“Fuck, man.”

And then Bob stopped and leaned over John, his cock sliding against John’s sternum as his hands slipped up to John’s tits. A drop of sweat dripped off his forehead on John’s chest, his hat hiding most of his face. John lifted his right hand off Bob’s waist and tapped his chin, eyes wide and adoring.

“You all right?” he asked gently. Bob nodded, chest visibly rising and falling as he breathed heavily.

“I’m good.” Bob rolled his thumbs in circles over John’s nipples and smiled a little at the shiver that ran through John’s spine. “I just— I kinda hate riding you.”

“Well, that’s not what a guy wants to hear when he’s balls deep in you.”

“You’re only, like, four inches in right now.” Bob pinched John’s chin teasingly. “And your dick is fine. I just kinda wish I was the one laying on my back doing nothing.”

John snorted. Of course, he did. “Here, sit back up.”

He pulled his feet into him, bending his knees as Bob moved himself back into an angled riding position. Bob shifted his hands back to John’s waist, fingers digging into his flesh when John started thrusting into him, pounding twice as hard as Bob had been riding before.

“Oh, fuck, yeah.” Bob leaned his head back, face and hat once again in full view. His hips moved along with John, following his movements and just barely deepening his thrusts. “Fuck, that’s so much better.”

“Feels good?”

“It— I’m gonna come.” Something overtook John and he felt the need to make it just a little better. He wrapped one hand around Bob’s cock and started to stroke it, a lazy smile on his face when the first, small line of cum spilled over his palm. “Fuck.”

Once he started, it just kept coming. Every thrust over Bob’s prostate released another jet of cum directly across John’s chest. It was warm and sticky and combined with the little moans and whines Bob let out, it felt goddamn amazing.

“Come in me,” said Bob suddenly, tone urgent. John looked up, eyes wide with surprise. “John, come in me. John.”

The way that Bob softly pinched and twisted his nipples did him in. John groaned loudly when he came, cum somehow warming his cock even more than Bob had on his own. He pushed Bob’s hips down as he pushed up, forcing as much of his release to go inside of Bob as possible.

Bob practically collapsed on top of John, the brim of his hat bumping into John’s as he folded himself over. His ass clenched around John’s cock, hands clinging to John’s tits for dear life. He whined when John started to pull out and immediately pushed himself back on John’s cock.

“Stay in.”

“It’s not too much?”

He shook his head, thighs loosening around John’s sides as he relaxed. John wrapped his arms around Bob’s back, hands roaming up and down his muscles. He sank into the mattress himself, his cowboy hat ruining the comfort of his pillow.

“I really don’t think these are meant to be worn during sex,” he mumbled, “but holy shit, do you look hot wearing it.”

Bob smiled, propped himself up on his elbows, and tilted John’s hat into a more comfortable position. “So do you.”

[coyotevalentine]

bobs greed sickens me

[doggedworship]

A guard dog and a stray dog fell in love

[marveldaily]

Thunderbolts dir. Jake Schreier | 2025

[doggedworship]

John dresses all nice for his first date with Bob just for Bob to show up like this.

John is extremely ashamed of how enamoured (and horny) he is

[disterra]

couple of days late but i drew this for wyatt day 🎉 based on this old post?tweet?

[sugarskies]

okay wait hear me out. pre-relationship. bob has not told anyone about his migraines. when they happen, he just isolates himself and waits it out. no one thinks much of it because it's very normal for him to lock himself in his room for a day or two here and there. yelena checks in to make sure he's eating and everything but otherwise they just let him be.

then one day john is walking past bob's room when he hears coughing. he knocks on the door to ask if bob is okay and what he hears is a soft sound of pain. concerned, he goes inside to find bob is curled against the wall in his en suite, all the lights off. he's covering his ears, his eyes are shut tight, his is face pale, and tears are streaming down his cheeks.

normally, bob wouldn't say anything. he didn't want anyone to know about his migraines. but he's in so much pain that he just doesn't have it in him to fight. john asks what's going on and bob mumbles enough to explain that it's a migraine, that he's having really bad vertigo, that he needs john to be quiet because every little sound is like searing pain.

and what is john supposed to do? walk away? leave bob to suffer alone? no. he practically carries bob back to his bed, moving as slow as he needs. he gets bob a cool cloth for his forehead and a bottle of water and a light snack. one thing leads to another and somehow he's lying down with bob and bob's head is on his shoulder and john's having a bisexual panic but he can't leave because bob finally looks kind of comfortable.

[agentinlove]

they fell right out of the comics didn't they

[mayqueline]