#mavel au

[onyxart67]

“I’m with you till the end of the line.”

.

.

.

(Guess who’s back into their stucky obsession.)

idc if this doesn’t make sense personally wise.

[earth6945]

talking about The Phoenix Scott: She's beauty. Emma: She's grace. Kurt, runnning into the room: SHE CAN DESTROY THE HUMAN RACE!

[cordytriestowrite]

Knocking On Your Door

Bucky Barnes x Reader

One Shot College AU

Summary: Bucky can't sleep and you can't find your door.

The strip of light under the door was too bright and the heavy footfalls just outside sent shadows across Bucky's eyelids so that every time he felt compelled to open them. He knew it was late but didn't dare touch his phone and have his retinas burned by the intense, artificial light. Ten feet to his right his best friend let out a loud, choking snore reminding Bucky he was the only one having a problem adjusting to dorm life. 

A shiver ran down Bucky's body as his left shoulder escaped from the warm cocoon of his comforter and he had to expose his right hand to the cold to tuck everything back in. A sleeping Steve missed Bucky's lukewarm glare in the dark. The man could sleep soundly on a bed of ice but Bucky? Well, Bucky hated the cold. The thermostat for the whole floor was just down the hall behind a plastic cage. He spared a moment to fantasize about ripping it off with his bare hand before hurling it out the window and watching it shatter on the sidewalk below. And while the fantasy was nice the reality was Bucky should probably just put on a sweater, but he hated wearing shirts to bed so he stubbornly suffered in silence. 

Two students passed through the hall in a heated conversation at full volume. Did anyone take morning classes on this floor? Bucky wondered bitterly as he burrowed his head underneath his pillow and let out a tiny, totally manly whimper of exhaustion. He knew college would be tough, was told as much by everyone he knew, but no one thought to mention how impossible it would be to get some fucking sleep.

The tips of his ears and nose warmed with his head planted under his pillow and while his neck ached slightly and his inhales became filled more with exhaled breath than fresh air he found his eyes suddenly heavy with sleep. 

The rattling of the door knob had Bucky bolting upright. The sound was insistent, offending Bucky's ears every few seconds while he blinked sleep from his eyes. The sudden cold air on his chest helped rouse him enough to pull the covers back and put his feet on the equally cold ground. He took a moment to grit his teeth against the chill. 

What sounded like an open palm smacked once against the wood spurring Bucky to leap the short distance across the room. His hand gripped the still wriggling knob and wretched the door open.

"Jesus, do you know what time it is?"

The greeting growled out of him, he couldn't help it. He knew he was wild-eyed, hair messy, and torso bare to display the stump where his arm should be and that alone would have made even his closest friends take an instinctual step away.

But you only blinked owlishly at him.

"You're not Carol?" You managed to slur out the cohesive thought as you stared at the man in front of you who was definitely not your roommate. 

"Uh," Bucky's forehead crinkled with his own confusion. 

"No?"

It was obvious you were drunk. If Bucky didn't have eyes he'd still be able to smell the reek of booze pouring off your skin. 

"Why are you in my room?" 

"I'm not. I'm in my room."

"Who are you?"

"Bucky, who are you?"

Your gaze hardened and your hands braced against your hips. You knew where you lived god dammit and this...this...Bucky would not put you out on your ass.

"Get out of my room you creep!"

Bucky's movements were quicker than yours, his arm coming up to block your two handed push. What neither of you anticipated was the lack of balance on your end that had you crumpling into each other like a car crash. It took your brain a minute to breach the surface of understanding and reorient your sense of space to its current status: horizontal with a bloom of pain in your knee and your face pressed to bare skin. Your tongue swiped along your bottom lip and the action was answered with a pulsing sting and the taste of copper.

"Ouchies." You moaned with a pathetic warble.

A groan of agreement rumbled beneath you. Bucky, with the wind still knocked out of him, glanced up at the bed half expecting a disheveled blond head to lean over the edge. If Steve woke up at all from the commotion he already deemed it not as important as sleeping.

You didn't seem interested in moving off of Bucky and occasionally he could feel your tongue leave a wet trail against his chest which was kind of weirding him out. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of taking advantage of a drunk girl by another loud late-night hall walker. With his arm on your opposite shoulder he tugged gently until you fell onto the rug beside him. 

"Where's Carol?" You asked again, feeling your eyes sting with big, fat, extra salty tears.

"I want french fries." You added as an afterthought. 

Bucky let out a surprised chuckle, muffling it behind his palm as he let it slide down his face and pull at his lower lip.

"Me too."

Your stomach contracted with a mix of hunger and nausea. Turning on your side you tried to settle into a comfortable position on the hard floor. Bucky turned on his side toward you, his eyes flitting over your face with concern.

"Don't fall asleep."

Your lower lip jutted out, the pull of skin ripping the split open further. Your tongue ran along the wound again. 

"I'm not!"

Your eyes closed of their own accord though your mind was still very much active. You wondered yet again where Carol was. But finding her was only  secondary to your new mission.

"I want french fries."

You heard a sigh and cracking one eye open your vision swam for a moment before taking in the man next to you. His hair was long, pooling onto the floor under his head. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles and weary with the need for sleep. His chest was bare, pale and toned and scarred where his limb suddenly ended.

"Did I do that?" You wondered out loud, your fingers inching toward the pink, tight skin. 

"No." he answered, his voice soft with vulnerability. 

Bucky felt as if he had hit the floor all over again. He felt dizzy and breathless and unable to do anything but watch what was happening. Fingers connected with flesh and the sharp intake of air hurt his lungs. It didn't feel like much, the nerves dull and your touch light, but Bucky's body was awake with awareness. 

"I've never…" 

Your thought floated away halfway through speaking it, but Bucky nodded as if he understood. Eventually your fingers stopped stroking and Bucky rolled over to his back. There was a second of stillness before he sat up and stared down at you.

"Tell you what: let's go find your friend Carol and get you some french fries."

You ignored the pain of your lip in favor of offering Bucky a wide smile.

"Fuck yes let's go!"

Bucky sent a quick glance to the lump in Steve's bed which remained unmoving despite your exclamation. Rising first he offered his hand to you, bending his knees and keeping his balance low and centered as you stumbled your way up to standing. 

-

"Wake up sleeping beauty."

You groaned, pulling your blanket above your head. Your head was pounding, blood pulsing painfully behind your eyes. Your mouth was dry, breath foul, and bladder full. In essence you were hungover. 

"Carol, I'm dying." You moaned, your voice breaking with overuse. 

"I know sweetie. Now sit up and take these."

Carol pulled the blanket back and waited patiently for you to sit up before dropping the pills into your awaiting palm. You dropped them into your mouth and tried not to gag as you washed them down. 

"So you had an interesting night, huh?"

You had settled back down, the effort it took to stay upright too much to handle right now. You draped your forearm over your eyes and let out a sigh of relief.

"I don't know, did I?"

Carol didn't answer but you could still feel her weight on the edge of your bed. You snuck a peak from under your arm.

"Carol Danvers what do you know?"

She shrugged, but the burgeoning smirk on her lips suggested she wasn't entirely ignorant. You sat up again, your body hunched over with nausea, but you persevered. 

"Tell me what you know, woman!"

Carol's lips quirked upward, her stare steady in silent resistance. You were about to flop back down and leave last night a mystery but Carol must've seen your interest waning. 

"Imagine my surprise when there is a knock on the door at four in the morning and it's you holding a basket of fries in one hand and waving goodbye to some tall, dark, and handsome with the other."

"Who was it?"

Carol shrugged, finally getting up and crossing back over to her side of the room and tugging on her brown leather jacket.

"I'm meeting Maria for breakfast. Want me to bring you something back or do you think you can brave the journey."

As much as you wanted to spend the day in bed with your roommate bringing you food you knew the best way to recover from your monster hangover was to walk your tired ass downstairs and across campus to the cafeteria, load up a plate with greasy food, and shovel it all into your face until you felt human again.

You pulled back your covers to find yourself still in the outfit you wore last night, a wrinkled shirt and skirt combo that did not look as cute as it did last night. Pulling on sweatpants and a hoodie you followed Carol at a much slower pace. 

Maria was leaning against the outside wall of the cafeteria until she spotted Carol. You watched her jog to meet her girlfriend sooner by a few seconds with a flutter in your own chest at just how fucking cute they were. 

"Not that I don't like seeing you two be adorable but I need hash browns."

Maria took one look at your current state and nodded seriously, pulling Carol along under her arm.

"Well shit who am I to deny you breakfast?"

The cafeteria was surprisingly busy for a Saturday morning, but the lines of food were already being switched out for lunch items and you realized it was later than you thought. 

You were plopping your third scoop of eggs onto your plate when you felt a presence next to you. Looking up beyond the edge of your hood a spark of recognition barely ignited in your memory, but something about him seemed familiar. His plate sat mostly empty on the runner and you assumed he was waiting for his turn with the eggs. 

"Sorry." You muttered, dropping the spoon and moving along the line.

"For which part?" 

Bucky had barely registered that the hunched and bundled body next to him was you until you spoke. He had dropped you off at the door a floor below his only six hours ago then took the stairs back to his room and promptly passed out. Steve tried to rouse him for a morning run with Sam but unlike Steve, Bucky hadn't caught a wink of sleep until the sun was rising. Steve's return and Sam's insistent prodding at Bucky's body beneath his blanket had spurred him awake and in a foul mood. He escaped the room with his foul mood intact wondering if Natasha would let him crash in her bed while she worked. She didn't answer when he knocked on her door and in a futile attempt to catch up on sleep he ventured to the cafeteria. She wasn't there but now that Bucky was his stomach begged for substance. With an energy drink shoved into his pocket he pushed his plate down the line waiting for something to catch his eye. 

Turns out that thing was you. 

Turns out Bucky was not quite out of his funk.

He followed you, pushing his plate past what remained of the eggs. 

"Do you want to apologize for showing up at my door in the middle of the night? Or for accusing me of breaking into my own dorm? Maybe for pushing me?"

Your eyes widened with each word until the dryness stung and forced you to blink back the moisture. There was a smudged image in your mind of the same man before you, hair loose and eyes tired, not too different from how he looked right now. 

"All of it?" You offered up with a half shrug. 

Bucky didn't know what he expected, wasn't sure he expected anything. Maybe he just wanted to be angry and for you to feel guilty. 

But he remembered your fingers grazing the scars on his chest and arm, how you leaned into him as he walked you to your door, your nonsensical stories barely uttered through drunken giggles, and how much many times you muttered 'cute' when gazing at him with a dopey smile on your face. 

Silence stretched between you, Bucky's gaze far away with the night he luckily could remember. You moved down the bar, suddenly not as hungry as you were a few minutes ago. 

You reached the student cashier, who barely looked up as you reached into your pocket to fish out your id card.

"I got it."

Bucky leaned over to place his card into the cashier's awaiting hand. Who swiped it without hesitation before passing it back in Bucky's general direction. 

"Thanks."

You picked up your plate, waiting for Bucky to do the same.

"I really am sorry for whatever I did last night."

Bucky placed his plate down at an empty table then set his energy drink down before pulling out his chair. You could see Carol and Maria sitting a few tables away, but the couple was wrapped up in a conversation and hadn't noticed you.

"I assume I have you to thank for getting me home last night?"

Bucky nodded, a smile forming on his tired face.

"And your precious basket of fries. I'm surprised you're still hungry, I bought you three baskets."

A flush of heat rippled down your body, self-consciously you licked your bottom lip and felt a tenderness you didn't have before you started drinking last night. 

"Holy shit, I ate that many fries?"

"Nah, you wanted to bring one back to Carol."

You glanced at the woman in question. Catching her eye and watching her very obviously mouth 'that's him!'

Yeah, no shit Carol. Thanks. 

"So after I wake you up in the middle of the night, insult you, push you, and drag you out of your dorm you not only buy me fries but you buy my friend fries and my breakfast this morning."

Bucky shrugged, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth and staring intently at his plate. 

"Are you single?"

Bucky choked a little before he managed to swallow the large amount of food he had unwittingly dumped into his gob to keep from making an ass of himself. Turns out he could do that anyway. Coughing to clear his airway he let out a strangled answer.

"I am."

"So would it be weird if after all of that I asked you out?"

Bucky couldn't keep from smiling this time and to be safe he set down his fork and pushed away his plate. He had a date. He had the weirdest night of his college experience and now he had a date. Bad mood banished he felt an influx of endorphins urging him to run or jump or dance or do something equally stupid in public. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'd like that. But I'd like to take a nap first." He confessed with a chuckle.

"Oh my god, me too." You said wistfully, already imagining crawling back into bed, maybe with…

"First date idea: want to nap together?"

Bucky's heart swelled in his chest to the point he thought it might send him floating away. 

"Fuck yes! Can we go now?"

You nodded, letting out a surprised squeal when Bucky gasped your hand and pulled you up and out of the mess hall. You caught up with him so he was less tugging you along and more so holding your hand. 

"Maybe while we walk you can help me fill in the gaps of last night. So your name is Bucky and why were you in my room?"

Bucky groaned, albeit with no frustration. You were so fucking cute if you let him he was going to kiss you before you both passed out cuddled up in the small, thin dorm beds, ignoring the sounds of passersby and daylight streaming though the window.

And fuck anyone who knocks on the door.

Permanent tag list

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[tonymystarks]

If anyone has an prompts or anything they want me to write, let me know and I'll take my best shot! I'm mostly finished my classes and need something to do

[super-sanders]

Chapter 2 coming soon q&a opening back up soon

taglist:

@amazable01 @forestwulf @theotherella @fandomfan315 @salvatora-or-sally-jackson @ironwoman359

[super-sanders]

Chapter 1: Panic

Summary: Thomas finds himself running away once again from a shady organization from his past only to have a startling encounter with some of Earth’s mightiest heroes.

Pairings: Basically queerplatonic LAMPD

Warnings: PTSD, anxiety attacks, getting shot at, mentions of shooting, implied experimentation and torture, it’s marvel superheroes so like violence? sorta? Just implied in this chapter. 

(let me know if I need to warn/tag anything else)

Word count: 1001

The trees were a blur as Thomas races to escape his pursuers. He could hear them shouting far behind him, bringing with it an all too familiar fear. 

His feet pound against the forest floor as he wills himself to go faster. Something shoots past him, slamming into a tree beside him. A bullet? A Tranq dart? Something worse?!

He doesn’t want to find out.

Praying he can find a way to lose them, he continues to push himself forward against the ache in his legs. They felt ready to collapse alongside his burning lungs, his breath harsh in his throat as he strains to breathe.

The roar of a jet engine shrieks overhead rattling the limbs of the trees around it as it hovers close to the forest. Thomas notices several figures jump out of it rushing to meet the group of armed men chasing after him.

Did they call in reinforcements?! More weapons to hurt or capture him with?! Would they try and shoot him with the jet or just use it to take him away again!?! Would he be dragged back to- 

A startled gasp leaves Thomas’s mouth as he slams to the ground with his foot caught on a tree root. His knees and palms sting from the impact, something to add to his growing list of pain. 

Thomas scrambles on all fours over to the nearby tree, curling in on himself as he attempts to steady his breathing. A chorus of strange sounds ringing loud behind him, gunshots, electricity crackling, pulses of energy and grunts from fists meeting flesh. It was all barely registering in his mind as he fights off the waves of swirling panic.

“You’re ok, we’re ok” Thomas whispers to himself trying to control his raging thoughts. “You are not in a lab, you’re in Florida. You’re in a forest, not in a metal room.” 

He chants the familiar mantra over and over, growing frustrated as it proves ineffective. Angry that he can’t pull himself together. “We’re ok, we’re ok!” Thomas squeezes his eyes shut forcing back tears as his breath comes in painful gasps. 

It all feels too much like he’s back there all over again, running for his life trying to-

“Hey Cap, think someone’s over here.” 

A horrified shriek escapes Thomas’s lips as he pulls himself to his feet, launching himself away from the stranger clad in purple-ish leather only standing a couple feet away. He doesn’t watch where he is going all to concerned about the man holding a dangerous bow, plowing himself right into a tree. 

Dots dance in his vision as he falls to the ground for the second time, a horrible headache building as something warm drips down the side of his face.

“Ah geez, you alright?” The stranger asks, stepping closer while reaching an arm out to try and help Thomas up

Instinctively he jerks away putting as much distance between them as he can without causing himself to blackout, “StAy AwAy!”

He can’t help but flinch at his own voice as it echos and warps, tempest tongue leaking into it as he presses himself painfully against the tree. 

That’s the first sign. He needs to get out of here before it’s too late. 

“Alright-alright that’s ok.” the stranger crouches down putting his hands up in a non-threatening gesture, the one hand with the bow slowly reaching to his hip, the bow collapses in it self folding up and clipping to his belt. “I won’t come any closer." 

Thomas can feel himself shaking as he stares at the blonde archer, waiting for him to attack, to prove his lie, to steal them away again, to steal everything away from them. Unwanted tears burn his eyes as he moves to hug himself, knees curling up to his chest, he’s cornered and he knows it. 

A strange feeling starts in his core and spreads through him, prickly, almost painful feeling like a limb falling asleep, growing slowly more painful. Second warning he needs to get out of there. 

“Hey, those dudes aren’t going to get you any time soon,” The archer shifts on his feet, seemingly awkwardly unsure how to help calm Thomas, “just… try breathing with me.” he hesitantly exaggerates his breathing, moving his hand up and down as a way to gauge when he was breathing in or out. 

The adrenaline from the horrible chase and panic slowly ease away as Thomas sits there, with most of the panic leaving him he can begin to think more clearly again, he attempts to follow the men breathing to disappears more of his panic. His breathing is still a little erratic but he’s not hyperventilating there’s only so much you can do when you’re still terrifyingly cornered by a stranger…and well, bleeding from the head.

The archer seems satisfied, though he was frowning a little, looking Thomas over with analytical blue eyes absorbing every detail. “Can you stand?” 

“I- “ Thomas voice cracks and cuts off, he risks squeezing his eyes shut trying to take some deep breaths as he begins repeating the mantra to himself again, he knows they should be fine, there are no crazed men with guns anymore so obviously this guy did something to stop them. 

They’re not really in danger anymore. Calm down. Just calm down. 

He’s still shaking terribly when he opens his eyes, ready to try and speak again fighting against his anxiety to do so…only

He realizes too late that his shaking is no longer due to fear. 

His third and final warning.

Thomas tries to speak only to lightly cry out as pain shot up his spine, his very core spasming. He curls up tighter in himself trying to hold themselves together, they can’t do this now, not out in the open, not with a stranger. But the feeling of being ripped into pieces still comes at full force as they fall apart. 

Last thing Thomas hears is the archer calling for someone named Stark.

Tag list: 

 @amazable01 @i-crave-luck @timoteay

[lliblo]

MV01 Broken Nor Series

Prompt:

What if Aunt May was a psychopath? (Sociopathy?) And menially abused Peter (because there are too many physical abuse fics. Lets mix things up! #1 rule is rarely have May physically hurt him. We can be despicable humans with morbidly creative minds... lets see what happens) 

This one is actually too old to have a written prompt(^That is the paraphrased thoughts of what I had when the idea came up), it was written before I keep track of my ideas but luckily I went with it and have created a series where I fully expand on the topic. Basically what would happen if Aunt May was a psychopath from the very beginning and was even responsible for Ben’s death. I have one finished book and second that I’m still working on (had a bit of writers block so as of writing this it’s on a hiatuses)

My Fic - Book 1

Links:  

AO3 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/15896988/chapters/37048254

Wattpad - https://www.wattpad.com/story/164638398-always-silent-peter-darling

Summery:

After a traumatic experience at age 6, Peter Parker hasn't spoken a word. Most blame it on the fact that he witnessed his Uncle die in a horrible fire, this is only partly true. Now, almost 10 years later Peter is given the chance to finally speak, but will he take it? Or is the fear of his Aunt to much for him to take that chance?Either way, Tony Stark can tell something's not quite right about the kind hearted May Parker.(Don't get me wrong I love Aunt May! But I always wondered what if we put a little darkness in the character? That's where this AU was born. Peter's life as Spider-Man wasn't easy before and now with a manipulative and abusive guardian, things only get more complicated but he's still determined to listen to his uncles words: "With great power comes great responsibility)

Rules for Use:

Feel free to expand or alter if this inspires you!

Repost a link to your fic on this post (I wanna read it!!)

Give proper credit and link this post in the fic itself (Pretty please?)

Return To: LlibLo’s Fan Fiction Prompt Index

[the-crimson-thief-archived]

Marvel AU

Secret identity

Arsene

Powers

Enhanced Reflexes

Prophetic Speech

Gun and Knife Proficiency

What he was before his powers and how he got them

High School student but a great thief always doing the best could to stay hidden most people not realizing something was stolen till he was far gone. He was contacted one day through text by an anonymous source to steal documents from a large bunker that was filled with large unmarked barrels with one large metal desk that had only the classified documents on top of it, but once he finally got the files he was far too curious about the files only skimming through seeing something about how physical trauma and exposure to radiation could cause a mutation. Ot was just then Akira only saw white as he felt a huge pain in the back of his head almost immediately only coming to his senses after spending three weeks in a coma, and finding out about his powers weeks later first noticing the enhanced reflexes and prophetic speech only noticing the gun and knife proficiency after a failed robbery attempt by a mugger in which he was able to take the man's weapons able to unload the pistol and knock the man out with a single strike with the butt of the gun within seconds.