FR0PIEE
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Furina moves far away from everything to a village where no one knows her. A legend of a wolf lingers, and a striking woman enters her life.
Bookmarked by FR0PIEE
29 Jan 2026
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slow burning building by womanlover1000
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Black Widow (Movie 2021), Iron Man (Movies)
02 Jan 2026
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What happens when two emotionally repressed people who believe they're undeserving of love... fall in love?
Pages and pages of yearning, that's what.
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I hate men.
Persistent and annoying vermin of the earth- they just never seemed to know when to shut up. A small voice from the corner of your mind objected, feebly reminding you that, hey, some of them are okay, but your rage quickly vanquished the thought. Two whole days of being cut off by pickup trucks, Subarus, and the like all occupied by gross, hairy old men with their idiotic hats had worn you down and this sleazy motel owner had been the straw to break the camel’s back.
You huffed in frustration, bunching up the rough comforter in your hands, freezing as a hint of smoke wafted into your nostrils. Your blood blazed with panic, and you scrambled out of the bed, eyeing the singed silhouette of your body, outlined with flames that were quickly growing.
Well, shit.
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This fic is canon-compliant and follows the overall plot of the MCU, starting before the events of Iron Man 2. EXTREMELY slow burn. Reader is referred to with they/them pronouns. Homophobia and Transphobia are not plot points.
Bookmarked by FR0PIEE
18 Nov 2025
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Gem loved strolling through Pearls base, because it usually ended with her and Pearl having some fun together. This time however, Pearl has some new toys that she thinks will make Gem look absolutely stunning.
Series
- Part 7 of An inevitable collection of smut
Bookmarked by FR0PIEE
06 Aug 2025
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“Natasha,” she says. Out of the corner of your eye, you see her—her hair a muted copper, an umbrella clutched in one hand and the other tucked into the pocket of her leather jacket. She stands on the edge like it’s a park bench rather than a drop that would leave you with more broken bones than years you’ve lived.
You wait for her to ask for your name—it doesn’t come. Neither does a, “What’s wrong?” or “Come down from there.”
“Cold tonight,” she continues, as if you had spoken. “My knees haven’t ached this bad since ’09. You’ve been up here a while.”
The words sting; you wonder how she knows. The truth is blunt, painful, aching like the bruises on your ribs. You can only imagine how you must look, soaked to the bone, looking all the part of a drowned rat. Filthy, your mother had muttered last week. I don’t know what to do with you anymore.
Finally, somehow, you find your voice. “You should go.”
Natasha tilts her head. “Probably,” she agrees, before tipping the umbrella towards you.
On the eve of your death, someone joins you as you stand on the ledge.