Marvel Fanfiction - Blog Posts

''I'm proud of you kiddo'' Dad! Tony stark x !kid Reader

Request?: No Summery: You have always have been trying to impress your dad, even though he always been proud of you, you want to work hard. So when you finally had your diploma in your hand, he was the proudest dad in the world. Genre: Fluff, No Angst, just fluff!

A/N: Hi guys, first fic, Hope you guys like it, Cause I'm totally into the father figure Tony stark.

The end of the school year was getting closer by the day, You’ve been studying like crazy for your finals determining if you would graduate from high school or not. It’s been some crazy years, since the avengers began saving the world, more threats were popping up everywhere and in All honesty, you have the most experience in it. Some people say you're lucky, some people just want you dead.

Those are some things you deal with when you are born in the stark family.

Being the kid of the Iron man, Tony stark, has some Ups but also downs. First off, he’s always so busy, saving the world and tinkering for new gadgets for his own Iron man suit, he spends hours down in the lab that you have to bring his food and water down, before Pepper would find out and she would scold him for being so irresponsible for his health.

Every time you do bring some food, He thanks you by ruffling your hair and Telling you something about the new gadget he’s making. You smile in yourself at the memory, when he actually allowed you to make your own suit with him, customised to your liking. 

‘’Only use it when you have no choice and when you are in actual danger.’’ He told you, as you nodded, understanding why after the whole event of Ultron Taking over the Iron man suits.

Even if he’s not the most perfect dad, he is your’s and you love him with all your heart. That’s why you have been a hard worker your entire life. They had expectations for you, most of the criticism was from the media, but you honestly didn’t care about all that, all you cared about, was the opinion of your dad, who has always been there since you’ve been born into the family.

And when the finals were starting, You were more than ready to go head on into these tests, Your Diploma so close into your reach it wasn’t funny. Tony did worry a bit, when he saw the patterns of hard work he created and inherited from his side. You were locking yourself in your room, studying 24/7 about the subjects you had to take, Like you, he eventually brought you food, just like how you would do it to him.

‘’You Okay Kiddo?’’ He asked you, as he tried to sound as smug as he could, but you were you dad’s kid, you knew better. You looked over at him as you could see him slightly worried. “Yeah dad, Just studying for finals, I’m almost done for the day, Thank you for the food.’’ You smiled at him, as he just ruffled your hair. 

“Alright Kid, After studying wanna help me with an upgrade on your suit? I think I have some few ideas and you left your sketches around my lab, I just took a look and liked some ideas so I wanna put it on your suit.’’ He chuckled, seeing you get excited by it.

‘’Okay! Coming!’’ You smiled, cleaning the place up as you guys worked for the rest of the day on your suit.

And now,

Now you were in the crowd, waiting for your name to be called, To get that Diploma in your hand.

‘’Y/n Stark’’ The principal called out

You smiled widely, as you walked up to the stage, everyone clapping as you waved to the audience. Some press were taking Photo’s of you, as you shook the teachers hand. You looked over at the crowd, as one person stood out of the crowd.

Your smile went wider as you saw your dad in the crowd, and laughed slightly as you could see some small tears in his eyes. You signed your diploma, grabbed it gently out of the principals hand and walked off towards your family, as you hugged your dad tight.

He kissed your forehead and smiled at you. “I’m proud of you kiddo’’

And at that moment, You know you will always have your dad, It was You two against the world.

fic recs of the week:

Daredevils Don't Drink Decaf by orphan_account

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Daredevil coffee shop au! Foggy spends a gap year after law school looking after his parents coffee shop, Matt keeps stumbling in right before closing to see his favourite barista.

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Rocky Horror Pancake Show by orphan_account

Daredevil, Complete, 1 Chapter, 19,596 Words

Foggy gets stuck in a time loop where he has to stop a series of bombs from being set off at the end of the day. Each day he ropes Matt in to help. Each day he learns more secrets about Matt.

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Excessive Pettiness Is A Public Service by shinyglorchan

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Todoroki decides the best way to try and irritate Endeavour would be to max out his credit card, as months go by with the purchases going unnoticed he buys more and more ridiculous things.

60s Wanda - Marvel Masterlist ᱬ

Next on our journey through the pages, we come across a version of Wanda from 1960.

Everything was still in black and white for a while - wait, is that a bit of colour we see as the page turns?

‟ I am Glamour, and he’s Illusion ” | ‟ Vision, is this really happening? ”

ᱬ ࣪𖤐 unsure ~ b. barnes | g/n reader

ᱬ ࣪𖤐 daddy? ~ b. barnes | female reader

ᱬ ࣪𖤐 saving grace ~ b. barnes | g/n reader

ᱬ ࣪𖤐 lucky ~ l. laufeyson | female reader

masterlist

Lucky - l. laufeyson

a/n; i just want to say a huge thank you to everyone for the likes/comments/reblogs on my first piece posted yesterday! I’m so grateful to each and every one of you! here’s my next work from a work of mine called ‘Serpentine’ found on ao3 & wattpad.

pairing; married! loki x wife! reader

reblogs/feedback/likes are appreciated & encouraged. DO NOT repost/steal any of my works.

warnings; n/a

word count; 644

prompt based; “I knew there was a reason I married you”.

links; Marvel Masterlist | Masterlist

© springismss - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

A gentle hum passed your lips as you lay your hands on the balcony staring out into the night, seemingly reflecting on the events of the last few years of your life.

What some would consider a whirlwind you considered perfectly normal. Well, as normal as it could be with the person you had chosen to be the other half of your soul until you close your eyes for the last time.

"Mammy! Help!".

The excited squeal of a child caused you to smile, looking over your shoulder to find a small figure, trying their best to run, coming towards you. The laugh that sounded from you was one of pure happiness as you turned and crouched, holding your arms wide open for the incoming attack.

"Let me guess my little one, there's a big scary monster hunting you down and you know it won't try anything while your mammy is here?".

Green eyes looked at you with admiration before looking back through the door they had come from. Anticipating the moment when the figure hunting them down would appear.

"Yes! He's very big and scary! A meanie!".

Placing your hand over your mouth, you stifled a laugh at the obvious loudness from the young boy. He was egging the person inside on and you knew he loved every moment of it.

"Big and scary am I?".

The small scream from your son at the sudden surprise made you smile affectionately at the person responsible for it as you stood, picking up the young boy in your arms, placing him on your hip with a firm grip to make sure he didn't slip off in a moment.

"Quick mammy! Run, you can't let him get us".

Winking, you began to run off towards the door and around your home. Your giggles mixed excited squeals filled the space around you all, the game of cat and mouse lasting for a good hour before your little one grew tired.

Placing a gentle kiss in the mop of black locks, you smiled softly and pulled the blanket up covering the small figure. Double-checking he had everything he needed, you tip-toed out but not before you looked over your shoulder.

"Sweet dreams, my little mischief maker".

After walking down the stairs and reaching the bottom, you stretched slightly being careful not to hurt yourself too much. The gentle hum of the television in the background lulled you a little as you stepped through the door and over to the couch where your husband sat.

"He went down quicker than I thought this time around, you must have done a number in him with your appearing act love".

Sitting yourself down, you brought your legs up and lay down, your head resting on the lap of the man beside you. Fingers ran through your hair gently, eyes looking at you in what could be described as awe.

"Loki?".

Your voice brought him out of his thoughts as he looked down, a rare but genuine smile on his face. The one side of the God of Mischief you got to see for yourself.

"You know, (y/n), you're strong and beautiful, who would have thought you would have managed to calm me?".

Rolling your eyes playfully, you stuck your tongue out at him as you guided his hand down to your tummy, resting yours on top as his thumb ran over your slightly swollen figure.

"Hmmm... maybe it's because you can be quite persuasive when you want to be. That aside, it's because I love you~".

Looking up as you moved your head slightly, you reached your other hand up and cupped his face. Enjoying the quiet moment alone with your husband.

"~You're worth more to me than you'll ever know. I knew there was a reason I married you. Which I wouldn't change for anyone in all of the realms".

Unsure - b. barnes

a/n; welcome to my first piece of writing! this is from ‘aphrodisia’ which is found on both Wattpad & ao3. hope you enjoy!

pairing; winter soldier! bucky x gender neutral! reader

reblogs/feedback/likes are appreciated & encouraged. DO NOT repost/steal any of my works.

warnings; n/a

word count; 352

prompt based; “Can I kiss you?"

links; Marvel Materlist | Masterlist

© springismss - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

"Can I kiss you?".

Blinking in confusion for a moment, you tilted your head at the male in front of you as the words processed in your head. Had you heard right? Surely you hadn't. Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you. Humming out slightly, you held your hand out in front of you for him to take before stepping forward.

The eyes of the Soldat watched your movements carefully as he tried to assess the situation. Had he gone too far? Maybe he had moved too fast? Ever since he'd managed to escape the clutches of HYDRA with your help he had a hard time trying to gauge how both you and he felt.

He had spent so long being told to feel one way that anything other than what he was used to at a certain point was foreign, and he certainly didn't like it. Yet with a little coaxing, he began to accept that there were other feelings humans were meant to feel.

Super soldiers or not.

Lifting your free hand you turned his hand over, palm facing up as the pads of your fingers began to draw soothing circles on the rough skin. A content hum passed your lips as it turned into a calming tune. One you knew your Soldat would relax too.

"Kiska~".

The gentle smile that appeared on your face made Bucky fall in love with you all over again. Despite all the kills. The violence. The mind-numbing emptiness. He could always count on you no matter what.

"Moya Lyubov, you don't need to ask that~".

Gentle hands cupped a tired face as noses rubbed together. A small giggle of happiness slipping from the shorter of the two as the others arms encased you. One warm and soft while the other contrasted, cold and hard.

Breath fanned across soft lips, the Soldat taking the opportunity to look over your face. From the tiny curve of your lips to the almost invisible freckles that graced your skin, he loved how perfect you looked.

"My sweet Soldat, you can kiss me whenever you like~".

Dear Sergei Kravinoff fanfic writers,

DAYUM.

Love, im-tired-404 🫶🏻

Juno | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Male!Reader (SMUT😉)

A/N: Wow another Steve Rogers fic. Anyways this one is smut. Also this is my first ever attempt at writing smut so it's going to be really bad. So enjoy!

Title and plot (loosely) based off of Sabrina Carpenter's new song (stream the album btw or else):

Juno

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: I might let you make me Juno 😉

Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex

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“And then he said to me, ‘How about you change your dentures!’” A chorus of laughter erupted from around the table. Among the voices and chuckles was Y/N, sporting a fake laugh to hide the pain he was currently feeling on the inside. He so badly wanted to leave, thinking that laughing at whatever he was presented with would help pass the night. 

Y/N was an Avenger. He loved his job – no doubt. He loved being able to help people on a worldwide scale, and the overall idea of doing something that mattered. However, what Y/N didn’t realize was that the fine print of the Avenger’s contract included him forcefully being present at the annual U.S. Defence Symposium Convention, where diplomats and political leaders from around the globe gathered to discuss foreign affairs. While he never had to speak during these conventions, Y/N’s presence was required for Avengers PR reasons. Why it couldn’t be anyone else was a question he’d never find the answer to. Luckily for him, he wasn’t alone this year. Even better for him, he was with his lovely boyfriend.

Y/N glanced towards Steve at the other side of the circular table. Steve was already looking at him, wearing a similar bored expression. The two shared tired smiles. A positive that came with being Captain America’s boyfriend was intimate looks like these, shared across dinner tables, conference meetings, and other situations where they couldn’t be close. Looks and glances that made Y/N feel warm inside. No one else knew, even the team, of their clandestine relationship, afraid of the uproar that would come if it were to become public. The controversy that came with two of the United States’ defensive powerhouses dating – especially considering both were men – was something Y/N chose to think about rarely.

The senator continued his comedically-not-funny joke, and Y/N felt grey hairs growing. He knew he had to leave or he would’ve broken down in tears. As a guest speaker was about to be introduced, Y/N politely excused himself from the table and glanced towards Steve, his eyes already on him. He gave him a wink – a not-so-discrete signal they both came up with before arriving, loosely meaning, ‘I can’t handle this anymore and I need to get the fuck out of here – meet me in the bathroom.’ 

As he walked through the halls of the large venue, he marvelled at the grandness of the building where the convention was held. While he despised being there, he had to admit the building was architecturally and aesthetically pleasing, being more on the higher end of NYC establishments with its Art Deco-inspired assets. When Y/N made it to the bathroom, he checked beneath the stalls to see if anyone was present before letting out a loud groan. He knew he had to talk to Nick Fury later to discuss his supposedly mandatory attendance at the energy-draining convention. He couldn’t stand another second here. Leaning against the sink, he waited for Steve to arrive.

After about two minutes, the door to the washroom opened, and Y/N was met with Steve's presence. Steve raised his eyebrows, silently asking if anyone else was there, to which Y/N responded by shaking his head. “What did it, huh?” Steve asked, closing the door behind him.

“That geriatric senator, obviously – Senator Shortdick,” Y/N groaned. The senator’s name was actually in fact Dick – something Y/N’s immaturity found astoundingly hilarious. “His very long extended joke about…I don’t even know actually.” 

“He was talking about his son, Y/N,” Steve said, walking closer to the other man. “It was a nice story – very wholesome.” When Steve reached Y/N, he wrapped his arms around his waist before giving him a small peck. 

Y/N’s eyes met Steve’s, and they both gave each other reassuring smiles. They both desperately wanted to leave, but were aware they legally couldn’t.

“I don’t think I can handle this anymore, Steve,” Y/N’s voice whined, laying his head on Steve’s muscular chest, and caressing his sides. “I need something exciting.” Suddenly, as if he had an epiphany, Y/N conjured a devious idea to pass the time. Looking up at Steve, he gave him a half-lidded look, an action he did in jest whenever he wanted something from him. “We should fuck right now.” 

Steve only responded with a bewildered look, slowly shaking his head and reprimanding Y/N’s unsavoury suggestion. “We can’t, Y/N,” he said. “It’s too risky. Not to mention, distasteful – we’re in public.” Steve was the more rational person in their relationship, often taking Y/N’s outrageous ideas to heed.

“Why not, Stevie?” Y/N’s voice feigned softness and seductivity. “Isn’t it exciting,” he started, arms sliding up Steve’s clothed bicep. “The idea of getting caught here.” 

“Not really-.” Before Steve could continue, Y/N connected their lips. It started soft – short and sweet – before gradually getting more intense and feverish. Steve pushed the small of Y/N’s back closer, deepening the touch of their lips. Steve wanted Y/N badly, and Y/N was aware of that. He always knew that he had some type of figurative spell over Steve, causing him to be more acquiescent towards him than any other member of the team – even before they started dating. Steve was entirely bewitched by Y/N.

------------------------------------

The two eventually locked themselves in one of the bathroom stalls, lips already connected and moving together hungrily. Both prayed no toilet would come beckoning some diplomat’s bladder amidst their carnal moment together. As they continued face-fucking each other, Y/N trailed his hands down towards Steve’s pantsuit. He palmed Steve’s already present bulge, rubbing it with the soles of his hand and causing a quiet whimper to leave Steve’s mouth. At hearing Steve’s sultry noise, Y/N felt his cock growing harder and heavier.

Y/N broke their lips’ ravenous movement and began unbuttoning Steve’s tux. “I saw you practically ogling me in there.” He bit one of Steve’s sensitive spots on his neck, eliciting a low groan from his throat. “It’s like you were begging to fuck me with your fuck-me eyes.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve panted in response. 

“Stay oblivious then, Stevie.” Y/N slipped Steve’s suit off, revealing his muscled buff chest. Not even a second later, Y/N’s mouth began trailing down Steve’s torso. He peppered kisses all over Steve’s chest, going further and further down until he was on his knees. Y/N came face-to-face with Steve’s growing bulge. He salivated, thinking about taking Steve’s entire cock in one go – the idea of hearing Steve’s whimpers made his dick even firmer.

Steve’s gaze was locked on Y/N. His eyes were half-closed, face flushed with both lust and pleasure. Y/N then unbuttoned Steve’s pants before taking them off which revealed Steve’s undergarments. Without sparing another moment, Y/N yanked Steve’s boxers off. Steve’s cock, upon being unclothed, sprung upwards and ached in the cold bathroom air. It begged for attention that Y/N’s mouth was more than willing to give. A slight droplet of precum was already at the slit which made Y/N even more aroused. Not wanting Steve to finish quickly (as if that is even a problem with his serum-induced stamina), Y/N started slow. He gave Steve’s shaft one long lick at the base, relishing the semi-salty taste. Y/N continued licking, throwing occasional glances towards Steve and how he was reacting. The quiet whimpering coming out of Steve’s mouth was evident he wanted – needed more. “Just please take it all, Y/N,” he quietly whined.

Y/N chuckled. He decided Steve had been good tonight and, sparing him from further punishment, took his entire cock in his mouth. A loud moan erupted from Steve to which he quickly clamped his hand over his mouth to silence. Y/N had to adjust to Steve’s size for a moment before doing anything further. Despite having done this several times, Y/N always thought Steve’s dick was maybe too big for him. This wasn’t that much of a problem for him as while he did struggle in throating it, it did make his ass feel good. And very sore afterwards. After a brief moment, Y/N began to slowly move his head up and down Steve’s cock. Steve struggled to quiet down his noises of pleasure as much as Y/N struggled trying not to choke. With each movement of Y/N’s head, Steve was hitting the back of his throat which sent a wave of pleasure down his spine. Steve, however, wanted much more.

To Y/N’s shock, Steve bundled his hands in his H/C locks and shoved him further down his throat. Y/N’s eyes went wide, gagging noises coming from his clogged mouth. Before Y/N could steady himself, Steve began ramming his throat at a rapid speed, his attempt to quiet himself vanishing as he prioritized quickly getting off with Y/N’s mouth. As Steve continued at his pace, he let out breathy moans that were amplified and reverbed by the bathroom’s walls. While Steve was in pure bliss at his cock being serviced, Y/N was not able to cope with the sudden change. His hands were placed on both of Steve’s thighs, trying to steady himself. Tears pricked near the corner of his eyes as his entire buccal cavity and throat continued being ransacked by Steve’s length. Each time Steve’s cock hit the rear of his throat, Steve shuddered and Y/N gagged loudly. As Steve began nearing his climax, he began to go even quicker than his initial speed, causing Y/N’s tears to freefall down his cheeks. With one loud grunt and a sloppy thrust, Steve came down Y/N’s throat. As Y/N felt the warm and salty fluid trail down his throat, Steve’s breaths became more shallow.

Steve leaned against the stall’s door, and a slick ‘pop’ sounded as he took his cock out of Y/N’s mouth. He was still recovering from his orgasm as Y/N quickly got up from his knees and roughly pushed his chest. “Dude!’ Y/N half-yelled. “What the fuck was that? You nearly killed me!”

Steve staggered slightly at Y/N’s hit. He looked at Y/N with a confused expression that quickly vanished upon seeing his tear-stained cheeks. An apologetic look promptly dawned. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine it’s just,” Y/N said while wiping his face, “you have to warn me first before you do that.” 

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.” Steve did look remorseful. His face looked as if he had accidentally kicked a dog. “We should probably stop now.”

Y/N gave looked at him incredulously. “Are you kidding me?” He pointed sternly towards Steve, his voice coming out furious with a tinge of playfulness. “The only apology I’ll accept now is if you fuck me right here.”

“But, Y/N, I don’t have the…” Steve’s voice trailed off.

“The what, Steve?”

“You know,” Steve said, face slightly pink. “The wet thing and the rubber thing?”

An actual genuine look of bewilderment made its way onto Y/N’s face. “You mean condoms and lube?” Steve nodded shyly and Y/N began to laugh. “Steve, you just pounded my face in. Don’t give me any shit about you being too coy to say the words ‘condom’ and ‘lube’.” He then glanced down towards Steve’s penis which was already erect again. “Plus, your thing,” he continued, mocking Steve’s mannerisms, “still looks pretty wet from my spit. And as far as I remember, none of us have any diseases.” Y/N quickly looked towards Steve. “Right?” Steve nodded his head quickly, still too embarrassed to respond. Before Steve could do anything further, Y/N took his pants off alongside his underwear. “You’re already hard again, Steve. What are you gonna do 'bout it?”

Y/N’s teasing tone evoked Steve’s earlier confidence, leading to him hoisting Y/N around his waist, a quick yelp coming out of Y/N at the sudden movement. Before Y/N could say anything, Steve hastily prevented him by connecting their lips. Their tongues quickly tangled together, saliva combining and becoming indistinguishable from one another. “Steve, just put it in already, God.” Y/N’s voice came out breathy and unstable. Steve obeyed quicker than usual, seemingly eager to come a second time that night. Grabbing his cock with one hand and supporting Y/N with the other, he angled it towards Y/N's gaping hole. Without wasting any more time, Steve promptly thrust the entirety of his length inside of Y/N. A filthy ludicrous whine came from Y/N’s throat. His prostate was already being reached by Steve’s tip, causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head. He was euphoric and as Steve started moving, his speed matching that of earlier, Y/N felt like he ascended. 

Steve was usually gentle whenever they had sex, but he decided to spare no mercy tonight. His thrusts were aggressive, leaving Y/N unable to handle the surplus of pleasure he was feeling. With each graze felt by his prostate, he was sent further into the heavenly bliss he felt. “H-have you seen that one movie,” Y/N said in between heavy pants. “Juno?” He knew it was a stupid question, both in the situation he asked it in, and how he knew Steve had barely seen anything made in the 21st century.

Steve continued thrusting into Y/N, the sound of their skin slapping reverberating around the room. “No – fuck,” Steve’s voice came out breathless. “What is that?” His face was contorting into different variations of lewd expressions, making Y/N’s hard-on even stiffer. It was rare to see the Captain America in such a vulnerable state, and Y/N savoured the fact he was the only person who was able to see him like this. 

The pleasure Y/N felt inside of him was indescribable. Their fucking had never reached this level of catharsis. “Nothing – it doesn’t matter. Just keep going, Steve…please…” Y/N saw the little dribble of precum dripping from his cock. He was close. And Y/N knew Steve was too from how his pounds started becoming sloppier, and how his hands gripped his ass tighter. Their lips found each other again, and their tongues connected. Steve swallowed all of Y/N’s whimpers, biting his lower lip to prevent any would-be passersby from hearing his erotic gasps for air. 

“I’m gonna come, Y/N,” Steve breathlessly spoke. His pacing started to decline, and his entire body trembled. 

As Steve was about to endure another orgasm, Y/N saw him about to pull out. Suddenly, he protested with a hoarse sigh, “No, Steve, just finish inside me – it’s fine.” Steve nodded his head silently, not needing to be told twice. Their pants continued syncing together as Steve rode out his climax. Another load of his hot white cream exited him and filled Y/N to the brim. Shortly after Steve finished, Y/N felt his climax coming in. Steve continued floppily thrusting to aid in his release, soon releasing in thick ribbons that covered his and Steve’s chests. 

------------------------------------

Steve gently collapsed both of their bodies on the ground. The pair were in a state of exhausted pleasure, their breaths still deep and frequent. It stayed this way for a few minutes – Steve and Y/N basking in the decline of their orgasms in a comfortable silence. Y/N glanced down towards his ass, a tad icked out by Steve’s jizz pouring out of him. “It’s kind of gross isn’t it,” he said to Steve. 

Steve was broken out of his euphoric trance upon hearing Y/N’s voice. “What is?” He said, still catching his breath.

“Look,” Y/N signalled to his downward area. “It looks really strange.” The pair’s eyes met and they both erupted in boisterous laughter. 

As they started quieting down from what they considered the funniest thing of that night, Steve suddenly remembered what Y/N asked earlier. “Hey, what was it with that movie you asked me about earlier.”

“Juno?” Y/N responded.

“Yeah, that one.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Y/N said, getting uncharacteristically shy. “I just thought…it’d be nice if we have kids one day.” Y/N then realized what he said and began doubling down. “I mean, that is if you want any with me at all – children I mean. A family.”

Steve didn’t say anything. Instead, he smiled at Y/N, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. Y/N responded by giving him a meek smile. They both were met with another silence, their love-laced gazes filling each other with a comforting warmth. 

“How are we gonna get out of here, Steve?” Y/N’s voice came out softly, too absorbed in the moment to genuinely care about where they were.

“Now that is the predicament, isn’t it?” Steve said, reciprocating Y/N’s blissful voice.

Fortunately, it was evident that luck was on their side that night as no one had entered the bathroom at any point in their love-making.

FIN

A/N: My Google searches are legit “Synonyms for ‘cock’ in fanfiction”, “Synonyms for ‘moaning’ in fanfiction”, “Synonyms of ‘cum’ in fanfiction”, and “How to write smut properly.” Anyways, hope you enjoyed whatever that mess was!

The Love Letter | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Male!Reader

A/N: Another Steve Rogers fanfic because he is a cutie. This one is way shorter than my first fic and not the best writing I've done admittedly. Anyways, enjoy!

P.S. Stream Short n' Sweet by Sabrina Carpenter 💋

The Love Letter

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Y/N, too afraid to verbally confess his feelings for Steve, gives him a love letter instead

Warnings: Sad

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Natasha stared bewildered at Y/N, aggressively punching the boxing dummy in the team's training room. With each continuous whack, growing strength with each successive hit, the dent in the dummy's torso grew larger. Natasha observed that he only acted this vehemently if something was bothering him. The last time this occurred was after a botched mission that resulted in numerous accidental deaths and tonnes of paperwork. As Y/N began winding down from his strenuous training, Natasha approached him, already having a slight idea for the cause of his trouble.

“It’s Steve isn’t it?” she abruptly asked. 

Y/N glanced towards her with a questioning look. “I’m sorry?”

“You like him, but you’re too scared to tell him.”

Y/N stared at her, trying to maintain a look that conveyed he was completely unsure as to what she was on about. However, he soon cracked under the pressure of her intense piercing gaze and gave her a resigned look. Sighing, he said, “Was I that obvious?”

"Y/N, we all see the way you ogle him." Y/N's jaw slightly clenched at his obliviousness to his obvious crushing. "The whole team knows, and I wouldn't be surprised if Steve himself did too."

Y/N let out a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair. He always hated Natasha’s cunning observational skills. But he was aware this time his long-term crush was exposed at his fault. “I just don’t know how to tell him. I mean, what if he doesn’t feel the same?”

Natasha lightly placed her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re not going to ruin anything by telling him. There’s nothing wrong with being honest. Plus, there could be the chance he likes you also.”

Y/N’s head shook slightly. “I’m not sure how to tell him without completely embarrassing myself in front of him.”

Natasha’s expression turned deep with thought. Then, the metaphorical light bulb lit up in her head. "Maybe you should write him a letter. That way nothing you’ll say will be misconstrued. It's the most objective way to say your feelings for him, Y/N."

Y/N glanced towards Natasha, unaware if she was serious or saying everything in jest. "Wouldn't it be easier if I sent him a text message?"

Natasha shook her head. "Letters are more romantic. Plus, Steve is old-fashioned. I'm sure he'd appreciate it more than some lacklustre text."

As Natasha left the training grounds, Y/N began thinking deeply about her suggestion. He never imagined telling Steve about his feelings, let alone confessing through a handwritten letter. The worse that could occur, he thought, was that Steve would reject him and the entire trajectory of any friendship they had would completely change beyond recognition. However, the idea of Steve being whisked away by anyone else was enough to fill him with dread. He couldn't have a repeat of his emotions during Steve's brief fling with Sharon Carter. Tear-dampened tissues filled his room the week he heard the news – he reached a new low during that time. After his shower in the gym's adjacent locker room, Y/N began devising what he would say and how exactly he would say it.

Walking back to his room, Y/N made a brief detour to one of Tony's several printers scattered around the compound to grab several sheets of paper. He was already anticipating the inevitable drafts that would end up in his garbage bin. As he sat on his desk, cracking his knuckles before putting pen to paper, he hoped whatever monstrosity he would conjure would convey his feelings in a way that Steve would fully reciprocate them.

------------------------------------

After three hours and several tossed crumpled balls of paper in his garbage, Y/N finally created what he thought was the best thing he had ever written. Skimming through it again, he started thinking otherwise and that it was actually really bad. The letter read:

Steve,

I've been thinking a lot lately, and I finally decided I needed to air it out. Natasha suggested writing you a letter, and honestly, I was hesitant at first. But the more I considered it, I realised it was the only suitable option for this situation. I know you're not the type for overly grand gestures, so I'll keep it simple.

Ever since we met, I've been admiring you. Not just for the reason that you're Captain America, but also for what I've seen in who you are as a person. Your kindness, bravery, strength, and dedication amongst many more of your qualities are things I've come to deeply respect. Over time, these feelings I felt for you have grown from something more than admiration – something I never expected.

I've tried to hide it, but I'm not sure I can anymore. I like you, Steve. I really like you a lot, as more than a friend. I know you've been through a lot, so I don't want any of this to complicate you any further. I just needed to tell you how I feel. I value the friendship we have, and I don't want this to negatively change that.

I understand if you don't feel the same way. If you'd prefer it, we could both pretend I never wrote you this. But if there is a chance you feel the same, maybe we could both see where this goes. No pressure, no expectations – just honesty.

Y/N

After rereading it for the fifth time, Y/N decided this was the best it would get. If Steve hated it, then so be it. Y/N put the letter in a sleek dark brown envelope from a stationary set he bought earlier from a high-end arts and crafts store. Since it was for Steve, he had splurged on whatever he could in hopes it would convey the seriousness of his feelings.

As Y/N walked towards Steve’s room, a feeling of severe anxiety washed over him, causing him to fidget with the letter between his fingers. The outcomes of the letter-sending were so polar that he wasn’t sure if his feelings were worth the chance. On one hand, Steve would feel the same and both would live happily ever after. On the other, Steve would downright reject him, their friendship would be destroyed, and the awkwardness would find a way to infiltrate its way into the team, getting in the way of their world-saving. 

Steve’s door came into view, and the urge to turn around and leave became stronger for Y/N. Before Y/N could back down, he heard footsteps descending the hallway’s corner. After quickly slipping the letter under the door frame, Y/N ran in the opposite direction. Whatever was to ensue after was up in the hands of whichever deity was out there.

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The team assembled for dinner shortly after Y/N’s letter made it to Steve’s room. As he sat in his designated spot beside Natasha, his hands started becoming clammy, and his head became nauseous with worrying thoughts. Steve has yet to arrive at the table. Coughing lightly, Y/N turned towards Natasha. 

“I did it, Nat.” Y/N quivered softly. 

“Did what, Y/N/N?” She said in between her chewing.

“I sent him the letter. Earlier this evening, I sent him the letter. God, I can’t believe I listened to you.”

Natasha turned her head, eyes wide in disbelief. Before she could respond, Steve walked into the dining room. The team greeted him, including Y/N whose voice wavered slightly upon seeing the man he so recently confessed his feelings for. Steve’s eyes wandered around the table until they stopped on Y/N. The two looked at each other, and Y/N’s stomach churned. He tried to read Steve’s expression, but it was indistinguishable. As his heart pounded, his hands trembled under the table. 

Natasha slightly nudged Y/N with her elbow. “Relax, Y/NN. Just see how he acts.”

Y/N nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. As Steve approached the table, he pulled the chair directly in front of Y/N, sitting down with a small smile. “Hey, everyone,” Steve greeted, his voice soft and supple, smiling brightly at the team. 

Y/N managed to contort a crooked smile in return. “Hi, Steve.” His voice wavered once again and his cheeks blushed. He looked down towards his plate in hopes no one noticed.

As the team continued with their conversation – Bruce and Tony bantering about lab tech, Thor sharing a story about Asgard, and Clint making sarcastic remarks near the table’s end – Y/N kept glancing towards. Steve looked relaxed, but every so often, his eyes would also meet Y/N’s, and Y/N’s stomach would be sent into a spiral of front flips. 

At one point, Steve met Y/N’s gaze and held it for longer than usual. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. He knew at that point that Steve must have read the letter. There was no other reason for the glances they shared with each other, and the slight glint of something in Steve’s eyes. He could already sense the inevitable conversation Steve was about to confront him with in the not-so-distant future.

Dinner continued, and eventually, the team started to disperse. As for Y/N, his heart sank as he remembered it was his turn to wash the dishes today. Today of all days. Even more troubling, Steve had volunteered behind to help with cleaning. Y/N already knew where this was going to lead. With one last glance at Natasha who offered him a reassuring smile, it was just Y/N and Steve left together.

------------------------------------

The kitchen was dead silent as the two men cleared the table, the clinking of dishes and the sound of running water from the sink being the only interruption. Y/N could feel Steve’s presence beside him – comforting and warm, but tonight it felt different. Heavy. He couldn’t conjure the courage to look at him, instead focusing on aggressively rubbing a stubborn stain on one of the plates.

Finally, after what like an eternity, Steve finally broke the silence. “Y/N,” he said, his voice carrying a certain softness that made Y/N’s heart beat faster. “About the letter…”

Y/N froze, squeezing the sponge in his hand hard. He knew this was bound to happen, but hearing Steve’s voice mention his letter still made him incredibly nervous. Slowly, he turned towards Steve, ready for whatever he was about to be hit with. “Yeah?” he managed to whisper, his voice barely managing to make it above a whisper.

Steve fully turned towards Y/N, setting down the dish he was currently drying and meeting his eyes. His expression was serious, and his blue eyes were holding a feeling Y/N couldn’t decipher – nervousness, maybe, or regret. “I read it,” he said quietly. “And I want you to know that I’m honoured that you trust me enough to share your feelings with me. I really am.”

Y/N’s heart clenched. He felt the impending doom through Steve’s tone. Y/N nodded slowly, attempting to keep his emotions in check. “But…?”

Steve took a deep breath, he turned away briefly before meeting Y/N’s eyes again. “But I don’t feel the same way,” he said, voice firm but soft. “I care about you a lot, Y/N, as a friend. I value our friendship and I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t see you the same way as you see me.”

Y/N’s felt his heart shatter, the pieces were spiralling into a million jagged edges. The pain was worse than anything he experienced. It felt worse than any gunshot or stab wound he ever endured. “I understand,” he said. It was evident he was trying to hold back tears. “I just thought… maybe…”

Steve’s hand hovered above Y/N’s. He hesitated before retracting it, unsure if Y/N wanted to be touched or not. “I really am sorry, Y/N. I don’t want to make this awkward between us. I value our friendship too much for that.”

Y/N could only nod again. His chest swelled with a numbing feeling. He then realised what the glint was in Steve’s eyes. It was pity. “Yeah, no I totally understand,” he muttered. He stared at the soapy water. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was stupid – I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Steve said gently. “It was not stupid at all. You have every right to express your feelings. I’m just sorry I couldn’t give you the answer you were looking for, Y/N.”

Y/N could feel the tears pooling near the ducts of his eyes. The weight of the rejection fully settled on his shoulders. “Yeah well…thank you for being honest. I appreciate it, I guess,” he whispered, turning back to the dishes to hide the tears now streaming down his cheeks. He scrubbed at the plates more force than necessary, trying to channel to pain he was feeling towards his hands. 

Steve hesitated. It was clear he wanted to say more, but he could tell Y/N wanted him to leave. “I really am sorry, Y/N.”

Y/N couldn’t trust himself to speak again, afraid his voice would hint at the tears leaving his eyes. After a brief moment of silence, he could hear Steve’s footsteps retracting from the kitchen.

When he was sure Steve was gone, Y/N let out a shaky breath before letting his tears fall freely. He gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles turning white in an attempt to hold himself together. But it was to no avail. He slid down to the floor, back against the kitchen sink. The pain was too raw to hold in. As he buried his head in his hands, he sobbed and prayed that no one would walk in and see his miserable self.

He was fully prepared for the possibility of rejection. But everything in him was hoping Steve would feel the same. That the future he envisioned for both of them together would become real somehow. The heartache he felt was unbearable, and each breath he took was a struggle as he attempted to calm himself down. Was he not good enough for Steve? Was he not attractive enough? Y/N started internally beating himself, trying to find the reason he wasn’t desirable for the only person he could ever want.    

Minutes passed, maybe hours; Y/N wasn’t sure. Eventually, the tears started slowing down and his breathing became more shallow. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand, taking a few shaky breaths before standing up. He knew he had to pick himself up and move on. But for now, Y/N could let himself wallow in his grief. 

As he walked back to his room, he couldn’t help but think if he could ever face Steve without breaking all over again. 

FIN

A/N: Sorry! Hope you enjoyed! Next one will be cute as fuck I didn't enjoy writing this one that much actually it didn't fill me with happy giddy feelings.

Sober Thoughts | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Stark!Male!Reader

REUPLOAD A/N: Hi. It is currently 12:41 AM – another restless night unfortunately sigh. After watching a YouTube video of someone reading the infamous Harry Potter fanfiction My Immortal (I love you Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way), I became filled with unbridled inspiration to write something of my own. Anyways, enjoy! Also this is the very first fanfiction I’ve ever written. Please please please (by Sabrina Carpenter) give constructive feedback that won’t be too harsh on my little soul. This’ll be a fluffy fanfic. I'll dabble in smut later on maybe if y'all enjoy this enough...teehee. Happy BRAT summer/autumn 💚

P.S. Any errors you see will be excused by the fact English is not my first language and NOT because I suck at writing and revising ;) This fic will also be posted on Ao3 after they accept my invitation. Pls let me in Ao3.

Sober Thoughts

Word count: 4.7k

Summary: Y/N gets very drunk in front of Steve

Warnings: Alcohol, profanity

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Being the son of Pepper Potts and the eccentric billionaire, playboy and philanthropist (in that exact order) Tony Stark came with its fair share of drawbacks. While financial security was a given for Y/N, a side that came with this coverage was endless PR events. Being the sole heir to the Stark company, Y/N was forcefully thrusted into the public eye at a very young age, constantly forced to appear at social gatherings for the general public to gain somewhat of a perception of him – hopefully for the better. Today was one of these socially exhausting days, and perhaps his least favourite event of all – the annual ‘Stark Gala: proceeds going to various charities!’ A boring name he is very well aware of, and yes the ‘proceeds going to various charities’ line was annoyingly part of the title – something he had so valiantly fought Tony on, albeit unsuccessfully. 

The gala starts in 2 hours. Currently, in stereotypical Stark fashion, Y/N lay sedentary on his bed, staring at the ceiling whilst pondering for ways to escape the tiring event. Amidst his angsty mood, a knock arose from his door followed by Tony entering his room. 

“Hey bud, no more moping around,” he said after flipping the light switch in Y/N's room, “gala’s not gonna dance itself.”

Y/N turned and laid on his belly, eyes stuffed into his pillow in an attempt to suppress the bright lights, “What if I just don’t come, dad? Just chalk my absence to a cold for the press, please. I have no will nor strength to do this.” 

“You know you can’t do that, Y/N/N. The public requests you grace them with your holy presence at the gala.”

“Dad, what if I just set fire to the venue?”

Tony scoffed at his son's comment. “Don’t bother with that sassy attitude, kid. It’ll be over in a flash. Just enjoy, grab some drinks – and hey you might even find yourself a nice date there.” He said, adjusting a frame on the wall. “My best advice is mingle until your mouth falls off – my dad used to say that to me.” 

As Tony continued slightly tidying Y/N's room, a muffled groan erupted from his pillow. Y/N knew he was very well right; there was no escaping. Resigning to his fate, he abruptly stood up from his bed and began rummaging through his closet. “Fine. I’m going because I want to go, not because you’re forcing me to.”

Tony chuckled and ruffled Y/N's hair. “That’s the spirit, champ. I promise you these things can be fun if you let them. Soak up the atmosphere. And enjoy the drinks.” He then murmured, “Just not too much, as well ‘cause…you know.” 

Tony’s sudden shift in tone was in reference to Y/N's relationship with alcohol. While Tony was notorious for being able to hold his liquor, the alcohol-tolerance gene had unfortunately not been passed down to his son. The last time Y/N drank, which had been at Clint’s birthday party, he had somehow woken up inside of a dumpster – not even exaggerating. Another time, he had taken a plane to Washington and found himself passed out on a bench outside the Pentagon – also not a hyperbole. Aware of this knowledge, Y/N planned on getting absolutely wasted in order to pass the time and to make the night somewhat memorable. 

Y/N ran a hand through his hair attempting to fix it whilst looking for proper attire. “Yes, yes I know, father figure. Do you promise it won’t be boring like last year?”

Tony feigned an offended look, putting his palm against his chest. “Boring? There was an open bar and a chocolate fountain – all appearing again this year, by the way. What more could a man ask for?”

“To not come.” Y/N said begrudgingly.

“Okay well sometimes certain things can’t be provided, sugar plum.” A grimace found itself on Y/N's face after hearing the nickname. Before he could respond, Tony was already halfway through the door. “Anyways, be ready by 8; we’re leaving at 8:30 sharp.”

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The night was, to say the least, already an absolute dread. Upon arriving at the upper-echelon-esque museum where the gala was being held, Y/N was already drained. After exiting the limousine that took both him and Tony to the museum, a torrent of camera flashes had blinded Y/N. Furthermore, before even entering the museum, a news reporter had shoved a microphone into his face and asked a very invasive question about his lovelife. Before Y/N could insult the reporter’s rude behaviour, Tony quickly grabbed his arm and ushered him into the museum. 

It was very well aware by the public of Y/N's choice of abstaining from dating, never really having any serious relationships. This was especially questionable for the public considering who his father was, with everyone believing Y/N would’ve followed in lieu of his behaviour during his 20’s. 

However, what the public didn’t know was that the reason for Y/N's singleness was because of one of his dad’s blonde colleagues (that wasn’t Thor). Y/N's crush for  Steve Rogers AKA Captain America had simmered for the last few months. It began during an incident in the Avenger’s Compound in which the inherent Stark idiocy had decided to bite Y/N severely in the ass.

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It had been late at night and Y/N had been tinkering on some project in one of Tony’s spare workshops in the compound when his phone suddenly rang. Picking it up, he saw Tony was calling him. He paused the music blaring in the workshop’s speakers before answering his dad. 

“Hey bud, I have a favour to ask.”

“What is it, father figure?” He set down a screwdriver he was holding down on the workshop table.

“First, you know I hate it when you call me that. Second, there are some files that were delivered to my office that need to be put into storage in the room beside the training area. Would you mind doing it for me?”

“And why can’t you get Happy or yourself to do it?”

“Well I am actually currently at dinner right now with your mother and we are having a blast right now, and Happy is enjoying a paid holiday in the Bahamas.” 

With an overexaggerated sigh, Y/N hung up on Tony and accepted without further question. 

Heading towards Tony’s office, he marvelled at the emptiness of the Avenger’s Compound. While he never interacted much with the Avengers, only in passing, he was aware that some of them were nightowlers. However, there really was no one. Usually, there would be at least a SHIELD agent somewhere, but tonight the building was completely desolate. 

Upon arriving at Tony’s office, Y/N immediately noticed the large boxes propped on his dad's desk. He had clearly underestimated the sizes of the office boxes, with one he (very dramatically) guesstimated being the size of his torso’s length with a width of a baby whale. Unfortunately for him, there were 5 boxes in total. Being the impatient ass he is, he had decided to carry all of the boxes in one go to spare himself having to return to Tony’s office for a second trip. He noticeably struggled and after leaving Tony’s office, he immediately regretted his decision, wishing he inherited more of his mother’s patience. From a bystander's perspective, it was a comical sight seeing Y/N Stark carrying a tower of boxes almost twice his height. 

After rounding a sharp corner – something that could’ve been easily avoided considering the size of the building’s hallways – Y/N  crashed right into another person. Y/N, along with the boxes, crashed loudly and painfully against the cement floor. 

"Shit," Y/N said out loud. The embarrassment from the predicament was too much for him, so he opted for keeping his eyes on the ground, seemingly becoming very interested in the flooring's designed patterns. He stayed in that position, wallowing in his shame until the other person he had forgotten about spoke up.

"Sorry about that, kid." A low and husky voice spoke above Y/N. Y/N moved his eyes from the floor to the other man in the hallway. He was met with piercing blue eyes and a head of light blonde hair. Great. Not only had he embarrassed himself in front of someone, but that certain someone had to be Captain America of all people. Flashing the best smile he could conjure, Y/N stood up from the floor in an attempt to save as much face as possible.

"No, no, it was all my fault Steve," Y/N chirped. Wow, he sounded like a complete wimp. Not only that, but he called Captain America by his actual legal government name. Y/N did not consider himself close enough to call Captain America Steve. The situation was further going off the rails as they both stood in an uncomfortable silence for what seemed like forever. Suddenly, Steve spoke again, breaking the suffocating air of awkwardness.     

"Need help with those." Steve said, smiling slightly at Y/N. Thinking back on it now, it was definitely the smile that got Y/N hooked into Steve. With a curt nod, both of the men started cleaning the mess of files. "Do these need to be in a specific order?" Steve questioned. Quite frankly, Y/N did not care for the files' order; he was much more preoccupied with the strange feeling down in his stomach. He slapped himself internally before answering Steve.

"I'm not sure actually. The person reading these can decipher that themself." Steve chuckled at his words. An actual, genuine laugh. Y/N found whatever he said to not be as funny Steve was making it out to be. But nevertheless, good job Y/N! You made Captain America laugh at something you said! After tidying the files, the two of them started walking, Y/N in the lead with Steve following in his stead. 

"Where to, Stark Jr.?"  

"The storage room by the training grounds."

The walk to the files' designated area was filled with silence – not uncomfortable like before, but instead a somewhat pleasant quiet. Deciding to be bold, Y/N asked Steve a question.

"What do you do all day?" Wow, Y/N didn't intend on that sounding as rude as it did. 

"What do you mean?" Steve responded.

"Like, what do you do when there isn't a mission where you have to save the world or anything." Great save, Y/N said to himself.

"Well, if there isn't a mission I usually train in the gym – nothing bad in doing some extra training. Other than that, I usually visit SHIELD's headquarters to do business that I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." He turned and smiled at Y/N after saying the last part. The strange feeling was there again.

"That honestly sounds like a miserable existence."  Y/N said. Steve laughed and Y/N smiled, proud of himself for making Captain America laugh a second time this night. "Do you have any actual free time at all?"

"The only time we get to ourselves are weekends. I typically go for jogs in the morning then catch up on any work I didn't get to finish from the weekday. By the time I finish, it's already pretty late at night." As Steve continued to talk, Y/N couldn't help but sneak glances at him. Y/N had noticed a smile was etched on Steve's face and he wondered if it was because Steve enjoyed his company or if he was merely entertained by their topic of conversation. "If I have any time to spare, I like to draw. I've started taking painting classes recently."  

Y/N debated on whether or not to make a joke about Steve's work and him not "finishing" fast enough, but thought it was too weird even for him. "Wow, even on your day off your life sounds bland – aside from the drawing part I guess." Steve had laughed once more at what Y/N said, and Y/N silently applauded himself once again.   

Steve's smile persisted despite Y/N's slight insult to his daily life. "My turn to ask. What do you do all day? I never see you around that much." 

"That's 'cause I'm usually cooped up in a lab somewhere doing tech stuff I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." Steve chuckled again. "If I'm not doing techy stuff, then I'm usually doing boring paperwork for Stark industries. And if I'm not doing that, I'm sleeping peacefully in my bed."

"Now I'm offended by you calling my life bland when yours’ is equally as boring, Y/N," Steve joked.

"It'd be more exciting if you were in it." Oh Y/N, what exactly are you saying now? Suddenly, the signature Stark flirtiness accumulated within Y/N as the next words left his lips. "You should join me on my bed sometime." Oh sweet Jesus. Even Y/N himself shriveled from pure disgust at what he just said. It wasn't even a remotely good pickup line. He fully expected Steve to bolt away as soon as possible and leave him behind with the behemoth-sized boxes.   

Before Steve could respond, the pair found themselves in front of the storage room. Steve opened the door for Y/N who could only mumble a quiet thanks in response as he was still shaken up from his earlier misspeaking. Finding a secluded table in the room, Y/N set down the boxes with Steve following in suit. The two then exited the room and found themselves in yet again another uncomfortable silence. Before Y/N could hurriedly escape, Steve spoke.  

"You should get out of your lab more. I'd like to see more of you around if that's possible." Upon hearing that, the feeling from earlier was present again in Y/N's stomach except it had been exponentially stronger this time. "I enjoyed talking with you, Y/N."  

It was as if Y/N had lost any inkling of social awareness as he said his next remark. "You'd practically have to pry me off a workbench with those big arms of yours, Steve."  

Steve only laughed in response, clearly somewhat amused by Y/N's bold eccentricity. "I'll see you around, Y/N." Steve started walking away before suddenly turning around with a smirk on his mouth. "Oh, and I'll take you up on that earlier offer." 

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Ironically enough, Y/N and Steve have yet to converse with each other again after their brief encounter. This was mainly due to Y/N avoiding Steve after having said his embarrassing comments – especially about Steve's arms, something Y/N can't help but gag at upon reflection. Looking back at their moment together, Y/N can only sigh and hope the super soldier forgot about his humiliating behaviour. 

Looking around the museum, Y/N stared in awe at the inside's appearance. The building itself had replicated the architecture and grandeur of Ancient Greece, with large columns on the building's interior and exterior. While the building itself was an architectural beauty, what really stood out were the floral decorations garnered around the room, both on the tables surrounding the middle of the museum designated as a dance floor and hanging in between the interior pillars. Y/N had to remind himself to find his mother later, who arrived hours earlier to help decorate, and commend her keen taste in floral arrangements. 

Y/N's moment taking in the interior decor was interrupted when he was approached by Tony and a stubby man wearing a suit. Tony introduced the man to Y/N who turned out to be one of Stark Industries' business partners. Nothing notable was said in their conversation aside from numbers and Y/N's vision for the future of Stark Industries. This was how the first half of the night went: Tony introduced Y/N to one of his business partners, boring conversations about logistics would ensue, Y/N was asked about his ideas on Stark Industries' future – rinse and repeat. After numerous runs of this seemingly perpetual cycle, Y/N's social battery had been absolutely drained and Operation Get-Drunk-And-Pass-Out was set in motion. Excusing himself from Tony's presence, Y/N ran a beeline towards the bar, his stride swift with determination to get his hands on anything alcoholic.

Taking a seat at the bar, Y/N began thinking about what he would drink. Suddenly forgetting every alcoholic beverage that ever existed, he waved down the bartender to get his first drink of the night. "I'd like whatever will get me the most piss-faced, please." The bartender simply gave him a cordial smile and nod before pouring a single clear liquid into a small shot glass. He then gave Y/N the glass who before drinking said, "bottoms up." The mystery liquid was absolutely repulsive and scorched Y/N's throat. His face puckered up in pain, eyes shut as tears formed at the brim of his ducts. "Jesus, dude, what is this!?"

"Everclear." The man answered with a very thick Russian accent. Y/N had no idea what that was nor was aware of its very high alcoholic percentage, almost being pure alcohol.  What he did know was the vile taste and painful burn signified it was able to get him 100% wasted. 

"I'll take 10 more of those, please."

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At shot four, Y/N's vision had started getting blurry, his lips and skin felt tingly, and he kept laughing at the most nonsensical things to laugh at. His drunkenness was made very apparent for everyone at the bar when he pointed towards someone's poorly trimmed goatee and laughed maniacally at it. While his actions had been in poor-taste and he was making a grand fool of himself, Y/N could care less as he revelled with his newly acquainted friend, Everclear. 

Before downing shot number five, a man had approached and sat beside Y/N and began ordering. To his surprise, Captain America in the flesh had situated himself beside him at the bar. Knowing Y/N's already embarrassing encounter with him sober, only God knows what was about to ensue between the two of them while he was intoxicated. 

“Enjoying the night, Mr. America?” Y/N slurred. 

“Clearly not as much as you, Y/N.” Steve responded. He was currently sporting a classic black and white tux with a dark blue tie. His attire, while as basic and stereotypical as they come for a formal event, suited him perfectly. Being the idiot Y/N was while drunk, the spike of confidence that surged within him caused him to comment on Steve's appearance.

Y/N leaned towards Steve, getting very close in his personal space, then saying, “apologies, Captain, but you sure do look ravishing if I do say so myself. I’m proud to be an American.” Y/N giggled at himself while Steve looked at him with an amused expression. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re flirting with me, Y/N.” Steve said, flashing his captivating smile. Y/N stared at him with dazed eyes before leaning back and downing his fifth shot of liquid courage.

"Maybe I am flirting with you, Steve. That's what I was doing last time we talked in case you didn't realize."

"Yes, you were quite subtle the last time we spoke." He said sarcastically. He took a sip of whatever he ordered from the bar before continuing. "Speaking of, I've been meaning to talk to you ever since that night, but I could never get a hold of you."

Y/N laughed, not knowing if Steve actually knew why he hasn't seen him since or if he really was oblivious. "Well, Steve, I was avoiding you because I made a fool of myself the last time we talked." A hiccup came out of Y/N's throat. "And then I said to myself, 'Steve probably thinks I'm weird so I'll avoid him to prevent any further embarrassment'." 

"Well, I really did enjoy our conversation last time, Y/N. I mean it."

Similar to their last encounter, a wave of deafening silence consumed the pair's conversation, the awkward tension causing Y/N to become slightly sober. Fortunately for him, the alcohol was still very much prevalent in his bloodstream, giving him enough confidence to break the awkward silence.

"Sometimes I wish I could just run away – leave this life behind and escape to some deserted island.” Y/N glanced towards Steve who was already looking at him. "It's too much at times – this life."

"It would be easier if you had someone with you for the journey."

Y/N looked at him, feigning an incredulous look. "Are you implying with your word choice, manner of speaking and overall cadence that you want to be that person for me?" Y/N laughed, scoffed was more like it. "I'd say you're the person flirting with me, Steve."

Steve chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving Y/N. "Maybe I am, Y/N."

Y/N could only stare at him as his heart skipped a beat. Perhaps it was the alcohol messing with his senses and disposition, but his usual wit was gone and he was speechless – a rare moment for Starks. Noticing his hesitation, Steve leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a near whisper.

"Y/N, you don't have to go through this life alone. I've seen through your father how hard it can be for someone in your position. But you don't have to bear it all by yourself."

"Do you really mean that, Steve? Or are you just saying all this because I'm drunk and pathetic." Y/N's voice wavered, the confidence he had during their last encounter was noticeably absent.

Steve reached out, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder. "I've noticed you, Y/N. Even though we haven't talked much, I can already tell you're a special person. You're more than just Tony Stark's kid. There's something unique about you. And I want to get to know you more."

The butterflies Y/N felt during their last encounter returned and did pirouettes in his stomach. "I don't know what to say, Steve."

"You don't have to say anything right now. Just know I'll be here and I won't be leaving anytime soon."

Y/N looked at Steve, a whirlwind of emotions torpedoing inside of him. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel so alone. The confidence suddenly returned and a smile braced itself on Y/N's face. "Are you technically asking me out?"

Steve only laughed in response before standing up and saying, "I can take you home now if you want."

Y/N quickly stood up. "Oh yes please, Steve. Another minute in here and I think I'll have an aneurysm." As the two started walking, a sudden wave of a burdening reminder of his father's presence washed over Y/N. "Wait, I can't leave – dad said I-." 

Before Y/N could finish, Steve quickly interrupted him. "I think everyone here, including Tony, can see you're in no condition to be here any longer." 

Y/N could only nod, too exhausted to protest. As they exited the building Y/N's head grew heavy, and it gently fell onto Steve’s shoulder. Steve tensed for a moment, then relaxed as his arm slowly wrapped around Y/N’s waist, pulling him closer. “Take me home, Steve,” Y/N mumbled softly against his shoulder, his breath warm against Steve’s neck.

"That's what I'm doing right now, Y/N." Steve said softly.

------------------------------------

After exiting the building, Steve hailed one of the idle limousines across the museum. He had to carefully slide in Y/N's body before sliding in beside him.

The ride back to the Avenger's Compound was quiet and tranquil, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the earlier evening. Steve glanced at his watch - it said 3:33 AM - then turned his gaze towards Y/N's sleeping body leaning against the car window. A small dribble of saliva was escaping the corners of his mouth, and Steve quietly chuckled.

"I can feel you looking at me. Cut it out." 

"Unfortunately, I can't seem to stop my eyes from lingering on things I find beautiful." Y/N could only blush at Steve's unexpectedly sappy words, unaware the super soldier had it in him to be a corny romantic.

"You're no better than any other man, Steve Rogers," Y/N teased, though his voice was softer than before. Steve smiled, but was interrupted by a loud yawn erupting from his mouth. Abruptly, Y/N sat up straight from his slouched position, suddenly remembering something in his drunken haze. "You know, you still have yet to cash in on my offer, Steve."

"You mean your offer to be in bed with you?" Steve asked, his tone in between amusement and curiosity.

Y/N eagerly nodded. "I wouldn't mind if that happened tonight."

Steve's head turned at a concerning speed that definitely would've given a normal person severe whiplash. He gave Y/N a stern yet somber look, one that carried warmth with a reprimanding undertone behind it. "I'm not going to sleep with you, Y/N. I mean, you're drunk and that would be me taking advantage of you – I'd like to think you expect better from me."

Y/N blinked, looking both very offended and embarrassed. "That is absolutely not what I meant, Steve, you naughty man!" He crossed his arms and sunk into the limo's soft leather seats. "I meant that it would be nice if we just laid and went to sleep together...I just don't want to be alone tonight."

Steve's expression softened immediately, understanding the vulnerability behind Y/N's words. Their eyes met, a silent agreement shared between them, filling the rest of the ride with warmth from their comforting connection. 

As the car grew quiet again, Y/N, emboldened by the last remnants of alcohol in his system, threw one more cheeky remark towards Steve. "But you would have sex with me, right?" 

Steve laughed, his head shaking, but the tenderness in his smile spoke volumes. "Get some rest, Y/N. We'll talk in the morning."

------------------------------------

Y/N stirred awake in his bed, his eyes wincing as the harsh rays pierced through a gap between his bedroom curtains. His head pounded, and a wave of nausea met him immediately. Unable to fight it, Y/N ran to his bathroom, purging the contents of last night's festivities in his toilet. It was quite a horrid sight. 

After what seemed like hours, Y/N exited from his bathroom, wanting to get more sleep. Stumbling back to his bed, he noticed the large body-shaped mound from underneath his blankets. Frightened, he approached it cautiously, scared of the idea of having drunkenly slept with a stranger. 

Slowly uncovering the body, Y/N was met with the peaceful sight of a sleeping Captain America. Steve's chest rose and fell steadily, lips parted as he took even breaths. Then, the events of the previous night came rushing back to him like a semi-good dream and Y/N mentally facepalmed himself. However, while he internally scolded himself for his embarrassing behaviour, he also congratulated himself for having been somewhat successful in his endeavours of pursuing Steve. 

Laying back down gingerly beside Steve, Y/N grabbed his phone from the nightstand. The time was 11:11 AM and Y/N silently made a wish to himself. He noticed he had received 10 missed calls and nearly 50+ messages from his dad. Thinking it was regarding his early leave from the gala, Y/N decided to deal with his father later, still exhausted from the night before. Opening Twitter (he refused to call it 'X'), Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as he saw his name trending alongside 'Steve Rogers' and 'Captain America.' A knot formed in his stomach and he decided to Google his name. The urge to puke suddenly returned as he was met with a news article reading:

‘Hottest New Couple in NYC?! – Captain America & Y/N Stark Seen  Seen Getting Cozy During Annual Stark Gala’  

Below the headline was a picture snapped of Steve and Y/N at the bar, Steve leaning closely towards Y/N as both shared very flirtatious smiles towards each other. Y/N groaned loudly, causing Steve to stir awake. Today was going to be PR hell.

FIN

A/N: This actually took multiple days to write and while rereading it it's actually really corny? But, fanfic writing is actually kind of fun, I might do it more. Anyways, hope you enjoyed :) Also sorry for any mistakes I'm too lazy to revise

I LOVE THIS SO SO SO MUCHHHH AAAAA

She said, "What's on your mind?"// I said, "Your skin"

Pairing: Matt Murdock x AFAB Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, Established relationship, Mirror stuff, like pussy worship if you squint

Author’s Note: I just think we should all be more comfortable looking at ourselves and getting to know our bodies and I like to image Matt would want that too. I really need to wash my hair but I also just ate so I wrote this while I waited for my stomach to settle

Post-orgasm Matt was clingy and soft but he claimed that was only for you. After a round of morning sex, you and him were on top of the covers. You were leaning against the headboard. His head was on your mound with his right ear pressed against your crotch while you played with his hair. You weren’t sure if he was listening to his cum moving around in your uterus or the pulse that was still throbbing in your loins.

There was a mirror parallel to where you and Matt were laying, giving the perfect view of your post-orgasmic state. Even though you knew he wasn’t, the way Matt’s head was resting it was almost like he was looking directly at your body in the mirror. “Tell me what you look like”

You rolled your eyes. “Matt you know what I look like.” You went on to give a very utilitarian description of the colour of your hair, your eyes, your height, your body type all the standard stuff that would show up if you got roped into more of Matt’s shenanigans and ended up as a fugitive on Unsolved Mysteries.

“That’s not what I mean.” Matt hooks his hands underneath the flesh of your thighs and spreads your legs as far as they would go, having your plush, dewy folds completely exposed in the reflection of the mirror. You had never really seen yourself like this.

“Every time I think I’ve got your body mapped and figured out there’s always something new that I find that takes my breath away.” You smiled thinking about the other night when Matt shifted the angle of his thrust. He found a new spot inside of you that made his breath hitch and you moan so pretty around his cock.

Matt’s fingers parted your labia using two fingers to hold the puffy lips apart to expose your glistening flesh. “So tell me, gorgeous, what do you look like?”

Part 2

calling all my marvel fan stays… how many of yall would be interested in a felix/peter parker fic 🫣

this would be my first skz fic, i came up with it as a crackship but it’s actually gaining traction in my brain

here’s what i know so far:

peter grew up in queens but when his parents died he moved in with his aunt may in seoul

so they have moving to korea from an english-speaking place in common and are both fluent in english and korean

they’re both fanboys of each other (peter loves skz and felix is lowkey obsessed with spiderman to the point where the other members tease him about “oh, your boyfriend stopped a robbery yesterday” and shit like that)

when they first meet it kinda goes like “omg you’re felix from stray kids” “omg you’re spiderman” *awkward gay silence* (simultaneously) “CAN I GET A PICTURE”

stay theorizes that han is secretly spiderman and peter finds it very funny

felix once mentioned spiderman in a live and peter (who was watching) almost fell off his ceiling

peter is college aged bc i love college student peter parker so much

i’m thinking the premise starts with something like it’s snowy/slushy and peter saves felix from getting run over by a not paying attention moped (which i understand is pretty common in seoul) and peter gets splashed all over by slush and felix insists on bringing him back to his dorm to dry off so he doesn’t get hypothermia

idk i just love a gay and awkward couple

lmk if you’d be interested and, if so, what tropes/tags/themes/scenarios you’d like to see!! :)

I wrote this from a prompt by @fotibrit . Hope you it doesn't suck to bad and hopefully you didn't had to wait to long, studies suck :( Had zero idea how to write crack so I just write shameless fluff. 

Flip a Coin - Choose Both Sides

the_overlord

Summary:

Wherein Johnny Storm gets given a wrong number and ends up the self appointed president of the Spiderman fanclub.

And then, of course, he ruins it.

No Comment by

shewritesall

It's been decided by both Tony and Pepper Stark that when the time comes, Peter Parker will take over Stark Industries. After months of planning the best time to announce the new heir to the world, things fall apart and plans are ruined. Sometimes ruined plans don't change much, but in this case, they change everything.

Kissin’ Dynamite by

crime_fighting_spiderling

“Maybe I shouldn’t go.” Peter spoke. MJ shoved a permission slip into his hand at his comment.

“You’re going.” She simply stated.

Where Peter and his class go on a field trip to Stark Tower.

Permission Slips Please

ShadowsintheClouds

The obligatory field trip to SI fic with my own twist on it. Takes place after chapter 24 of my fic "More Than He Seems" so it's recommended that you read that.

delmar's daughter by

rewritethewebs

based on the tumblr prompt about mj being mr. delmar's daughter:

"like just IMAGINE Peter one day going into the shop, teasing mr. delmar again about his daughter bc he won't stop bringing up his aunt and then mj pops up from behind her dad stocking up the shop like "what about his daughter?" and it's all up/downhill from there"

What's Up, Penis Parker? by

almondlxnn

This was not what Peter planned. He did not mean to throw Flash across the hallway while everyone was watching. His day was already pretty bad, and this just made it even worse. This is definitely not what Peter planned.

you want me to be yours (well then you gotta be mine)

by baseline

Peter had completely expected everyone to fawn over MJ, because let’s be honest, he does it himself on a daily basis. What he hadn’t expected, however, was for her to kiss him and then for everyone to come up and give him the shovel talk. On her behalf. When they weren’t even dating for real.

“How is this my life?” he moans at the ceiling, shoving his face into his pillow before the ceiling can do something stupid like respond.

(or, 5 times they pretended + 1 time they didn't.)

just friend things by

flying_snowmen

Peter doesn’t bring anything up at dinner even though May is giving him some serious side eye and can’t stop looking at him with that contemplative look of hers. And then, while he’s washing the dishes and handing them to her to dry, she asks, nonchalant as she can manage, “So when did you and Michelle start dating?”

“MJ and I are just friends.”

Or, a story in which Peter and Michelle insist that they are just friends, to the belief of no one around them.

Fortuna Major by TheFlirtMeister

“I wanted to be an astronaut when I was little.” Michelle says.

“Why didn't you?” Peter asks.

“Too much math.” Michelle says, in such a serious voice that Peter snorts. “Hey! The amount of maths required crushed my dreams to get up into space!”

Suffer the Children by natneill99

“What happens now?” Peter found himself asking. He wasn’t sure if he was asking Michelle, himself, or the world. It didn’t matter, though. No one had an answer.

Michelle didn’t say anything. Instead, she opened up her notebook and stared at a blank page.

Or,

When Thanos destroyed half of all life, over 7,500,000 children in the US alone suddenly found themselves without a family to go home to. Fourteen-year-old Peter Parker was one of them.

the world is not kind by

Trickster88

The first time Ben Parker meets Tony Stark, he punches him square in the face.

Tony bites back a curse and ignores the way his eyes water as he looks back up at the man. Ben’s not angry, which is part of the reason the punch took him by surprise. They’re lucky the door is closed, or Happy would have tackled him to the ground. “Did that make you feel better?” Tony asks, the sarcasm in his tone biting, but Ben takes it as a serious question. “No.” If Tony didn’t know any better, he’d say the man almost cracks a smile. It’s hard to tell, and Tony’s never met a man he can’t read, but Ben doesn’t look angry (seriously, why doesn’t he look angry?), even though that punch felt angry. “...Maybe a little.”

Or, May dies instead of Ben. We’ve seen Ben’s legacy – but what about May’s?

Losing a mother is something different from losing a father, but either way, it hurts.

parker-leeds studios presents: the avengers (and co.) made by thebigolive

what’s the best way for peter parker, college student, to show his idols that he’s completely serious about his training?

well. becoming a youtube star that specializes in making fun of them couldn’t hurt, right?

It’s a series

When Tony Stark shows up on May Parker's doorstep to get spiderman to join him in Germany, he doesn't expect ...well, May Parker.

A story in which both Tony and May are lonely and a cup of coffee in the afternoon leads to another cup of coffee in the morning.

Happiness (it's in your heart) by

moonchild2593

Because there will never be enough Christmas cheer.

the Continued Awkwardness of being an official "Non-Avenger" Avenger by Anti_Social_Headphones_Kid

Spidey's gotten closer to the Avengers ever since they've returned, and everything seems to be going smooth- his identity is still safe, and he's friends with the Avengers- it couldn't get any better then that, right?

The Avengers on the other hand, have started to love having the Spider around- but their opinions on his identity are getting confusing, to say the least

Partners in Crime

Summary - Natasha is forced to confront her past after a certain witch decides to play mind games with the Avengers; that includes remembering the one person she regrets failing the most.

Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x KGB!reader

Warning(s) - The Red Room being shitty, canon typical violence, angst

Word Count - 4.2k

a/n - This could be read as a one-shot or I could extend it into a series, that I have definitely not started to plan out. I’ll leave it up to you guys. ;)

- Also, the vibe of their relationship was inspired by the song of the same title as the fic by FINNEAS. It’s nice and heartbreaking, but also one of my favorite songs so give it a listen.

- Last thing, this won’t impact the fic a ton, but I’m making Natasha’s past more comic aligned, meaning her date of birth is around the 1930s, not the 80s like in the MCU; so just keep that in mind.

If you would have told younger Natasha Romanoff that she would one day be fighting an evil sentient robot with the help of a god, a science experiment, a world class narcissist, and a SHIELD agent, she would have laughed in your face and then probably killed you.

But here she was, on a dark, humid cargo ship in the middle of Africa engaged in a three way shootout between the Avengers, Ultron, and some weapons dealers.

As soon as the shooting had started, she formed a list of the threats present in order of priority.

First, Tony’s murder bot and his, its? minions. She supposes a robot couldn’t possess a gender, but something about it was distinctly male. Probably the giant ego and the inability to listen to anyone except himself. Ultron wouldn’t bother her, he would most likely be engaged with Tony for a bit before making his escape. Nothing she and her twin glocks could do to stop that.

Next, his smaller robot clones. Those he would most definitely leave on the boat to add to the chaos and provide a distraction for his escape. They would be shooting at her, but more importantly, she could help take them out in return.

Finally, whatever mercenaries were left on the boat from the deal they had with Ultron. She almost didn’t consider them at all. Sure, they’d be running around shooting at everything, but they were like flies to her: low threat, annoying, loud.

With the mental list successfully mapped out in her mind, she chances a peak around the corner she was using for cover, immediately putting two bullets in a merc across the walkway.

She turns to intercept one of the bots making its way over to Clint when a loud crash sounds from the deck below her. A blue blur lands roughly into a pile of crates and that’s when she remembers the twins.

She chastises herself for leaving them out of her mental game plan.

The Maximoffs are unknowns, and that fact alone is enough to put them on the top of the threat list.

Natasha lets her body go on autopilot, relying back on her life of training to shoot at the remaining men and androids alike, while her mind is occupied with assembling a file on the enhanced.

The boy would be annoying, but she doubts that he would try and seriously harm any of them. The most she’d have to deal with is getting the wind knocked out of her after getting pushed down by him.

The girl however, was truly something that could provide a real threat towards the team. Natasha thought back to when they first encountered her at the HYDRA base, how Tony went radio silent before returning with the scepter, and how he didn’t seem entirely present on the flight back to the tower.

Thor’s voice interrupted her assessment as he announced that the witch had tried to warp his mind, but that his mightiness was sufficient to thwart her attack.

“Steve, you hear that?” The assassin checked on her comms, only to be met with a silence that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Thor, Steve, are you receiving me?” She tries again, adjusting her earpiece for good measure.

The ship was eerily quiet, as if all the sound around her was sucked out, as if she were the only remaining entity on the battlefield; and only now did she process how hot it was and how the dim lighting added to her unease.

She decided that checking on the boys had just shot to the top of her priority list and moved to descend the stairs when a presence moved out of the shadows next to her.

The next thing she knew she was no longer—

How

How did she end up back at the one place she had actively avoided going back to for the past few decades.

She looked around, now wondering why, why she would be thrust into this living nightmare where the walls felt like they were closing in on her and she couldn’t help but shake the feeling of being watched.

That notion of prying eyes didn’t go away, even as she swung her head around, sweeping the location for unwanted persons just as she had been taught here all those years ago. She turned around, poised for an attack, expecting to find Petrovitch or Madame B or something there besides the emptiness. Only to be met with the pristine ceramic floors and the old wooden walls.

Has this place always been this unnerving? She supposes so and chalks up her unease to the time and distance spent away and in the safe arms of SHIELD. She had gone soft. Or maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t always been lucid during her time here.

That didn’t matter though. All that mattered was the fact that she was here.

Alone.

Or so she thought before she finally noticed a figure pass through the hall in front of her, wrapping around the corner before she could start to analyze them.

Almost as if she didn’t have a choice, her legs started to move after the person, an invisible force tying her to them; who was it?

The path was one that led her down many cold, dark halls that felt foreign at first, until the familiarity of the place crept up from the recesses of her unwilling mind. Her entire childhood that she had worked so hard to shut out was being thrown right back into her face as she was forced to relive it.

She spotted them again right before they ducked into a room, shutting the door behind them.

She knew it wasn’t locked though, their doors never had that capability. Personal privacy was not a luxury they were afforded here.

She paused as her hand brushed the door handle; did she really want to face this, to face you?

She didn’t have a choice though, and it was silly to entertain the idea of one at all.

So she went in.

You were leaning up against the wall, your arms crossed over your chest and your head down in waiting.

You look up though when she walks through the door, a smile on your face as you push off the wall and close the distance between the two of you, gently closing the door behind your Natalia.

There’s almost no distance in between you two and her breath hitches as she looks into your eyes.

Those eyes that once were the center of her whole world, the ones that stubbornly held so much light and love despite all of the things they had seen. The ones that she had fallen in love with and found shelter in throughout the darkest part of her life.

Too bad she never had the chance to tell you any of those things.

Too bad you weren’t actually here.

But you were, right?

She cups her hand around your cheek, fingers brushing lightly against your jawline. It felt so real, you were warm, and you were standing right in front of her; so close that she could feel your breath on her skin.

“I miss you.” Was all that she could manage to get out, her voice so quiet she thought that maybe it would go undetected.

It worries her when a few seconds go by without a response, but that dissipates when she hears your voice.

“Oh Natalia.” You say, equally as quiet as a sad smile graces your face.

She can’t take it anymore.

The way you’re looking at her with those disappointed puppy dog eyes, the knowledge of chances not taken haunting her, her want need to be even closer to you.

So she closes her eyes and kisses you.

It surprises her when you kiss her back with equal fervor. It shouldn’t when she knows what she meant to you. You hadn’t been scared to let her know you loved her. She just regrets that she never told you her own feelings.

But you are here now and she is kissing you so she tries to pour all of her love into this one moment.

You stay locked in that embrace for as long as you can before you pull away, out of breath.

She looks at you and notices your face is wet with tears before feeling her own tears streaming down her cheeks.

Apparently that had been something you both desperately needed.

You step back, creating distance between the two of you and allowing the cold to wrap itself around her now that your presence is gone.

The silence was deafening as she waited for you to say something, her cheeks still flushed from the heat of the kiss.

This was how it was supposed to be: you two against the world, finding solace in the love you shared, and using it to shield yourselves from the horrors that were thrown at you.

She let that thought envelop her for a moment before once again being distracted by the silence and your movement along with it.

You had your back turned to her now, the sole dim lightbulb warping your frame and turning your naturally soft aura into the sinister one they had beaten into you from before you could speak.

“Why did you let them take me?” You voice the question that she had been tormenting herself with ever since she last saw you.

You round on her now, your voice taking on an edge that made her want to bolt. The accusing glint in your eyes causing her to break eye contact with you; something she hadn’t done since entering the room.

“You’re a coward, Natalia.”

Gone was the soul she had fallen in love with, the one she had shared an intimate moment with just seconds before. It had been wiped, replaced with one bent on destruction and making her crumble.

The dormitory that had once been a sanctuary for her, a place to shut herself in with no one else but you, suddenly seemed too dark, too cold, too hostile. You had provided the light that she needed to keep going, but now you had turned on her, effectively plunging her into darkness.

“Umph.” Her back hit the door roughly as you had rushed her, pinning her there with your hand around her neck.

“Please,” she started, but you cut her off by slapping her harshly across the face.

“No. I’m dead, and it’s all your fault.”

You release the death grip you had on her and stalk out of the room, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway outside.

The redhead bent over to refill her lungs before whirling around to sprint after you.

But you were gone.

Slipped from her grasp into the night air.

And just like before, there was nothing she could do to stop it.

She lowered herself onto the ground, a choked sob escaping her lips as she closed her eyes and hugged her knees close to her chest.

She didn’t know what to do so she just sat there, squeezing her eyes as tight as she could and hoping that you would come back.

Then she heard a voice calling her name, one that brought her comfort and safety.

“Natasha. Natasha, come on!”

It wasn’t you though as she had hoped for, it was the wrong voice and the wrong name.

The voice was pleading though, and she didn’t like how sad it sounded so she forced herself to open her eyes and look at the man kneeling in front of her.

It was Clint; his eyes full with worry. Oh how she was glad to see him. Her best friend, her partner in crime, her brother. She quickly gauged her surroundings and noticed that somehow she had been moved to the Quinjet and that it had landed on a familiar farm.

How long was she out for?

As if reading her mind, Clint spoke up, “the Maximoff girl hit us hard, everyone except me and Tony. We needed a safe place to regroup, so I thought it was time to introduce the rest of the team to the Barton clan.

Oh, oh that’s right. Ultron, the twins, HYDRA, it was all coming back to her now. She nodded numbly towards the archer and moved to stand up, the man quickly supporting her and walking her inside the farmhouse.

She couldn’t be bothered to tune into any of the conversations going on around her, too preoccupied with the fact that she had seen you for the first time in half a century; even if it was just in her magic fueled imagination.

None of the Avengers, even Clint, had ever seen her so unnerved, and it worried them greatly, but all of them were more or less emotionally stunted, so they just made sure to give her space as they stood gathered in the living room.

What finally snapped her out of her stupor was two children barreling into the room, one little girl in particular asking to see her Auntie Nat. She smiles and is proud to say it’s only half fake as she picks up the eight year old.

She also manages to tease Laura about her pregnancy before escaping up to her usual room, letting out a sigh as she shuts the door.

Shower. She needs a shower. That will help her clear the nightmare from her mind.

To clear you from her mind.

She steps into the bathroom and sets the handle to the max temperature, using the scalding water to ground herself.

After she’s done she allows herself to sit on the bed and take a moment to process the whole thing. From the shock of seeing you again, to kissing you, to the seething rage radiating off of you as you blamed her for your fate.

She needed to remember what was real. The true events that led to you being taken from her, not the reality from the fake you that had somehow felt so real, that was what she needed to find and let play in her mind.

There wasn’t a lot to choose from, even with the time and the help from SHIELD the ever-present gaps in her memory, courtesy of the Red Room’s “conditioning”, made it hard to pin down a certain, complete moment with you.

But, after an indeterminable amount of time staring at the wall and raking through her memories, she picks one out, one that had been strong enough to stick around in her head, even after all this time.

Circa 1955

She was on a mission in Paris. Her being as efficient and ruthless as her title implied, she had completed her mission almost 24 hours prior to when she was originally due to report back.

Deciding that a small break would be in everyone’s best interest, but mostly hers, she chose to not contact her handlers about the early mission accomplished and instead took time to explore the City of Light.

A small part of her wondered if they would know, if she should just call them and head back to base like they would want her to, but a larger part of her was disgusted at the mere thought of going back, so she broke protocol after making absolutely certain that there was no way they could find out.

After a day of playing a ditzy American tourist and checking out the city she found herself back at her hotel, dreading her extraction time.

She was sitting on the balcony, a bold move for an assassin of her caliber, but at this point she couldn’t bring herself to care if someone shot her; maybe the world would be a better place after her death.

“What are you thinking about?” A voice sounded from within the hotel room, a voice belonging to the only person in the world that could sneak up on her like that. A voice that belonged to her one soft spot.

And there you were, standing with your hands shoved into your pockets like a shy school kid, even if you hadn’t held that sort of innocence in a long, long time.

She tilts her head down slightly, but not before you catch the blush spreading quickly across her face, which was framed beautifully by the pale moonlight from outside.

“Just you,” she smirked, doing well to hide the morbid topic she had truly been entrenched in, not wanting to dampen the mood when you had risked a lot to show up here.

Speaking of, she wasn’t sure where your mission was, but it definitely was not in Paris, so how did you get here? And why were you putting your neck on the line just to see her?

“Well it turns out I have impeccable timing then,” you tease, choosing to drop the obvious lie she had told. She could put all of her walls up, fool the entire world, but there was no veil of hers you couldn’t see straight through.

“How are you here?” She breathed, hesitant to really believe you were there, even as you walked out onto the balcony towards her.

“I have my ways,” you shrug, she doesn’t need to know what you did just to get a moment alone with her. “This place is beautiful at night,” you change the subject, wanting to use this time to talk about things outside of your shared occupation.

Luckily she goes along with it, nodding in agreement and turning to look at the night sky that was illuminated by the many lights of the city.

You shift, swinging up onto the railing and letting your legs dangle off the side of the, 23rd floor; if you remember correctly. Apparently you didn’t have much of an aversion to death either.

A comforting silence falls between the two of you and you decide to close your eyes and focus on the cool night wind running through your hair and the sounds of the city dozens of feet below you. It wasn’t often or, at all, really that either of you had the chance to just sit and do nothing besides enjoy the other's company and neither of you were about to let this moment pass without stopping to let it imprint in your memories.

You opened your eyes and turned to watch Natalia now. You were so in love with the girl it bordered on obsession, but you had never told her so in words. You hoped she knew; that she could tell from your actions alone, but a part of you needed to make sure that she did.

“I love you Natalia.”

The words startle her, and you can’t tell if it’s because of the actual meaning behind them or just because you had broken the peaceful atmosphere you had found yourselves in.

You hoped it was the latter.

She turned to you then, unsure of what to say, but not wanting to stay silent she whispered, “I know you do.”

You turn your face back to the sky in an effort to hide your relieved expression from the girl, but you know she can see so you adopt a blank look instead, the one you use when appearing void of all emotion.

At least you told her, you think to yourself. She knows and that’s all that matters. She didn’t need to say it back because you knew she felt the same way. You saw it in her eyes everytime she looked at you. She was just scared of what admitting it out loud might mean for the two of you and you understood that; it was why you had waited so long to tell her.

Natalia was not a mind reader though and took your actions for disappointment in her. She hated herself for being so weak when you were so brave and it broke her heart thinking that you didn’t know she loved you right back.

Needing to leave so you could get back to where you were supposed to be, you get up, making sure to leave the small item that had been hidden in your pocket in your wake.

A satisfied smile graced your face as you exited her room and walked away.

Not sure of what to do, it takes her a few minutes to move back into the room, but when she finally does, she notices the shiny gleam of something on the railing where you had been sitting.

It was a ring.

Just a small, thin band, something that would be easy to hide, even from people who were constantly scrutinizing her every move.

She took it quickly, as if it might disappear at any moment, before packing her things and heading to the extraction point.

Natasha wiped the tears that had fallen from her face as she reminisced about the moment where you had practically proposed to her.

She smiled though, as the memory of your true existence had almost completely wiped the nightmarish version from her mind.

She wasn’t able to dwell on that small victory for long though, as her mind vaulted itself into another, much darker memory.

6 months post Paris

You both had been called to Petrovitch’s office. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence and definitely not cause for alarm as you both were among the top performing agents.

Expecting a mission briefing, it took you both by surprise when you were met with Petrovitch seemingly in the middle of a meeting with an unknown man.

You both moved to the side of the room as he finished speaking with him, their slimy hands clasping together to seal whatever deal they had just arranged.

“Ah there they are, my deadliest weapons, my proudest accomplishments.” He slapped a hand on each of your shoulders, a show of power, of control.

“This one,” he gestured to you, “is yours,” he smiled then, a gross, wicked grin that sent chills down your spine.

It dawned on you then, why you were really here; you were simply a pawn, an object to be traded for money or information or god knows what else. There was also nothing you could do to stop it. All you could feel in that moment however, was relief that it was you and not her.

Never her.

This place you were at now was an absolute shithole, but at least it was familiar. The rules were known and all it took was obeying to stay alive. This new party, well you had no idea what to expect.

You desperately wanted to make eye contact with her, but there was no way you could without it being blatantly obvious.

“Follow me,” the dark-haired man ordered and you moved from your position next to Natalia, your legs feeling like lead as you walked toward the door. The portal that would separate you from her for the rest of time.

You moved to shut the door behind you, glancing over your shoulder as you did, allowing you to finally lock eyes with your love. In that split second you had before it closed you tried to make sure that she knew it wasn’t her fault, that you would be okay, and that you loved her.

Then your sight line was cut off from those sad, green eyes as you walked away, the latch ringing loudly in your ears, and Natalia didn’t even bother to hide her fear from Petrovitch.

“Do you know why I called you in here, huh?” The man had the audacity to speak to her, to taunt her with her loss.

She glared at him then as she pieced it all together. He must have known, somehow, but you had been so careful.

“I wanted to see the look on your face as they were taken away. And you didn’t disappoint.”

She clenched her jaw hard in an effort to keep her anger at bay, but that action alone was enough to cause the man to laugh in her face.

“You two were so funny. Thinking you could sneak around without getting caught. You were subtle, I’ll give you that, but I see everything.”

Still she didn’t bite, even if all she wanted to do was kill the man where he stood and then burn this place to the ground.

“This place,” he waved a hand around for emphasis, “is not one for friends, for allies. I thought you knew that.” He cocked his head then, his methodical pacing coming to a stop right in front of her, daring her to make a move against him.

And she was so close to smacking the smug look off of his face, but she couldn’t give him this satisfaction, not after all he had done to her.

Noticing her increasing anger at him, the man decided to give a final push. “Do you know who that was?”

Of course she didn’t, but he felt the need to rub it in her face as much as possible. To break her, she supposed; she hated to admit that it was working. You were her weak spot, and he knew it.

“I’m not going to tell you,” she could practically feel him preening at his own comment. “All you need to know is that he represents an organization that specializes in, hmm, breaking people in the most archaic ways, in the name of science of course; until they outlive their usefulness that is.”

That’s it, she wasn’t going to let him stand there all smugly after slandering your name by spelling out how you were going to be tortured and killed. “You bastard.”

“There she is,” he chuckles before backhanding her across the face.

A knock on the door before two guards come in.

Petrovitch turns, finally addressing someone that wasn’t her. “Take her, remind her of what happens when you forget your place.”

Natasha snaps back to the present then, not sure if she could handle remembering what had happened to her next.

The scars littering her mind and body were reminder enough.

And anyways, Clint was at her door, telling her that she needed to come down and eat something. He wouldn’t be bothering her if there wasn’t an important reason for her to get up so she hastily wiped her eyes and followed him down the stairs.

The ring you gave her weighing heavily on her finger, and her mind.

Someone Who Answers

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: A small drabble where the Reader calls Natasha in the middle of the night.

Words: 600

You weren’t sure how long it had been since someone had answered your calls or texts.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have any friends. You had plenty. They were just busy with family, and life, and work. You were happy for them. Truly. You just wanted to talk to someone. You needed someone. And they left you with no one.

No one, except for Natasha Romanoff.

Even though you had her number in your phone, even though she said, all those years ago when she’d met you during some secret operation, that you could call her at any time, you had never done anything more than glance at the number. After all, Natasha was a very, very important woman. She had better things to do. Like save the world, or kill corrupt politicians, or clean her guns, or whatever the hell the Black Widow did in her free time.

You did everything you could to not call. You went through every possible excuse. She was working, she was saving the world, she was with a friend, she was practicing martial arts. All of them fell flat when, in the middle of the night, you found yourself aching for connection, however slight.

So, despite everything, you pulled your phone out, found the number, and pressed “Call.”

The second you pressed the button, you regretted it. Your heart felt to the pit of your stomach, your breath quickened, and your palms turned sweaty. The phone rang once. You pulled the phone away, preparing to hang up. The phone rang twice. You stared at the screen, waiting for something. You weren’t sure what for. Nothing happened, you didn’t get any signal, so you reached for the “End Call” button. But before you could press the button, a voice interrupted you:

“How did you get this number?”

You instantly brought the phone back up to your ear, a smile breaking free onto your lips. Oh, how amazing it was to hear someone speaking to you. Even if said person seemed less than enthused.

You took in a deep breath and forced the words out, “You gave it to me.”

“Oh,” Natasha said, and the harshness faded from her voice. “The humanities consultant for the Paris mission.”

“Uh, yes,” you said. You barely understood what had happened. All you could remember was that you were brought into this tiny room, sat down with Natasha, and she had you tell her about a remote, cut-off culture just East of Paris. Those twenty minutes were the highlight of your career. “Sorry I called you. It’s really late.”

“I’m in Cyprus,” Natasha said, and you hummed. It was a waste even wondering why she was on the other side of the world. You’d never learn, anyway.

“Good morning, then.”

“Thank you,” she said, then a few moments later asked, “Why did you call? Do you need something?”

“No, I’m fine,” you said. After a few breaths, you mustered up the courage to say, “I just wanted to talk.”

There was a pause on the other end. You thought she had hung up or simply couldn’t bother responding, but she ended up saying, “I’m free for the next hour. We can talk.”

And that was exactly what you did. It felt amazing. Not only to talk to someone, but to talk to someone who seemed so full of stories and complexities as Natasha was amazing. Sure, some of the stories veered on the edge of being dark or unbelievable, but that didn’t bother you. You had known what you were getting into when you started to talk to her.

Masquerade - Kate Bishop

Marvel

Request: Nopeee

Summary: Kate Bishop x fem!Reader. Your first New Year with Kate. (Pre-Set Relationship)

Words: 722

Warnings: Minor Hawkeye Spoilers. Also sorry if the pacing is a little off I haven’t written in a while.

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The mask sat snugly on her face as she glanced around through hooded lashes. She was completely out of her element. Y/N didn’t come from money unlike Kate so she had no idea on how to act at parties like this. Although Kate wasn’t doing well either, she was also feeling quite out of place. Maybe that’s why she and Y/N had gotten along so easily, birds of a feather flock together you know. But neither of them said a word of their discomfort assuming the other wanted to be at the party. 

Kate was off getting drinks for them whilst Y/N waited for her in the corner of the room next to a large glass window overlooking the entire city. This was the first party they’d been to like this, by this meaning high society, they’d been to since Kate’s mom… you know. They would rather not talk about that on such a joyous occasion though or rather one that was meant to be joyous. A few people had tried to start conversations with both of them but they weren’t feeling very social at the moment. In fact, Kate wasn’t sure why she had dragged them to the party in the first place, one of her friends had convinced her to go but she was beginning to wonder why she had given in so easily to the peer pressure. 

Kate sat next to Y/N on the couch she was currently sitting on. Kate handed the flute of liquid to her. The champagne was by far the most expensive thing Y/N had ever held yet still tasted the same as the cheap stuff. Kate met eyes with her girlfriend and saw the same look of boredom in her eyes that Kate currently had in her own. So she clinked glasses with Y/N and took her by the hand leading her to the elevator realizing neither of them actually wanted to be there, she waved a goodbye to the hostess.

Once in the elevator Kate slipped the black mask off her own face and sighed pressing the button for the roof. “What are we doing?” Y/N hummed at her gorgeous counterpart. Also in the process of speaking taking off the gold mask on her face. Kate just smiled and whispered, “tis’ a surprise.”

The doors dinged open and they made their way to the door outside making sure to prop it open in case it were to lock, although the makeshift doorstop did not look very stable. The cold air prickled at Y/N’s bare shoulders and Kate saw her shiver harshly in her tiny golden dress.

“Sorry I didn’t really prepare for this,” Kate rubbed the back of her neck and shrugged off her jacket. Y/N took it gratefully and they sat near the edge of the building.

 “Now really what are we doing?” Y/N asked again and Kate just shushed the girl.

“Wait for it,” Kate pulled out her phone and clicked for a moment. She propped her phone on the ledge and it displayed a count down. Just a few minutes to go until the new year. Y/N understood and intertwined her fingers with Kate’s own.

 “I’m glad that I’m here with you,” Kate said looking at her girlfriend with adoration. Y/N had been with her through thick and thin even though they’d only been dating a few months. Through the hardest parts of her mother’s arrest and the support of her newfound heroism, she was perfect.

“There’s no one I’d rather be with,” Y/N squeezed Kate’s hand and leaned in for a kiss. Kate held up her free hand and pushed Y/N’s face back. A look of betrayal etched its way onto Y/N’s face. Kate just snickered and pointed at the countdown.

“Literally twelve seconds to go and you can’t be patient,” She rolled her eyes. They began to count down together.

“3.. 2.. 1!” They shared a sweet kiss as fireworks went up all over the city. It was a beautiful sight but they were focused on each other. Y/N smiled into their first kiss of the new year.

“I love you, Kate.”

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TAGLIST: @speedymaximoff @magnet-girl​ @siennanoelle01​ @kcd15​ @nani-2305​ (Crossed out wouldn’t tag for some reason)