Marvel Imagine - Blog Posts

Marvel Taglist

All -> @superlegend216 @hiireadstuff @leftmooncollector @lesbpotmurdocklokistan

Bucky Barnes -> @hellonheels-x @writesleah

So I'm doing a Morbius re-watch while working on an essay, and I got (once again) a sudden urge to write about Dr. Michael Morbius. If I did write something, would anyone read it, though? I just really want to write something about him, so if anyone has any requests, don't feel shy and send them to me.

P.S. I know the movie came out a long time ago, but who cares?

Marvel Masterlist

✭ - smut

♡ - fluff

➳ - angst

۵ - hurt/comfort

°

Bucky Barnes

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

Young Romanoff - Natasha's sister has to train with none other than the Hydra's most precious soldier as a part of the Black Widow Program. [➳]

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

So go ahead and request whatever you'd like with whoever you'd like (writers block really is killing me). Btw, I'm working on one request, but it might take a little while (school is kicking my ass).

Younger Romanoff | Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x widow!Romanoff!reader

Summary: Natasha's sister has to train with none other than the Hydra's most precious soldier as a part of the Black Widow Program.

Warning/s: fighting, blood, wounds, death, maybe a curse word?? I guess? Think that's it?

Author's note: Hii! :) This is my first Tumblr post (new to this). So please go easy on me. Enjoy!

You could literally feel the sweat running down your back underneath your suit as you took the seat next to your older sister Natasha. You knew that you should have no reason to be nervous at all, but you couldn't stop the bad feeling creeping in since the moment you opened your eyes that very morning.

Today was the day when the Windows were supposed to have a rather brutal training. But that wasn't the worst or unusual part. That training was supposed to be held not only by the Red Room, but by Hydra, too. The trainers in the Red Room had gathered all of the Widows to train with the Hydra's strongest soldier. The Winter Soldier. Just the thought of his name made you shiver.

You had a very bad feeling that even your status as the Widow couldn't push away. You were proven right the moment that the door of the training room slammed open, and your sister, the rest of the Widows in the waiting room and you looked up. One of the trainers was walking out of the room. But she wasn't alone. Behind her, she was dragging a poor beaten up Widow. She seemed like she was barely breathing. All of the Widows watched in silence as the first Widow of this training was dragged away God knows where. Natasha and you shared a look. You didn't say anything, but you both agreed that this was going to be a long day.

It was already dark outside as you watched the Widows go inside the training room. Some of them coming out of it alive, but badly beaten. Some of them weren't so lucky. Pretty soon you watched as Natasha got out of the training room, took her towel, pressed it into her bruised face, exchanged a few words with you and leave to go to her room. A few second passed and you heard your name being called out with a sharp, but clear voice.

"Y/N Romanoff!"

You stood up like a robot, wiped your hands with your training suit and started to walk over towards the training room door. This was it. Either you come out alive or you die trying. One or the other. As you walked into the room and the door closed behind you, you took in your surroundings. In front of you was placed a boxing ring, only you knew the two of you wouldn't be boxing. That one was for sure. You looked to your right and saw a bunch of your trainers and Hydra agents murmuring among themselves.

"Y/N, step in the middle of the ring." Anastassia, your own trainer said as she handed you a small pocket knife. As you did so you heard them talk behind you.

"Y/N Romanoff. Her sister is Natasha Romanoff. A girl that was here before her. The two of them have the highest score in the Black Widow Program."

"We shall see in a moment."

You felt a shiver going down your spine as one of the Hydra's agents uttered those words.

"Y/N Romanoff. Meet The Winter Soldier."

You looked to your left and that's when you saw him. His piercing black eyes full of hatred were looking at the Hydra's agent as he sat on a chair in the dark corner of the room. He suddenly stood up as the agent ordered him to do so. He started to walk up to you towards the ring, however, he still didn't look you in the eyes. That's why you still couldn't really see his eyes properly. Your hard gaze followed him around the room as he got closer to you. When he finally stepped over the wire and into the ring, you noticed that he was given the same little pocket knife as you were.

"Y/N Romanoff. Winter Soldier. Fight."

That's when he looked you back in the eyes. For a moment you were frozen in shock, you could tell that he was, too. Your knees buckled as you watched soldier's eyes soften a little as a small frown was placed on his oddly perfect face without the mask this time. You somehow were charmed by him. You couldn't help but feel like your breath was stolen away from you as his piercing eyes were looking at you with some kind of interest. Interest in what? You could easily tell that he was, too, shocked by his sudden capability to experience any sort of emotion other than emptiness and hatred whatsoever. But you knew that you had to snap out of it before he got into his normal self. So you did.

You landed the first punch and that's when he came to. He started to throw punches back as the Red Room trainers and the Hydra's agents were watching your every single move closely. Just as you were about to throw the next hit, the Winter Soldier, cut your cheek with the knife. You hissed a little and glared angrily at him. If he wanted to play dirty, so could you.

At the end of the training you got your ticket out of the training room, that much was clear. You had to admit, he was a rough opponent. He was quick, clever and very strong. This fight was a big challenge and you just know fully understood why some of the Widows didn't make it. As you gave the pocket knife back to your trainer you could truly feel the soreness in your whole body. You had a few bruises and a big cut on your cheek ashoulderder, but you feltsensence of accomplishment as you knew that you got the Hydra's soldier pretty good, too.

He was hissing angrily as he took the towel from some Hydra's agent. He had a giant slush over his chest, a bruised jaw and a little cut on his chin. You turned around, away from his gaze, as you continued to speak to the Hydra's agents and The Red Room trainers that were asking you all sorts of questions. You felt piercing eyes on the back of your head the entire time. You knew were well to whom they belonged to. But you couldn't make yourself turn around. After you were dismissed you turned around and practically ran out of the training room. You just couldn't wait to escape the torture you just went through. But not only physical torture, but emotional torture, too.

You found yourself all alone as you walked out of the room whose door was slammed shut behind you. You looked out of the small window of the waiting room and you saw that it was pure dark outside. You quietly sighed to yourself as you made your way to the showers. As you relaxed in the shower, put on some fresh clothes and took care of the bruises and cuts you made your way over to your dorm room.

But what you didn't expect was to be showed in the dark corner of the hallway. You couldn't even let out a quiet gasp as your mouth was suddenly covered by a cold metal arm. You felt yourself freeze in shock as you realized who it was.

"Успокойся, вдова." (Calm down, Widow.) He hissed at you quietly, his breath hot on your face.

You nodded, not saying a word because you knew that there was no way out of this one. You didn't know why you were acting like this. You were a Widow for crying out loud. You are strong, intelligent and full of undying fire in your heart. You couldn't understand why you were letting yourself be ordered around by the Winter Soldier like some rag doll. But at the same time you had to admit that he was very intimidating at the moment since his other arm was placed on the wall next to your head.

This position made him look twice taller than you. He slowly put his metal hand away from your mouth as you took s breath in. You leaned yourself against the wall, one foot placed on the wall behind you, crossing your arms as you looked at the soldier's a little bit soft and confused eyes. You looked him straight in the eyes, your gaze, trying to be strong and full of confidence.

"Чего ты хочешь, Солдат?" (What do you want, Soldier?)

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x

JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE!!

Ominous mists || POV Bucky Barnes

Summary: Former Winter Soldier isn’t sure who he really is. Struggling with the dark past and the metallic voice in his head, he tries to recoup what he had lost.

Warnings: None at this point.

Words: 548

Authors: Beast

A/N: I’ve decided to create my first Bucky’s POV story, hope y'all enjoy it.

“Who do you think you are?” Asks the voice deep inside his head.

I don’t know who am I anymore, he thinks, grinning sadly. He looks down at his metal fingers and how they’re glistening in the setting sun as he stretches them slowly.

The wind blows him straight in the face but he doesn’t mind it at all. Practically, he likes it.

He spent another day by lurking along city streets, without any particular reason. He enjoyed getting lost in the street buzz. And Bucharest was an adorable place to be lost in. The streets were saturated with the remains of communism, although the renewed parts of the city were pulsating with modernized life.

Now, he was sitting at Dâmbovița River, leaning his back against an old linden. Unexpectedly, man shivers when the same voice as before says something loudly inside his mind.

“You’re nothing, just a piece of trash that nobody has ever needed,” voice is getting louder and louder with every second.

SHUT UP!, he shakes his head. You’re not real.

This time, however, the voice doesn’t seem to disappear. “Murderer. You’ve killed so many innocent people. Who do you think you are?

He gets up from the ground and hits the tree’s trunk with metal fist several times. I am not a FUCKING MURDERER!, he screams, he doesn’t pay any attention to few people that stare at him in disbelief.

But the voice gets only louder, spreading through his mind and reaching every single part of his body. "You’re nothing but Winter Soldier, serial killer, piece of trash, the unnecessary system bug which should be removed as soon as possible. But don’t ya worry, they’re coming for ya.”

He turns head around, his hood falls almost on his eyes. He’s afraid, like an animal that got into the hunter’s trap. Are THEY really coming after him???

“Are you okay, sir?” An old woman comes to him, tilting head aside a bit. “Do you need help?”

He struggles with a will to ran. He gently pushes the woman and goes ahead but sinks onto his knees after few steps.

“MURDERER.” The voice keeps humming. “MURDERER, MURDERER, MURDERER!”

He catches his head and with the corner of the eye, he can see how people take steps back as his metal limb is revealed. But he doesn’t care of them. Man only cares to get rid of that awful voice that is pounded somewhere to his brain. He wants to be deaf at all the screams he can hear in his mind and soul, the screams of people he has killed. And these metal clang of that fucking bionic arm! It tears his personality apart. He doesn’t know anymore if he’s a human being whether a machine without emotions.

But there’s a silver lining somewhere in his heart. A familiar male voice, he doesn’t recognize it but somehow it makes that nice warmth spreads across his flesh.

“… till the end of the line…”

At the same second, the metallic voice in his head tries to be louder to deafen the male voice. But he knows the male voice either way…

Man opens his steel blue eyes widely, the last rays of setting sun make them glisten with a comprehension. He screams.

MY NAME IS BUCKY BARNES!!!

Pandies🐼: @blue-dragon-ice @calkingwood @imidarogerson @grossograsso @thewildgardensstuff @irai-lauri @leven-and-ashley @la-verdura @bearded-steve-rogers @sebbystan-plantlover @atuckyismylife @krispyjellyfishzombie @personality-within @haseki-huricihan @choppedgardenwhispers @vroobelek @lattimelka @chris-beamz @hidden-secrets69 @side-blog-of-me @purepearls @i-am-margerita @volcanoxxx @kastrup-sofie  @mikkal-akasaki  @withoutashadowofhope  @radbluebirdeagle @marvel-fan-site  @smutloversblog  @buquete  @super-psycho-love69 @tanglesss @baysidewest @vegemania @philip-stan @chodiusmmm @subwaystunnel @tykorclint @dagger-dragger @kurant @nothing-can-least-forever @oxfordkipem @deliciousbouquet90  @tuptuptup @hellenna80  @karina-marina9 @latimeriaaa  @bratko @wurld89  @scott-evans  @kiss-me-rouge @ovonel-espaniol @dancing-tacco @ratugadhi @white-tiger-shangrila @peter-sommer @axn69  @eternal-life-awaits @mrs-laura-harmon @artsy-inside @gleeeeees @darkllaama @jatut @agawux @fuzzy-tigrrr @jrjohnsson2 @cassandbeast @maaargoshaaa @dontgetmewrongman @einexx @totorosbooty @whatever-thingswillgetbetta @humifiler @nwmtagsb @secretlygrantaire @kyloren-supreme-ben @yessy2012 @infinity-stones-seeker @thehappyspider

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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.”

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

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.

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

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." 

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

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."

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

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

Sweet Caroline

A/N- This is my first imagine so please be patient, I am trying my best but I've only ever written full stories or Incorrect Quotes. But there is a first for everything, right?

Fem!OC x Avengers(Platonic)

Fem!OC x TwinBrother!PeterParker

All the Avengers excluding Celia and Peter Parker were in the lounge area, talking when suddenly music started blaring from the floor above them. Tony knew what was going on and leaned back in his chair with a hand over his face and a roll of his eyes. Noticing this, Stephen Strange, cocked an eyebrow curiously over at the Genuis, Billionaire, Playboy, who simply huffed before answering. "I tried sending Celia and Peter to bed." He spoke, answering vaguely much to the Teams annoyance. As the music continued to blare, muffled voices can be heard in the room directly above them, which happened to be the Twins room. Tony tried giving them separate rooms but the twins always ended up in the same room. After interrogating them, Tony came upon the answer of which they've shared a room since they moved in with their Aunt and Uncle, and of which after having their Uncle shot right in front of their faces, they find comfort in each other to make the nightmares go away. Tony understood completely where they were coming from and ended up combining two of the rooms to make one big one by knocking down the wall in between the once separate rooms.

Upon further listening, the team realized that the song playing was Sweet Caroline from Neil Diamond and of course, their curiosity gets the best of them. One by one, the team went to the floor above them to listen better. Once everyone, including Tony, was upstairs, listening at the end of the hallway, by the elevator, they do admit, that it was worth coming upstairs. As soon as Tony, the last person to come upstairs, set foot on the floor, all they heard was Celia and Peter singing, "Sweet Caroline! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Steve was absolutely and utterly horrified at the young kids language, while Nat, Loki, and Bucky were smirking. Tony just huffed in annoyance, mouthing "Every. Night." Sam and Wanda were smiling trying to bite back their laughter. Stephen Strange and Thor's eyes were sparkling in amusement, with a slight lift of the corners of their mouths. Bruce and Clint were gaping in pure shock at never hearing such foul language from the two babies of the team, Pietro was silently howling in laughter and Vision was off to the side wondering what the hell was going on.

Upon coming back to the lounge, all they heard was a sound of glass shattering. Suddenly, FRIDAY spoke up. "Miss and Mr. Parker wish to apologize for breaking a lamp in their room. They promise to at least try and be careful next time." FRIDAY had said. "But they can't promise it won't happen again." FRIDAY had quickly added. The Avengers apart from Tony laughed at Tony's disgruntled expression. "Their lucky I love them." Tony muttered with a sigh before plopping back down on his armchair. The rest of the team shared a laugh before going back to their original seats just like Tony had done, while upstairs, Peter and Celia were in their assigned beds, letting each others sound of breathing and heart thumping inside the others chest, lull them to sleep, knowing that their other half and best friend were safe.

Bucky *screeching*: YOU MEAN A LOT TO ME!

Y/N: wh-

Bucky: YOU’RE ESSENTIAL TO MY EXISTENCE!

Y/N:why are you screaming??

Bucky: BECAUSE I HAVE TROUBLE EXPRESSING MYSELF! IT HELPS TO YELL SENTIMENTAL THINGS IN AN AGRESSIVE TONE!

Y/N: I-

Bucky: I FUCKING LOVE YOU!

Conventions

Has anyone seen conventions involving Mackie, Tom, and Seb? Can I say just some of them are really bad, like the holland fans are attacking Seb and Mackie and just being overly rude.

It made me seriously uncomfortable because I absolutely love all three men and hate that their not as kind to each as I want them to be, but you guys have to realize that Seb and Mackie are grown ass men!! Of course they have a hard time getting along with Tom, most adults have a hard time relating to someone more than ten years younger than them, but that doesn't mean they hate each other so you shouldn't be rude to them!

P.S. I wrote this on my phone so don't judge my bad punctuation and everything else! Just be kind to others especially when you don't know their REAL relationships 🙂😑

Quality short one shot! As an artist this is something I would love to do with Logan Howlett.

Imagine getting Logan to pose for you

Keep reading

This isn’t Taylor or Leigh but simply ✨her✨

oh bestie... beefy Nat... get ready for needy beefy Nat content. This turned into uhh... not a drabble, but I don't think anyone is gonna be mad about it? I wrote this to that "training with Nat" playlist that's literally like... sex playlist?? Shay knows the one

words: 1.2k

warnings: 18+ only, minors DNI; smut; physical restraint (but reader is like, used to it); fingering; clothed sex; daddy kink; mocking; Nat pound me into the training mat challenge

summary: honestly just.. Nat gets needy after sparring

It wasn't fair how much Natasha had to suffer over the past hour. You'd invited her to come workout with you, nothing too intense, just a sparring partner to work on hand to hand combat with; there was no one better to ask than her.

The entire time the two of you went back and forth on the mat, she got the upper hand and while you were tired of losing, you were even more tired of how distracting she was. Natasha typically wore shirtless tops around the compound, that wasn't new, but facing her in a fight you could see the muscles in her arms and you didn't know if you were out of breath because she was putting you through the wringer or if the fantasies in your head were getting the best of you.

Sparring was effective, but you wished Nat would toss you on the mat for a completely different reason.

"Okay okay, I give up!" It was the fifth time she'd pinned you and fuck, you would be surprised if you could stay coherent enough to make your way back to your room. Yes, you shared one with the redhead, but she liked to train longer than you so you figured that maybe if you were quick enough you could spend time recovering with a hot bath and your fingers between your legs.

Natasha let you up, rolling onto her back as you left the mat. The angle gave her the perfect view of your ass, outlined by the tight fabric of your stretchy shorts. For as much as you'd been watching Natasha, she'd been watching you right back; each time she took you down was a struggle in restraint. It'd be too easy to take you right there, but she'd resisted only because any one of your teammates could walk in. "Quitting already? But we were having so much fun."

Could be having a lot more fun upstairs. The thought came to your head before you could stop it and the resulting whine was too loud in the quiet room to go unnoticed. "Letting you run me into the ground repeatedly is a very one-sided type of fun, Natasha."

The older woman jumped up with ease, years of endurance training letting her recover with a quickness you could only ever envy. You didn't see her walking over to you, too preoccupied with gathering your bag together to get out of there. When she spoke again, she was right behind you and Natasha smirked as she caught your thighs instinctively pressing together. "You couldn't convince me you don't like losing to me if you tried."

"Why would I like losing?" You kept your back to her on purpose; if you looked at her you were sure you'd end up begging her to take you right there.

Natasha stepped closer, just enough to grab you. She was too fast for you, too strong, and she had you pressed flush against your front before you could process your shock. "Because I know you too well; you’re not subtle and you love it when I trap you."

Squirming away was fruitless; Natasha barely gave you room to breathe. You couldn't complain though, not when her hand was making its way to your breasts, squeezing roughly even when you cried out. The fights and her show of strength left you powerless to do anything but let your girlfriend touch you as she pleased, nipples pebbling both under her teasing and with your top half now exposed to the cold gym air. "Natty, we can't.. not here..."

She shushed you way too gently for how brutishly her other hand was sliding down the front of your shorts, hot breath tickling your ear. "I can do whatever I want and right now, I need my sweet girl to stay still while I fuck her."

You nodded quickly, your knees going weak almost as soon as her fingers spread you open. Risky as it was here out in the open, this was so much better than your fingers would ever be. She kissed your bare shoulder as she examined and groped you hungrily at her will. When her fingers were easily coated with your slick, the both of you groaned so loud there was no way anyone passing by the door wouldn’t have heard.

It was messy and crude, Natasha circling your clit until you’d soaked through your panties and possibly even your shorts— you loved it. “Daddy, please…”

“Oh fuck,” Maybe Natasha hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but she did and if the hard bite where your neck met your shoulder was any indication, she was quick to hide any other impulsive reactions. It was no secret how much the redhead adored the title, especially from you. Anything from you, really; she needed every part, every word, every whine you blessed her with. “Say it again, tell me how much you want it.”

“I-“ Stringing a sentence together proved difficult, Natasha’s fingertips just barely grazing your entrance throwing your brain into one thought alone. “Fuck me, please, daddy! I need you inside…”

A singular finger slid in, slow and steady and not at all what you needed to get off. You whined pitifully, trying to force yourself down on her hand to no avail. “I thought you wanted to wait? What happened, changed your mind?”

You wanted to yell and scream that it was all Natasha’s doing, that you’d be upstairs in your room if you had any say in the matter, happily bent over the mattress while you thrust onto your favorite vibrator. But that didn’t matter; you’d still be thinking of her, wishing it was her taking charge instead of a toy you controlled.

In her strong arms you felt captured and kept; no matter how you struggled, her hold on your body kept you still as a doll in a child’s grasp. “Stop squirming, baby. Daddy just needs to make you feel good.”

She was certainly doing just that, having slid a second finger alongside the first, stretching you perfectly. Your hips bucked back into her own and as her thumb played deviously with your swollen clit, you were even more grateful for Natasha’s support because without her, your knees would’ve given in a while ago. It didn’t take long before you were fighting off your orgasm, begging breathily to be allowed much needed release. “...’m so close.. Please…!”

Trying to escape her touch was pointless; Natasha was relentless in how she played with you, “Shh, it’s okay. Go on… cum for me.” It only took two curls of her digits to make you fall apart completely, your whimpers echoing off the solid walls of the empty training room. Your vision left for a moment, ears ringing as your body fell slack. Not for a second were you in danger of falling to the ground because Natasha was still holding you against her, one hand toying with your breast as her other was firmly buried between your shaking thighs.

The heel of her palm brushed over your over sensitive bud and you flinched away, but her grip never eased. The tip of her nose grazed the shell of your ear slowly, gently, unbothered by how you struggled against her firm body as she started fucking into you all over again. Natasha had stood and fought with you that afternoon on her best behavior, suppressing the urge to call off your training for her own favorite form of exercise. But now she’d won all rounds and she was going to be as selfish as she pleased. “Oh no, princess, I won five times and you owe me my rewards.”

𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫 || 𝐧. 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟

navigation || marvel masterlist || hollywood masterlist

pairing: natasha romanoff x female reader

warning: small fluff in the beginning

summary: she said there’s not a universe she won’t be loving you in. liar.

a/n: hey besties! i’ve been suffering so much from motivation and inspiration lost especially now that school had started. so please bear with my slow posts :( also this is a horrible scrap

Keep reading

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.

Can I request a Natasha x Avenger!Fem reader where Natasha has gotten into a habit of sleeping over at reader’s room 4 times a week and one night, she has a nightmare and reader is there to comfort her and then feelings are declared because they both like like each other and reader would say as she holds Natasha in her arms, “You are never sleeping by yourself again so long as I’m here…”

What Dreams Are Made Of

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

warnings: nightmares, death

summary: You comfort Natasha after a nightmare because even the toughest people need solace

word count: 3.7k

a/n: thank you anon for requesting this! i really enjoyed writing this so i hope u like it too :) also huge shoutout to @didujustcallmedumb for giving me some ideas, encouraging me to write this, and also reading it over <3

There were many perks of having your room be closest to the kitchen. For starters, you always had easy access to a late night snack, and also, you were always first to try Wanda’s cooking whenever the delicious smell drifted through the air.

But it also meant that everyone walked past your room whenever they needed to go to the kitchen, whether it be for an early breakfast or for a simple glass of water. You didn’t think it’d be a problem, until you realized you did in fact live with a team full of superheroes who each did not have the most friendliest of pasts, meaning nightmares were a common occurrence.

You often heard footsteps pass your door in the middle of the night followed by the soothing sound of water flowing from the sink, though it was rarely loud enough to actually disturb your slumber.

Tonight was one of those nights. Light footsteps padded down the hallway, and you could fairly hear the squeak of a cabinet, the one that stored all the mugs if you had to take a guess. Of all the people in the compound, at least those currently not on a mission, you only knew one who drank their water out of a mug: Natasha.

Clicking on your light, you pulled back the covers, shivering slightly as the brisk cold air hit your bare legs. You slipped on a pair of Rudolph slippers, which Pietro had gifted you ironically for Hanukkah, and made your way into the kitchen.

Upon your entrance, Natasha looked up, setting her mug down on the counter, and offered you a tired smile. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No,” you lied easily, stifling a yawn as you moved to seat in the stool across from her. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Something like that,” she shrugged nonchalantly before sipping her drink.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Natasha stared at you, the inner turmoil clear in her eyes. “Not really, but thank you.”

“Of course” you smiled, as you slid off your seat to grab some water. Knowing the former assassin like you did, you had a feeling she probably wouldn’t be going to sleep again tonight, even if she retreated back to her room. As you filled your glass, an idea popped into your head.

“Do you wanna, um, maybe you wanna—,” you stuttered, a slight blush creeping up your neck. “Do you wanna sleep with me?”

As soon as the words escaped you, your eyes widened, and Natasha raised her eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you shook your head. “I just meant sleep in the same bed, actually sleep, because I know I always sleep better when I’m not alone, and I mean when I’m in the presence of someone else not that other thing. I’m just going to stop talking now.”

Natasha chuckled at your rambling. “(Y/N), I know what you mean.”

“Right,” you looked down bashfully.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back to sleep and I don’t wanna keep you up.”

“Don’t worry about it, Nat,” you internally rolled your eyes at her predictable response before putting on your best pout. “Please, for me?”

Unable to resist, your puppy eyes being one of her few weaknesses, Natasha playfully rolled her eyes. “Alright.”

You beamed as the two of you made your way back down the hall and into your room. As you entered, immediately heading back to bed, Natasha stopped to look around, and you realized this was the first time she’s seeing your room.

As if she could sense your nervousness, which she probably could, Natasha slowly walked towards you. “It’s nice,” she motioned to the space around her. “Very you.”

“Thanks?”

“It’s a compliment, (Y/N),” Natasha assured with a slight chuckle, as she pulled back the covers to slip into bed.

“Oh, sorry,” you felt your cheeks warm. “Thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” she yawned, as you both laid down, sinking into the mattress.

“Don’t mention it, Nat,” you rolled over to turn the lamp off. “Get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N/N),” Natasha mumbled, her eyes already closed.

“Goodnight,” you returned softly, briefly admiring the sleeping woman before letting slumber take you as well.

—

The next morning, you were slightly disappointed to wake up to a cold bed, though you couldn’t say you were necessarily surprised. You knew Nat was not one to share her feelings with others often, so you had a feeling that last night was going to be a one night thing.

Feeling the heat radiating from the floor, you leave your slippers behind and head into the kitchen, following the wafting scent of pancakes.

“Morning,” you greeted Sam, Wanda, Steve, and Clint, who were all eagerly awaiting the other woman’s homemade breakfast.

“Good morning, (Y/N/N),” she chirped, turning around from the stove, still holding the spatula.

“Hi Wands,” you smiled, pecking her cheek before reaching around her to grab a mug for some coffee. “Where’s Piet?”

The three of you were like three peas in a pod ever since the twins joined the team. You had been quick to forgive them after everything with Ultron, as you weren’t one to hold grudges.

“He had to leave for a mission with Tony and Nat earlier,” she explained, turning her attention back to the skillet.

“What? Why wasn’t I called?” you turned to Steve, confused as to why Natasha, your usual mission partner, was sent out but you weren’t.

“They needed Pietro’s speed, so I swapped you two and you’re going tomorrow,” the captain informed, before adding with a knowing smirk, “Besides, Natasha can handling herself.”

“I know,” you grumbled under your breath, still slightly irritated.

“Speaking of Nat,” Sam butted in, a devious glint in his eye, “I saw her leave your room this morning. Fun night last night?”

All heads whipped towards you, and Wanda turned around so fast that a half-cooked pancake went flying through the air.

“What?” you coughed, nearly choking on your coffee. “It’s not—we didn’t—nothing happened.”

“Like that’s believable,” Sam snorted, hiding a grin behind the rim of his cup, as the rest of the group chuckled under their breaths.

“I’m being serious, guys,” you insisted with a whine. “She just stayed over because I was having trouble sleeping.”

So you bent the truth slightly, but you didn’t want to say anything about Natasha that she didn’t want the team knowing about.

“Okay, we believe you, (Y/N/N),” Wanda winked at you, knowing your harbored feelings for the redhead. “We’ll drop it,” she raised her eyebrow at the guys, daring them to protest.

“Right,” Sam nodded, while Steve and Clint just shook their heads, amused by everybody’s antics.

“Now come on,” Wanda placed a plate full of pancakes in the middle of the island, “let’s eat.”

You spent the rest of the day doing the usual training and paperwork, and though it was no mission, you were completely exhausted by the time your body hit the mattress. Your body was sore after Steve and Wanda put you through the wringer during training, and while Natasha was your usual sparring partner, at least she didn’t have magical powers that could practically throw you across the room.

Picking up your book, you slump back into your pillows and pull up the blankets.

Almost fifteen minutes later, you hear a soft knock on your door. As you finish the page you’re on, you call out to the person behind the door, “Come in.”

“Hey,” Natasha’s raspy voice causes you to put your book down and look up.

“Hey, Nat,” you greet, as you pat the spot next to you, inviting her to join you. “How was the mission?”

“It was fine,” Nat responded succinctly, and you knew not to ask further. Despite your indirect invitation to join you, she made no movement to accept. “Um, do you think I could, uh, sleep here tonight? Again? With you?”

Softening, you took a second to relish this moment of vulnerability and to observe the other woman. Despite clearly being worn out from her mission, slight scratches and heavy fatigue decorating her features, she still had a radiance to her that awed you.

“Of course you can,” you scooted off to the right side of the bed and pulled down the blankets for her. “Get in.”

Natasha sent you an appreciative smile before sliding off her slippers and getting under the covers. Shutting your book, you put it on your bedside table and rolled not your side to look at her.

“You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

Still on her back, Nat was staring at the ceiling, and if her eyes weren’t open, you’d think she’d fallen asleep already. “It was a tough one,” she huffed, shifting on her side so her face was inches from yours. “We were outnumbered right from the get go. And it should’ve been an easy get-in-get-out intel collection but our information must have been wrong.”

You knew there was something more that was bothering her because, usually, Natasha wasn’t fazed by unexpected surprises or missions going awry. But you patiently waited for her to continue, wanting her to open up to you on her own.

“They had kids there, (Y/N),” she revealed breathlessly. “Kids.”

You cringed, knowing all too well how difficult cases with captives were but even more so when they were children.

“You did your job, Nat,” you soothed reassuringly. “You got them out. You saved them.”

A moment of silence hung over your heads before she closed her eyes and turned onto her back, “I know.”

Watching the other woman, you couldn’t help but twist your lips, not knowing what to say to ease her worries. “Get some rest, Nat,” you switched the light off. “Tomorrow’s a new day.”

—

Your phone alarm woke you up the next morning, and you mentally cursed yourself for forgetting. Groggily, you opened your eyes and shut it off, checking the time.

5:00 am.

You glanced over your shoulder to see if Natasha had woken up, but the redhead only stirred slightly before falling back asleep.

Sighing, you quickly jotted down a note for her, telling her that you had to leave for a mission, before getting dressed and gathering your things to head down to the quinjet.

When Natasha awoke, three hours later, she frowned at the sight of your empty side of the bed. Before she could get too upset, she spotted a small piece of paper on your pillow.

Nat—

Had early an early mission. Sorry I forgot to tell you.

Hope we’re still down for training tomorrow?

See you later :)

—(Y/N)

Natasha’s lips twitched upwards, her heart swelling at your adorable smiley face. While the former assassin knew she had feelings for you, ones that went beyond teammates or even friendship, she didn’t want to get hurt. After everything with Bruce, the will-they-won’t-they back and forth, Natasha wasn’t ready to put herself out there again, no matter how much she wanted to.

—

You, Steve, Clint, and Sam returned later that evening, and you wanted nothing more than to take a steaming hot shower and collapse in your bed. But before you could do just that, Wanda stopped you in the kitchen.

“Where are you going?”

“To bed?” you furrowed your brows, unsure as to why your friend was depriving you of cleanliness and sleep.

“You haven’t eaten,” Wanda stated as if it was obvious, nodding to whatever, you had to admit, smelled delectable.

“But—,” you went to protest but the brunette was quick to interrupt.

“(Y/N),” she raised her brow and dangerously tilted her head, “you need to eat.”

“Fine,” you relented, sagging your shoulders in defeat. “At least let me shower first.”

Wanda nodded before calling after you, “You better be back out here in thirty or else I’m coming to get you.”

Nodding, you knew your best friend was not messing around. As you entered your room, you were already working on unzipping your suit and unstrapping your weapons. Though you were tired, you were still alert enough to sense someone else’s presence.

You snapped your head up, grabbing the knife still strapped to your thigh, only to see Natasha sitting against your headboard reading a book, her body covered by your blanket.

“Jeez, Nat,” you clutched your chest, “you scared me.”

“Sorry,” she smiled sheepishly.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, as you moved to peel of your mission attire.

“Well,” Natasha hesitated briefly, “I was wondering if I could sleep here again?”

Closing your dresser drawer, you turned around to face her, but before you could answer, she continued.

“You don’t have to say yes or anything. It’s just I find that I sleep better here that alone in my room, but I don’t wanna bother you or disrupt your space, so if—“

“Natasha,” you chuckled, interrupting her rambling, “of course you can sleep here.”

You saw her let out a small breath of relief, causing the corners of your mouth to curl upwards.

“I’m gonna take a shower and then go eat some dinner, if you want to join me,” you explained and pointed to the bathroom door, before your eyes widened. “I meant join me for dinner not in the shower. Wanda’s cooking and she’s making food and I’m sure she made plenty for everyone if you want to join? You don’t have to. I don’t know if you already ate but—“

“(Y/N/N), don’t worry. I knew what you meant,” this time, it was Natasha’s turn to interrupt you. “I ate earlier but thanks.”

Nodding awkwardly, you turned on your heels and headed into the bathroom. The streams of hot water did wonders for your aching muscles. Before you could get lost in your thoughts, you felt Wanda poking around in your head.

“You better hurry up, (Y/N),” she projected. “Your food is getting cold.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you muttered under your breath. Wanda rarely used her powers on you, and you knew that when she did, it was always out of good intent.

As you dried off, you realized you didn’t bring you pajamas into the bathroom with you. “Crap.”

Trying to sneak out into your room without Natasha noticing was an impossible mission, but one you desperately attempted. You slowly turned the handle and peeked through the door, making sure the redhead’s attention was still on her book. As you tiptoed out, hair still wet and in just your towel, Natasha looked up, her eyes widening and lips parting at the sight of your bare skin.

“Sorry,” you grimaced. “Forgot my clothes.”

When Natasha didn’t say anything, too stunned to speak, you gave her a tight smile before scurrying back into the bathroom. Once you were fully dressed, you came back out, still in the process of drying your hair with a towel.

“Sorry about that,” you apologized again.

“It’s not a problem,” Natasha smirked, having recovered from the initial shock.

“Right,” you let out a nervous chuckle. “Well, I’m just gonna go eat dinner now.”

You turned to leave before you could embarrass yourself any further. As you shut the door, you could faintly hear a small laugh from the other woman, causing you to shake your head amusedly.

By the time you finished dinner and dessert, which Tony had so graciously dropped off after his date with Pepper, it was already pretty late. So you were not surprised to see Natasha already asleep, curled up under the covers.

Careful not to wake her, you slowly got into bed. As your weight caused the mattress to dip, Natasha rolled over, immediately seeking out the warmth of your body. You tensed, as she unexpectedly nestled into your side, her head resting against your shoulder and her hand finding the exposed skin just beneath the hem of your pajama shirt.

As you moved your arm around her, bringing her closer to your body, you relaxed and subconsciously combed your fingers through her red locks.

Turning your head slightly, you took a moment to admire the sleeping woman. For someone who’s front was so stoic and hard, Natasha’s features were inherently soft: the natural plumpness of her lips, the way her eyelashes curled on their own.

Looking at her now, you felt as you truly saw Natasha, completely stripped of her Black Widow facade.

“You’ll never have to sleep alone as long as I’m here,” you whispered. “Sweet dreams, Nat.”

You pressed a quick kiss to the crown of her head before letting your head hit the pillow. As you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, you missed the small sleepy smile forming across Natasha’s lips.

—

A couple of days later, you found yourself on a mission that required all hands on deck, meaning the entire Avengers teams was out in the field plus Fury and Hill over the comms. Though difficult, the firing HYDRA soldiers were nothing you or anybody else couldn’t handle. Everything was going pretty smoothly.

Until it wasn’t.

As you and Natasha were running back to the jet, a stray HYDRA soldier fired twice, once in your thigh and once in your back. Immediately, you fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

“(Y/N)!” Natasha screamed before spotting the man who shot you and aiming her gun at him. You knew he was dead; Nat never missed. Rushing over to you, she kneeled by your side, frantically trying to find your wounds amidst all the dirt and blood that covered you.

As she pressed hard onto your abdomen, you grunted in discomfort.

“I know,” Natasha soothed with a sniffle, desperately trying not to cry, but you could see the tears clouding her green orbs. “I know it hurts, but you’re gonna be alright. You’re gonna be okay.”

Feeling yourself weakening, you put your hand on top of hers. “Nat,” you sighed, and she met your eyes, “we both know that’s not true.”

“No,” she shook her head desperately, “you’re gonna be fine.”

“Natasha,” you said as firm as you could muster, “I need you to know…”

As you trailed off, Steve’s voice came over the intercoms.

“Romanoff, (Y/L/N),” the captain yelled, “there’s a bomb set to destroy the base. Get back to the jet. Now!”

“I’m not leaving her,” Natasha cried.

“Natasha,” you gasped, “you have to go.”

Shaking her head again, she cradled your face, not caring about the blood that stained her hands. “No, I’m not leaving you,” she said with fierce determination, a trait you always admired of hers, though dare you call it stupid stubbornness at times.

“Please,” you coughed, blood dripping out of the corner of your mouth, “for me.”

Your last words came out so weak that if Natasha wasn’t inches from your face she wouldn’t have heard them. As she realized that your breathing had stopped, a sob escaped her lips.

“I love you,” Natasha whispered, resting her forehead against yours, briefly forgetting the fact that she was in the middle of a battlefield. “I’m sorry I never told you.”

“Natasha!” Steve yelled in her earpiece. When she didn’t respond, too stuck in her grief, he called again, “Natasha!”

This time, she got to her feet, as she wiped her nose. Running as fast as her feet could take her, knowing she had little time before the bomb was going to go off, Natasha couldn’t stop the tears from blurring her vision. As she saw the figure of the jet in the distance, the bomb exploded, her ears ringing as she went flying.

Faintly, she could hear her name being called from her team. “Natasha!”

“Natasha!”

“Natasha!”

Natasha’s eyes flew open, almost expecting herself to be in the med bay, but was startled to see your concerned expression hovering over her.

“Hey,” you offered her a worried smile, your hands still resting on her shoulders. “You were having a nightmare, a pretty bad one by the looks of it. Are you alr–“

Before you could finish, Natasha leaped forward, wrapping her arms around you. “Oh my god,” she sighed, relief evident in her voice. “You’re alive.”

Pulling back from her, you tilted your head. “Of course I am, Nat.”

“But I saw you,” Natasha shook her head, unable to stop the break in her voice. “I saw you die right in front of me.”

“Oh, baby,” the pet name slipping out naturally, as you pulled her back into your body, cradling her head soothingly. “I’m right here. You hear that?” You asked, knowing her ear was right over your heart.

“I’m still alive.”

Moving to sit upright, Natasha sniffled and wiped her face. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you softly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. As your finger tips lightly brushed her cheek, Nat lifted her head to meet your eyes.

“(Y/N),” she whispered, thinking this was as good a time as any.

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Natasha revealed, causing you to bite back a smile that was threatening to take over your face. “I think I have been since the first day I met you. And I realized that life is too short to be holding myself back from what I want, especially in our line of work.”

As she searched your face for any response, you grinned, eyes shining with adoration and relief. Surging forward, you cupped her cheeks and brought her in for a tender kiss.

Natasha immediately reciprocated, and your lips melted together beautifully. Before you could get lost in the taste of her, air became a necessity and you both separated, breathing heavily.

Leaning her forehead against yours, Natasha gently wiped a stray tear that had fallen down your cheek. “Why are you crying, detka?”

“I’m just so happy,” you giggled and nuzzled your nose against hers.

“Me too,” she beamed, smiling against your lips, kissing you once more.

As the two of you fell asleep that night, your limbs tangled together, you thought to yourself,

This is what dreams are made of.

———

taglist: @when-wolves-howl @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

Steve *talking to the team*: Since we’re talking physical capabilities, on a scale of 1-10, how flexible are you?

Bucky: Why do you need to know that?

Steve: To measure how well you can bend out of the way of projectiles.

Wanda: *Does the back bend*

Natasha: *Does some impossible ballet poses*

Y/N: Does it count When Natasha bends me ove-

Steve: NO!

DROP

SOME

REQUESTS

SURPRISINGLY I AM ALIVE AND IM GOING TO TRY TO WRITE AGAIN SOOOO

DROP SOME REQUESTS !!!

Hello how are you? Ship plz with a man from Marvel and Harry potter. My name is Julie but I have many nickname so I barely hear the real one,I'm a 5.5 French curvy women with black hair and black eyes. So me I'm a slytherin andindependent, feminist,distant but very chill and funny caring and loyal too. In my group I'm the popular one and big sis, I hate arguments so I communicate.For my hobbies I love listening to music, singing, playing video games, watching TV, cartoons, cooking, telling jokes

—I ship you with Cedric Diggory!

look at this pretty boy wow

he’s just so drawn to you if we’re being honest with yourselves. you don’t really get it but you’ll catch him staring at you in class and then he’ll just get this goofy smile when you notice him and you’re vehemently confused

and THEN he asks you to the ball. okay makes sense. you’re hesitant at first, i mean this is cedricdiggory? but he’s got this small and even though he asked with full confidence, you can tell he’s nervous and oh what the hell!

also whatever you want to do, cedric’s here for it. whatever you want to do, whether it be cook or sing, he’s just ready to sit and be supportive. he just really loves you okay, let this fluffy haired boy be. 

you’re just always there for him and he wants you to be proud of him and gosh. he’s so determined to be the perfect boyfriend and never wants to argue and if you guys ever did, he’d apologize in about half a second. you are NOT going to be sad on his watch okay.

love your hufflepuff boyfriend. love him.

—I ship you with Bucky Barnes!

*cracks knuckles bc its my first marvel ship*

welp, this guy needs some serious love. poor brainwashed metal man. and you happen to be a witch, less so like wanda or strange. like you’re legitimately like a witch from like charmed. 

gosh you just want to help this man! he’s troubled and has a whole metal arm. you have empathy and every so often you can just calm his thoughts. his mind never stops for a few moments they do and he couldn’t thank you more.

around you, he feels normal. he just wants to be around you constantly. you don’t freeze up around him or treat him differently. you suggest movie nights to watch movies he wouldn’t have seen or sometimes it’ll be early in the morning and he can’t sleep so you’re on the couch, munching cereal and watching cartoons with him

he loves it. you joke with him, teach him how to cook—he’s not great though, sorry buck—and play video games. he’s not great either. technology is a little hard for him but he appreciates you helping him, he appreciates yOu. 

GUYS!

I’ve been inactive for awhile now and well, oOf. Y’all have sent in requests and I haven’t done anYtHing. In fOrEver.

My online school is kinda kicking my ass rn bUt I’m determined to come back, so!

SHIPS!

I’ve reached 100 followers and as a thank you and also to apologize for dying off, I’m doing ships!

Send me an ask describing yourself and I’ll ship you! Request which fandom you want a ship for and then describe yourself!

Example:

“Ship for Teen Wolf please? Male or female! I’m a 5’7 brunette INTP, ravenclaw who’s insanely sarcastic and pessimistic. I’m kind of dorky and bitter and I enjoy writing and reading. I’m fairly smart and pretty funny. Thx!”

I have no idea if that’s the right character limit for an ask? But you guys get the idea! So! Send away! I’ll be here!

y’all i’ve been so productive today. i’ve got like two, almost three, posts qUEUED.

sEND IN MORE REQUESTS ILY

KIDS PLS REQUEST. REQUEST AWAY. REQUEST PLS.

im gonna start cranking out these imagines so request while you cAN. REQUEST RIVERDALE, TEEN WOLF, REQUEST! MARVEL, DC!

check my fandoms out bY CLICKING THE LINK IN MY BIO! CHECK OUT MY PROMPT LIST IF YOU’RE OUTTA IDEAS BUT YOU RLY WANT THAT BETTY COOPER IMAGINE.

DO IT ALL.

REQUEST.

idk why i chose this gif idk

Masterlist

Riverdale

Still Do - FP Jones x Fem!Reader

Teen Wolf

Following a Lead — Liam Dunbar x Reader

Scowling — Brett Talbot x Hale!Reader

Supernatural

Marvel/DC

Wormholes and Spacetime — Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader

Missed Me —Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Reader

The 100

Supergirl — Bellamy Blake x Reader

Fatherhood — Bellamy Blake x Fem!Reader (Modern!)

Forever — Clarke Griffin x Reader

Harry Potter

Wormholes and Spacetime

Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader

Warning: Science, lowkey angst?

Summary: Alone in the lab, Y/N Stark is having trouble sleeping. Per usual. But a certain patriotic fellow can’t help but intervene.

Requested by anonymous

Prompts: 

31. “I haven’t slept in ages.”

94. “I had a bad dream again.”

what better day to post this tHEN FOURTH OF JULY. HAPPY BIRTHDAY OLD MAN.

It was late. You didn’t know how late but you were sat in your father’s lab, hunched over the workbench, your mind perhaps too fogged to think clearly.

You were attempting to work on an invention but science was far from ready for it which made things just a tad too complicated. With a sigh, you got to your feet and grabbed a marker off of the table.

You began to scribble on the clear board, trying to calculate the science you needed. But Rome wasn’t built in a day and this equation certainly wouldn’t be solved quickly enough for your liking. “That’s a lot of numbers.”

You jumped at the unexpected voice, the marker almost slipping from your grip. You spun around, surprised to see the familiar face of Steve in the doorway. “Steve?” you questioned, furrowing your eyebrows. “What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he responded, adjusting his crossed arms as he leaned against the doorframe. 

You let out an amused chortle, turning back to the board. “I haven’t slept in ages,” you confessed, your tone perhaps a little too bitter. You were tired, you wanted to sleep. But you were beyond tired at the same time and sleep just wasn’t an option. “Why are you awake?” 

“Do you know what time it is?” Steve asked, stepping further into the room. You could feel him a few steps behind him as your face scrunched up in confusion. You reached over, clicking it on. 

“It’s almost five in the morning,” you muttered with a tired sigh. You shook off the time and turned back toward the board. “I assume you’re going to go for a run or some other...manly thing.” 

Steve let out a light chuckle, letting his lips pull into a small smile. “Sounds about right. What about you? What are you working on?” 

“Wormholes,” you answered sharply, setting down the black marker and picking up a red one. You took off the cap, it now sitting between your lips as you added onto the equation. “More precisely, I want to make portals.”

“Portals?” Steve questioned, tilting his head slightly. He seemed genuinely interested so of course, you were going to continue. 

“Wormholes are scientifically the only real way to...portal. I guess, basically, if I wanted to create a portal right here,” you paused, gesturing to the floor at your feet. “to go right there,” you pointed towards the wall a few feet away. “I’d need a wormhole to do it. Wormholes literally bend spacetime so that way this floor and that wall are back to back, making passing through the portal possible.” 

“Am I correct to assume that’s where you’re having an issue?” 

You let out a loud huff. “Yes! It’s exceptionally hard to just create a wormhole. It involves black holes and negative mass—because wormholes want to close almost instantly—and they’re so widely unstable because of the pressure and the atoms. Plus for all the negative mass being created, there has to be positive mass! Where’s that coming from? Where’s it coming from, Steve?” 

Steve quirked an eyebrow, the slightest amused smile on his face. “Is this what’s keeping you up?” You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t, but wormholes weren’t the whole story. You averted your gaze, turning back towards the board. “Y/N?” 

“I had a bad dream again,” you revealed finally, not daring to look at Steve. You could already imagine the sympathetic and sorrowful look he’d have and you couldn’t be bothered.

He was silent for a moment, which you expected. “What about?” 

“My dad,” you responded, deciding to just tell him. You knew talking supposedly helped. You didn’t quite buy into it but you figured you had nothing to really lose. “I know he enjoys being Iron Man and all, but hell. I’m worried, you know? He’s a hero, yeah, but he’s my dad. He gets hurt, Steve. I’ve seen him sometimes...it’s bad. I just...I just don’t think I ever want to lose him.” 

“Why the wormholes?” 

“Do you know how useful they’d be in a fight?” you gasped, turning to him. “I wanted to somehow make a mechanism like a blaster or sorts that could concentrate all of that energy and shoot portals. Like a portal gun, I guess. I mean, appearing behind the enemy in a fight. Talk about the upper hand.” 

“You wanna use it,” Steve realized, looking over your anxious figure. “You wanna be able to fight with us.”

“I wanna be able to protect my dad,” you corrected, countered even. “I just,” you sighed. “it’d make me feel better. But wormholes are so difficult! How am I just supposed to bend spacetime?!” 

“Y/N,” Steve began, offering you a small smile. “your father’s one of the toughest men I’ve ever met. It’ll be a long time before you ever lose him. I can promise you that.” 

You enjoyed hearing such a reassurance. You’d told yourself that many times but hearing someone else say it sure felt better. It surely felt more comforting than your own overwrought voice. 

“He’d say the same thing,” you told him. “I guess I should probably give up the wormholes for awhile. Besides, it’d be far easier to construct a laser rifle or something of the sort. That’s just polished light crystals that focus a concentrated light beam. Far easier to produce, no recoil, and no universal lawbreaking.” 

“Maybe you should do that another time,” Steve offered, causing you to quirk an eyebrow. “It is five...in the morning.” You chuckled softly, recalling the minimal sleep you’ve gotten. “You can try again later.” 

“Will you be here to question my science?” you asked, only partially joking. You did enjoy having Steve in the lab, intently listening to your every word with real interest. Maybe he wasn’t a scientist himself but he did enjoy it all nonetheless.

“If you ask nicely,” he mused, shooting you a smile. You smiled in return, setting your markers aside and grabbing your phone. 

“Night Steve,” you hummed, turning to leave. Then in a swift movement, you spin on your heels and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. You were appreciative of him talking to you and you weren’t one to not say thanks. With that, you began out the door.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Missed Me

Peter Parker/Spiderman x Reader

Warning: Criminal activity??? Idk fam

REQUESTS ARE OPEN. DROP ME ONE. SWING ON BY. OR REQUEST A PART TWO FOR THIS. DO SOMETHING. THX.

To say you were a criminal felt like an insult. You weren’t a criminal, you were someone who had a gift and chose to use it to your benefit. Perhaps that was a criminal but you just called it being resourceful.

You sat on the counter of the darkened store, your legs dangling over the edge as you swung them back and forth. You held up the necklace to the little moonlight that peeked in through the otherwise pitch black store and thought it over. You were unsure whether your sister would really like the rhinestone heart charm but hell, it was the thought that counted, right?

You pocketed the necklace and hopped off the counter, humming softly to yourself. You then began to make your way through the store, looking at the various items that lined the racks and shelves. You never stole more than two to four things, you weren’t that much of a thief. And you only stole the cheaper things anyway.

You practically bounced around the store, like a child who was told they could pick any candy they wanted. The surveillance camera was of little concern to you, why, it’s not like the cameras could see you anyway.

The store was pitch black and because of some little accident, you were too. You liked to call it shadow blending, but you didn’t really know what it was. Either way, you could manipulate the shadows around you and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to use that to your advantage.

Just as you spotted a particularly attractive vest, you heard a noise off behind you. “A silent alarm, of course,” you scowled to yourself as you slinked around the clothing rack to look around the store. If the police were going to respond, you had to be out of there quick. Your powers wouldn’t work if the store was all lit up.

Instead, you saw no police. You just saw some kid in a flashy red and blue suit. “Hellooo?” he called out, looking around the store curiously. You quirked an eyebrow, wondering if he really thought someone would respond. “Burglars...you there?” He asked again and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

Quickly your eyes widened as you scampered away from where you’d been standing, his attention now turned to where you previously were. You stood a few feet behind him now, mulling over whether or not you should mess with him. Making shadows move was just harmless fun for you.

You stepped closer to him, intending to concentrate on the shadows that surrounded you but it was like he could just sense you. He spun around on his heels and before you knew it, you found yourself back against the wall, some sort of netting (webbing rather) holding you in place as your illusion had worn itself off. “You know, it’s illegal to steal right?” He asked you, sounding fairly proud of himself. The hood over your head covered enough of your face that he shouldn’t be able to identify you, at least you hoped. This had never happened before.

Stupid silent alarms.

“You know it’s wrong to trap people to walls?” You shot back, struggling against the bindings. “Let’s make a deal here Spiderboy, you let me down and I won’t steal.”

“It’s...Spider-Man actually,” he corrected, somewhat sheepishly for a hero.

“Okay cool, let me down.”

“It’ll dissolve in a few hours, you’ll be fine. Just long enough for the cops to get here,” he told you matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest. You could just imagine his face underneath that mask of his looking so proud about capturing you. With that, he began to head out. Well more or less, jump on top of a clothing rack, preparing to swing out of the open door. Clearly he was bit of a showboat.

“Yeah well, I have homework.”

“Should’ve thought about that before!” he called out, his voice fading into the night as you struggled against the binding before hanging your head. You let yourself calm as you concentrated hard on the darkness that surrounded you. You had only ever thought about your next step in theory, but you’d never actually done it.

If you could manipulate the darkness, could you solidify it? You felt your head pound as the concentration took its toll but you found yourself fall to the floor as your plan had worked and you managed to use the darkness like a knife, slicing you free.

You could hear the sounds of sirens in the distance and you sure weren’t going to stay around, as you rushed out the way you had came.

————————

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” you heard his voice tease as you spun on your heels to face the Spider, who perched on the check out counter. Robbing a closed convenience store should’ve been an easy in-and-out job.

“Slow day?” You quipped, putting your hands up in false surrender. You certainly weren’t going to give up just because ‘Spiderboy’ thought he could take you.

“Night, actually,”

You hummed in response before sprinting to the side, using the darkness like a shroud to disappear. Just like you had hoped, he wasn’t ready as he jumped off of the counter and frantically searched the store for you.

“Missed me!” You yelled, as you had sprung over the check-out counter. In the confusion, you had gotten behind it and took the chance to ambush him. You pressed your hands into his back, shoving him into the nearest convenience rack. You then took off towards the entrance, but found the thick webbing tight around your hand.

“Missed me,” he retorted, pulling you back and swiftly connecting the webbing to the counter. Before you could even try to muster a reply, he sprung from the shop, leaving you high and dry. Or webbed and waiting for the cops.

You used your free hand to try and pry yourself free but no use. “What is this stuff made out of?” You asked aloud to no one in particular before settling for your previous escape attempt.

You snatched some gummy worms off the checkout counter before exiting the store, and literally disappearing into the darkness of night.

————————

The bakery was dark, as were you as you dragged your fingertips across the glass case that housed all of the delicious treats. Of course, you could try and make these at your apartment but chances were you’d just die trying.

Hopping behind the counter, you headed toward the encased cakes and surveyed them all. You truly wished you could have all of them but you knew that the delicate white one with pink flowers was all you really needed. Grabbing the large cake plate and pulling it out, you set it atop the counter. It was tough but you managed to resist the urge to swipe some of the frosting, though your subconscious was quite persistent.

You ducked down behind the counter as you grabbed a box for the cake, setting it inside. “You ever get tired of this?” You glanced up from your cake to spot the familiar blue and red boy in the bakery doorway.

“Do you?” You retorted as you shut the cake box, the Spider heading over. “Maybe if you let me go this one time, I’ll stop. Never know.”

He ignored you offer, probably knowing full well that you weren’t going to be that easy. “Nice cake,” he said instead while you moved the cake aside and stared at him across the counter.

The eyes of his mask seemed to squint at you before you lunged over the counter. He flipped backward, landing on all fours as you darted past him into the street. You made a mad dash down the desolate street, knowing full well he was probably swinging from the flickering light posts after you.

You spun around just in time to cause the light bulb of the post he was on to fritz out, making a loud popping noise. You thought you heard him shriek for a second as he jumped down onto the ground.

But you weren’t going to stay around to find out as you rounded the corner. You intended to round the block, duck back into the bakery, and snatch the cake before returning to the safety of your apartment.

The Spider was back a ways now, giving you just enough of a head start. You cut into the nearest alley, squeezing through the familiar hole in the fence as you ran back to the bakery.

You scooped up your cake box into your arms as you dashed out, only to cause the all too expected pest to jump from the roof and land in front of you. “I think it’s time for your just desserts,” he quipped as you just scoffed.

“Was that a pun, Spiderboy?” you asked before the webbing flew from his wrist and wrapped around your cake box. He pulled it from your hands into his own, before assuming his tactic from before of using the light posts. “I stole that fair and square,” you spat as you dashed after him, concentrating hard.

Luckily your powers were on your side as you created a dark sphere, that pushed the cake box from his grasp. You crashed onto your stomach as you reached out, both literally and with your powers for the cake box.

The cake box was cushioned by its fall into the shadows, you quickly dashing over to take it and run. All you had to do was get back home and then you were safe.

So, you ran and ran. The night covered you for as much as it could before you eagerly climbed the fire escape into your room. You didn’t know if the Spider was still following you but you didn’t have the energy to care. Aside from setting the cake onto your dresser, the last thing you remember was falling into a deep sleep on your bedroom floor.

————————

“Cordelia,” you sang as you lit the candles on the cake, your sister begrudgingly letting you. She swore she hated any acknowledgment of her birthday but you were living with her and she loved you and kept you alive so you were going to acknowledge it very much so. “I won’t sing because I know you’ll probably stab me, but blow out the candles!”

Cordelia rolled her eyes but leant forward, knocking the flames out with one good blow. You clapped happily as you let Cordelia slice the cake. She wasn’t one to object to cake or presents, she just didn’t enjoy being the center of attention. Though it was hard not to make someone the center of attention when there were only two of you.

You slid a small gift wrapped box across the counter with a smug grin as Cordelia rose an eyebrow. “If this isn’t a million dollars in cash, I’ll be very disappointed,” she confessed as you waved her off.

You reached a hand into the bag of gummy worms that you had also gifted Cordelia just when you heard the bell ring. You decided to ignore it just momentarily in order to witness Cordelia open her gift.

“Now this is actually beautiful,” Cordelia exhaled, taking out the necklace with a rhinestone heart. “Looks like you do have good taste after all, Y/N,”

You gave her a glare as you headed toward the door as the bell rung a second time. Pulling open the door, you were met with the face of your classmate, Peter Parker. You had completely forgotten that he was coming over to work on a project with you today. Why’d you even invite him over on your sister’s birthday?

You mentally scowled at yourself but gave Peter a smile. “Hey! We’re just finishing a little celebration-“

“Not a celebration!” Cordelia called out, making you roll your eyes.

“For my sister’s birthday. But you can come in and then we can get to work, yeah?” Peter nodded, adjusting the bookbag on his shoulder as you stepped aside to let him in.

You shut the door behind as your sister gave you a quizzical look, clearly wondering about the boy now in your apartment. “Oh yeah! Peter, this is Cordelia, sister. Cordelia, this is Peter, a friend from class,”

“Hi, it’s, uh, nice to meet you,” Peter greeted her as he gave her a shy wave.

“Slice of cake?” Cordelia offered as extended a plate out to Peter. Peter surely wasn’t going to turn down the slice as he took it from her and you moved to get your own.

“Did you make this?” He questioned you as you got a fork for him and yourself.

“Baking skills don’t really run in the Y/L/N family I’m afraid,” you joked, though it was all too true. Peter chuckled lightly too, eyeing the design of the cake. “Come on,” you instructed as you grabbed one more gummy worm and headed into your room with Peter following.

You two settled onto the floor in your room as you grabbed your bag. “What’s this for again?”

Peter attempted to answer you, but his mouth was full of cake so you just waved him off. As you searched your bag, Peter glanced around the room. His eyes landed on the familiar jacket you wore out at night. “Is...that yours?” He asked, his voice seemingly growing nervous.

You glanced up to spot the jacket on your chair. “I assume so, considering it’s in my room,” Peter chuckled lightly but something seemed off. “You okay, Parker?”

“Me? Oh yeah, definitely. I’m fine, completely fine,” he reassured, but you were quite positive something was off. Peter then turned his attention toward your window.

“I’ve got a great view,” you revealed, which was a clear joke. You certainly didn’t have much of a view besides the neighboring apartment building and the fire escape.

“You know what, I have to go!” Peter exclaimed suddenly, scrambling for his things. “Just remembered, my Aunt’s gonna be home soon and I, uh, wanted to...be there...before she...I have to go!”

Something was definitely wrong and you weren’t going to just let Peter go before you knew what. You jumped to your feet, standing in front of your bedroom door you stared him down. “You’re hiding something,” you decided, poking him in the chest.

“Me? Hiding something?” Gosh, he sounded like some cheesy comic book character. Though you had to admit, he was cute all flustered.

“You’re acting very weird,” you explained as you tried to figure it out yourself. He saw the cake and got suspicious, your jacket and got worried, and then saw your window and wanted to leave. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stared back at him. You took a step closer as Peter instinctively took a step back.

And so you stepped closer, and closer until Peter tumbled back onto your carpet after tripping over your backpack.

You looked down at him before deciding to try something. The worst that could happen was that he freaked more and ran off, which he was going to do anything. So, you stepped backwards some until you were able to reach the light switch.

You flicked the switch, the light in your room fading away. The only light now was the moonlight through your bedroom window. You stood before Peter now, your hand extended to your side. You closed your eyes for a moment as you caused a small sphere of shadow to appear in your palm.

You looked toward the Parker boy as you saw not fear nor even surprise in his eyes but a sense of confirmation like his suspicions were right. And for you, that’s when it clicked.

“It’s you,” you both gasped in unison as Peter scrambled to his feet and your hands fell down at your sides.

Peter Parker was Spider-Man? You didn’t know whether or not you bought it, but he did seem like the type.

“Does this mean you’re going to flirt with me now?” you asked, completely serious as you crossed your arms over your chest. Peter gasped at you, clearly not expecting such a response. “I mean, you flirted with me when I was out there so,”

“I was not!” Peter quickly defended himself but you just rolled your eyes. “You flirted with me!”

You gasped loudly, throwing a hand to your chest. Hell, you didn’t even know if you knew how to flirt let alone if you had the courage to do so. “I most certainly was not! I was merely a victim of bad puns!”

“That was one time!”

“I’m sure it was,” you countered as you both now stood before each other, without anything else to say. “...are you still going to leave? Because we do have a project to finish,”

“Are you going to hit me with darkness?”

“Darkness,” you chuckled, unsure if that was even what your power really was. “Not unless you try to steal the cake in the kitchen,”

“You tried to steal, I tried to return it,”

“Touché,”

And with that, the both of you sat down on the floor and resumed your work. Of course, now both of you were scarily aware of just what the other did in their free time. And for some reason all it did was more you look at the Parker boy in a new light.

A light in which you found yourself wanting to be in as well.

lock, stock, and barrel

summary: your dog locks you out of your car. the locksmith who shows up to let her out? is kinda hot 

pairings: scott lang x reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: you have a big dumbass dog (but a cute dumbass) and your dad is your wingman (and if you dont have a dad im ur dad now have you taken your meds today? wanna go fishing?)

a/n: this is based off of a tiktok i found, which you can watch here (x) nobody requested this but i love scott so much. big love. 

A van pulls up to the house, and parks in front of the driveway. It’s repurposed, definitely, with the words “X-Con Security Consultants” lovingly (read: clumsily) painted (read: scrawled) onto the side. 

“That’s Hank Pym’s kid,” your father says to your mother, and she scoffs.

“No he’s not, he's the intern boy,” she argues, but you don’t care who’s son he is or if he’s interning. He’s beautiful. He has a wide smile on his face as he makes his way from his sketchy van with a bag of tools in hand.

“Scott!” Your father greets, leaving your mother to grumble amongst herself about the man’s origins.

“Hey! Morning, sir!” Scott calls back, and your father gives him a firm handshake. Your father doesn’t notice the pain in Scott’s eyes when he does this, but you do, and you like him immediately for it.

Your father leads the conversation as he guides him over to your car, you shamefully stand by the passenger side, treats and toys in hand. You come around to greet them both.

“—it’s good for extra cash since our expertise is locks and security,” Scott finishes, and your dad listens with intense curiosity.

“Tell Pym I said hi,” he says, before noticing you.

“Ah, Scott, here’s the culprit,” he says, leading him over to you.

“Technically, Delilah is the culprit, dad,” you complain, and he scoffs a little.

“Who locked her in there?” he says playfully, and you gasp.

“She did!” you say, laughing, and there are smiles all around.

“Hi,” you say, introducing yourself, and Scott holds out a hand for you.

“I’m Scott,” he says, and you notice his hands are firm and soft, “I’m here to save your dog. And also your car.”

You smirk, “Thank you.”

You notice he smiles a lot, which is not something you mind. He places a small work bag down on the ground near your driver’s side. He bends his neck at awkward angles to try and make out where your buttons are through your tinted windows.

“Tell him what happened,” your dad encourages, crossing his arms with an ‘I told you so’ look on his face, though it doesn’t apply to this situation.

“I put her in my car to take her on a ride, and I was walking around the other side to get in, and she hit the lock button,” you say sheepishly, staring at Delilah.

Your father laughs and shakes his head, telling you to call him if you needed anything, returning inside to catch the rest of the baseball game for a team he couldn’t care less about.

“It happens to the best of us. She’s really cute,” he says encouragingly, and you smile, because she’s not the only cute one in your general vicinity.

“Hi Delilah!” He coos, and she barks at him.

“Delilah, no,” your mother scolds, and she stares at you from the passenger seat with her tongue out.

“Well, I see how it is,” he mutters, and you laugh. He looks back at you when you do and you notice the light on his hair and how he squints just a little bit when he smiles. He turns back to your car, and works a car door wedge into the window of the driver’s side door. His focus is intense. 

“Where you guys headed?” He asks, budging the wedge in and turning a crank on the side.

“We were just going on a ride. I kinda wanted to take her to get Starbucks, but now I’m not sure she deserves it,” you say, crossing your arms, knowing full well Delilah would get her puppuccino anyway.

“Aw, of course she does,” he says, looking at her panting at him through the glass.

“Isn’t that right, Delilah?” He says. She pays no attention to him. But it’s okay. You’re paying enough attention for the both of you.

“She has beautiful eyes,” he muses, and you hum in agreement.

“You have really nice eyes too,” you compliment accidentally, and you can feel the heat on your face as you try to play it off.

“Thank you,” he says, and you note his smile in the reflection of your car window as he falters with the wedge and the crank.

“Can I get you something to drink?” you say, and he stops. 

“Uh, sure,” he says. He kneels down in your driveway to look for something in the small bag of tools he brought with him.

“I think we have coke? And orange juice probably, unless you want like, a water or something,” you say, and he accepts the water offer.

You turn to leave, but your mom is already halfway in the house.

“I can go get it,” your mom says, throwing you a smile over her shoulder. 

You’re stuck in an awkward silence for a few minutes as he wiggles and pushes and tinkers with wires through your window. He pulls out a malleable wire and shoves it through the window wedge. You watch him work, with precise hands and concentration plastered on his face. But soon enough, with persistence and skill, Scott unlocks your car from the inside, carefully removes the car door wedge, and subsequently frees your poor pooch from her automated prison. 

He opens the door, and Delilah moves to the driver’s side to smell Scott. She jumps out of the car and starts sniffing around him, her leash hanging limply on the ground.

You retrieve it and let Delilah do her thing.

“Thank you so much,” you say, as he crouches down to say hello to your pup.

“Ah, it’s no problem,” he says, and begins speaking to Delilah in a baby voice, “especially when I meet cute puppies like you, yes I do, yes I do!”

Delilah is loving the attention, and she smiles as he pets her behind the ears. You give her butt a few taps and go to speak to Scott again, but your mom returns from the kitchen.

“I cut up some fruit for you guys,” she informs, like you two were best friends having a sleepover. She balances two cold bottles of water, and, sure enough, a plate of fruit she stole from a platter sitting in your fridge.

“Mom,” you whine a little, and your dad follows soon after, in pursuit of the fruit.

“I’m alright, ma’am. Thank you though.”

Your mom yells your dad’s name in the direction of the front door, clearly not seeing him behind her. He steals a chunk of fruit off the platter and complains, “I’m right here, woman,”

“Oh,” she says, laughing in your direction, before she informs him Scott had gotten Delilah out.

“Someone had to,” he grumbles, and he runs back inside to grab his wallet. 

You watch as Scott stands and grabs his bag, smiling at Delilah and turning to return the stuff to his van. Delilah decides to follow him.

“Delilah, please,” you beg, and she stops pulling on her leash, sitting like a good girl. You watch as he puts some things in his truck, fiddling with something in there, before you realize you’re staring. 

You open your driver’s side door, letting Delilah hop in that way instead, and climb in after her, bumping her off your seat. You stare at her intently. She smiles back, none the wiser. 

“You, are going to be the death of me,” you assure her, and you're startled by a knock at your window. 

You expect Scott, but it’s your dad. You roll down your window. 

“I asked specifically for Scott,” he assures, and smiles at you.

“Dad,” you groan, head thumping your headrest. You sigh.

“Don’t be weird,” you plead, and he scoffs.

“When have I ever been weird?” He asks, followed by, “Don’t answer that.”

You absentmindedly pet Delilah.

“You want his number?” he asks, credit card in hand. You turn in your seat to look at Scott. He’s walking around to the other side of his van for something. 

“Not from you!” you muse, and that’s all your dad has to hear, grinning in triumph. 

“Dad!” you whisper harshly, “Don’t be weird!”

“I won’t!” he says, mocking your raspy whisper. 

You watch in your rear-view mirror as your dad goes up to Scott and hands him his credit card. Some words are exchanged, and then your mother goes up to him too. You decide you can’t watch anymore, and you hide your face in Delilah’s fur. 

“Delilah, what are we gonna do?” you say, and her ears perk up, because in her mind, you two are going to Starbucks for puppuccinos. 

“Not that, Delilah. Scott is so cute,” you inform her. She already knows, her eyes tell you, and you look back over at them. 

Scott is smiling at your car. He sees your face, and he waves, causing your parents to look over at you. You blush, and wave back at him. Your dad sends you a signal, but you don’t know what it means, and your mom’s exaggerated wink is overkill. 

You sigh and check your phone. No alerts, alarms, or notifications to take your mind off of the situation. 

You hear Scott’s truck start up, and he pulls away as easily as he pulled in, and that’s that. Just another candle in the wind, a cute guy you’d never see again. But apparently, your parents had other plans.

Pulling out of the Starbucks drive-thru, you pull into a parking spot to let Delilah enjoy her cup of whipped cream. You take a sip of your icy beverage, and you hear your phone ding. Checking your notifications, you realize it’s from an unknown number, and your heart jumps thinking who it could be.

Opening your phone, Delilah whines in anticipation for the whipped cream in the Starbucks cup in the holder. 

“Hang on, ‘Lilah,” you say and you open your phone to read the message.

did delilah get her puppuccino?

You smile at the text, and move to take a picture while you let Delilah go to town on her treat. Your phone chimes again and you hold the cup with one hand, skillfully checking your messages with the other. 

it’s scott by the way. didn’t know if you could tell.

You text back Delilah’s picture. You could tell it was Scott. 

“Delilah,” you say, “thank you so much for locking my door. You’re such a good girl,”

She knows. She decides to accept her payment in puppuccinos from now on.

What Phone Sex Is Like With…

Bucky Barnes

———————————————————————————

Bucky had been away on a mission for a few weeks, and it took some adjusting for the both of you as it had been a long time since you two had been separated for even more than a few days.

It was lonely not having Bucky around the house, it was too quiet and too void of his comforting smell. You had gotten used to your sort of routine and you missed him dearly.

Somewhere thousands of miles away from his home, Bucky was thinking the exact same thing. He missed you, he missed waking up in the morning and getting to admire you for a little bit before you woke up and started your day. He even missed the cute little line of drool you would sometimes have on your face.

As Bucky thought about all the things he missed about you, he started to think about the way your skin felt on his, the way your hands felt roaming his body while your nails scratched down his back as he rutted against you.

Bucky readjusted himself in his bed as his pajama pants got increasingly tighter. He tried to ignore the feeling of the sudden arousal and will himself to go to sleep as there was a time difference and he didn’t want to disturb the deep sleep you were most likely in.

After about half an hour of tossing and turning Bucky sat up rubbing his face, while he was trying to sleep all the images his mind could conjure up were of you, writhing underneath him softly moaning his name as he touched you.

Which unfortunately for him, didn’t help at all.

The brunette threw the covers off of him, glancing at the clock as he made his way to the bathroom in the hotel he was staying at.

2:30 am. Goddamn it Barnes.

He splashed some cold water on his face trying to cool himself down and snap out of it, but he couldn’t help it. He missed his girl. Sighing after taking in his appearance in the mirror he turned the bathroom light off and returned to bed.

As he slid under the covers he thought about calling you, maybe hearing your voice would help him sleep, maybe not. But then again you were probably sleeping and he would feel terrible for interrupting that just because his dick was hard.

Deciding against it, Bucky slid his hands down into his boxers gently palming his erection. He could feel more blood rush into his cock so he rubbed harder, finally pushing his boxers down and letting his cock spring free. His right hand wrapped around his shaft and began to slowly move up and down not wanting to rush the feeling.

Bucky's lips parted slightly as he focused his mind on memories of you, he could still hear the way you begged him to let you cum as he edged you for the third time one night.

Remembering the sight of the tears of frustration in your eyes made Bucky let out a low groan. The more he thought about you, the faster he pumped until he just couldn’t take anymore, he had to hear your voice.

Bucky grabbed his phone off of the nightstand before finding your name in his contacts, pressing the call button he held the phone up to his ear, his hand still going as he listened to the ringing waiting for you to pick up.

After a few rings you finally answered “Bucky?” your sleep ridden voice came through the phone. “Hey sweetheart” Bucky grunted into the phone, the sound of your voice sending a shockwave through his body.

You could hear Bucky panting through the phone, still half asleep you thought something was wrong “Is everything okay? It’s like 3 in the morning, are you alright?” a soft gasp came through the phone “m’fine doll, I just, just need you so bad right now”

The sleep faded out of your system and was replaced by the tingling feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you finally heard the familiar rhythmic sounds in the background as Bucky moaned and gasped into the phone.

“Are you touching yourself Buck” You knew he was and it wasn’t even a question really, you just wanted to hear his whines as he said it. “Yes” His voice came out cracked “Yes fuck, I am. I couldn’t help it I’ve missed you so much y/n” he breathed. You let out a soft whimper at the way he said your name.

You laid back down in your shared bed, slipping a hand into your underwear as you listened to Bucky pleasure himself on the other end.

“What’s gotten you all worked up like this baby?” you moaned out. Bucky's hips bucked into his hand at the sounds of your moans “You did angel, couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you. Miss that wet little pussy begging for my cock”

Oh God how you loved it when Bucky talked dirty like this. Your hand started to spread the wetness that had pooled in your panties around your pussy just like Bucky's would do.

“Fuck Bucky” you groaned circling your clit with your wet fingers. As you started to pump your fingers inside of your pussy, Bucky could hear the squelching sounds and his mind conjured up a picture of what you had looked like in that moment.

A deep guttural groan came from the soldier and his hand came up to rub his thumb over the tip of his cock, spreading the precum over his shaft.

“Bet you look so fucking good right now doll, can just hear how wet that little cunt is for me. Tell me how wet it is baby” Bucky’s words went straight to your core and your back slightly arched off of your bed “So so wet Buck, need you so bad”

You managed to choke out through your gasps. “Fuck” He groaned “Love how needy and desperate you always sound, like a dirty little slut who’s just begging to be fucked”

Bucky chuckled at the way your breath hitched in your throat at the name he gave you “You like that don’t you, fucking whore” you could practically see the grin on his face as he exploited your desires. “Buck please I’m so close, I can’t-” your voice trailed off into a moan as the knot in your stomach tightened. “You wanna cum?” Bucky grunted out.

You could tell he was getting closer to his own orgasm by the way his voice was slightly strained. “Yes!” you blurted out “Yes please let me cum just-” you grunted, not really sure what you were saying but wanting Bucky to help you to sweet release.

Though you weren’t sure how it was possible, the skin on skin sounds of Bucky's hand on his cock got even faster and his groans turned into whimpers.

“Hang on just a little longer sweetheart. Wanna cum with you” You threw your head back in frustration “Almost there, be my good girl and keep rubbing that clit for me” You moved your fingers in tight circles over your slightly sensitive clit, juices coating your fingers.

By now you had put your phone on speaker, the sounds of Bucky’s and your frequent moans filled the room as you fought to keep yourself from succumbing to an orgasm.

“I can’t hold on any longer James,” you whimpered. Bucky let out a choked gasp “I’m gonna- shit” he breathed “Cum with me y/n” Bucky’s voice cracked as he moaned out your name, thick ropes of cum spilling over his hand and stomach. Listening to Bucky only made another wave of euphoria wash over you as you rode out your orgasm, back arching as your eyes squeezed shut.

As you came down from your high you could faintly hear Bucky praising you “Such a good girl for me sweetheart” and “Always do so well for me” reached your ears over now slight panting and you smiled. Even thousands of miles away and over the phone, Bucky was still providing the sweetest form of aftercare to you.

“Thank you doll” Bucky’s voice rang out. “I really needed that” You heard rustling as he cleaned himself and settled back into bed. As you did the same you asked “Stressed?” A quiet hum came through the phone that was now off speaker “Something like that”

You softly chuckled “Do you wanna talk about it now that you’ve destressed a little bit” Bucky let out his own laugh “Maybe later when I’m home doll”

You yawned tired from the late night activities “I’ll hold you to that” “Get some sleep y/n, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” You hummed in agreement, eyes starting to feel heavy. “I love you” Bucky's voice became deeper as sleep started creeping in “I love you too James”

Pressing the end call button and setting your phone on your nightstand to charge, you pulled your blankets over your shoulders as your eyes slid shut, ready to be another day closer to Bucky coming home.

Oh gosh I love your Imagines <3 Can I request a Steve imagine where you're a couple now for quite a Long time but you both wanted to go slow, so you havent slept together yet. One time Steve calls you to his Apartment and when you arrive he has already set up a dinner and is all dressed up. Later that evening you want to make the next step and Steve carries you to the bedroom and you end up having a sensual, night together? :) I love Your Imagines & I'd love some smut hihi

a/n: you sure can, thank you so much my love! <3 also sorry it’s so long, i think that when my brain sees the word sensual it’s like “make it super detailed for no reason” so yeah. it think this might be the longest one i’ve written so far but it’s okay, i love me some steven grant rogers. i really hope you enjoy it angel!

———————————————————————————

Being with Steve was almost enchanting at times, the way he treated you made you feel like you were in the 40’s being whisked into a whirlwind romance with the most handsome soldier you had ever laid eyes on.

Steve was notably from a different time, the way he treated you almost shocked you at first. He’d hold open doors for you, bring you flowers, pull out your chair. He even carried a handkerchief around when he was with you.

You and Steve had been dating for about 6 months when the topic of sex came up for the first time. It was one of the few times you had been to his apartment at the time, it was a regular movie night before heading to bed. As you settled in beside Steve, you looked to your left and you couldn’t help the thoughts that had swirled in your head.

“Steve?” You whispered “Yes y/n?” You weren’t sure if you wanted to bring it up at first, the subject being a bit awkward in the moment. Steve shuffled closer to you and absentmindedly rubbed his hand up and down your back, soothing you.

“Have you thought about what it would be like for us to, you know” you cleared your throat. In the dim room you could see Steve’s shy smile as he realized what you were hinting at. “Um, yes actually I have but here’s the thing” you swallowed waiting for the worst “I actually just wanna take it slow for a bit” you inaudibly sighed in relief

“What do you mean by that Stevie?” It was his turn to clear his throat. “I just, what we have right now is amazing. And believe me I have thought about it, many times, but I want to build up to it. I want to make it special” you smiled at the thought, again you knew that Steve was old fashioned in that way and his explanation eased your mind.

“Honestly, that sounds perfect” you agreed “Yeah?” He kissed your forehead and pulled you into him, his chest against your back. After that the conversation didn’t really come up anymore and it really had no need to, you both were perfectly content with taking it slow and just enjoying each other’s company.

Over the next six months things had been pretty much the same, but closer towards the year mark, you could feel how his kisses started to linger, how he would press his body all that much closer to yours at night, how his hands had gradually moved down your back every time he hugged you. The little things like that.

Even though you spent a lot of time at Steve’s apartment, you had only been dating for a year so you still lived on your own. Dates surprisingly were very often with Steve, it felt like every chance he had he was cooking dinner for you or taking you out somewhere, in short they were a very common occurrence but exciting nonetheless.

So when Steve texted you that night asking you to come over in nice clothing, you were excited to see him and see what he had planned. You hadn’t seen Steve in a while, he had just had a mission recently so he’s been a bit busy and you missed him.

You got dressed and headed over to Steve’s, practically bouncing in the driver's seat with excitement. You walked up to his door and heard the faint sound of music, and you smiled as you knew that Steve loved to play records from the 40’s.

You walked into a dimly lit apartment and Steve standing in the middle of the kitchen, your eyes darted around the room and you saw that Steve had made a gorgeous looking dinner and had set the table with candles and two glasses of wine.

“Steve” you gasped out “what’s all this for?” Wiping his hands on his pants Steve rushed to pull your jacket off your shoulders, hanging it by the door. He held his hand out to you and you took it, letting him pull you into him to give you a soft kiss on the lips. “I didn’t forget anything did I?” He let out a very cute laugh “No you didn’t forget anything honey, I just wanted to do something nice for you”

You leaned up and kissed him again “Well thank you Mr. Rogers” you pulled away and took a really good look at him “Speaking of something nice, you look amazing Steve” Steve was wearing a nice fitted navy blue button down tucked into what looked like black slacks, all of which fitted him perfectly. He offered you a shy smile and bowed his head as a silent thanks “Oh I almost forgot, let’s eat”

As you made small talk asking about his day and even smaller talk about the results of his recent mission, you heard a very familiar song come on. All of a sudden Steve got up and offered you his hand “May I have this dance Miss?” You smiled at him as you slipped your hand in his “Why yes you may, soldier” the meal long forgotten as Steve whisked you into the middle of the kitchen.

He wrapped his arm around your waist and your hand grasped his, your other hand sliding up to his shoulder as you began to sway back and forth. You reached up to kiss his cheek and feeling the bliss of the moment, you began to hum along as you closed your eyes.

Never thought that you would be

Standing here so close to me

There’s so much I feel that I should say

But words can wait until some other day

Steve twirled you around and smiled at you as he pulled you back into his arms.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It’s been a long, long time

Haven’t felt like this my dear

since I can’t remember when

It’s been a long, long time

He spun you out then back in, both of your laughs echoing off the walls of the apartment as he held you from behind.

You’ll never know how many dreams

I’ve dreamed about you

Or just how empty they all seemed without you

So kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It’s been a long, long time

As the excitement of the moment died out, you rested your head on his chest, and Steve had both of his arms wrapped around your waist holding you tightly against him. As the music died down, he pulled back. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned down to give you the sweetest kiss.

You gently rested your hand on the back of his head, everything else seemed to fall away until it was just you and Steve in your own little world. You both pulled apart, resting your foreheads together “I want to take care of you tonight” he finally whispered, eyes closed as it seemed that he was relishing the moment just as much as you.

“What?” You said as you pulled back to get a good look at your boyfriend. Steve opened his eyes to look at you “I want you, y/n” he said gently cupping your cheek “Only if you agree, I know we said we’d take it slow, and tonight has already been perfect. It’s your choice doll”

You leaned up nudging his nose with yours “Kiss me Steve” you two shared another passionate kiss as Steve picked you up bridal style and carried you to his bedroom. Steve eventually set you down on the corner of the bed, he stood in between your legs and leaned down to give you another kiss before helping you pull your shirt over your head.

As soon as your shirt was off, you pulled Steve’s shirt from where it was tucked in and began working on the buttons from the bottom up, pressing kisses up his torso until you were kneeling on the edge of the bed to reach. He grabbed your face in both hands as your lips met, you worked his belt free and slid it out of the loops, dropping it on the floor, both of your shoes already discarded god knows where.

Steve popped the button open on his pants before pushing you back on the bed, kissing down your stomach to your waistline. He undid the button on your jeans and pulled down the zipper, gently easing them down your legs as his lips followed, pressing kisses on the skin there, his own pants following suit with your help.

You held your hand out to Steve pulling him on top of you, missing the warmth of his body. You took his hands and guided them around your back. As he unclipped it he slid off your bra straps kissing your shoulders as they fell.

With a bit of effort you rolled the super soldier onto his back, giving him a kiss before trailing it down his neck and torso before you got to the waistline of his boxers. You looked up at him through your lashes to see that he was watching you through half lidded eyes.

You hooked your fingers in the band before sliding the material down his legs. You leaned down and pressed a very gentle kiss to the shaft, almost ghosting your lips over his cock. You could feel Steve tense slightly as you made a move to take it in your mouth. “Don’t” he said as he pulled you up “Tonight’s about you” “but Steve-“ he rolled the two of you over, face inches from yours “Let me make you feel good sweetheart, okay?”

Steve sat up, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he pulled your underwear gingerly down your legs. He ran his hands up your thighs before pulling them apart and kneeling at the foot of the bed. The blonde peppered warm kisses on each thigh, each one getting closer and closer to your already damp heat.

“Steve it’s not fair to y-” you cut yourself off with a moan as he pressed a kiss to your clit. Your hands wound in his hair as he started licking warm strips from your entrance to your clit “You taste so good honey, even better than I could’ve ever imagined” he mumbled against your pussy.

“Steve, I want you inside of me, please” you pleaded, desperate to have his cock inside of you. Steve crawled back up your body, he took his cock in his hand rubbing it through your folds before he pushed himself in.

Both of you let out gasps at the feeling of Steve inside of you for the first time, your hands grasped onto his sides as you waited for the slight stretching feeling to subside. Being with Steve was a whole new experience, completely unknown but oh so good. He planted soft kisses all over your face as you felt yourself begin to relax “I’m gonna move now sweetheart okay?” You nodded

Steve started out slow, interlocking your fingers on the pillow beside your head as he began to rock his hips back and forth “God you feel amazing” he breathed. It was erotic really, the way he moved. The deep pants, the way he made eye contact with you as he pushed you repeatedly into the soft mattress. It gave you a feeling similar to what you thought being high was like.

He slipped a hand underneath you and cradled your head closer as he began to move faster, now starting to help you chase your orgasms. Your hands dug further into his sides as you rested your chin on his shoulder, panting and moaning into his ear.

You could taste the saltiness of his sweat as you kissed his neck “I’m almost there Stevie” you whispered into his ear and you felt him shudder as you spoke. “Me too baby, just a little bit more”

He angled his hips and started to hit that spot inside of you just right. It felt like the wind got knocked out of you as he began hitting it over and over again, you felt Steve’s cock twitch inside of you as you clenched around him. “Steve I-“ you cut yourself off trying to catch your breath “Let go for me y/n, I’ve got you” all it took after that was one deep thrust and you were releasing all over his cock, clenching around him and scratching down his back.

Steve grunted at the feeling of you cumming and squeezing his cock, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth fell slightly open as he began to get closer to his own orgasm. You clenched around him again as you came down, wanting to help him cum himself. You pressed your lips to his neck as his thrusts started to get sloppier and needier “It’s your turn love, cum for me, I know you're almost there” you whispered in his ear again.

Steve gave one last hard thrust and was cumming inside of you, you closed your eyes and relished the feeling of the warmth he gave you. You rested a hand in his now sweaty hair and kissed his temple as he panted into your neck. Steve pulled back to look at you, the sight of you underneath him and slightly sweaty made him fall in love with you even more.

He slowly pulled out, holding back a groan at the sight of his cum spilling out of you, before getting a washcloth and gingerly cleaning up your sensitive pussy. Steve helped you into one of his clean shirts and a fresh pair of underwear before pulling new boxers onto himself.

The large man tugged you into his chest as he laid down, pulling the sheets over the two of you. “That was even better than I thought it would be” you admitted as you rubbed your fingers over his bare chest. “It was amazing y/n, I’m glad we waited. Tonight was perfect”

“It very much was” you yawned out. Steve smiled and tugged you closer “Get some sleep doll” he looked down at you and he pressed a kiss to your forehead before turning the lamp off.

Hello, may I ask for a ship Xmen or Avengers (if you cant think of 1 for Xmen, I hope it's fine to send in a link for the info) please and thank you. I hope the length is fine (sorry if its long, it's easier for me to write it detailed & shorten if need be, then vice versa), if not, let me know and I don’t mind shortening it. Here is the link to the tumble blog , I hope it works. Here it is, shortships(.) tumblr(.) (com) (without the parentheses). Also, I don’t mind being patient and waiting.

Hi! I ship you with Professor Charles Xavier and I think you’d be best friends with Peter Parker.

Charles Xavier would be captivated by your complex personality and compassion for others. He’d be incredibly understanding of your sensitivity and needs due to his abilities and would be able to act accordingly. You both are compassionate, caring, supportive, and loyal people who adore reading and learning. These similarities would be a fantastic foundation for a relationship to be built on. Charles would do his best to ensure that you understand that he is there for you and that you’re safe. He’d love to try the foods you create and would be delighted by your love of reading. Since he knows you enjoy reading and cooking, he’d probably gift you cookbooks frequently. You two would most likely start up a book club to help share your love of reading. Also, Charles would love to hear you sing and would adore your photography. He’d encourage you to pursue these hobbies further and would most likely hang your photographs up everywhere he can (with your permission of course). You would be very helpful for strategizing for missions due to your ability to detect loopholes and Charles and the others would be extremely grateful for your assistance. Charles would do his best to put you at ease whenever public speaking is necessary or when you must go through a large crowd. If you had a panic attack, Charles would be able to calm you down very quickly. On quiet days, the two of you would often be found cuddling together underneath a pile of fluffy blankets. You would be super supportive and understanding of him on his gloomy days where he finds the world’s thoughts and feelings overwhelming and would know how to act when that’s going on since you are familiar with how loud the world can be due to your sensitive and highly empathetic nature. You’d both probably get married to each other one day and have or adopt some children. Overall, I just feel like you and Charles would be a good fit.

Peter Parker would be your best friend because he understands what it’s like to face insecurities and guilt. You two also share a kind, caring, loyal, perfectionistic, sensitive, and witty attitude. Peter and you would discuss technology, photography, video games, and books together. You and Peter would also watch films (except for horror) and anime together. The two of you would go places together with the sole purpose of photographing everything you see. He’d probably get you to help him fix up a gaming console he found in the dumpster so that you two could play games together. He’d enjoy eating your food creations and would like hearing your singing. The two of you would often be found in his room playing a game or assembling a jigsaw puzzle while being wrapped in a huge fluffy blanket with a mug of tea. When your mental illnesses rear their heads, Peter would be supportive and understanding. He’d ask what he can do to help and respond accordingly. He’d try to show you how much you mean to him and would be there for you to the best of his abilities. If you ever found yourself in a situation involving heights, Peter would reassure you that he won’t let anything happen to you and that you’re safe with him. When Peter needs advice, he’d probably come to you due to your shared perfectionistic and caring attitude. You and Peter would make great buddies due to your similarities.

**Also, sorry for the delay in getting this up for you! Life got really crazy and then I got sick for a bit. Also, you sound like a really lovely person! Sorry to hear you’ve had a rough go at it. ❤️

Hey could i have an avengers ship i am willow i am 5'0 i play the violin i have brown curly hair brown eyes i like to read i like science and history and favorite past time is paintball fights. I am bi i like indie and classical music. And infp personality.

Hi, Willow! I ship you with Steve Rogers and think you would be closest friends with Peter Parker.

Your idealism, sensitivity to feelings, and individualism would catch Steve’s eye. You two would discuss history with each other often and he’d be glad to share more in-depth knowledge about World War II with you. Steve would use his newness to the 21st century as an excuse to see you and he would ask you many questions about recent scientific discoveries and historical events he has missed. He’d adore hearing you play the violin and would always ask if he can listen in on your practicing sessions. Steve would enjoy joining you in paintball fights on occasion. He’d appreciate your unique musical tastes and would be more than willing to try listening to your favorite indie groups with you. He’d also love to hear your book suggestions. You and Steve both are idealistic people who try to stay true to yourselves and your beliefs. This shared trait would really help you two respect and understand each other. You and Steve would know when the other needs some alone time and you’d both act accordingly. The two of you would be very supportive of each other and you two would be generally a perfect fit!

The Vision would be your closest friend due to your shared idealism, scientific and historical interests, introspectiveness, and sensitivity. He would find your violin playing incredible and would most likely try to learn how to play the instrument as well. Vision would probably try to play alongside you as much as possible once he masters the instrument (which shouldn’t take very long considering the resources at hand). He would look to you to further describe human behaviors and would often talk of philosophy with you. He would understand your wish for quieter environments and would be fascinated by your musical taste. He’d love to share information on recent scientific advances and would be interested in receiving book recommendations from you. In short, You two would be really great friends due to your similar personalities and would be able to learn a lot from each other.