#like I would’ve preferred if they called it like black widow two

[sophieseals]

Whoever made that thunderbolts line up needs locking away

#they may has well have called it B avengers #why is bucky on the team in the first place #isn’t he an avenger? #like bucky has gone through a full ass arc #where’s Justin hammer? #where’s abomination? #where’s Zemo!? #thunderbolts #mcu fandom #anti mcu #I thought this was supposed to be a team of villains not barely grey characters #like I would’ve preferred if they called it like black widow two #at least then it would’ve made sense

[canarypoint]

Highways and Heart Eyes

A/N: hi it’s been a while...(?) unrelated but the brie larson thing that’s going around is stuck in my head because it’s like 60% of my fyp on tiktok rn. this is inspired/based on a story my mom told me last week lmao

A/N #2 (edit): so i’m an idiot and i forgot to give it a title but if anyone noticed that before i edited it, no you didn’t.

Pairing(s): Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warning(s): none? my really bad attempts at writing flirting?

Steve can say with one-hundred percent certainty that I-95 is simultaneously one of the greatest and worst things built in his time in the ice. The potholes are concerning enough, add to it the barely-bright-enough street lights and the exhausted, largely untrustworthy drivers racing their way home at almost midnight?

He almost prefers fighting Nazis or the Chitauri.

The drive itself has been boring thus far, but he thinks it might be taking a weird turn when he finds a car sitting on the side of the highway, its driver leaning against the hood flailing their unoccupied arm around while the other holds something up to the side of their face.

Steve puts his blinker on, pulling his Stark-issued (as Tony loves to call it) car up to the parked vehicle.

“Everything alright?” he asks, wincing when the person flinches at his voice. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’m fine, just waiting for a friend,” the person answers automatically. They slide their phone into their pocket with a sigh, finally turning to Steve. “Oh my god, you’re Captain America.”

“Please, Steve is fine,” he answers with a soft laugh, trailing off in a silent question.

“Y/N,” they offer in return, their hands fidgeting.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?” he asks one more time; something tells him their earlier remark was a way to ward off creeps, not an actual response to his question.

Y/N looks at the passing traffic for a moment, their eyes squinting in contemplation. “Yeah, actually,” they say through a sigh. “My car’s out of gas and my phone just died…”

“Ah, I see. Let me call a friend of mine and we’ll have you back on the road in no time,” he offers with a smile, already slipping his phone out of his own pocket.

“Thanks, Captain,” they say with a mischievous smile as Steve laughs again.

“Steve,” he jokingly reprimands as he dials the first name he sees on speed dial. “Hey, Nat, I need a favor…”

•••

Steven Grant Rogers is an idiot. A brilliant soldier, a great man, an amazing friend, a fantastic leader (usually), but he is still an idiot out of work and off the field.

He called Natasha at eleven-forty-three at night to ask her to drive all the way to the outskirts of Cecil County, Maryland from New York City, just so she could sit with a complete stranger while he drives to the nearest gas station (it’s forty minutes away, because of course there’s major traffic tonight). If she’d known he just needed to refill someone’s tank, she would’ve stopped and gotten it on the way over.

Though, the person in not-so-perilous peril is pretty cute.

“I’m so sorry,” you ramble for the millionth time. Natasha just smiles and waves you off.

“It’s fine, I promise.” She means it, just as much as the first time she said it. It’s the thirty-seventh, not that she’s counting.

“Yeah, but, you’re an Avenger and like- you probably need as much sleep as you can get and now you’re wasting your night basically babysitting me and-”

“Hey, hey, breathe. I promise this isn’t a waste of my time. It’s not every day I get to spend time with a beautiful person,” Natasha interrupts. Honestly, how you manage to say so much in so little time is baffling.

You look down, and she can just barely make out the small smile on your face. You don’t say anything after that, and Natasha finds your suddenly-flustered state adorable.

“So,” she says. Why not start a conversation? Best way to figure out if you’re secretly a threat or not, it is her job after all. Not because in the fifteen minutes she’s known you, you’ve given her a sense of peace she’s never experienced before, she tells herself. “What were you doing out so late?”

“Oh, I was visiting a friend for the weekend, I’m on my way back to New York now,” you answer. It’s interesting how easily you’ve let your guard down around her.

Natasha hums, nodding her head as you continue to ramble about your trip. She finds herself smiling the more you talk, and eventually she asks you how you and your friend met.

“We met at NYU, she was my girlfriend’s roommate our first two years. Then we broke up and she became my roommate.”

Natasha’s eyebrow raises at the first ‘girlfriend,’ but she frowns when your smile falters. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. It was what, four years ago?” you answer, your smile already back. “I think she’s on the west coast now, probably living out her dream as some old, rich, white guy’s newest plaything.”

Natasha can’t help but laugh, you sound so optimistic and innocent and yet the insult is anything but.

“And what about you? Living out your dream in the Big Apple?” Natasha asks.

You sigh almost dreamily, “Yeah, I work at a boxing club for kids in Queens. We teach them self-defense and give them a place to stay if they need it. Spider-Man actually stopped by a few weeks ago, said he was ‘in the neighborhood.’”

“That’s amazing,” Natasha says honestly.

“It was, he let some of the older kids try out his web shooters.” The redhead holds back a laugh at your obliviousness.

“I meant your job,” she corrects gently.

“Oh,” you laugh. “Yeah, I’m just trying to do my part to help people,” you reply softly. “I didn’t have a lot growing up, and my parents were never really around. I don’t want what happened to me to happen to them, too.”

“You are… something else, Y/N…” she trails off, hoping you catch on.

“Y/L/N,” you supply.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“You too, Natasha Romanoff.” The two of you laugh as Steve’s car finally approaches.

•••

Three days go by and you can’t get your conversation with the Black Widow out of your head. Looking back, you realize she was definitely flirting with you, and you were just too exhausted and oblivious to notice. It’s embarrassing to say the least, but you doubt she even remembers. It was probably just her way of filling the silence.

You internally sigh, refocusing on your surroundings.

“Jab,” you instruct, holding your target pads-clad hands up. Henry, one of the newer kids at the gym, throws his left arm forward, his feet sliding as his glove makes contact with yours. “Stand your ground, plant both feet down firmly.”

The kid corrects his stance, smiling when you nod your head in approval.

“Jab, again.” He hits the target, and you smile again when he doesn’t slip. “Nice job, buddy. Take five. And get some water!” you yell after him as he runs to the bench.

You take your gloves off as the front door’s bells chime, turning to greet the guest. “Hey, welcome, I’ll be right… with you…” you trail off as you make eye contact with a certain redhead.

“You wouldn’t happen to know a Y/N Y/L/N, would you?” she asks playfully. She leans on the front counter as you jog your way over.

“Maybe, anything they might be able to help you with?”

Natasha watches as a kid walks up to you, asking for help with her boxing wraps. “Well,” she watches the way you simultaneously help the little girl and watch Natasha with ease. “I was told there’s this awesome place that helps kids learn how to fight, and I thought I’d stop by and show ‘em how an Avenger does it. Plus, I heard Spider-Man was here once, and I think having the Black Widow come by would be a much cooler story to tell.”

You laugh, ruffling the kid’s hair before whispering to her that she’s good before turning back to the Avenger. “I- Thank you,” you say softly. “You didn’t have to do tha-”

“No, but I wanted to. Plus, I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee after your shift?” she says as you lead her towards a locker in the back.

“You can put your stuff in here, they’re employee lockers, so no one’ll mess with them,” you tell her when she glances around the room. “And yeah, I’d like that.”

Natasha beams, and it’s immediately ingrained into your mind forever. Maybe getting stuck on a busy highway wasn’t too bad after all.

#woha i wrote this #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #steve rogers x platonic!reader #sdlkfhsdf i'm not happy with it but whatever

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Excuses

Summary: Getting your attention requires a little creativity.

Genre: Fluff

Warning: Mild language

Word Count: 1,327

* * * * * *

Picking the clipboard up off the counter, your eyes scanning over the notes that’d been taken. Doctor Cho had asked you to come check on her most recent patient as something else came up.

A disbelievingly amused chuckle leaves your lips at the name you read across the patient signature and with a shake of your head you head toward the patient room. 

“Trying a hand at cooking again huh?” You ask in approaching.

Natasha smiles abashedly, eyes glancing down at her currently bloody hand, the source of the mess presented as the cut on her finger.“ I was just slicing vegetables and Clint fell from the goddamn ceiling.” She explains herself, still not meeting your gaze.

“May I?” You ask with a small smile as you nod to her injured hand.

She nods, her nervousness not missed by you, but you say nothing of it. This was, maybe the fourth time Natasha has been in here this month alone with a small injury. 

Doctor Cho had teasingly mentioned that your presence had an affect on the ex-assassin. Her main evidence being that Natasha rarely turned up in the med bay, for a number of reasons: one she didn’t like people seeing her “weak,” and two, her injuries were usually self manageable. 

Yet recently she’d been here almost as much as Peter, and with the way that kid messed around and trained that was saying something. Doctor Cho suggested she has a crush on you but you laughed it off. 

There’s no way the gorgeous, badass, Natasha Romanoff liked your dorky self. 

Natasha nearly melts at the gentle way you tend to her. Fingers barely brushing her skin but leaving a hot trail behind them. If you weren’t so focused on patching her up you’d surely have seen the blush on her cheeks. 

“Doc, can I ask you a question?” Her low voice hits your ears after a prolonged silence and you resist the urge to jump at it’s unexpectedness. 

Catching her eye, you chuckle,“ I’m just a nurse Miss Romanoff, but yes you can.” You then grabbing the roll of gauze. Her cut wasn’t too bad but no band aid would cover the whole thing and it needed to be cover for at least two days.

“Well for one, I’m just Natasha,” she gets the privileges of seeing your flushed cheeks and it makes her smile brighten,“ what made you accept the job here?”

You bite your lip,“ apart from Sharon’s glowing recommendation? I don’t know.” you shrug,“ I just thought, if you guys are out there saving everyone else I could be here to save you.”

Goddammit! If she wasn’t already crazy about you that sure as shit did it. That single statement sounded more heroic than the honor speeches she’d heard Steve give and that man is heroic. 

“Was that not the answer you were looking for?” You ask at her silence.

Her head shakes frantically and her lips tug up at the corners,“ it was perfect actually. I wasn’t expecting it but you’re very kind.” 

You jokingly swipe across your forehead,“ thank god. I’d been practicing it for ages.”

When Natasha laughs your stomach turns. God how you wished you could hear the sweet sound a million times over. And the smile that came with it makes your heart flutter.

“All done. Don’t leave it uncovered for too long but make sure that you do let it breathe. And as usual no scratching.” You advise.

The urge to pout at having to leave you is fought off. But of course she doesn’t let that be the last time. 

Over the next two weeks Natasha comes in and out of the mad bay. For a range of things: a headache, shoulder pains, a minor burn on her hand from experimenting again. 

Each visit she asked questions about you and your passion for the medical field. She laughed with you and smiled when she got you flustered. And each visit you saw more and more of that crush Doctor Cho was talking about. 

You’d contemplated whether or not to do something about it as you clearly like her as well. But it isn’t until today that you decide to. 

Natasha comes in again, this time with cold like symptoms, that are fake, but you don’t call her out on it. In fact it’s a little adorable how she keeps pretend sniffling and burrowing into the blanket you gave her. 

“Sadly there’s no cure to the common cold, just some symptom relief remedies. Over the counter medicine, rest, and lots of fluids. Preferably hot beverages.” A moment of hesitation passes but her soft green gaze on you pushes that away with ease.“ Maybe I could help out with that, take you to get a cup of coffee, or tea if you prefer?”

She freezes at your question. Her eyes widening before she looks down at the tiled floor. Out of all the things she expected you to say, this was the worst.

Not for her by a long shot, she’d love nothing more than to go out with you, to be with you and hold your hand and go on dates. No this was the worst decision for you. You’ve saved lives, herself included, and she’d done the exact opposite.

While you were a source of hope to some she was the bringer of death. The Black Widow. What were they known for again? Killing their spouses after so long together. Natasha knows she’d never intentionally hurt you but spending so much time with you would surely taint the pureness that you are. And Natasha couldn’t handle being the reason your light had gone dark. 

“That’s not a good idea.” She mumbles. 

The confusion that surges through your head nearly gives you a headache. She doesn’t want to go out with you? Had you read everything wrong? Are you delusional? Was her flirting and excuses to come see you all in your head?

Frowning, you step away from the redhead,“ o-okay. I’m sorry I just- I thought with all the flirting that maybe you- I’m sorry for reading into things.”

“No you didn’t read anything wrong,” with how sad and confused you look she has to assure you that you most certainly are not the problem.“ Y/n I do like you. I think you’re incredible and that’s exactly why you shouldn’t date me. I’m not the kind of person you should be with.”

Your frown deepens, if that’s possible,“ Natasha what? What kind of person do you think you are? Because I think you’re a hero. I’ve literally spent full nights watching over you and tending to your wounds because you hurt yourself trying to save people. Hell you’ve definitely saved more lives than me.”

The sigh she gives tells you that she isn’t convinced. And while you know it’s going to take more than just this single moment to truly change her opinion of herself, you had no reason to not try right now. 

“Natasha,” you step closer and take her cold soft hands in yours,“ you’re just as incredible as you claim me to be, if not more and I’d love to learn everything that makes you that way.” She looks up at your small smile.“ If not all you’re visits would’ve been a waste right.”

Her eyes widen for an entirely different reason this time. She had no idea you knew she’d been finding excuses to come see you. She was so sure that you were buying it. 

“I guess I’m losing my subtle touch huh?” 

“Just a little.” You tease back, squeezing her hand in yours.

With a deep breath in and a slow exhale, Natasha nods,“ I’d love to get coffee with you some time, as long as you let me treat.”

You narrow your eyes at her,“ deal, but, you have to promise not to keep hurting yourself. You no longer need an excuse to see me.”

“Alright, deal.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #reader insert #request

[blkgojo]

Two Superheroes, One Bed | Carol Danvers x Reader

In which, you and Carol hate each other, but have to share a bed. 

Request: Anonymous

Despite popular misconception being a former terrorist does not make people like you. If anything, it makes them hate you. Despise you. Question you incessently with things such as, "Why did you do this? What is wrong with you? How could you have justified those acts?" And to be honest, your answer was less than satisfying. There was no tragic backstory. No great villain speech. Just you and your hatred for the government.

Living in the Avenger facility did little to change that.

See, the thing about Carol Danvers was that she wasn't an "Earth" hero. Logically speaking, there should've been no reason you disliked eachother as much as you did. You didn't work for the Kree. You had no squabble with saving refugees from colonial rule. On paper, you two were two peas in a pod. Both looking after people who didn't have others to help them, but you hated her the moment you laid eyes on her. Carol Danvers with the huge ass ego. Carol Danvers who somehow was fighting an intergalactic empire, but saw no problem with the way the US military conducted business. She hated you because honestly, who likes a murderer. Redemption arc be damned. You know how it goes.

"I just feel like I've done nothing to deserve this."

"You've killed hundreds of people."

"In total, the Avengers have killed like 2000 so, I don't really see how that's relevant."

Natasha sighs. Steve steps forward and when you cut your eyes at him, he raises his hands in plea.

"Half the universe's population is gone. The US government just needs a win."

You nod slowly. "And sending me across the fucking galaxy with-" You gesture vaguely to the blonde who until that point had decided to be quiet. "- is somehow a win."

"I hate to say this, but I agree," Carol interjects. "I work better alone. Y/N will just hold me back."

"We just need someone to go back to the planet where the infinity stores were destroyed. Make sure there are no remnants."

"It'd be quicker if I did it by myself."

"Y/N is the only one with the ability to replicate organic life," Steve retorts. "If there's a possibility she can locate some particle of infinity stone and replicate that, we need to take that chance."

"It'd be good publicity for her image and it'd bring us one step closer to bringing them back," Natasha continues.

"The world needs you to put aside your differences for the mission."

That was another thing you regretted about joining the Avengers. Steve had no shortage of motivating speeches under his belt. The good thing about villains was that they weren't much for conversation - there was no need to give motivating speeches when the odds were in your favor.

But, people were gone. Wanda, the only one you remotely liked, was gone. Snapped. Looking at Carol now, it looks like she must've lost someone, too. Her unpleasant face looks somehow more restrained than it usually did.

You sigh and fold your arms. "Fine."

All Carol does is nod.

--

It would take two earth days to reach his planet. Two. There'd been complications with the engine and so, it would take not the twenty four hours you expected, you know the time span that was customary for light travel, but it would take two days. Between that and the ship having to lower the heat to maintain proper oxygen levels, it wasn't fun.

"I could fly us there," Carol offers.

"Are you forgetting I can't breathe in space?"

Carol shrugs. "You replicate organic life right? Just replicate yourself a new pair of lungs."

"Fuck you."

She smirks, takes the only other available chair next to you. At first, she seems content to annoy you by tapping her fingers against the dashboard. Then, she grows bored. Worse, she tries to talk to you.

"Isn't all of this stuff automated?"

"Yes."

"So," she begins, stretching out the word. "You don't actually need to be here monitoring it. You can get on the cot." She shrugs. "Take a nap."

"I'd rather keep watch."

You think that'll be it and she'll be done, but she continues. You never would've pegged her as the type to not like silence. But, maybe that's not even it. Maybe, she just wanted to squeeze information out of you. God knows you weren't exactly open with the other Avengers when Fury made you join.

"You ever been to outer space?"

You shake your head. "When you're flagged as a global liability they tend to prefer you on the ground."

"A global liability? Is that what terrorists call themselves?"

"At least, we don't give ourselves cutesy nicknames like Black Widow or Captain Marvel."

She scoffs. "No. You guys just blow up innocent civilians."

"Yeah, I guess accidentally killing them is way better." You smile thinly. "For the greater good and all, you know?"

She stares at you long enough that you don't think she'll actually speak. Finally, she looks away and out to the empty abyss in front of you. "I don't pretend to know what the Avengers did while I was off-world. I see them now and they're good people."

You don't respond and she continues. "You must agree. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here."

"Fury said it was either this or experimentation."

"Fury didn't say that."

You laugh bitterly. "He didn't, but he didn't need to. The governments experiment on all mutants - that's how we got Steve and Wanda - they just don't talk about it anymore." You spare her a glance. There's nothing in her expression that would tell you what she's thinking. "So, I chose the Avengers. And here we are."

"You could've escaped."

"Where?" You lean forward in your seat and prop your elbow on the dash. "Please tell me. Where can someone who's wanted internationally hide?"

She squints her eyes. "I'd help, but unfortunately, my knowledge of ideal vacation spots is pretty limited."

Carol's lips seem to be trapped in a permanent smirk - the corner always tilted up in vaguely hidden amusement. Even now. Her snark never stops. You feel your own anger dissipate as quick as it came. There was no point being angry with her. She loved it. Fed off it like a parasite or leech.

"It's almost like you're trying to piss me off."

She places her elbow on the console, leaning forward to shrink the gap between you two.

"Would it make you more angry if I was?"

One time, you and the raccoon had a bet. Whose eyes were more blue: Captain America or Captain Marvel? Like this, you'd have to say Carol. Her eyes had their own halo wrapped around the rim, highlighting the blue and making it fluorescent.

You rub your lips together and lean back in your seat, turning away from her to once again, look at the controls.

The ship breaks down when you reach his planet. You and Carol spend the first ten minutes after landing, arguing back and forth, blaming eachother. The next fifteen, Carol leaves you. Fucks off like a glow stick and searches the planet. When she returns, you haven't moved. Haven't left. You opted instead to lie down in the flowers. It was a beautiful planet. Perfect for retirement. The air was pure, almost light enough to get high in.

"I found his cabin."

"Great." You jump up. The blood rushing to your head and spotting your vision briefly, almost enough to cause you to wobble. "Let's go."

She steps in front of you, quick. You stop just short of bumping into her. Your faces are inches apart. That same infuriating smirk on her lips. Your eyes dart down, down to her chest - she was quite muscular, you could see that even through her clothes-  down enough that she has to clear her throat.

"It's too far by foot." When your eyes meet, she's trying to not look smug.

You arch a brow. "Well, we can't fly."

"I'll have to carry you."

You groan.

"Believe me. I'd be more than willing to do anything else."

"Fine. Do it."

You step back and gesture at her to turn around. She rolls her eyes and in a breathe you didn't know you were holding, throws your arm around her shoulders, wraps her arms around your waist, and jumps. You scream. Through the rush of wind, you think you hear her laughing or perhaps, that's a lie and it's you. Laughing hysterically. No. You are screaming. Hitting her chest. And she's laughing. Fuck Natasha. Fuck Steve. When this is over, you're quitting.

When your feet touch the ground, you bend down and kiss it. Pray to it.

"Anyone ever tell you you're dramatic?" She asks.

"Anyone ever teach you about consent?"  

"You told me to do it."

"I don't care!"

The two of you spend hours looking for remnants of the stones before you finally give it up and return to the ship. You were careful not to drift too close to his cabin. The Avengers never recovered the body. The rot of Thanos was thick, enough to gag over if you got too close. This planet wasn't used to death, not the harsh meat of Thanos. It had been months and he was still there, newly rotting as if it had been a week or two.

"I'll look again tomorrow before we leave." Carol pops a chip in her mouth, her feet kicked on the co-pilot chair while you lounged on the cot. "For now, you should get your rest."

"Don't you need to sleep, too?"

"I have been." She gestures to the chair.

You stare. Frown. The chairs were nowhere near comfortable.

"We can switch. I'll just take the blanket," you offer reluctantly. The nights here were cold anyways. Much colder than space. You involuntarily shiver.

"I prefer to sleep sitting up."

"Is that a military thing?"

To your surprise, she laughs. "Why?"

You shrug the blanket higher - the thin layer providing little comfort. "Cap likes to do that too."

As the sky gets darker, the cold filters in the cracks of the ship and between the layers of your comforter. You snuggle tighter within yourself, curl your knees up to your chest, burrow your hands underneath your pits. When that doesn't work, you shift again. It was always something. The blanket doesn't cover your feet here. You're uncomfortable there.

"You still up?"

You peek up to glance at Carol. She's leaned back in the chair, her head propped back against the headrest. When you shift, she pops one eye open.

"It's cold," you respond. "Are you cold?"

She shakes her head. "Temperature stops being a concern when you get superpowers like mine."

"Oh, yeah. Forgot you're a glow stick."

She snorts. "You talk a lot of shit for someone whose close to being an icicle."

"Bravado under pressure. It's my best quality."

You think she's gonna retort with another snort, but she stays silent. You make a move to stand, but she stops you.

"It's colder over here. See." She breathes out and you can see the cloud of her breathe. You frown.

"I can't sleep like this."

You think she's gonna do something like procure a blanket or throw you her jacket. You even think she might use her powers to heat the ship. It would make sense. Now, that you thought about it - she could've flew your ship to Thanos's exact location. You open your mouth to say as much, maybe, even yell at her as well, but she surprises you by standing.

Her head tilts to the side. Her mouth opening and closing again as if she's mulling over her next words carefully. If it were brighter, you might say this is the closest to nervous you've ever seen her get.

"I could lay down next to you." You blink. "My body generates a certain amount of heat due to -"

"Your powers. Yeah, I get it."

Slowly, you scoot over in the small cot. There wouldn't be enough room. You'd be touching regardless, but if you didn't turn over, it'd be okay. You could pretend instead of Carol, it was some space heater next to you.

"Come," you order.

You feel her weight in the cot, the warmth of her sinking in and spreading across the fabric. It hasn't even been a minute and already the cold has been dissipated. You could sleep if you wanted to. But, you don't. No matter how much you had wanted to pretend she was just some space heater, she was Carol. She felt stiff like a board and she was unbearably loud in her stiffness, her unwillingness to move.

"You can relax you know," you mumble.

"I sleep on my side."

You wonder now if she's smirking.

"No one's stopping you from doing that."

She moves and you know without looking that she's facing you. Her breathe tickles the hair on the back of your neck. You wouldn't be able to sleep like this. She's thinking so loud that whatever thoughts she's having are sure to interrupt your dreams. You turn over towards her - your faces are a hair apart. She's not smirking. Her lips are parted and her eyebrows raised, her expression torn between surprise and delight.

"You're making it difficult to sleep," you say simply.

"Am I?" She retorts. There it is. She's grinning. "That sounds like a personal problem."

You don't take the bait. "You know why you're making it difficult?"

She shifts her head slightly to imply 'no'.

"You're too far away. I'm still cold," you say.

She arches one brow. "This is too far away for you?"

You nod.

She shifts closer. Close enough that there's no room for you to glance at her lips. There's only her eyes staring into yours.

"This good enough?" She whispers.

"No."

"You're proving difficult to please, Y/N." And you can tell she's trying to be smooth, but right now, you just want her to shut up.

You barely have time to open your mouth to say as much before she's kissing you. Pressing her soft lips to yours, her hand finding its way to your hip and resting there. She tugs you closer to her until your bodies are flush against one another. The soft pecks growing longer. Light sparks from her fingertips, burning the trim of your jacket. She fists it as she presses you into her. Her touch still gentle if demanding.

You pull away slowly to breathe. To catch air. You forget why when your lips stop touching.

"Been wanting to do that for awhile," she says with a smile.

"I didn't know I wanted to do it honestly," you respond because it's true. All you knew was that Carol was infuriating. Still is. Only now you want to kiss her, too.

"Really?" Carol asks. "You didn't know you wanted me?"

"You find that hard to believe?"

"I do," she grins. "You know the raccoon and Groot have a running bet on which one of us would crack first. Groot bet on me."

"Groot lost, then." You mean to kiss her, but she pulls back.

"You're the one who invited me into bed with you."

"Because you offered your services."

"Because you complained about being cold."

You groan, snuggle into her chest so you don't feel the need to respond to her. Thankfully, she stops. Her spare hand strokes your back and slowly, you drift into sleep.

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers imagine #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel imagine #carol danvers #captain marvel

[haztory]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

--nanami kento x gn!reader; hurt, comfort, minor character death, established relationship, death from a disease

--summary: Death is part of the process, Nanami Kento learns early on. He's no stranger to it nor the quiet that follows it. But when it plagues you like this, he finds himself at a loss.

a/n: I don’t know where this came from. it just happened. have I mentioned I'm a huge nanami simp as well? something about capable men just gets to me hehe. anyways, enjoy!

i listened to ‘clouds’ by luke faulkner while writing this

(w.c. 2302)

Death is part of the process, Nanami Kento learns early on.

It’s not one he has to particularly enjoy, but it would be advantageous in the resting of his conscious to make peace with it. Rather than let death ruin the few hours of sleep he can manage a night, it’s significantly easier to never let it weigh too heavily on his mind, never let its stay linger for more than necessary in the space of his thoughts. His occupation demands a certain air of nonchalance from him, requires the detached, almost stoic acknowledgment of the situation. Eventually, familiarity will settle in the depth of his recollection and death becomes something one needn’t blink twice towards. 

It’s not an aspect of the job he likes, per se, but it’s significantly better than the alternative. This seemingly apathetic conception of human life is unfortunately an evil requirement. Instead of festering over the lives he didn’t save, he can focus on the ones he has yet to protect. His slate may be tainted with copious amounts of red— inky, dark, bleeding red; the kind that looks black as it accumulates— but in true Kento fashion, he’ll wipe it clean. Gently, with a clean rag and with slow, circular motions, he’ll wash away the evidence of his failures with as much respect as he can, regardless of how exhausted he may be and how much easier it would be to just run his body, suit, and knife through the stream of water.

The victims may no longer be of this earth, but their last physical embodiment lay wickedly upon his person, his weapon, and his soul. Where he couldn’t save them, the least he can do is lay their last parts to rest with as much kindness as one can muster: with a slow wipe and a silent prayer. 

Death is part of the process, but, if one allows it, it can also be the fuel towards excellence. A drive that settles in after the brief misfortune, kickstarting the desire for improvement; A need to do and be better. To work harder and save more people. But that’s all it must be. No residual guilt, no lasting regret, only fuel. That’s what Nanami Kento learns early on.

What he learns rather recently, though, is that death is much different when it’s inevitable. 

When there is no amount of slashing, no amount of fighting, no amount of improved skills that can prevent it. Even worse, when you know it’s coming and preparation can do very little in settling the grief. 

Death is part of the process, but how can one rationalize it when it doesn’t come from the immediate life or death situation he so often faces? When it doesn’t come from the hands of maniacal cursed spirits or the wickedness of greedy men, but instead, from the unforgiving nature of nature itself? How does one reconcile the inevitability of death when it happens to someone so young?

Cancer. 

She was only eleven.

Death is part of the process, Kento used to think, but as he stands amongst the sea of black on this fitting day of grey, he can’t help but notice how incredibly unfair this all is. Her mother stands a few feet away, silent as they scatter her ashes by the river she used to play in as a child. She stands flanked on either side by loved ones, and yet, the abysmal look on her face betrays any ideal that she may be comforted by the closeness of others; Hardly even cognizant of the fact that they’re there. He’s seen that look before, once on himself.  

It’s the face of vicissitude, the kind that casts someone past the rocks of sadness and out onto the sea of loneliness and despair. A place that no one can follow.

Spouses are called some variation of widow, children are called orphans. What does one call a parent who’s lost their child? No doubt the lack of a label only helps to contribute to the loneliness of it all. Suspended in pain without even the decency of a customary societal title attached to one’s name. Left with nothing but the echoing emptiness of a broken heart.

Grief personified. A hollow shell of a being. Just another person who lost someone they loved. Nothing more, nothing less.

Kento is used to death, but this? This has heartache weighing heavier on his shoulders than he’s used to, forcing his impeccably straight posture forward with a sag of tragedy. The silence of the fellow attendees forces him to maintain some morsel of composure, in fear of disturbing the serene devastation of it all that’s composed so fragilely. So delicate that even a sigh will break the glass of still anguish. As her ashes are scattered to the river and the priest begins the common prayer, the image of her weak smile in her last moments plays vividly behind Kento’s tinted glasses. He can hardly swallow the lump that tightens his throat.

He can hardly imagine how her mother feels. Can hardly imagine how you feel. She was your niece after all.

His eyes trail towards your figure. Standing to the right of your sister, dressed in the customary black, and hand held tightly in hers in solidarity of the magnitude of the loss. Kento didn’t mind standing towards the back, away from the bubble of intimacy that surrounded the two of you. It would’ve felt like an invasion of the sanctity of family to stand anywhere near. A foreigner, he’s always attributed himself to be whenever accompanied with your family— not out of their refusal to accommodate him, but rather his own voluntary maintenance of separation from their sphere of loving connection that was more or less absent from his own life— and any meager effort to share sentiments of sorrow would feel, more or less, inauthentic. At least at this moment.

So he waits, towards the back of the gathering. A far enough distance to ascertain his separation from the immediate family, but close enough to where, should you require him at any point, you need only turn around to seek him out. And he will come to you, as fast as his legs may go, regardless of the people that may be in the way. For his hand has been twitching this entire time with the need to physically comfort you and his eyes continuously dart back to your figure in watchful consideration.

The priest ends his prayer and the last of the ashes are sent off and silence once more encompasses the gathering. The aching kind, the one that wants to be disturbed so badly, but remains untouchable. The kind of agonizing mute that has surrounded his life since you received the fateful phone call a few days before.

Kento is no stranger to quiet. It’s his preferred method of life, not the kind of person to find delight in unnecessary, boastful noise, nor the kind to entertain it often. But this is the kind of quiet he finds greats distaste in. Especially since it’s deprived him of his favorite kind of din— yours.

The life that is so intricately intertwined with yours has held virtually no recognizable clamor in four days. No low chatter from the television, no raucous laughter induced from one of your social media apps, no prolonged discussion of each other’s days or interesting points of conversation. Only silence has filled every gap and crevice as you two packed bags and made arrangements to head to your hometown in preparation for the funeral. Lamenting silence filled the space as you sat side by side on the train towards your destination. Mournful silence encompassing the home of your sister upon your mutual entry into the area. Silence so thick yet so delicate, so long and so void that any attempt to dismantle it feels boilingly uncomfortable.

He doesn’t like the wall it has unintentionally placed between you two, wanting nothing more than to tear it down with his bare hands and have you back within the safety of his arms. But he knows better. 

Death is part of the process, and he must let grief run its course. He’ll just remain in the shadows as a beam of support, intent to provide the space and time you need, but always keeping a trained eye on you.

That’s what love is, he supposes. It’s an odd thing to think, especially as solemness surrounds him as it does now. The drag of sadness competing with the surge of love that overwhelms his veins. It’s burning, and intense, and while his is mostly in consideration of you (as most things in his life nowadays are), it’s peculiarly indicative of the moment. Poetic, almost. 

Bleeding affection borders this ceremony of gathered friends and family in a proper send-off, love encapsulated in the silent tears trailing down faces and memorialized in the air of stagnance. Pouring in every direction as they all gaze sadly at the traveling ashes of the young girl down the steady waters of the river.

It’s grief, yes, but also love, for what is grief but love with nowhere to go?

The ride home is like all the other days, incredibly hushed. Inaudible. He can barely hear your breaths. He wonders, and not for the first time, if when he dies, this is how you will grieve. In this tragic quiet, moving with such stillness that was he not watching, he wouldn’t know you moved at all. A vacant soul wandering just to survive. Jujutsu sorcerers unfairly make their peace with dying early on in their tenure, and maybe he’s committed you to a life of tragedy by involving himself so intimately with you. 

When he dies, and he will— this life that he has chosen spares him no luxuries, not even false beliefs— he will condemn you to a brutal reality that he could have spared you from were he not so selfish. He hates seeing you like this. Hates it with every fiber of his being.

Death is a part of the process. He understands that. He just wishes it wasn’t so collateral. A prolonged state of your affliction that resulted from his hand would surely be a more painful fate than any gruesome death.

Your parent’s home is warm, in sharp contrast to the events of the day. And while they stayed with your sister, Kento insisted you return to your place of stay to wash and change if only to give you a moment alone; So he can check on you in the sanctity of privacy, grant you a brief respite from the unrelenting tide of sorrow, cherish you in these sparing instances that he can never take for granted. 

You bathe alone, he gives you that. He makes tea the way your mother taught him how, even though you quite like the way he makes it and has it set on the table upon your return. Dressed in comfier attire and seated blankly at the table, he settles in beside you. His shoulder touching yours hoping to convey in this minute action that he’s here. 

He doesn’t need the words to say it. Just his presence. 

His hand too, as you settle your own silently in the space of his large one, gripping tightly onto the rough skin. He rubs his thumb along the back of your hand, bringing it to his lips as he placed two long kisses on its surface. You’ve made eye contact all day but this is the first time you’ve really looked at each other. 

Where he can see the pain swimming in the pools of your irises behind the film of unshed tears and you can see the unrestrained sympathy and worry in his. 

“She was eleven,” you whisper, unable to speak any louder.

He doesn’t say anything. There’s not much he can say, only press his lips harder to the back of your hand.

It’s the only moment you’ve had alone together since arriving, and while he was so desperate before to hear something, anything come from your mouth, he finds that the inactivity the fills space once more is rather appropriate. One that he doesn’t want to disturb. Not when there isn’t anything he can say that can heal this wound, nothing he can do except love and care for you when you’re too weak to do it yourself. 

He places a hand behind your head, tilting you forward as he places his lips upon your forehead and smoothing the stray hairs that have displaced themselves from your formal hairdo. Fingers travel down the back of your neck and rub gentle circles on your shoulder, healing any aches with his touch. 

“Drink,” he murmurs against your temple, and you do. A sign of progress that he relishes in. He’s more than eager to see the slow trek back to a state of normalcy, but he knows it’ll be different from here on out. There’s a hole in your heart and it will take a while to heal. 

But he’ll be there. For as long as he can, whenever he can. Because that’s what love is.

Death is part of the process, but he finds it’s infinitely more manageable with you. He knows you feel the same way when at the end of the day as you lay side by side in the guest room of your parents’ home, you take comfort in the safety of his arms and finally, fill the air with something other than the prolonged silence and let him comfort you. 

Death is part of the process, and he knows the inevitability of his own part in it. But in this moment with you, he’ll let himself indulge selfishly in your noise. It’s his favorite sound, after all. 

end notes: come shoot me a message! i love hearing from yall. 

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #my writing #adri your love for blond men is showing #nanami kento x you

[thosekidswhohuntmonsters]

Fuck it, Let the Whole World Know 

Summary: this is pure tom hiddleston filth and I’m not ashamed of it 

Word Count: 4938

Rating: v spicy, deff 18+

Author’s note: oh god I can’t believe I wrote this!! reading it back now I was nearly blushing! anyways, get ready for Chris Evans to be the best wingman there is

♡if you enjoy this fic you’re welcome to leave a reblog/like/comment! feedback is not only welcomed but encouraged!♡

You had been used to doing press junkets with Chris Evans, but not him and Tom Hiddleston. You’d been in various rom-coms with Chris over the years, but now you were also starring in Infinity War with him.

You were at the food table getting a drink of water as you felt someone pinch your hip, causing you to jump up and turn around. There of course stood Chris, left boob grab and all, “YES! Dude, I don’t know how you still fall for this!”.

Maybe you would’ve laughed if it weren’t for the fact that you were about to do a day of press junkets with the man that you’d developed a serious crush on; Tom Hiddleston. Chris could read you like a book, “Come on (y/n) today will be fineeee!”

You sighed, “What if the interviewers ask-”. Chris raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that you’ve all had to handle some tough questions. He laughed, “Do you not remember the hundreds of weird questions you and I have been asked together?”.

Chris got you to smile, “Oh god Chris don’t remind me….remember when someone asked me if I’d rather sleep with Steve Rogers or Johnny Storm?”. He laughed loudly again as he remembered that memory, a smirk forming upon his lips.

Rolling your eyes you teased, “I’d take Steve Rogers all day...I bet he’s extremely kinky behind closed-”. Chris was laughing much harder than he would’ve at your joke, causing you to turn around.

There of course stood Tom, “Do I even want to know love?”. Your heart started to pound as you tried not to blush. Chris threw you a lifeline as he said, “In all honesty man, no”. The three of you laughed together.

Chris moved to shake hands with Tom, bringing him into a hug. Once it was over Tom looked to you, “Shall we do a take two on our reunion?”. You nodded your head and he pulled you into a light embrace, his hand lingering on the small of your back.

You all heard the call for you to get onto set and take your positions. The set had you three sitting next to each other, and the interviewer across from you. A stage hand positioned you right between the men.

The interviewer shook all your hands, “Now here we have a rather interesting sandwich, (y/n) in between America’s golden boy, and Asgard’s bad boy”. The three of you laughed, all settling into the interview.

You teased, “It’s kinda like an angel and devil on my shoulder huh?”. Chris didn’t hesitate to move and pretend to whisper something into your ear, playing the part. The interviewer ate it up, “Now do you have anything to say Tom?”.

You felt goosebumps as Tom’s lips grazed your ear, softly he said, “I’ve missed you (y/n)”. You nodded your head, pretending that Tom had said something else.

The interviewer caught your smirk and dove right in, “Now let’s get into it, (y/n) which do you prefer; bad boy or golden boy?”. You licked your lips while thinking of a response. You patted Chris’s knee, “Sorry Chris, but I’m gonna have to go with bad boy...Who doesn’t love Loki?”.

Chris looked into the camera, “I know...have you seen the hair?”. Tom nodded his head while smirking. He shrugged, “You know it’s actually an extremely long process to get those raven locks”.

Playfully you said, “It has to be the voice for me...”. You hadn’t really expected yourself to say that, maybe you were caught up in the moment. Tom didn’t skip a beat and he turned towards you.

Holding your gaze he said, “Claim loyalty to me, and I will give you what you need”. You’d be lying if you said his words hadn’t made your mind drift to dirtier places. Before you could respond Chris chimed in, “Dude out of all the lines..that’s what came to mind”.

Smirking you said, “He could’ve asked me to neal Chris…”. Tom started to laugh, and while doing so rested his hand on your knee.

The interviewer pulled out some cards, “Are you guys down for a game of would you rather; marvel style?”. You all nodded your heads, showing different levels of excitement.

“This one is for you Chris; would you rather be trapped in an elevator with black widow or our very wonderful (y/n) here” you narrowed your eyes at Chris, pretending to be angry depending on his answer.

Boldly you said, “Now remember Chris...keep things pg”. Once again the interviewer ate it up, and Chris started to laugh loudly. Tom joined in, “Who was under the impression that things wouldn’t be pg”.

Chris teased, “Uh me! Okay I guess I’d have to choose black widow”. The interviewer grinned, “Now is that payback for (y/n) choosing Loki earlier?”. Chris smirked while saying “maybe”.

The next question was, “Okay Tom would you rather have Loki’s irresistible charm, or his beautiful raven hair?”. You looked to Tom, trying to calm down your brain.

It had been awhile since you’d seen him last, and this wasn’t too ideal of a reunion. For some weird reason your feelings were even more intense today, but you couldn’t exactly show that during interviews.

Chris chimed in with a devilish smirk, “Tom already has Loki’s irresistible charm..right (y/n)”. Your eyes widened as you looked to Chris, but you were only met with a wink. Faking a laugh you said, “He tries to hide it, but he’s a total lady killer”.

Once again Tom laughed softly while gripping your knee, “Come on love, don’t flatter me”. You found yourself getting lost in the moment again, from the way his touch gave you goosebumps to how beautiful his face looked while smiling.

The interviewer joked, “Looks like there might be a little Loki in you after all huh Tom?”. Tom looked into the camera while smirking, playing into the interviewer's comments.

The rest of the interview continued like that; playful questions, light flirting between you and Tom, and your mind melting every time he found a way to touch you in the most innocent way.

When it was over you three walked back to the food table, beginning your two hour or so break until the next interview. You smiled, “It feels good to be getting back into this guys”.

Tom stood next to you, his shoulder inches from yours, “I have missed you both...I hate how terribly busy I am nowadays”. You nodded your head in agreement while looking to Chris.

You caught his wink, “I know dude...so crazy...I can’t even enjoy this break because my manager needs to brief me on the questions for later today!”. You raised an eyebrow wondering what Chris was playing at.

Before you could figure it out he moved to hug Tom goodbye, and then you. He whispered into your ear, “You got this (y/n)”. With one last salute Chris was gone, leaving you and Tom alone.

Tom smiled, “Are you hungry darling because I’m starving...and not for this set food”. You’d realized that Chris had basically left you and Tom alone for the next two hours.

Nodding your head you suggested, “I think I saw a breakfast joint around the corner?”. You watched as his entire face lit up, realizing that you’d go along with his idea. Tom smirked, “Shall we?”.

Smiling back you mocked his tone, “We shall”. Tom looked at the ground while shaking his head, smiling at your teasing. You began to walk off set until Tom’s manager called to you both, making you stop in your tracks.

You thought you were screwed, until Tom whispered something into his manager’s ear after pointing to you. His manager nodded their head, “Just be back in time okay?”.

Tom walked back over to you, and you had to admit how proud he looked was extremely adorable. Playfully you asked, “More of that Loki charm?”. Tom shook his head while you both started to walk down the street.

Tom sheepishly said, “Love, you truly do flatter me”. You rolled your eyes as you turned the corner. You started walking backwards for a moment, “Tom Hiddleston, the most humble man there is”.

You turned back around so you couldn’t see the look on Tom’s face. He couldn’t explain it, but within the first five seconds he saw you he felt himself getting lost in you again. Tom had always had feelings for you, but with your conflicting schedules he pushed them aside.

There was just something about you, something that was so intoxicating to him. Tom was just scared that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, and he already felt it starting. Smiling he said, “Why that tone darling?”.

By now you were about to enter the shop, Tom leaning in to open the door for you. Walking inside you said, “Come on Tom, you can’t be as innocent as you seem”. Tom laughed loudly while his jaw nearly dropped.

You read the, “Seat yourself” sign so you clapped your hands together. Looking over your shoulder you said, “I’m a booth by the window kinda girl, how about yourself?”. Tom slid into the booth, sitting across from you.

Smiling his said, “I think I’ve always been a windows kinda man myself love”. You nodded your head in approval, and soon enough a waitress came over to give you both menus. Tom grinned, “I’ll have a green tea, thanks love”.

She looked to you, “And I’ll have an apple juice”. You heard Tom laugh, and you immediately turned to face him. The waitress smiled, “I’ll be back with your drinks in a second”. Tom sat across from you, the biggest grin on his face.

You tilted your head to the side, “Am I not allowed to order apple juice?”. He was still grinning, propping his head up with his hand. He held your gaze, “It’s a compliment darling..I love how innocent you can be at times”.

“Innocent at times?” you repeated while raising an eyebrow. Tom laughed once again, now focusing on the menu. You smirked, “Let’s play truth or dare”. He quickly put down the menu, focusing instead on you.

“Truth or dare?” he asked once again. You nodded your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “Truth or dare Tom...unless you’re not game…” Tom laughed, a look of determination now on his face.

He leaned forward, “Oh love, you have no idea”. You leaned forward as well, the moment quickly escalating. Your heads snapped to the left, “So what can I get you both?”.

Tom’s smirk was now replaced with a smile, “I’ll have the oatmeal with apples and cinnamon and a side of toast please”. The waitress nodded her head while writing down his order. Smiling you said, “And I’ll have a waffle, side of homefries”. She smiled, placing down your drinks and then turning to prepare your orders.

“So truth or dare?”. Tom pretended to think it over for a minute before saying, “Dare”. Raising your eyebrows you pretended to be surprised. Grinning you said, “I dare you to read your last text message out loud”.

Quickly you added, “And show me the screen so I know you’re not lying”. Tom let out a sigh, and reluctantly took out his phone. When he found his latest message he laughed, “I can’t-”.

Teasingly you said, “What could our sweet little Tom possibly be talking about thats so bad he can’t repeat it?”. Tom rolled his eyes, but found himself smiling. He shook his head but continued, “I wouldn’t have minded asking (y/n)-”.

He paused and you beamed with excitement, “Come on! Don’t be a tease”. Tom licked his lips before continuing. He spoke quickly, “To kneel before me”. You felt your stomach drop, but you tried to keep yourself under control.

Turning his phone you saw the text, and the rest of his conversation with Chris. You smiled to yourself realizing that Chris had been playing both sides.

You clicked your tongue, “Well would you look at that...Tom Hiddleston is much dirtier than he looks”. Looking at him you could see he was blushing lightly, and you were trying your hardest to remain calm and collected.

Shrugging he said, “Shall I remind you of what you were talking about with Chris earlier”. You nodded, and the waitress came with your food. After taking a sip of your drink you said, “But I was talking about his character..not him”.

Tom casually began to eat, “You were the one who brought up the idea of kneeling, so I’m quite curious as to what you’ve been thinking about...”. You choked on the homefry you’d been eating, and Tom sat there with a smirk.

He loved this little game you were playing with him, and it was bringing up feelings he’d been trying to suppress. The truth was that Tom was a complex man with many different sides, and right now you were challenging his most dangerous side.

Tom knew he now had the upper hand, “So truth or dare?”. You tried to calm your breathing by taking a couple bites of your food. In between bites you said, “Truth”. You couldn’t see but Tom was smirking.

“A little coy are we now love? Hmm, is it true that you really like men with a dark side”. His voice alone made butterflies dance in your stomach, and goosebumps appear on your skin. You could tell the mood had shifted, and something new inside of Tom was stirring.

“Good becomes too boring too fast...I like men who push the limits and make things interesting” you looked down as you spoke, afraid to see his reaction. Tom nodded his head planning his next move.

Finally looking up you asked, “Truth or dare?”. Tom held your gaze, and you saw something different in his eyes. He bit his bottom lip, “Dare”. For a moment you just sat there, a thousand thoughts flooding your mind but no words leaving your lips.

Somehow you managed to get out, “I dare you to tell me what you want Tom, no more games”. As he processed your words a smirk form upon his lips. It was only three words, but enough to make your head spin, “I want you”.

For a moment it had felt like everything you’d thought you’d known about Tom was wrong, but then you realized that there was always a little voice in your head telling you there was something different about him.

There had to be a reason he was drawn to such dark and complex characters right? Maybe there was a side to Tom that was darker and more forbidden than he’d let on, and as you looked into his lust filled eyes, you knew you were right.

He licked his lips, “Although I quite love this game we’re playing darling, I think it’s time we finally do what we’ve been dreaming about for so long”. You just looked at him, your lips parted, your eyes wide, shocked by his words.

His grin only seemed to grow as he realized how much power he had. Tom leaned forward, “There’s no need to be shy now love, I’ve wanted you for a long time….and maybe I’m wrong but I think you want the same”.

You nodded your head, “Tom...I-”. Before you could struggle to find the words any longer the waitress came back over. Tom winked at you before turning to look at her. With a sudden innocent expression he asked, “Do you have a bathroom here darling?”.

She nodded her head and pointed to where it was, and instantly Tom got up. You were extremely confused, especially because while walking away Tom looked so mischievous. Sitting down you thought about everything for a while.

Finally it hit you, and when you realized what he’d done you just laughed to yourself. The damn bastard wanted you to go follow him, finally take what you want. Taking a breath in and then out, you finally got up from the table.

You walked over to the portion of the restaurant where the bathrooms were. There stood Tom leaning against the door to the family bathroom, “Look who it is”. His arms were crossed over his chest, and a smug look on his face. You smiled, and Tom leaned back finally opening the door to the bathroom.

As he walked into the room you caught his smirk in the reflection of the mirror. Walking into the bathroom you closed the door behind you, locking it. To your surprise the bathroom was actually nice.

It had a huge countertop with the sink, and even a large armchair off to the side. As you looked to Tom you could see the different look in his eyes, and it made your core ache. Tom was eyeing you like a predator eyes its prey.

He loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his sleeves. Tom spoke casually as he did so, “I love how shy you are darling, as if this whole day you haven’t been teasing me”. Your back was pressed against the door as you listened to him.

Tom laughed lowly, “Even during the interview -it’s the voice that does it for me- love I could barely control myself...I wanted to ravish you right then and there”. You swallowed hard, biting your bottom lip.

Finally he looked back up to you, “And here you are standing right before me, but still not letting yourself take what you’ve been craving..I can see it in your eyes (y/n)...how badly you want this”.

Tom licked his lips, “Let yourself go love”. Before you could process what you were doing you were walking over to him. Tom crashed his lips against yours in a hunger filled kiss. It was like with each touch of your lips years of tension melted away.

All too soon he pulled back, “Now the fun can truly begin darling”. You stood there trying to catch your breath, unsure of his next move. Tom turned your body so your back was now facing him.

As he placed light kisses down your neck, he grabbed your wrists. Tom tugged at the bottom of your earlobe as he moved your wrists so they were now behind your back. Breathlessly you asked, “Tom what-”.

Making use of his tie, he used it to bind your hands together. You couldn’t help yourself, a moan of anticipation escaping your lips. He purred into your ear, “I knew you loved to be as filthy as I do”.

All you could do was nod your head, melting into his touch. Tom ran a hand up your back, making you lean forward as he pressed you into the countertop. His hands slid back down your sides his body also moving down.

Tom was on his knees, his hands only moving up to push up the dress you’d been wearing. He pulled your legs apart, exposing your black lace panties. His laugh was so low it was almost a growl, “My my pet, what do we have here?”.

Your face was resting against the countertop, the cool tile the only thing calming you down right now. His hands ran up your thighs, massaging your ass, “You look so good (y/n)”.

His name left your lips like a prayer, “Tom please-”. With a grin he spanked your ass, making you jump. Immediately he kissed the exact spot where his handprint would be.

He moved his lips to your slit, teasing you through your panties with soft kisses. You arched your back needing more, “Tom”. His mouth was hovering over your most sensitive area.

Finally he slid your panties to the side, your clit now fully exposed to him. Tom gripped your thighs pulling you closer to him, “What do you want darling?”.

“Want me to take that delicious clit of yours between my lips?” his words were making you wetter by the second. You nodded your head sounding all too desperate, “Yes Tom please”. Once again he laughed, becoming more intoxicated with you.

His voice was so low, “All you had to do was ask”. The smug bastard finally took your clit between his lips, sucking deeply. The most obscene sounds were leaving his mouth as you felt electricity with each touch of his tongue.

Tom’s face was buried between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. You were trying not to moan, but it was so hard because his mouth was working wonders. He’d move his tongue in all different directions and speeds as his face was buried between your folds.

“You taste so fucking good (y/n)” he said while groaning. You started to breath quicker, feeling yourself become closer. Tom could sense it too, so he pulled back. As he stood behind you, you could feel his hardness pressing against you.

He slid a finger between your folds where his mouth had previously been. As he teased you he spoke, “You’re even more incredible than I’d imagined..you have no idea what you do to me”.

Tom thrust his hips forward, “Can you feel how hard you’ve made me?”. You nodded your head while breathlessly saying yes. He was grinning once again, “With each second I spend with you I find myself becoming more intoxicated with you”.

Tom gripped your hips tightly while rolling his hips forward. Throwing his head back he groaned, “Oh fuck darling...I can only imagine how you’d feel wrapped around my cock”. You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him.

“Then fuck me Tom...make me your little slut”. His head snapped forward, and his eyes widened. As he processed your words he’d lost any control over himself that he’d had. Tom’s breathing was heavy, “Fuck you’re perfect (y/n)”.

Tom nearly ripped off all his clothing, not wanting to spend another second where he wasn’t buried deep inside you. The entire time you were just biting your lip in anticipation, your core aching for his touch.

Finally you felt the head of his dick move slowly up and down your slit teasing you. He groaned, “Say it again (y/n)”. With one hand he tightly gripped your hip, while he held his cock in the other.

Your voice was low, “make me your little slut”. Tom was grinning like a madman, your words driving him wild. His head teased your entrance, “Want me to claim your pretty pink pussy”.

You nodded your head, “Yes Tom”. He rolled his hips forward, watching you arch your back in anticipation. As he finally entered you Tom threw his head back, groaning loudly. His thrusts were slow at first, letting you adjust to his size.

“Tell me how it feels love”. Your smile was wide as you felt the pleasure starting to build up. You loved having him be so in control, “So fucking good”. Tom nodded his head, picking up the pace.

He slid one hand up your back, grabbing a fistful of your hair. With each thrust he repeated, “So-fucking-good”. You started to press back onto him, wanting him to be even deeper inside of you.

Tom gripped your hips tighter, as he rolled his own hips forward. His hand tangled in your hand felt so good, “Oh Tom”. As he looked down at you and saw how lost in the moment you were becoming, he found himself becoming lost too.

He just threw his head back, fucking you harder. He was hitting your g-spot, making you nearly scream out his name. You closed your eyes, letting the feelings of pleasure take over. As he held onto your hips he went even deeper inside of you.

“You look so fucking beautiful love” he said moving even faster. This was all so new to you, but it felt so right. Your hands were bound, and Tom had total control over you, but you loved it.

You trusted him, and that made everything feel even better. As you moaned his name loudly you realized he had gotten you to explore a side of yourself you had always kept closed off.

It felt so good to just be filthy with him, knowing full well that he loved every second of it. You were pulled from your thoughts as you felt him spank you again, making you jump. You just bit your lip, a smile soon forming on your face.

Tom massaged you now red ass cheek, “Fucking incredible”. Your smile only grew, his words making you even wetter. You could see his reflection in the mirror, and he looked so happy.

You watched as his muscular arms held you in place, his hips rolling forward. He was half smirking while breathing rapidly, he chest moving up and down. You could tell that just like you, he was letting himself become overcome with pleasure.

You moved your head to rest against the cold tile counter, closing your eyes as you smirked to yourself. Your voice was soft, “I’m so close”. He nodded his head while moving his hips even faster.

“I want you to cum with me (y/n)” he said inbetween pants. You nodded your head, knowing your orgasm was extremely close. His voice was demanding, “Cum right now (y/n)...fucking cum”.

His words pushed you over the edge, and you let yourself go. Your moans filled the room as you felt your orgasm shake throughout your entire body. Tom was right there with you, moaning just as loudly.

He held onto your hips tightly, his thrusts becoming slopier as he felt himself cumming. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over your entire body, and it was the most intense it had ever felt for you.

Together you rode out your orgasms, both completely lost in eachother. Tom’s groans were so low they were almost growls. He let himself go wild, the same intense feeling of pleasure shaking throughout his entire body.

For a moment the only noise in the room was the both of you trying to catch your breath. Slowly he pulled out of you, “Fucking hell...that was amazing….”. You stood up straight, seeing his smirk through the reflection in the mirror.

Finally he untied your hands, and you turned to face him. He brought your wrists to his mouth, kissing them lightly. He was smiling, “I hope that wasn’t too much for you (y/n)...do your wrists hurt?’.

Just like that he could switch from relentlessly fucking you, to looking at you like a concerned puppy hoping you weren’t hurt. You giggled, “I liked it….a lot”. Tom nodded his head while a smile formed upon his lips.

He looked so proud, “You liked it huh darling?”. You rolled your eyes but found yourself laughing. Looking to him you joked, “You were enjoying yourself to Tom”. He bit his lip, sheepishly running a hand through his hair.

“I guess the cats out of the bag with this one…”. You brought your hands up to wrap around his neck, pulling his body closer to yours. Before kissing him you teased, “A little coy are we now Tom?”.

He laughed before kissing you, this time the kiss was soft. His hands slowly exploring your body, taking his time to remember each curve. When the kiss was over he rested his head against yours, “You know I wouldn’t mind doing-”.

Smirking you said, “I’d meant what I’d said Tom...I’m all yours now”. You watched as his entire face lit up, and he held your body closer to his. Tom was smiling, “I really like you (y/n)...this isn’t going to just be some fling”.

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek, “You’ve always meant so much to me (y/n)..and now that I finally have you I don’t want to let you go”. You could see the amount of emotion he’d put into every word, and you couldn’t help but kiss him again.

After the kiss was over you moved to the door, “We better get back to set or else people might think-”. Tom quickly put back on his clothes, following you to the bathroom door. He held your hand, “Fuck it (y/n) let the whole world know”.

You smiled, squeezing his hand. You walked out of the bathroom, paid the waitress, and walked back to set together. Chris was the first to notice, and he clapped his hands together.

With a smirk he teased, “Dude FINALLY it’s been like two straight years of eyesex between you both”. You and Tom looked to each other before erupting with laughter. Chris noticed the blush on your cheeks making him raise an eyebrow.

He looked you both up and down, taking in how disheveled you looked. He pointed at you with wide eyes, “Oh my god, you both totally just fucked! Did-”. You rushed over to Chris, covering his mouth.

Chris wiggled his eyebrows while smirking, “Don’t worry your secret’s safe with me….until I tell Mackie and he totally loses it and tells everyone!”. You rolled your eyes, but once again Tom held your hand. After seeing the smile on his face you looked to Chris, “Fuck it...Let the whole world know”.

Toms eyes lit up once again, and he rested his head on your shoulder briefly. After staying like that for a second you heard the call for you to get back on set. You smirked before getting ready to do the next interview with Chris, and you now boyfriend Tom.

♡ thank you for taking the time to read this, you’re a babe♡

Forever tags: aka some amazing people: @moonlessnight14 @sexyvixen7 @angieptt​ @painkiller80 @becca-dolan @team-heichou @thatpeachybandgirl​ @allthesesonsobitches @buckybarneshairpullingkink @couldabeenamermaid​ @taeeemin​ @littleredstarfish @nali67​ @only4wakingup​ @mcenziehughes​

*if there is a line through your name that means that for some reason it won’t allow me to tag you*

*forever tags are always open*

#tom hiddleston #tom Hiddleston filth #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston smut #tom Hiddleston imagine #tom Hiddleston fic #Chris evans

[pointlesstrashyexistence]

Every few days I think about how if Supernatural’s writers were just planning on killing of Cas and then never mentioning him again with the original ending involving the possibility of just a brief cameo of him in Heaven weirdly partying with (dead?) Kansas, I probably would’ve preferred it if Cas didn’t have a confession scene.

Ok here me out. Yes I ship DeanCas/Destiel. Yes I loved that there was at least acknowledgment of Cas�� romantic feelings towards Dean. Misha has outright said the confession was romantic and there have already been two official dubs in two different languages where the “I love you” specifically uses phrases that show romantic love. It’s not up for debate anymore if those feelings were romantic.

But if they were just going to throw that in there and get rid of Cas and never mention him again except for two scenes where he doesn’t appear and one that is just Lucifer pretending to be him to gain access to the bunker, I would’ve preferred it if Cas’ true happiness was something that I think would’ve been the ultimate acknowledgement of Cas’ transformation, which I feel would’ve been Jack calling Cas his dad and telling his dad how much he loves him. Of all three members of Team Free Will 1.0, Cas has been the most like a dad to Jack. Cas was the one who eventually helped Kelly hide, prepared a home for Jack and Kelly to live in, for Jack to be raised in safe and loved and cared for. Cas was the one prepared to go down fighting to protect Jack before Jack was even born. Cas is the one who always runs to Jack, to protect Jack, to save Jack, even if it means creating a rift between him, Sam, and Dean.

I love my Sam Winchester is Jack Kline’s Father fics, and my Dean Winchester is Jack Kline’s Father fics, and my Team Free Will 1.0 are Jack Kline’s Fathers fic on ao3 . I do. But if we’re talking about in the show, Cas is the one who is the most like a father to Jack.

Love Dean and wish that man had been given therapy and anger management and AA meetings and working to become a better, less violent person who takes accountability for what he’s done as his finale ending rather than just dying by a fucking nail through the chest, something Cordelia on Buffy The Vampire Slayer survives after like a twenty foot drop from a staircase. But Dean outright hates Jack during his widower arc and makes it known how much of a monster he thinks Jack is to the point where Jack repeatedly tries to commit suicide and then it’s just never really brought up again after Cas comes back and Dean then just goes back and forth on whether he thinks Jack is part of his family or not for the last three seasons. As much as I like the few scenes where Dean is actually bonding with Jack and calls him “their kid” and Jack referring to himself as a Winchester, Dean isn’t really Jack’s dad in the show. Do I think this probably would’ve been a different story if we got baby Jack? Yes, but that’s not what I’m talking about right now

Sam? Sam definitely tries at first. Sam gets what it’s like to feel like a monster and be viewed as one even when your not, and calls out Dean for how he acts and behaves towards Jack. But Dean just as easily calls out Sam for using Jack to try and get their mother back and trying to appear invested in Jack to get what he wants. Sam’s affection for Jack is conditional at first. He gradually grows to be more paternal to Jack but by season 14, it kind of just dwindles away. We got all this buildup of Sam and Jack’s relationship, which yes there should’ve been because here you have someone who was supposed to be the True Vessel of Lucifer, the Boy King of Hell and the Antichrist, the Son of Lucifer, and there’s not really any care given to it afterwards. That season was probably the last time the writers actually did anything interesting with Sam and tried to give him an arc in my opinion.

Cas though? Cas, who was a warrior of God that led garrisons and killed the offspring nephilim of lesser angels? Cas who grows a respect and admiration for humanity, seeing them as complex miraculous beings rather than hairless apes like the majority of the angels? Cas who defends humanity’s existence against other angels even at the cost of his life? Cas who originally thought of the Antichrist as a monster that needed to be killed to protect humanity but heard Kelly talk about how good she believed her child could be despite being the son of the devil and saw a paradise on earth when he actually communicated with Jack in the womb? Cas who separated from the only other two people he has consistently turned to for help and has provided help for in order to try and ensure Jack would be a child safe and loved even if it meant being away from the people he considered family and could die protecting Jack and Kelly? Cas who unconditionally loves and treats Jack as his child throughout the last three season? He is definitely Jack’s father.

I just think there’s something very fitting about the angel who unconditionally loved humanity despite never being able to entirely follow god’s orders raising the supposed antichrist who becomes a god that respects humanity’s free will. And I think that scene would’ve been fantastic in that Cas loves Jack as his child so much that he makes that deal with the Empty in the first place to protect Jack , but Cas loves Jack so much that Jack is the reason the deal is broken. Jack doesn’t realize Cas thinks of him as his child the same way Cas doesn’t think Jack sees him as his dad, and that recognition that they feel the same way is the most bittersweet moment in the world because their first moment where they mutually knowingly recognize each other as parent and child seems like it might be the last one they have together as they hug. Jack sobs while furiously apologizing as he sees black goo come to reach Cas who only has a few more second left to kiss the top of his child’s head and hug him close and say something like “I love you so much my son” before pushing him away while Jack watches, crying as he calls out “Dad don’t leave me” as his father get covered in black goo while smiling with tears streaming down his face before disappearing.

I’m not sure how that situation could’ve occurred. Maybe Jack and Cas are together when people start disappearing, and Jack worries about how if Chuck doesn’t consider him important enough to torment he could also be proofed away, and he wants to tell his dad how much he loves him in that way kids do when they think they might see their parents for the last time and despite being in basically an adult body Jack is still three and not really thinking about what could happen or doesn’t even think this could be Cas’ happiest moment because he always thought Cas knew Jack thought of him as his dad. I don’t know.

But that scene happens and the Empty collects Cas and then when Jack becomes god and brings everyone back, he somehow also brings Cas back from the empty. Look the writers gave absolutely no good reason for why Lucifer somehow came back from the empty in 15x19 when the Empty specifically states that Chuck has no power in her domain so why should I? But I guess if I was going to it would’ve involved Jack finding out how it got loud in the empty and bargaining with the Empty in trading demons, angels, and other nephilim in exchange for making the empty quiet again and managing to deal with what to do with all of these now revived supernatural creatures. Still frustrated that the show made God the enemy and turned Billie into a last minute villain when the Empty was right the, the Enpty was hyped up, and then it just took Cas and Billie and disappeared, and was never heard from again.

Anyways, Jack and Amara separate but they’re still functioning as a unit and are working together to fix the other universes as well as heaven and the systems of who gets sent to heaven, hell, and purgatory in a sort of season 4 of the Good Place style, and Cas takes on a major role as the celestial being with the most interaction with and understanding of humanity, especially with that time he was a homeless human under his belt to provide his own reflection on why certain people may do things that are wrong like stealing in order to provide just a basic need for themselves like stealing food to eat. It’s implied that Rowena’s involved in this too. Cas and Jack say their goodbyes to Sam and Dean. If I had it my way, the finale would end up being like the one I made up in an earlier post where Sam and Dean get their beach day but realize that their relationship isn’t healthy for either of them and separate and the viewer no longer has access to what they do with their lives afterwards because Sam and Dean now have control of their own stories and decide who gets to see it. But I guess what I made up fixes some general overarching complaints about the last three episodes. I still hate that last episode and what I feel is the assassination of 15 years of character development of Sam and Dean in order to go back to S1 with Sam as the main character and Dean as the side character interrupting his life but I just barely acknowledge it as the show’s finale.

I do love the confession scene. I really do. But if it was just going to end with Cas dying a minute after confessing his love and never being seen or acknowledged again, I would’ve much rather preferred it being that his happiest moment was being with his child in the endless feedback loop of familial love.

#Supernatural #SPN #spn #supernatural #Jack Kline #jack kline #Castiel #castiel #cas thee el #Cas Thee El #spn 15x18 #spn 15x19 #Castiel is Jack Kline’s Father #castiel is jack kline’s father #Castiel is Jack’s Father #castiel is jack’s father #cas is jack’s father #Cas is Jack’s Father

[reidingandwriting]

10 Things I Hate About You (And 1 Thing I Love)

Word Count: ~2000 words

Ship: Peter Parker x Stark!Daughter, Avengers x Reader (platonic/family)

Warnings: Mild language, but that’s it!

A/N: This was so much fun to write honestly, we love fluffy chaos. It was originally going in a COMPLETELY different direction, but I decided to be nice and give you guys the fluffy version instead 😉 I attached the “10 things” list at the end in case you wanted it :)

You took a breath as you stood at the altar, hands interlocked with your fiancé Peter’s, and you began to speak.

“I hate your jokes, they’re so stupid.” Everyone in the room laughed, including Peter. “You’re the only person who could make such lame jokes funny. I especially hate that goofy laugh of yours that follows, that’s what makes the jokes tolerable. I hate that smile of yours, how it lights up the room. Seriously, it’s so bright, I need an Advil for my headache.” Peter let out a tearful laugh and your thumb brushed over his knuckles.

“I hate how hardworking you are. You built yourself up from nothing, you worked hard in everything you did. You overachiever, I look like a slacker. I hate how my family loves you and how they didn’t scare you off. Trust me, my dad tried.” Your dad called out a ‘hell yeah I did!’ which sent the small venue into laughter again. “My family’s all very guarded, but you smashed through those walls and you became like another member of the family. I hate how even my dog loves you, and he hates everyone. You can ask Dad, the day we took him off the street, he tried to bite him. He never liked anyone that I dated, until I met you.” Peter gave you a smile, which you gladly returned. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but you blinked them back.

“I hate how you always know how to make me laugh, you know I hate how my laugh sounds. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this much until I met you. I hate how you always want to help everyone, even when struggling yourself. You could be out in the freezing cold, and you would give the shirt off your back to whoever needed it. You’re going to get sick or hurt doing that one day, you self sacrificing dork.”

“I hate how much you care about your friends. I won’t admit it again, but we truly are lucky to have you. Every endless day we spend with you is the best day. Except for our Harry Styles concert, nothing tops that. I hate how you’d lay down your life for your friends- you’d even do it for people who weren’t your friends. That’s just the person you are.” A few stray tears slid down your cheeks now.

“Even with all this complete and utter hatred I have for you,” your tone was playful and Peter was struggling not to cry at this point. You had told him your wedding vows would be a bit unconventional, he expected nothing less from you. You were Y/N Stark after all, being unconventional was a trademark Stark trait. “there’s one thing I love about you that cancels out all of that.”

“You made me feel like I belonged whenever so many people made me feel like I didn’t. From the second I started at Midtown, everyone treated me differently. Students and teachers were either terrified of me and what my dad could do, or they sucked up to me to get in my dad’s good graces. You treated me like I was just Y/N. Not Y/N Stark, daughter of Tony Stark, aka Iron Man. I was a regular teen with you, and I can’t thank you enough for that, Peter.” You wiped your eyes, smiling at the man you were about to marry. Your almost husband. “You introduced me to the best friends I could ever have, and you became the best boyfriend I could ever have. Boyfriend turned into fiancé, and now fiancé is about to turn into husband. These losers in the audience may be part of my family, but I can’t wait to start my own family with you. I love you, Peter Benjamin Parker.”

“I love you, Y/N Y/M/N Stark.” Peter smiled, a tear slipping down his cheek. “Now, if we’re doing the things I hate about you, let’s start with that god awful snoring.” The rest of the ceremony went on beautifully. Your dad wouldn’t admit it, but he totally cried whenever you and Peter said your “I do’s” and kissed. Meanwhile, Pepper wouldn’t let your dad forget it that he cried. Once the ceremony was finished, you moved the reception outside. Laura and Clint’s kids played with Scott’s daughter Cassie and your sister Morgan, while the adults continued the reception. The wedding was intimate, with your family of Avengers and Peter’s Aunt May and some friends of yours made up the guest list.

“I can’t believe Y/N’s married.” Natasha stood next to Tony, watching as you and Peter made your rounds with all the guests.

“Me neither.” Clint hummed in agreement, standing beside Natasha. “I remember the day I taught her to flip off the paparazzi.” Tony laughed at the memory, Pepper sending a playful glare to the archer. Tony still had the magazine in his office, the picture of you showing the camera your middle finger on the cover. You were only nine or ten at the time, you were all grown up now. You still liked to give the paparazzi your signature pose.

“How about the time she programmed FRIDAY to play that horrible Rebecca Black song every time we tried to use FRIDAY?” It was Steve’s turn to speak, and he groaned as he got the song stuck in his head again.

“Or that time she got FRIDAY to play that Black Widow song every time I entered the room?” Natasha’s face morphed into one of annoyance, but there was no real irritation behind it.

“What about the time Lady Y/N came to Asgard and made friends with Loki?” Thor remembered on your fourteenth birthday how you visited Asgard. It took endless tears and begging for your parents to agree. They finally agreed after you made a ten minute presentation, and Thor had promised to keep you safe. You loved Asgard and the people you met loved you- even Loki was fond of the young Stark. During your weekend in Asgard, you had spent equal time with the brothers. Thor gave you tours of Asgard and the castle, while Loki showed you some important spots from his childhood. You hated having to leave, but you came back every time you could. You even convinced Loki to spend more time on Earth (Midgard as he preferred to call it).

“I can’t forget about the time Tony brought in Y/N to the medbay when her hand was broken, he was hysterical. And you remember how she broke it?” Bruce looked at Tony, who rolled his eyes with a faint smirk.

“By punching that Flash kid in the face and breaking his nose.” Pepper shook her head at the memory, looking at the now grown up kids she loves. “They’ve always had each other’s backs. Now they’ve got each other forever. And they’ve got all of us.” Tony smiled as his older daughter walked over, Peter talking to his aunt. You gave everyone a hug, thanking them for coming.

“Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time for our dance, Dad.” Your dad nodded, pressing a kiss to his own wife’s cheek before walking to you.

“Let’s dance.” You lead your dad to the dance floor, your arm linked with his. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and Tony’s wrapped around your waist as you began to dance.

“I can’t believe my little girl is married now.” Tony spoke softly as you two danced, your dress sparkling under the lights as you moved. “Seems like just yesterday I held you in my arms for the first time.”

“It doesn’t feel real yet.” You hummed in agreement, looking up at your dad. “It still feels like I should be at home, having tea parties with Morgan, and giving you heart attacks with Peter.” Tony rolled his eyes, remembering how mere months ago, Tony was making a cup of coffee. You and Peter came to the lake house for Christmas, and you two were spending time with Morgan in your room.

Tony smiled as he heard the sound of laughter through the halls, until he heard a loud crash and Peter yell “shit!” which Morgan replied “that’s Mom’s word!” Tony ran to the sound, stopping at the sight. Morgan, holding your phone, stood beside Peter, who was doubled over laughing. Then he saw you, sprawled across the floor, roller skates on your feet. Pieces of shattered ceramic, dirt, flowers were surrounding you, which Tony recognized as the vase of flowers Morgan set up last week. You raised your head, looking at Morgan.

“Did you get that on video?!” You fist pumped the air as Morgan nodded, carefully getting back up. You froze when you saw your dad and looked at your fiancé and sister. “Retreat, retreat!!” You skated past your dad, Morgan and Peter following you as they laughed.

“Y/N, Morgan, and Peter! Get your asses back here and clean this up!”

“You see all these gray hairs? You caused them.” You laughed, giving your dad an award winning smile.

“We add excitement to your life.” Tony laughed, twirling you.

“And I can’t be happier that I have you two hooligans in my life.” You smiled as the song paused and everyone looked around. A familiar song started playing over the speakers, and your dad grinned. The slow song had been replaced by Mr. Brightside, one of yours and your dad’s favorite songs. The rest of the guests came to the dance floor, dancing and singing (yelling) the lyrics. The rest of the night was filled with singing, dancing, and laughter.

You stood beside Peter at the end of the night, swaying slightly as you held your sleeping sister. She was older now, but she never missed a chance for you to hold her. Your eyes traveled the room, taking in the sights around you. The rest of the kids were off by themselves, eating leftover wedding cake and drinking soda out of the champagne flutes. Ned and MJ had taken over the music, playing everything from throwbacks to today’s music, jumping around (as they’d call it, dancing) and laughing. The team of heroes were all broken out into their own groups, everyone getting along fine.

“I can’t believe this is our life.” You spoke after a minute of silence. “I remember when it was just me, my dad, and Happy. I never would’ve thought my family would grow from that group of three to all of us now.” Your eyes landed on your dad, who was laughing with the original Avengers team.

“If you would have told me in the start of high school that I was going to become an Avenger, fall in love with Tony Stark’s daughter, and join the family of the Earth’s mightiest heroes, I would think I was in a dream. And now it’s my reality. I’ve always wanted a big, happy family like this. And you gave it to me.” Peter smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your eyes closed, savoring the moment.

“Our family’s about to expand by one more, too.” You whispered and Peter’s jaw dropped as it clicked.

“We’re having a baby?” You nodded with a smile, laughing as Peter hugged you tight, being careful not to disturb Morgan.

“We’re having a baby. Don’t tell my dad you know, he wanted to be the first to know.” You rested your head on his shoulder and Peter’s arm made its way around your waist.

“Our child really is going to have the best family to grow up in.” As you looked at your husband, you smiled to yourself.

‘Yeah.’ You thought. ‘They really will.’

1. Your stupid jokes

2. Your laugh

3. Your smile

4. How hardworking you are

5. How much my family loves you

6. Even my dog loves you, and he doesn’t like anyone

7. How you always know how to make me laugh

8. How you always want to help everyone

9. How much you care about your friends

10. And how you’d lay down your life for them

11. And how you made me feel normal

Taglist: @daughter-of-stark @agent-barnes40 @spideygirl2003 @ditttiii 💖 Taglist is OPEN, please let me know if you’d like to be added. Requests are also OPEN, feel free to make requests :)

#pepperony #pepper potts #mcu x reader #morgan stark #tony stark #marvel imagines #irondad #marvel #stark!reader #stark!daughter #tony stark x reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x stark!daughter #domestic avengers #avengers family #MJ #ned leeds #not endgame compliant #post endgame #mom!pepper #ironfam #dad!tony #peter parker is precious #avengers #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #tony stark is a good dad

[gondowan]

Darling, Dearest, Dead

Pairing: Matsukawa Issei/Hanamaki Takahiro

Issei thinks he really should get a straight answer from Takahiro about his three dead husbands, but it’s really hard to think when said person of interest- the one he’s had feelings for since high school- is sucking his soul out through his cock. 

Tags/Warnings: mutual pining. happy ending. post-time skip. confessions. blow jobs. two idiots in love. this is kind of angsty but has a fluffy happy ending i promise lol. I’m all about The Yearning you know?. oc death off-screen.  

Word Count: 4,084

Notes: I set out to write a pwp but ended up with 4k words of feels?

The television is on in Matsukawa Issei’s tiny office at Peaceful Hills Funeral Home. Space is always a premium at a mortician’s, more so if you’re the owner and sole employee of said funeral home, trying to get it to stay afloat. It’s not like Matsukawa can just stack the dead on top of each other, or tetris them to create more space, no. Doing so would be disrespectful. When Matsukawa isn’t busy attending to family members of the recently deceased or embalming, he does all of his paperwork in a tiny, cramped fire hazard of a broom closet, with the television as his sole companion. Matsukawa never minded silence, but well, when you’re surrounded by dead bodies, sometimes you just need a little background noise.

His cigarette is lit between his lips, rapidly turning into ash as he stares blankly at the television, enraptured by the story unfolding in front of him.

POLICE CITE NATURAL CAUSES IN DEATH OF SHIPPING MAGNATE YOSHIOKA HIDEKI.

Yoshioka Hideki, owner of Yoshioka Shipping International, aged 54, husband to Yoshioka Takahiro, nee Hanamaki, Matsukawa’s best friend and the love of his life. As soon as they graduated, Hanamaki had packed his bags for Tokyo, citing an urge to get out there and just try out life in the big city. Matsukawa stayed behind in Miyagi, finished college, and completed his mortician apprenticeship, the first of many milestones in his adult life, alone. Oikawa had gone to Argentina, chasing his dreams of volleyball.  Iwaizumi, although he would never admit it, was doing his best to position himself to cross Oikawa’s path again.

In the cold bitter nights when Matsukawa is behind on work and pulling long hours, he always thought Hanamaki would be there by his side, but he pushes those thoughts away. No amount of regret ever changed the past, no amount of wishing ever changed the future.

If he’s happy, that’s good enough for Matsukawa.

---

The first time Hanamaki told Matsukawa he was engaged was when he was visiting Tokyo to see him, a year after Hanamaki had moved. Matsukawa thought they were going to hang out, just like old times, so when he opens the door of the fancy apartment (how did Takahiro afford all this?) and an older man answers the door, Matsukawa puts two and two together. He attends their elopement as their only witness, feeling the dual bitterness of losing someone and mourning the friendship he thought they shared.

The second time, Hanamaki casually drops the news over the phone as Matsukawa is signing a contract. He falters, and ink splatters over the page. He’ll have to reprint it and start over. This time, Hanamaki elopes in Bali, and although he extends Matsukawa an invitation, Matsukawa knows better than to go.

The third time, Matsukawa finds out via the news.

---

“You either need to tell him or get over it,” Iwaziumi says, stubbing out his cigarette in the tray between them, ever the realist.

“That’s rich coming from you, Hajime.” Matsukawa sneers. He doesn’t mean to be rude to Iwaizumi, the man has been there for him for so long and is really only verbalizing what Matsukawa knows on the inside, but he can’t help it. “Let me know when you tell Oikawa how you feel.”

“I’m about to, actually.” Iwaizumi says, crossing his arms with a sigh. “I’m headed to Argentina soon. I’m going to tell him.”

Matsukawa is stunned. He figured Iwaizumi would’ve preferred to evaporate on the spot rather than admit his feelings to Oikawa.  “I...I’m happy for you,” he whispers, “I know he feels the same.”

“We’ll see won’t we?” the shorter man says, an undercurrent of nervousness in his voice, a fond look on his face.

The two get married the following year, a beautiful ceremony on the Argentine beach surrounded by family and friends new and old. The ceremony has an added effect of bringing Hanamaki back into Matsukawa’s life, and they rekindle their friendship over a series of extremely alcoholic margaritas and questionable decisions in the hot Argentine nights. Matsukawa will take what he can get, because Hanamaki seems happy with Yoshioka-san, and as long as Makki is happy, Matsukawa can learn to be too. That acknowledgement doesn’t do anything to fill the hole in his soul, but it does soften the pain just a little. Hanamaki never talks about his husband or anything related to his romantic life past or present, and Matsukawa doesn’t ask. Ignorance is bliss.

---

Matsukawa’s cell rings, disturbing his reverie. He doesn’t even look at the screen before answering.

“Yoshioka-san.” he murmurs, as if it doesn’t hurt each time he has to call the love of his life by another man’s name.

“It’s back to Hanamaki now, Issei”, the voice on the other end of the line is cheerful, playful even for someone who just became a widower for the third time.

“I…” Matsukawa falters and the condolences he had prepared dies on his lips. Hanamaki always had (and continues to have) the stunning ability to catch Matsukawa off-guard. When they would play three-on-three practice games at Seijoh, Hanamaki always gave Matsukawa the most trouble. And just like that, Matsukawa slips back into his old ways, Hanamaki’s name rolling off his tongue like it belongs there, if only he would let him. “Takahiro...how are you doing?”.

---

It’s quite difficult to surprise a mortician in regards to anything having to do with death and dying, but from over a thousand miles away, Hanamaki manages to do just that.

“Let me get this straight, you want to ship the body to Miyagi, again?” Matsukawa sputters. He’s on his third cigarette of the phone call, and there’s too much information for him to process—the death of his best friend’s third spouse, the feelings he’s never addressed, the hurt that’s simmered in the back of his mind that Hanamaki left Miyagi, it’s a lot. I should’ve gone to therapy, the wayward thought has floated in Matsukawa’s mind, but he’s still not ready to face the music.

“Makki, people are going to think that you’re offing these people to help support your best friend’s funeral home.” he jokes.

The question from the last two times lingering on his lips, “You didn’t...have anything to do with their deaths did you?”

The pause before Hanamaki answers stretches a little too long for Matsukawa to be comfortable with.

“Isn’t that what friends are for?” Hanamaki finally says, completely sidestepping the question, the teasing tone in his voice still very at odds with the current circumstances, “Anyways, I’ve arranged for the body to be flown overnight to Miyagi, you just need to pick it up at the regional airport. We can talk about additional arrangements and such after you pick it up.”

“Makki I don’t—”

“Please, Issei?” he pleads, and Matsukawa gives, like he always does.

---

It’s raining softly as Matsukawa parks his car at the airport, the clammy yellow lighting reflecting off the new wax job he had just gotten. While he would’ve liked to drive a flashier car around, a van is just easier for all the transport he has to do, and the hearse is really only used for special occasions (and draws too many eyes). It’s not as if he’s driving dates around anyway or has anyone to impress, so discreet soccer mom van it is.

He checks the time and walks into the lobby. It’s usually a straightforward task, picking up a corpse from an airport. Matsukawa just needs to show the proper ID and his mortician’s license, check that the body is properly labeled and identified (wouldn’t want to take the wrong body back), and load it onto a gurney. If he’s lucky the body has been refrigerated, if not, well, hopefully the recently deceased Yoshioka-san is in an airtight container.

The woman at the Peach Airlines counter looks way too peppy for the hour of day. She confirms his ID and walks into the office to retrieve the container. Matsukawa excuses himself to use the bathroom, and when he walks out, the body has been brought out.

What Matsukawa doesn’t expect however, is the man waiting beside the casket. His breath catches as he allows himself to savor the view in front of him. Hanamaki is dressed simply in a black coat and patterned slacks, looking more formal than Matsukawa has ever seen, strawberry brown hair cut neatly in a way that frames his face perfectly. There are some lines in the corner of his eyes that weren’t there before. Hanamaki is a vision in the dim light of the airport, even as he shifts awkwardly next to his deceased husband’s casket.

It’s 10 PM Japan Standard Time on a cold rainy autumn night, and Matsukawa is still in love.

Thankfully, he manages to compose himself before Hanamaki spots him, and his face breaks out in the most beautiful smile that Matsukawa has ever seen. Before Matsukawa can say anything, Hanamaki folds him into a hug. There’s a strange desperation there that Issei has never seen in Takahiro before, he can feel the tension radiating off the other man’s body, in the way that his hands clench at Matsukawa’s coat. Grief? Relief? Matsukawa isn’t sure.

After a long minute, Hanamaki finally releases him, his hand lingering on Matsukawa’s waist for just a tad longer than appropriate. “I missed you,” Matsukawa says simply, unsure of how else to vocalize the well of emotions he’s gone through the past few years, everything he’s wanted to say but could never find the right time to. I’ve missed you so much it hurts. I’m so in love with you. I think about you all the time. I’m hurt we aren’t as close as we used to be.

Hanamaki looks at him with an expression that Matsukawa can’t quite place, “I’ve missed you too Issei.” There’s a lingering there, like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t.

“Shall we?” he pipes up, the happy-go-lucky mask sliding back over his face. “Can’t just leave a body out in the open like this.”

Matsukawa nods.

---

“Issei...you drive a minivan?” Hanamaki says, as if that is the strangest thing out of this whole situation.

“Had I known you were coming with, I would’ve brought out my Maserati,” he jokes as he opens the door for Hanamaki, the body safely secured in the back.

Hanamaki rolls his eyes as he settles in, “I’ll bet you get all the chicks in this hot rod.”

There’s only one person I want to bring home in this car.

“Oh, so many. Chicks love it when you tell them you haul dead bodies in the back. It does wonders to the libido,”.

Hanamaki laughs, a genuine one that brings a smile to Matsukawa’s face, “I’ll bet.” He puts on a high falsetto, “Matsukawa-san, take me now, right here on the floor of this van where you’ve just hauled Uncle to his final resting place. I must have you, you stupid sexy mortician of a man”.

Matsukawa starts the car, “So you think I’m sexy Makki? Is that it?”.

“Never said you weren’t.”

They drive back in silence as Matsukawa turns that statement over and over in his mind. Hanamaki, true to his form, falls asleep as if this is just another late night. He’s still fast asleep when Matsukawa pulls up to the driveway of the funeral home, the streetlights casting a soft glow on his face. In sleep he looks younger, and Matsukawa is reminded of late nights when they would study together. Hanamaki always fell asleep first, as if he were chasing after something in his dreams.

---

He’s still asleep as Matsukawa unlocks the door and pushes the body into the refrigerated section of the home. Matsukawa is lost in his thoughts at the absurdity of the situation, Takahiro, his best friend, a three-time widower, is asleep in his car while Issei tucks his dead husband into the fridge. What the fuck.

His reverie doesn’t last long however.

“Boo”.

Matsukawa jumps as Hanamaki suddenly grabs his waist.

“Jesus Makki I—“

“Gotcha~” he says in a singsong voice. “You know, this is the first time I’ve been here,” he remarks as he looks around, taking it all in.

“Which is odd, considering you’re now a three-time client.”

Hanamaki shrugs, “I require the best of the best.”

“I’m sure there are better and more established funeral homes in Tokyo than my little place,” Matsukawa scoffs. He really needs a cigarette. Or a break. Maybe both. This is all too much to handle.

Hanamaki runs his hands along the desk, “Maybe. But you built this place from the ground up. All by yourself,”.

Matsukawa knows better than to say what’s on his mind, but he can’t help it. It’s been stewing for so fucking long that he needs to get it out. He may as well get closure now, here, as they stand in front of Hanamaki’s dead husband. “I wanted you by my side you know.”

The other man chuckles, clearly misinterpreting the weight of what he just said, “Right, we’d be like Gomez and Morticia Addams, two partners running a funeral home.”

“If you mean being married and running a small business side-by-side, yeah.” It’s a crude confession, not at all what Issei thought it would be like. Matsukawa thought he’d always have some flowery thing to say to Hanamaki when he finally did confess. Something sweet like the profiteroles that Hanamaki loves so much. He didn’t want to confess in the sterile white lighting of the storage room of his funeral home, to his grieving best friend. Hanamaki deserves better than that, he thinks, but it is what it is.

It all spills out of Matsukawa like a torrent. “I’ve been in love with you since before our last Spring High. Every fucking day I’ve wanted nothing but to hold your hand and kiss you. I thought…I thought after we graduated that we would live a boring normal life together while Iwaizumi and Oikawa run around the world,” he scoffs, trying desperately to chase away the wellspring of tears in his eyes. When did he become so emotional? Years of pining will do that to a man, he supposes.

Hanamaki gapes at him like he wants to say something, but Matsukawa doesn’t relent, words just keep spilling out of him. “It’d be boring by their standards but it would be our kind of boring you know? The dumb kind where we go out for ice cream at 2AM, or fall asleep on the couch,”. He runs a hand through his hair, grasping desperately.

“It hurt so much when you moved away…when you got married and I didn’t even know you were dating someone. After…after the first time I tried to date, tried to get over you, but no one can hold any candle to you in my life.” Matsukawa’s breathing is jagged, jagged like his heart. It feels like he’s trying to talk while running.

“I just…I love you so much Takahiro. I’m in love with the crow’s feet on your eyes that weren’t there before, the way your hair frames your face, your stupid humor, your laugh, how you always try to do-it-all and I just…I..”

“Every time I see you, you bring me to my knees,” he whispers.

Hanamaki doesn’t say a word, not that Matsukawa leaves any room for him to speak. He just closes his eyes. By the end, Matsukawa’s head is spinning and he’s pretty sure he just fucked it all up, but somehow, he’s also relieved. Relieved that he finally got it off his chest. Iwaizumi was right. The whole time, he’d been carrying this burden for so long he doesn’t know what it’s like to not have it, like a lovesick Atlas who doesn’t realize that he could just shrug off the burden and stand up straight again.

“Say something.” Please.

Hanamaki says nothing, just walks up to Matsukawa in bold, self-assured steps. He reaches for his face and Matsukawa flinches, actually flinches, at the touch.

“We’re both idiots, aren’t we?”

Before Matsukawa can say anything Hanamaki reaches his hand to the back of Matsukawa’s neck, pulls at his tie, and kisses him. Issei is pretty sure he’s hallucinating but fuck Hanamaki smells so good, looks so good up close. He takes Hanamaki’s face in his hands, deepening the kiss, nothing on his mind except a litany of yes yes yes.

As they kiss, Hanamaki pushes Matsukawa towards the desk. Matsukawa doesn’t mind, all that he can think about is how badly he’s wanted this, how long he’s waited, how fucking happy he feels. He’s so dizzy with want that he doesn’t even remember where he is, all that exists currently is the feel of Hanamaki’s lips on his and his hands around Hanamaki’s waist.

Hanamaki breaks off the kiss, thumb running over Matsukawa’s cheek before he goes for his neck, pulling open his tie, fumbling at the button on his collar. When he can’t get it open fast enough, his hand wanders further down.

“Makki—wait I—”.

“Shut up.” He says as he drops to his knees, “Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted this.”

Wanted this? Wanted Matsukawa? Issei thinks he might need hearing aids or something, but that thought is wiped out as Hanamaki takes his cock out of his boxers and licks a long, wet stripe along the underside. The groan that escapes him is embarrassing and he grips the edge of the desk for dear life.

“Look at me Issei.” Hanamaki murmurs, pressing a kiss to the tip.

Matsukawa swallows, fluttering his eyes open as he looks down right as Hanamaki takes all of him into his mouth. Had he been a lesser man, he would’ve cum right then and there like a schoolboy. Instead, Matsukawa wills the last of his lucidity into being.

“F-fuck, Makki no—”

Hanamaki looks up at Matsukawa from his knees, a look of shock on his face and an undercurrent of dejection in his plea “You don’t want…?” You don’t want me? Is the unspoken thought.

Matsukawa grits his teeth as he wills himself to pull back, “I do Takahiro, you have no fucking idea how much I want you but no, not here. We need to do this right.”

It’s then that Hanamaki seems to snap out of his daze and remembers where they are. “Oh...oh right, fuck. Uh...let’s go home?”

Matsukawa sighs in relief as Hanamaki gets up. “Yeah..home.”

---

When they get back to Matsukawa’s apartment, he brings out two beers from the fridge, and sets them down on the coffee table.

“Hiro...before we do anything, we should...talk”.

Hanamaki sighs, taking a deep swig, “I know...I owe you that much.”

He fiddles with the label on beer. “The first two times, I needed money, and one of the part-timers suggested this website. I made it clear from the start that it was purely transactional, but I was so afraid of losing everything and coming back to Miyagi with nothing to show for it.”

He looks right at Matsukawa. “I know…I could’ve asked my parents or you or anyone for help but...when you’re in the thick of it you just can’t think straight you know?”

Hanamaki sighs wearily, “The last time, Hideki-kun...was terminally ill and estranged from his family. He didn’t want it to go to them. We got close when I was temping at his office. I..I told him to leave it all to charity, but I guess he felt some sort of strange compulsion to help me. He paid for job training, a therapist, and was just so kind for no reason. All he asked for in return was that I play a role in public.”

“So, you were…arm candy?”

“I wouldn’t even call it that. We had different residences, it was all very compartmentalized. I wish I asked him before but, I think he was just lonely.” Hanamaki scoffs, “At least I did one thing right in my adult life, comfort someone who needed it.”

Matsukawa reaches over, pulling the other man to his chest, running a hand through his hair. Hanamaki fits perfectly on top of Issei’s chest. He lets out a sigh.

“I’m sorry Issei.”

Matsukawa presses a kiss to the top of Hanamaki’s head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he murmurs, “Will you stay this time?”

“Yeah, if you’ll have me.”

“There’s nothing else I want more,” Matsukawa murmurs, before taking Hanamaki’s hand in his and pressing a kiss to his palm.

A muffled voice pipes up, “You..you forgive me?”

“Of course,” Matsukawa says, another kiss to his hand. It’s the easiest thing Matsukawa has ever done. They’ll have to talk more earnestly later and clear years of unspoken pain, but Matsukawa knows that this time, it’ll be alright.

“Just like that?”

Matsukawa angles his head to the side, looking down right into Hanamaki’s eyes as he runs a finger across his eyebrow, “Makki…why do you always think you have to suffer?”.

Hanamaki’s upper lip is quivering. “You sound like my therapist,” he says, voice cracking a little. Matsukawa smiles, and sits up, arms returning to Hanamaki’s waist.

“My clients usually don’t talk back,” he says, planting a soft, tentative kiss to Hanamaki’s cheek.

“Was that an attempt at a funeral joke because if so, you are severely out of practice Issei.” The other man snarks, trying and failing to hide the smile in the corner of his lips as Matsukawa presses a kiss to his forehead.

“You’re in for it now. There’s plenty more where that came from,” He murmurs before finally meeting Hanamaki’s lips. “No escape from the horrible puns.”  

“What a tragedy,” Hanamaki says, mouth opening to meet Matsukawa’s. He runs his hands down Hanamaki’s side like he’s always envisioned himself doing. A jolt of electricity runs through him and he feels emboldened by both their confessions and Hanamaki finally being in his arms. Matsukawa pushes Hanamaki so that his back is on the cushions, lips on the edge of his neck, hands intertwining with Hanamaki’s. Matsukawa works his way down slowly, kissing every inch of Hanamaki that he can get access to—the other man’s Adam’s apple, the hollow of his throat, his collarbones, trying to immortalize him in his mind. Below him, Hanamaki shivers to his touch, hips rising up to meet Matsukawa’s.  

Matsukawa swallows, fingertips grasping right at the edge of Hanamaki’s slacks. “May I?” he whispers, as if he’s afraid that if he’s any louder, Hanamaki will disappear again.

“I want you. I’ve wanted you.” Hanamaki says, “I—”. Emboldened, Matsukawa quickly undoes his belt and pulls his slacks down. There’s less composure in Matsukawa’s movements then he would like, but fuck it, Hanamaki is front of him in the flesh, and willing. He palms Hanamaki’s cock through his boxers, relishing in the hiss of breath that escapes Hanamaki’s gritted teeth as Matsukawa kisses the v-line of his hips. There’s no particular rhyme or reason to Matsukawa’s movements, and they’re a bit sloppy, but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is how good Hanamaki tastes and how good it feels when Hanamaki’s hand grips his hair.

He looks up at Hanamaki from between his thighs, wiping his mouth with his thumb. Hanamaki’s face is a pretty pink, lower lip swollen from how hard he’d been biting it. For a second, Matsukawa thinks about all that he’s ever wanted to do, will do, to Hanamaki, and shivers before returning his attentions to Hanamaki’s cock.

Hanamaki is beautiful as he comes undone in Matsukawa’s mouth, his fingers intertwined with Matsukawa’s other hand, back arching off the sofa cushions. They hold each other on the couch, giggling like school children- a heady mix of happiness, joy, and relief having found each other again.

---

The television is on in Matsukawa Issei’s tiny office at Peaceful Hills Funeral Home. Space is always a premium at a mortician’s, more so now that he’s no longer the sole employee of said funeral home. Instead, when he looks up and past the door, he can see his husband Hanamaki on the phone as well, jotting down notes from another client.

Matsukawa’s cigarette is lit, rapidly turning into ash as he just takes in the view in front of him, watching the light catch on the wedding band that Takahiro wears.

Darling, dearest, his.

---

I originally set out to write a PWP where they bang in the funeral home but...this...happened. I fell out of HQ for a long time (dipped out after Seijoh lost), but recently finished the manga and got slapped in the face with Mattsun working at a funeral home post-timeskip like ?? sir?? are you aware how hot you are??? and then I felt an inexplicable need to break his heart for a bit. Just a little. Also big thanks to @/plumtreeforest as always <3 ​

Comments/reblogs/etc always appreciated <3 can’t believe I finally got around to writing fic of my faves in the year 2021. I missed them. 

#haikyuu!! #hanamaki takahiro #matsukawa issei #matsuhana #matsukawa x hanamaki #seijoh #mono writes #I needed to get the Pining out of my system

[annes-andromeda]

Fanon Marvel cause they got I S S U E S

This isn’t really a fanfic thing, more or less what I envision the MCU would be in MY head. Granted not everyone’s gonna agree with these points, but that’s fine. Well all got our own opinions☺️

Q: Who survives the Snap in Fanon?

A: Steve, Thor, Bruce, Natasha, Clint, Nebula, Gamora, Rhodey, Rocket, Scott, Okoye, Shuri, Pepper, Wong, Valkyrie, Loki, and Tony

Q: Will anyone be recast?

A: Yes. Monica Rambeau is Captain Marvel instead of Carol Danvers. Make of that as you will.

Q: Are there gonna be any major changes?

A: Not for the most part, as I haven’t watched all the Marvel movies. However, these would be the most prominent ones:

* T*ny Stark is an anti-villain. His story has been changed to mostly fit the Superior Iron Man storyline. The IM trilogy would stay the same since I haven’t seen them, as well as the first two Avengers movies. However, he gets his immediate change in Civil War, where we find out that he worked for HYDRA the whole time, and wanted the Avengers to sign the Accords so the organization didn’t get found out. I feel it would’ve been interesting if we had seen Tony turn from a man who pretended to help others survive, into a man who only ever did things to help himself survive. If you don’t like this change: well then suck it cause it’s my fanon🙃

* Steve and Thor are in a relationship. This is mostly a personal preference, but I genuinely think they’d be a good couple. Their feelings would begin to come out in AOU, after the party scene. The two have a drink, slow dance, and confess there feelings. Simple, but cute (I think). Steve would think of Thor in Civil War, while Thor would have a scene in Ragnarok, in which he calls Steve and gets his opinion on everything that has happened to him (Odins death, Hela, losing Mjolnir etc). In Infinity War, they reunite and share a big kiss Pirates of the Caribbean style. As for Endgame: Steve doesn’t go to the past (I.e fucking up the timeline and Peggy’s happy life) and Thor stays on New Asgard to rule as King, with his consort by his side.

* CA:CW- People like Rhodey and Natasha don’t just immediately agree to the Accords. Instead, they go undercover and try to find out what the government is actually doing; Peter is on Team Iron Man until he finds out that Tony is HYDRA. It sucks that M*rvel really out here just making Peter iron boy instead of... ya know... Spider-Man; Civil War has a scene where Steve reminisces on his mother (his real moral compass fight me) and we focus more on him and less on Tinkie’s man pain; Instead of Tony being upset that Bucky killed both of his parents, he’d only get upset about his mother, as he actually wanted his father dead. Got this idea from a post where basically a bunch of people were talking about how Tony was probably HYDRA the whole time, which is where I got the idea. Feel free to add anything else.

* IW: Loki and Gamora don’t die. I feel like they killed off Loki a little too early since he was just getting the arc he so desperately needed. While I don’t really know what to do with him yet, I do know that he’ll be in a relationship with Valkyrie. I mean, did you see their fight scene? The sexual tension. As for Gamora, well we all practically hated it when she died and hated it even more when they brought her 2014 counterpart back from the past. Someone on Quora said that an alternative for Thanos to sacrifice on Vormir could be Ebony Maw, as out of all of Thanos’s children, he worshipped him the most. Maybe Thanos would hesitate as this was his most loyal child, but he does it cause gotta wipe out half the universe or whatever. It wouldn’t be as tragic tho, but (1) that’s the price we gotta pay for Gamora to stay alive, and (2) are we reeeaaally supposed to pity Thanos? Thanos? The guy who only ever fell in love with Death???. Anyways back to Gamora: I actually wanna do something for her. If you’ve ever seen RWBY, one of the main characters essentially loses her arm when she tried to save her friend. I know it sounds cruel for Gamora to loose a limb, but hey, sometimes you just like seeing your fav characters suffer🤷‍♀️. I was thinking it could go two ways:

- (1): Gamora loses her arm like the character in RWBY i.e, saving one of her friends like Mantis, Quill, or Nebula.

- Or (2): Thanos uses the Reality Stone to make the Guardians + Peter and Strange think that they have the upper hand. Strange uses his magic to hold Thanos down while the others try taking off the Infinity gauntlet. Once the gauntlet is nearly loose, Quill would try to strike him, as Nebula realizes that the whole thing is an illusion. But before she could warn the others it’s too late, and Gamora looses an arm to her boyfriend, leaving him and everyone in complete shock. I like this option more, as it would show not only just how cruel Thanos is, but that he never really loved Gamora. He just favored her above all his other kids. And hey, I’m a sap for angst.

* Feel free to add anything else.

* EG: So in the first bullet, I already said which characters survive the snap and that Captain Marvel isn’t Carol, but Monica. Aside from that, I haven’t really thought much of what to do with Endgame. Surprisingly, it’s difficult to write a better story for this one. What I would most like to happen, however, is more character moments. Thor’s PTSD and traumas being taken more seriously, and instead of him gaining weight he loses it (cause according to Tinkie’s dumb rant that’s what gets an audience to take your turmoil seriously. Pls don’t hate me for this decision). Bruce doesn’t turn into Professor Hulk, and his traumas are actually talked about. Also he gets closure on his relationship with Natasha (I know it’s not that great but I personally like it). Clint dies instead of Nat and we remember that Nat was the leader of the Avengers for like five years. Steve properly mourns his friends and actually acts like Steve Rogers and not a fucking imposter. We actually see what happened in Wakanda after the Snap, with Okoye and Shuri at the head of it all. Also Pepper would be stand in for Tony, cause ya know, she has a life outside of him and is actually smart. And her and Scott help with the Time machine or what other plan I or anyone can come up with. Again, feel free to add anything else.

Q: Will there be any new characters added?

A: For now just one: A robot named Iris (aka Iron Blade), created by Tony for HYDRA. I’ve made a summary of her here:

* Iris is an android created by the billionaire Tony Stark, who possesses a synthetic body made of Tungsten Carbide which is powered by the arc reactor in her chest. For years Stark worked into making Iris highly advanced, while also keeping her secret from the rest of the world until she was ready to be used by the organization HYDRA. She was trained by HYDRA in combat and artificial intelligence, transforming Iris into a dangerous, ruthless killing machine. However, she still managed to keep some essence of personality thanks to Tony, who refused to have her be simply mindless. This resulted in Iris inheriting some of Tony’s more negative traits, while even accepting his lavish lifestyle. Although she may act like him, Iris has her own traits which vary from being charismatic, eloquent, and sophisticated to privileged, arrogant and cruel. Due to HYDRA’s influence, Iris is mostly misguided and blindly follows orders.

* Iris was eventually revealed when Tony tried forcing the Avengers to sign the Sokovia Accords as a means to keep HYDRA underground. She was introduced as a new recruit of the US government, in which she had a hand in writing the Accords. When the Avengers found that Iris was created by not just HYDRA but by Tony, this caused a huge riff in the team. The people on Team Iron Man immediately turn on him once finding out that he created Iris, which in turn resulted in them finding out that not only had he been providing the organization with weapons, but was a member himself. Out of all the team members, Iris has the largest fallout with Bucky Barnes (the former Winter Soldier) and Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow), as she mostly worked as their antithesis, showing what probably would’ve occurred had they never recovered from their manipulation at the hands of corrupt organizations.

* After the fight between Iron Man and Captain America, Iris went into hiding alongside Tony, who was no longer a member of the Avengers. For the next two years, Iris stayed by her creators side as he intended to carry out his boss’s plan. The titan Thanos had ordered Stark to help him eradicate half the universe. Tony agreed to the plan, as he believed that Earth had been ungrateful for his attempts at ‘saving’ the world. He would help Thanos, so long as he ensured his safety and payed him. Iris, programmed to follow orders, agreed to the plan without question.

* Once Thanos arrived on Earth, Iris would go to Wakanda to stop the Avengers from destroying the Mind Stone, all the while Stark attempted to kill the Guardians of the Galaxy, Doctor Strange, and Spiderman (also the only one who knew of Tony’s true alignments). Iris, failing to retrieve the Stone, joins Tony on Titan while Thanos fights the Avengers. Despite the Avengers attempts, Thanos gets the stones and does the Snap, in which Tony and Iris survive and go into hiding once more.

That’s pretty much it. I made this cause I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I wanted to share my opinions. Feel free to add anything or give constructive criticism.

#marvel #my thoughts #anti tony stark #anti tony stans #cause I don’t want ya here #thundershield #stevethor #its brief but mentioned #anti endgame #anti civil war #anti iron man #anti irondad #just simply anything relating to tinkie isn’t wanted here #anti mcu #steve rogers #thor odinson #gamora #infinity war rewrite #endgame rewrite #marvel criticism #fanon marvel

[shortqueershakespeare]

bro... you just know imma have to ask for all the questions....

I hope you’re proud of my dedication (also thank you for doing this every time lol)

london: when you visit a city, do you take in the tourist points or the more unknown places?

I like to do both, but more unknown places are fun to either discover myself or be shown by someone who loves the city.

paris: where did you last fall in love?

In a bedroom in Cambridge I think.

berlin: do you find history or geography to be more interesting?

History, I love learning about history, but I didn’t study either at school - I now do some history.

amsterdam: would you drink in a room full of strangers?

That’s just freshers week in a nutshell so yes I did.

prague: rivers or forests?

Forests with lakes, although rivers really make me think of home - in my home city my grandma lives next to a river, as does my dad, at uni I live near a river and in Vienna I commute across the river which I love.

vienna: do you enjoy classic literature?

Yes, definitely, I actually read a lot of classics as a kid but I’ve been slacking lately.

barcelona: beaches or cities?

Cities

madrid: who did you last attend a party with?

I’m assuming it would’ve been with uni friends, or many a zoom party.

budapest: if you could do anything and not have to face the consequences, what would you do?

ooh shit that’s such a good question, right now it’d probably be punch/get rid of our incompetent government.

rome: ancient rome or ancient greece?

oooh i think i’d go with ancient greece although i can speak some latin so i’d maybe fare better in rome.

copenhagen: how many languages can you speak?

5, to varying degrees, english and german are my best, russian is prob still my worst because i haven’t practised in forever.

dublin: where was the last castle you visited?

Old Sarum 

stockholm: angst or fluff?

Fluff babyyyy

lisbon: if you had the chance to become a prince/princess, would you?

Hmmm I don’t think so, although the British monarchy have so much monarchy, maybe just to do good with that money.

athens: favourite greek myth?

Off the top of my head, Eurydice and Orpheus.

milan: what matters more: fashion or comfort?

Comfortttt

munich: why did you kiss the last person you did?

I’d broken up with someone not long before and he kissed me and took me by surprise, it was very sweet.

helsinki: when did you last visit a friend’s house?

Start of October I think, we don’t have bubbles in Austria but we made one with him so he wouldn’t be on his own.

reykjavik: do people usually have trouble pronouncing your name when you first meet?

Nope, they often spell it wrong though

florence: how did you discover your favourite artist’s work?

I really like Allie Brosh’s comics and books, my sister introduced me to her.

edinburgh: would you visit a dog park without a dog?

Probably yeah

oslo: what’s more important: work or love?

Love

venice: why did you last fall in love?

He provided me support when I really really needed it and made me feel valued.

glasgow: where were you going during your latest bus journey?

To work

liverpool: do you follow any sports?

I follow league one of British football for AFC wimbledon. I follow tennis sometimes too.

cologne: why did you last visit your grandparents?

To give my mum a break from looking after grandma.

moscow: would you rather perform in a circus or an opera?

Oh hell, probably an opera.

naples: if you could visit anywhere in the world, where would you go and for how long?

Hmmm I’m gonna give a few answers - if there wasn’t the teeny problem of bigotry and safety I would love love love to go to Russia for like a month.

I also really want to go to Italy and Spain and the Scandinavian countries, so I’d like to do like a month or two of interrailing (which was my plan for March but obvs I can’t do that)

favourite

1 - season?

autumn

2 - classic film?

Men in black?? idk

3 - nostalgia-inducing possession?

my teddy bear - he’s called brownie and my sister got him for me when I was really little

4 - shade of green?

the dark bits of malachite

5 - gemstone?

amethyst

6 - hour of the night?

4-5am

7 - quote?

“The universe is seeming really huge right now. I need something to hold on to.” - We Were Liars (E. Lockhart)

8 - type of dream?

dreams about being in love

9 - happy song?

Candlelight - Relient K

10 - sad song?

Tobacco In My Sheets - Lauren Aquilina

11 - character from a book?

Ohh I really don’t know I’ll go with Andy Skampt from the Carls.

12 - creative medium?

Pen and paper for writing

13 - memory?

belly laughs around the table with my family 

14 - aspect of a person’s face?

smile or eyes

15 - decade before the 2020s?

2010s

16 - band?

Stornoway

17 - animated film/tv show?

moana

18 - constellation?

cassopeia

19 - poem?

A Thousand Mornings by Mary Oliver.

20 - album?

right now its Songs for the Drunk and Broken Hearted by Passenger

21 - ending in fictional media?

The ending to Crazy Ex Girlfriend.

22 - shade of blue?

maybe baby blue because its on the trans flag

23 - part of being alive?

love

24 - holiday?

last time I came to Vienna actually

25 - kind of candy?

flying saucers are a classic

26 - person you know?

I’m real homesick so my sister at the moment

27 - musical movie?

Rent

28 - superhero?

Spiderman

29 - book longer than 500 pages?

I think North Child is longer than 500 pages?

30 - book shorter than 300 pages?

We Were Liars

 marvel character asks

iron man: first superhero you ever liked?

spiderman

spiderman: do you believe in hometown pride?

not really 

black widow: would you rather be a secret agent for the heroes or the villains?

heroes

hulk: which approach to conflict do you prefer: analytical or physical?

analytical

thor: what’s your favourite kind of weather?

snow

captain america: how patriotic are you?

fuck not at all

black panther: what’s your favourite sci-fi movie?

the one i immediately thought of was I am Number Four.

ant-man: how tall are you?

something above 5′3″ but i genuinely don’t know

bucky barnes: do you have any hidden talents?

nope

captain marvel: on what topic do you and your parents most disagree?

how tidy my room should be kept

hawkeye: if you had to fight, what would be your weapon of choice?

something i can use at close quarters, maybe a knife

doctor strange: what’s an occurrence of everyday magic you’ve experienced?

Honestly some places and weather and animals are so magical

peter quill: is there anyone that underestimates you?

probably my flatmate

falcon: tell us your feelings on the armed forces.

oof that’s a rough one. My dad was in the army and definitely has ptsd from it. I don’t support the army at all but I do recognise that a lot of working class kids have few alternatives and are funnelled into that system.

gamora: if family and success were mutually exclusive, which would you choose?

family every time

nebula: do you believe a person can truly change?

yes

wanda: if you could have any superpower, what would you choose and why?

shapeshifting

deadpool: tell an offensive joke you feel bad for finding funny.

eh no thanks, i don’t really wanna put that energy out there rn

loki: greatest thing you’ve done on april fool’s day?

i mean probably something annoying to my sister when i was younger

venom: what non-mcu marvel character would you love to see in the mcu?

oh god i have no idea

nick fury: how do other people perceive you?

i hope as empathetic

thanos: do you believe in necessary sacrifices? give an example.

yes and no, not in terms of economy and shit, i don’t think people should ever be sacrificed for economic gain, but in terms of personal life i’ve sacrificed friendships to transition, and i’d do it again.

rocket: favourite non-domesticated animal?

tigerrrr

drax: would you rather fight with fists or knives?

fists

groot: how annoying were you five years ago?

i think i was growing out of my super annoying phase

#personal #personal post #personal posts #ask game #ask games #anons #answering questions

[caffeinated-mendes]

Failed Mission - Peter Parker & OC - Chapter 4

masterlist

previous work

previous chapter

synopsis:  Eliza Brooks, an eighteen-year-old Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and friend to Tony Stark is given a mission after Tony’s death: Attend Midtown Tech and keep an eye on Peter Parker. With the use of her mysterious powers, Eliza had never slipped up on her assignment. That is until Peter’s life is in danger, and she has to save him. The cost of her exposing her identity could very nearly mean the end of her mission, and the ending of her chance to become an Avenger.

word count: 2.4k

a/n:  Hi guys! It's been a little bit since I updated, but hopefully they'll get more frequent on this fic once summer comes. Thank you for reading! Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated <3

warnings: none

*if you prefer, you can read this on my ao3 instead of here

“Eli! I’m coming! Eliza?” Peter scrambled off the top of the cathedral, ignoring the shocked screams and gasps of the people sitting in the town square. He dropped himself next to the bench with the flashdrive on it, and snatched it up before someone came to collect it. Turning back around, he bolted into the cathedral. Everything was silent as he ran down the pews, no one in sight. “Eliza?” Peter looked down at his feet, and grasped the black and blue mask at his feet. Great, he thought, I’ve let Eliza get kidnapped, not only screwing up her chance at becoming a part of SHIELD, but I also have increased her chances of dying!

Peter took a deep breath, and ran back out of the cathedral, mask in hand as he webbed himself up unto a balcony. “Karen?” He asked, and suddenly a ring sounded through his ears.

A familiar, automated voice replied, “Yes, Peter?”

“Can you do a scan for any underground tunnels within a hundred-mile radius of this point?”

“Sure, Peter.” Peter watched before his eyes as his vision turned black, now illuminated with a visual blueprint of the town’s sewer system. The electric blue lines surrounded himself, a tiny dot on the map. “There is a hollowed out tunnel that is five miles from here that leads into a bigger cavern. The tunnel spans across the whole city, and an entrance is within thirty feet of you.”

“Where is it?” Peter turned his head, but his vision was still blocked from the map.

Karen responded, “Under that fountain. I’ve scanned the carvings in the marble. If you press the eye of the figure on the top, it should open and lead you to the entrance.”

“I knew it. Wait till I shove it in her face. It’s exactly like Harry Potter! Thanks, Karen.”

“Happy to help, Peter.” Peter’s vision turned back to normal. He vaulted himself over the balcony, and landed right next to the fountain. Every civilian had cleared out of the square after they saw Peter jump down and run into the cathedral, so he stepped into the water, soaking his clothed feet. He was suddenly very glad that his suit had warmers that could dry him up. Peter was met face to face with a lion, spewing water from the top of the fountain. 

Peter pushed his right eye, and it glowed an eerie shade of green before the entire column that held the lion folded in on itself, and fell into the middle of the fountain, revealing an enclosed tunnel with rungs of a ladder. The rungs led to the bottom of another space Peter couldn’t see. 

Stepping carefully down each rung, Peter made it to the bottom. He turned around, and saw an endless expanse of concrete tunnel, almost like a sewage pipe (minus the sewage). From what he saw on the map, he had to go straight for four miles. Then, he’d ask Karen to lead him down the winding path into the scary enemy lair. Sadly, the spidey suit didn’t have super speed, so he’d have to go at a light jog for a bit and take some breaks to make sure he could save Eliza and not be completely exhausted. Peter wished he could be like Eliza, and turn into a mountain lion, or some other animal that was fast.

Peter suspected Eliza wasn’t awake, because she would have escaped already and would’ve contacted Peter or SHIELD. It was easy to turn something small and run away, Peter knew that. The radio connection was cut off from Eliza because she left her mask behind, so he was entirely on his own. Taking a deep breath, Peter started to jog down the tunnel, leaving his mind to wander on its own.

At around a mile and a half in, Peter heard clunking noises from above himself. It must’ve been construction, still, it scared him. He’d tried to contact Happy while he was running, but the metal all around him had cut off his connection. Wheezing for breath, Peter stopped at two miles to walk for a bit. He couldn’t believe that Black Widow had trained Eliza. It made sense: her skill at self-defense and a ton of other martial arts Peter couldn’t name explained that. He’d seen her teacher on the battlefield, once in Germany and right before the blip. That was the last time he saw her, but it made Peter wonder, when was the last time Eliza saw her?

There were a lot of things about Eliza that Peter questioned. Where were her parents, if they were alive? How did Tony find her? Did SHIELD get Black Widow to train her? What were those scars on her neck? What happened to her parents, if they were dead? The questions never really stopped, but Peter somehow knew he could trust her. Maybe his trust meant nothing. Nevertheless, he couldn’t let her die.

After jogging some more, Peter asked Karen where to go next. “Take your first right, then walk for .4 miles.” Peter followed her directions, and was faced with another cement tunnel, with four openings on each side. “I detect a threat in the tunnel that leads the quickest way to the cavern. You can take another route, but it will reroute you, and you will have to walk another three miles.”

“Can you detect what the threat is, Karen?” Peter asked, hearing his voice quiver.

“A human, he is armed.” Peter saw an x-ray vision down the first tunnel on his left. He could see the gun the man was holding and his body heat on the thermal scanner. He seemed to be guarding the door to the cavern. Peter nodded, and turned left, going at a run. He followed the tunnel as it curved, and saw the man with the gun, who was caught off guard screaming in Portuguese. Peter tapped his web shooter, pulling the gun with his arm. It clattered to the ground. The guard ran at him, pulling a knife from his belt.

The LED lights above Peter flickered, and at the very last second, he jumped through the legs of the guard, catching him off guard again. Peter grinned to himself, feeling way more confident. Maybe he did have a chance at beating Eliza when they would spar, he thought as he dodged the jabs of the guard’s knife. 

He disarmed the guard with a simple kick to his arm, and he rammed his foot into the guard’s chest, watching the man hit the concrete hard. The guard’s eyes lolled to the back of his head, and his head fell back with a plunk on the concrete. Once Peter saw that his chest was rising, and he was breathing normally, he looked back to the door that led to the cavern. It was bolted into the cement across every inch of the doorframe, and it had a small device next to the rodded handle that looked like an entry for a passcode.

Peter walked back to the unconscious guard and checked his pockets for any slip of paper that had a code. Hopefully, the man had a bad memory. After scouring the front pockets, Peter grabbed at his back pockets and threw out a used tissue in disgust. Then, he realized the tissue wasn’t used, and that black ink was visible through the fabric. Peter plucked it off the ground, and almost jumping up and down in excitement, saw the six-digit code for the door. 

After every number was pressed, the door clicked, and Peter was able to swing it open with ease. The door led to another hollowed out tunnel that looked almost like a cave system. Peter was really starting to get tired of tunnels. He shook his head and exhaled, carefully stepping on the gravelly floor. Karen directed him down the tunnel for another five minutes when it finally began to open up. No one seemed to be close to him, as all he could hear were his feet shuffling on the ground. 

Peter neared the cavern, and from the tunnel, looked to see wisps of blonde hair on the ground. He ducked his head, and saw Eliza, her eyes closed and her arms sprawled about as if someone just dropped her and left her on the floor for later. Peter scrambled to her side, laying her head in his lap, checking her pulse. He pulled his mask off, his face hit with a musty smell. Eliza seemed to be unscathed, so Peter began shaking her. “Eli, Eli, wake up.” He lowered his voice as much as possible. After a few more shakes, Eliza’s eyelids fluttered open, and Peter got a feeling of deja vu as her pale blue eyes glowed again, an electric blue that paralyzed Peter the same way he had felt before. 

The glowing subsided, and Eliza moaned, “What happened?” She pushed herself off of Peter and sat up, looking pale.

“I don’t know. You were screaming for me but when I came into the cathedral you were gone.” Peter watched as she looked around the gray cavern. Oil lamps illuminated the humid area. “Your eyes glowed again.”

Eliza gulped, and tightened her ponytail. “Why does that keep happening?”

Peter shrugged, “You tell me,” He handed Eliza her mask, “Let’s see what we can find in this place. I have the flashdrive, but I want to look for more information.”

“Okay,” Eliza put on her mask, and Peter did the same, “Have your AI system scan your surroundings.”

“Her name’s Karen.” Peter felt a grin tug at his lips. He could almost see Eliza roll her eyes. 

“Fine, have Karen scan our surroundings. They’ve got to have a computer, files, something that gives us an idea of their plans.” Eliza spoke to her AI system, trying to call Happy.

Karen pulled up another scan, and Peter saw other shapes past the rocky walls, “It won’t work. I’ve got no signal down here. It’s the metal from the pipes.”

“Pipes?”

“Yeah, I had to run four miles of tunnel before I got here. And guess what? The entrance was in the fountain. Just like Harry Potter!” Peter laughed.

Eliza shook her head and snorted, “I guess you proved me wrong. Feels good, huh?” Peter walked closer to the wall, running his hands along the surface, looking for another secret door of sorts. “Hey, thank you.”

Peter turned back around at Eliza. “Yeah, of course. I couldn’t let you get hurt.” The two of them jumped as they heard a creak close by. Eliza disappeared from Peter’s sight, and Peter scream-whispered, “What do we do?”

“Hide!” Eliza scream-whispered back. Peter looked at his surroundings. There was absolutely nothing he could hide behind. The cavern was empty. Thinking quickly, Peter shot a web above his head, and pulled himself up, sticking every limb to the top of the cavern wall.

Peter held his breath. The same man that Peter and Eliza had seen from the town square came into the room. When he saw that Eliza was missing, he ran back through the entrance. The two of them could hear him howling orders in Portuguese to other people. He exhaled and took another breath after the man was gone for a minute or two.

He dropped down onto the floor, and Eliza reappeared. She whispered. “My AI found a room. It’s right below us, but we can’t walk out of here to get there.” 

“What do we do?” Peter said hoarsely. He had said that a lot today.

Eliza pulled something from her belt. Peter realized that it looked very similar to Natasha Romanoff’s. It was a ballpoint pen, but when Eliza uncapped it, a red laser burst out of it noiselessly. In less than twenty seconds, Eliza cut a hole through the floor of the cavern, and a crash of rock hit the tiled floor peering through the hole. “Let’s go.” Eli instructed, dropping through the opening. Peter followed her, and when he hit the ground, he instinctively dropped to a squat, his hand touching the floor. 

Bright lights blinded him for a second. Peter blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting. The room around them looked like a normal office. Desks were pushed to the walls with ancient-looking computers on them. The walls themselves were a beige color, cracks in each corner. Peter felt a tingle run down his spine as he saw dust and cobwebs coating the overhead lights. Eliza parked herself right in front of one of the computers, and groaned as Peter watched her realized there was a password on it. “Hand me the flashdrive and watch the door.” Peter did as he was told, and heard Eliza clacking away on the keyboard behind him.

“Did you, like, go to a hacking class at SHIELD along with training lessons?” Peter folded his arms, bouncing between his feet as he observed the chipped wood of the door.

Eliza’s eyes scanned back and forth on the monitor, “Kinda,” she began to open multiple files that looked like detailed floor plans, “I begged my parents to let me be an agent like them. They talked to Hill about it, and she taught me code while Nat taught me basically anything that had to do with fighting.”

Peter was surprised. He meant his question to be a joke. “Oh. So, you were basically an assassin from the age of…”

“Nine.” He saw Eliza huff out a breath, and with a tap of the finger, he watched as something began to upload onto the flashdrive. He guessed they would open everything later.

Peter wrung his hands together, “Right.” All of a sudden, screams burst out from above them, and Peter realized that it would be pretty obvious if there was a hole in the cavern floor. In a panicked voice, he said, “We gotta go.” 

Luckily, the computer finished uploading the files just as he said it. Eliza ripped the flashdrive out of the computer, pushing Peter to get him to open the door. “Uh huh,” She said, obviously worried as Peter pulled the creaky door open, “Run.”

#peter parker #spiderman #spider-man #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #mj and peter #mj #peter x mj #spideychelle #peter x michelle #peter parker oc #spiderman ffh #spiderman homecoming #avengers: endgame #avengers #marvel #tony stark #pepper potts #happy hogan #morgan stark #may parker #natasha romanoff #black widow #peter and morgan #tony x peter #caffeinated-mendes #eliza brooks #spiderman fanfiction #highschool! peter #midtown tech

[wndmxmffs]

Sleepover

Pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Warning: basically none

Summary: the reader has a huge crush on Natasha but she’s not entirely sure about the redhead’s feelings, so she’s been trying to keep it a secret which might not work out in the end... I used prompt 29. Shut up and kiss me.

A/N: this is for #Emma’swritingchallenge (@retrobhaddie)! thank you for the chance bby, hope you’ll like it <3 

It all started with the first glance you took at her. She was there to welcome you when you first entered the compound, when you officially became an Avenger. You, of course, had already heard a lot about the mysterious redhead called Black Widow as she was one of the most important members of the famous Avengers who had already saved millions of lives several times. You had seen pictures and drawings of her but none of them showed her actual beauty, the one you saw in front of you when you first met. It wasn’t love at first sight, but you definitely did develop a tiny crush on her which had just grown and grown throughout the years you’d spent together fighting the evil and lingering around in the compound. You soon found yourself fantasizing about having Natasha as your girlfriend and that was the moment when you realised you were actually in love with her. You had always tried your absolute best to keep your feelings from ruining something so amazing as your friendship with Natasha because you had always felt like your feelings would never be mutual. A woman like her would never love someone like you, right? Well, wrong. The truth was and had always been, that Natasha did feel the same about you but she was one of the worst when it came to feelings, so she usually just bottled them up and hid them from you, afraid that you wouldn’t reciprocate her feelings which would lead to the end of your friendship and Natasha would be hurt just again. She thought it was better this way, so she continued suffering silently, just like you, until one day, she asked you if you were down for a sleepover in her room: staying up until the birds start chirping while watching anything that popped up on Netflix and stuffing your faces with all the junk food you could find around the compound. This was something you both needed, since the last mission was real hell and you had to let go of all the stress and anxiety inside. So, you said yes with a heart racing as fast as a sports car at maximum speed and you had to escape to your room not to pass out right on the spot.

So, the day was here and you were trying your best to keep your hands from shaking while you were changing into your pyjamas, taking more time than any human being should during this process. Finally, you were all ready and closed the door of your room before you headed to Natasha’s. She told you not to worry about the snacks, because she would make sure you had enough, but you still brought some popcorn you had put in the microwave earlier as you didn’t want to attend this ‘sleepover’ with empty hands. Natasha was sitting on the edge of her bed, searching for something at least slightly interesting on Netflix to watch when you entered her room. She gave you a lovely smile before turning back to the TV, complaining about how many stupid rom-coms were in her recommendations while you tried not to stare at her gorgeous body for too long.

“You know, it’s not a coincidence that those movies show up…”, you commented, making Natasha get all defensive because she was afraid her ‘bad bitch’ image would crush into pieces in front of her crush.

“Hey! It happened once, okay? And it’s because of Wanda, she told me it’s not like the others! I normally wouldn’t watch any of this garbage.”

You just smiled to yourself, chewing on a piece of popcorn before replying.

“Okay, sorry-sorry, Miss I’m-Way-Too-Badass-For-Rom-Coms”, you said, putting your hands up in defence, smirking at the redhead who just rolled her eyes at you and continued searching for a movie to watch. You were slowly chewing on some popcorn, looking at the never-ending list of films while offering some of the snack to Natasha who just shook her head but told you to feel yourself at home and eat as much of the snacks she found as you’d like.

“They’re mostly Tony’s anyway”, she said, followed by a cocky grin which made you laugh and shake your head in fake disappointment.

“Wow, so you’re a thief now. I have to say, I was expecting better from you, Miss.”

Natasha just chuckled before happily turning to you, announcing she’d found something you’d both enjoy. You both climbed onto the bed, opening all the snacks and started watching the movie after everything was settled. You shared a blanket with Natasha which made the butterflies in your stomach come alive once again, even more because of how close she was to you. You found yourself totally forgetting about the storyline of the film, so you’d lost track almost halfway through when Natasha turned to you and raised her eyebrows. You could feel how flattered you were turning within seconds, so you cleared your throat while looking down at the now empty bowl of popcorn you were holding in your hands. Natasha just smiled to herself before turning back to the TV screen and pointing at the protagonist while chewing on some jellybeans.

“She’s kinda hot, you know…”, she stated, waiting for your jealous reply and once she got it, she knew the game was on. She did feel somewhat guilty for playing with you, but she had a slight suspicion regarding your feelings and she needed to make sure.

You simply furrowed your eyebrows in your confusion and embarrassment, looking at the blonde girl on the screen, slowly getting jealous.

“Umm, I mean… yeah. I mean, she looks lovely but… She’s not really my type, to be honest…”, you muttered, making Natasha smirk even harder and encouraging her to continue.

“Oh, truly? And what is your type?”, she asked, blinking at you totally innocently but it freaked you out more than anything ever had. You were glad you weren’t eating anything right then, because you were sure you would’ve choked on it.

You replied while trying to calm yourself down and trying not to think anything into this simple question. After all, Natasha might have been just trying to get a conversation started without any further intentions. Although, as you were thinking, trying to ignore your racing thoughts, you came across one which was clearly not as strong as all the panicky ones, but gave you some kind of hope. What if she was asking because she was into you? Maybe it was time to actually get your shit together and finally confess. After all, it was almost the finish line and there was basically nothing to lose now. So, you decided to join her little game.

“Well, you know, I’m not really into blondes… I prefer redheads”, you said with your sassiest grin on your face, looking at Natasha from underneath your eyelashes. You saw her smirk vanish and it made you feel incredibly proud of yourself. You put two jellybeans in your mouth while keeping up the eye-contact with Natasha, asking her if she had a specific type. She flashed a fake smile at you, knowing full well that her little game just turned the other way and she was the target now.

“Oh well, you know… I like the kind of eyes you can get lost in. But there is one specific colour that I truly love.”

You looked deep into her eyes, suddenly becoming all serious when you felt your stomach lifting up and down. You truly had to have perfect control right then, otherwise you would’ve been fucked.

“Truly? And what is it?”, you asked all casually, not caring about your anxiety getting more and more intense.

Natasha simply smiled at you before replying, taking a sip of her diet coke. Both of you had forgotten about the movie you were watching but neither of you actually cared.

“Yours.”

This one simple word was all it took to make your eyes widen and your jaw drop to the ground. You saw Natasha’s proud smirk and it made your heart beat even faster than earlier. You honestly couldn’t believe that Natasha, the woman you’d been in love with for ages basically just confessed her feelings for you.

You cleared your throat before trying to gather your thoughts and form them into words. Natasha was watching you, clearly enjoying how flattered you were just again before grabbing the remote control and turning off the volume on the television.

“What do you mean mine? Like… Are you trying to tell me you like me? Because… I really like you. Like really really like you. And I only like one redhead and that would be you. But I’m sorry if that’s not what you actually meant and I’m making everything awkward and ruin our friendship. You can tell me if –“

But you couldn’t finish, because Natasha cut you off while rolling her beautiful eyes.

“Oh my Lord. Just shut up and kiss me.”

You looked at her like you suddenly couldn’t understand English and it took you some long seconds before you could actually open your mouth. But Natasha didn’t let you speak; she simply leaned in, cupped your cheeks and placed a sweet peck on your lips. You didn’t know if it was because Natasha was the one who kissed you this time, or you just simply couldn’t remember your earlier kisses, but this moment felt magical and you felt better than ever before. Natasha’s lips were smooth and sweet because of the chocolate she ate a few minutes before, and the feeling of her skin against yours made your whole body all weak and shaky. When you pulled away and she smiled at you, you couldn’t help but lower your eyes with a muffled chuckle, your fingers gently wrapped around Natasha’s wrist.

“Yes, Y/N, I do like you. Like really really like you”, she whispered before leaning in for another kiss which got longer and more passionate than the first one. At this moment, you could swear you were the happiest person alive.

Please, leave your feedback in my comment section or my inbox. It would mean the world to me. Thank you!

#Emma'swritingchallenge #writing challenge #i participated in something! #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff blurb #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff one-shot #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow fluff #black widow blurb #black widow imagine #black widow one-shot

[songficsbyrissi]

Jealous (T’Challa x Reader) *alternate version*

A/N: I bet y’all thinking “Rissi, didn’t you already do a “Jealous” one shot? Girl what the fuck is you doing?” And to answer your thoughts, yes you’re right. I did do one with T’Challa being jealous (btw click here if you haven’t read it or you wanna reread before you read this) Anyways, I got to thinking. What if I wrote an alternate version where the READER gets jealous and how that would go down? Well let’s find out....btw I created my own avenger for this oneshot. Think of Nina as a hero like Black Widow but she’s not Black Widow. Make sure to click the bold word to see how she looks like ;)

************** “Who the hell is that?” You thought angrily. Your blazing eyes narrowed as you glared at that bitch that was holding a conversation with YOUR HUSBAND. She was getting flirtatious and it annoyed you. You were so invested in the scene before you it took the third try for your sister in law to finally get your attention. “Y/N?” You snapped out of it and gave her a fake smile. “Oh hello Shuri! What is the matter?” “I should be asking you that. You seem really upset seeing T’Challa converse with that Avenger. Do you not like Nina?” You didn’t hear her question over the grinding of your teeth. Shuri giggled into her hands. “Oh I get it! You don’t like her because you are jealous!” “I AM NOT JEALOUS OF THAT COLONIZER!” You roared staring at your sister in law with fire in your eyes and turned back to the sight of your husband and the avenger. You weren’t jealous. You just didn’t appreciate this white woman hogging your husband from his other guests and getting too touchy with him. You wanted to smack him for not noticing her advances but you remembered your poor husband is slow sometimes.

You walked up next to your husband and he immediately wrapped his arm around your waist which made you beam in content. You resisted giving her the “Suck it bitch. This is my man” face. “This is my wife, Queen Y/N.” “Oh so it is nice to meet you, my queen!” She took your hand, shaking it vigorously. “Your King is so wonderful. You have a nice taste in men, I see!” “Oh stop it.” T’Challa told her sheepishly and she kept looking him taking a sip of her wine. “King T’Challa, I’m just letting the queen know how lucky she is!” “I’m not lucky, Miss. I am blessed. Now if you would excuse us.” You took your husband’s firm hand leading him away from the woman. Tony Stark needed to speak with him so you let him go but continued to keep an eye on that Nina girl. You didn’t like her and you didn’t know why. “Tonight was fun, wasn’t it, my love?” T’Challa walked in the bedroom, fresh from his shower. On any normal occasion, you would’ve taken that shower with him but for some reason, you didn’t want him anywhere near you. You were beyond irritated with him for some reason, so you said nothing as you were removing your jewelry. “Baby?” “Yes?” You replied sharply. T’Challa came up behind you as you kept staring at your reflection in the mirror of your vanity. “Are you all right?” He questioned skeptically. “Yes I am fine, T’Challa.” He groaned dramatically, falling onto the bed. “Oh Bast, you called me by my real name! You are upset. What did I do?” You wanted to smile at his antics but you couldn’t. “Nothing.” “I thought we agree not to lie to each other.” T’Challa scolded turning you around to face him. “Come on. Tell me. I refuse to go to bed with a woman who’s upset with me because that is dangerous.” You sighed deeply trying to figure out a way to tell him how you feel without it coming out wrong. “I’m just not sure about you going on this mission with the avengers. I don’t trust them, especially that Nina. She just seems so....unprofessional and does not take her job seriously. I don’t trust her around you.” Your eyes widened at the last sentence so you corrected your self. “I don’t trust her around you to have your back in combat. I fear something will happen to you because she isn’t doing her job.” T’Challa seemed to buy it. “I know you are worried about me but I will be fine. I always come out fine. You trusting everyone else does not matter. As long you trust me on that, everything will be fine.” He kisses your forehead and you smiled in response. “Ok, my love. I trust you.” But you still didn’t trust that white bitch Nina and you were still going to watch her ass. “Ehhh T seems like the type to like snow bunnies.” Erik commented as you, him, and Shuri watched the avengers sparring. Of course your husband was paired up with the white girl which made your annoyance rise, along with Erik’s unwarranted commentary. Those two were getting awfully close and you couldn’t stand to watch. You walked away from the scene with the two following behind. Shuri rolled her eyes at her cousin. “Will you shut up? T’Challa has no interest in Nina. Stop trying to annoy Y/N.” “I’m just saying! Niggas back in America, they love white bitches! Some prefer them over black women. Mind you, there’s white women EVERYWHERE over there. Here, there’s none of that! She’s exotic to the men over here.” You hated to admit it but Erik was making sense. You didn’t want to believe he was right but a part of you was believing it. Once you three reached the gardens, Shuri turned to you. “Please don’t listen to him, sister. My brother loves you with all his heart. Now I have to return to the lab.” Shuri pulled you into a goodbye hug and went on her way. You gave her a small smile before she left. “You want my advice?” “No! I do not want your advice!” You snapped, hoping it’ll make Erik and the urge to listen to him go away. Erik held his hands in defense and backed away. “I was just trying to help but what do I know? I’m just a black man just like your husband and share the same blood as your husband so I wouldn’t know shit about how to handle this. Good luck, Y/N.” He began to walk away from you and you were wrestling with what your brain was urging you to do. He was annoying but convincing. What he saying is stupid, right? Unbelievable! It’s dumb! Completely dumb! “Wait!” You found yourself yelling after Erik and he turned around, failing to hide the smug look on his face. You sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose. “What do you have in mind?” Erik rubbed his hands together. “Aight so all you gotta do is get ghetto on ‘em.” Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Ghetto? I’m not familiar with this term.” Erik smiled wickedly wrapping his arm around you. “Oh you will be.”

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

The next day, you tried to push Erik’s lesson in “ghetto” of your head. It was stupid and you were a queen, for bast’s sake! You couldn’t act the way Erik was telling you to act. It was completely preposterous. You were being ridiculous. You just needed to find your husband, spend time with him, and forget your foolish thoughts. When you made it to the training grounds, you didn’t find your husband or the rest of the avengers. You only found Nina on a phone call and you turned on your heel to find your man when your ears perked up at the mention of T’Challa and you hid behind a boulder. “You know I actually wouldn’t mind getting with King T’Challa though. He’s rich and black. That’s the jackpot right there. I wish his wife would just disappear and I would successfully snatch him up. Let’s just see how far I can get with her around.” Your blood got hot overhearing her words. So you were fucking right. This bitch was after your man and tried to make you look crazy. Now it’s time to take Erik’s advice. Get ghetto and whoop her ass. You popped from your hiding space and approached her quickly. She turned to you with a big fake smile on her pasty face. “My queen-“ “Nah! Nah! Save that fake shit, sis!” You shouted clapping your hands like Erik taught you to do. “Who the...uh... fuck do you think I am?! You got me fucked up!” You bent down turning your head with every word. She was stunned at your actions and completely speechless. “Your highness-“ “You got me....FUCKED....UP! BOO BOO! You aint messing with my man....BITCH! Now....” you went to remove your hoops like Erik told you to do but you weren’t wearing hoops so that was dumb as hell. You went to tie your hair in a ponytail but you already had it in a ponytail. Damn, you need to get it together. “Now I’M GONNA FUCK YOU UP, YOU COTTAGE CHEESE BITCH! BEAT THAT PRIVILEGE OUT OF YOUR CRACKER ASS!” You lunged at her tackling her to the ground and landing punches on her face. Oh yeah, you gotta say “bitch” every time you connect. “BITCH! BITCH! BITCH!” No surprise that the avenger managed to roll you over, getting on top and began choking you while banging your head. You two rolled over, kicking and scratching at each other until you felt yourself pulled away from her and she was being pulled away by a Dora. You were so focused on your anger you weren’t paying attention to who was pulling you back. “You ain’t snatching shit up, bitch! He’s my man, hoe!” You shouted as she got escorted to Wakanda prison and you pushed yourself off the person. You turned to see it was your husband. He was shooting daggers at you and you gulped nervously. “Have you lost your mind Y/N?!??!! What were you doing fighting her?!??!” He was pissed. “We were.....training?” You meant to say it as an answer but it came out as a question. T’Challa was still glaring at you so clearly your lie didn’t work. “I can’t even look at you right now.” T’Challa stormed off and you bowed your head in shame. Now that you looked back at it, it was one of the most idiotic things you’ve ever done. You’re a queen, for Bast’s sake! Queens don’t fight, especially out of jealousy. You retired to your chambers, thankful that the only people who witnessed the incident were the Dora’s. It felt like hours had passed before your husband finally made his way in your shared bedroom. You could see that the time apart gave him some time to cool down because he didn’t look angry anymore. He was more calm. You waited for him to speak first. “Why would you fight Nina? Did she insult you? Did she hit you? That is what we have the Dora’s for!” You resisted rolling your eyes and sighed instead. “No and T’Challa, I used to be a War Dog-“ He cut you off. “Yes I know that. I am reminded that multiple times. The key phrase is “used to”. You are no longer one anymore. You are a queen now. So why? Why were you fighting her?” “I overheard her saying she wanted to snatch you up because you were rich and black and I was just annoyed, really. Because she was getting so close to you and I just knew that colonizer whore wanted you. Once I heard her words......” You shrugged your shoulders sighing once again. “I just lost it.” “So.....you were jealous?” T’Challa questioned with some humor in his tone. Your eyes fell on his face and you saw his mouth was twitching in amusement. You cocked your head to the side. “T’Challa Udaku, are you amused by this?” He let a chuckle shaking his head as he took a seat next to you. “I am, just a little. I’m still mad but you being jealous makes me laugh. How are you jealous of Nina?” “She was getting so close to you and she’s a American white woman. Those women are exotic to men of this country. I don’t see why but they are. Erik was telling me he sees black men love white women back in America and prefer them and......I was never jealous of her. I just feared you would fall for her.” You confessed, feeling a weight off your chest and T’Challa placed his hands over yours staring in your eyes. “That is ridiculous, my love. I have no interest in white women. Never did and never will. I love my beautiful Wakandan queen.” He pecked your lips causing you to smile wide and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I was actually surprised you got jealous over me. I should be jealous over you. People keep telling me you are out of my league.” “Are “people” your sister and your cousin?” “For the most part.” You giggles which caused him to break into a little smile. “But other people think it too. Bast has blessed me with you.” You took his face in your hands and kissed him passionately. “Bast has blessed me with you, my handsome king and I would like to show you how thankful I am for my blessing.” You climbed on top of your husband, ready to get it on when he slightly pushed you off. “I really want to, sithandwa sam. But I have a combat meeting with the avengers.....which includes Nina.” You sighed dramatically. “I guess I should go apologize. Even though she deserved it.” T’Challa chuckled, sitting up and placing tender kisses on your neck. “Yes but the sooner it happens, the sooner I get you to myself.” You smirked seductively and exited your chambers holding hands with your husband. As you two walked the corridors, you ran into Erik and your content demeanor dropped. “Aww look at y’all. In love and cupcaking and shit! Hey Y/N! I heard you beat the white privilege out of shorty!” Erik cackled into his fist, jumping up and down in joy. “See? My advice works!” You stared at Erik with so much anger, clenching your fists tightly. T’Challa glanced at your expression and stepped back. “N’Jadaka.....stop talking. You upset her with your advice.” “Upset her??? That was solid advice!” “No it was not! It was stupid!” T’Challa hissed. “Now just apologize before she gives you what she gave Nina.” Erik let out an obnoxious laugh. “Nigga you think I’m scared of your little wife? Nigga, I’m the Golden Jaguar! I ain’t bitch made like the Black Panther! She can run up but she ain’t doing shi-“ He was interrupted from his shit talking by you tackling him to the ground and used one hand to choke him and the other to punch his face. His attempts to get up were unsuccessful. He underestimated your strength greatly. “T...help!” Erik managed to choke out through your attack. T’Challa shook his head, clicking his tongue. “I told you to just apologize, N’Jadaka. But I will help....my wife.” T’Challa went to join in and a few seconds later, Shuri appeared with her mother and they gazed at the scene in shock. Shuri began to giggle in excitement. “Yes! We are finally beating up Erik?!” She wiped a fake tear from her eye. “Dreams really do come true! Ahhh!” “Shuri, get out of there! T’Challa and Y/N, stop it! This is not right!” Ramonda reprimanded as she stood watching her son, her daughter and her daughter in law all attack her poor, annoying nephew. The Dora’s appeared almost immediately. “Queen Mother, shall we break this up?” Okoye questioned as she gestured towards the sight of T’Challa having Erik in a full Nelson on the ground, you delivering blows to his body, and Shuri kicking him in glee. Ramonda sighed shaking her head. “Just give them another 30 seconds....maybe a minute then break it up, please.”

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#T'Challa #T'Challa Udaku #t'challa fanfiction #t'challa fic #t'challa x you #black panther #black panther fanfiction #black panther fic #black panther x reader #T'Challa x black reader #black panther imagine #black panther fanfic #t'challa fanfic #t'challa fluff

[keishiko]

refuge (part two)

Black Widow joins the man formerly known as Captain America on his next mission after the events of “Civil War”.  

(”Endgame”?  What “Endgame”? *whistles innocently*)

[Part 2/2(?) ~1,500 words  |  Rated PG-13  |  Angst, Romance (Natasha x Steve)  |  Part 1 here  |  Optional companion piece “Into Infinity” here]

Blond hair suited her, he decided.  Checking on his equipment, he watched her out the corner of his eye as she languorously cleaned her guns, picking up each part from its place in the lineup in front of her and carefully brushing it out or wiping it down.  They had made good time from the drop-off point and the setting sun was just now slanting in through the windows of the small hunting lodge, last rays gleaming in Natasha’s pale curls. He’d had a few mornings now to admire the glow of sunlight in her hair, but he didn’t expect to tire of it anytime soon. “Spit it out or zip it, Cap,” she drawled, not even looking up from the barrel she was oiling.  “We’re a little early, but even I don’t have enough time to squeeze it out of you.” He nearly choked at the vivid mental image her words immediately called up, intentionally or otherwise.  His photographic memory was a curse sometimes.  She gave him her usual sly grin, not even looking at her gun as she reassembled it with precise, efficient movements.   “That’s a little below the belt, don’t you think?” he muttered, stepping into his drysuit and trying not to look too pleased with himself when she laughed out loud. “No, Cap, that’s below the belt.  For you, anyway.”  She holstered the gun and sauntered over, eyes sparkling.  “Need any help with that?” Any response he might possibly have made was strangled in his throat as she grasped the zipper tab on his drysuit and slowly, slowly pulled it up his body, slender fingers skating knowingly across the thin material underneath, the sun glinting gold in eyes never leaving his.  His senses sang with the rising whir of the zip and he quickly stilled her hand with his, but not before she felt the shudder of want that coursed through him. “Nat,” he began. “Steve,” she breathed, watching him, waiting. He kissed her.  He could do this all day, he mused, before reluctantly pulling back from her soft lips.  He cradled her face in his hand, marveled at the smoothness of her skin and the delicate jut of her cheek against his palm. “I’m sorry,” he managed after a moment. She chuckled, lowered her eyes.  “Congratulations, you lasted longer than I thought you would.” She might as well have slapped him.  “I’m sorry. I mean...”  For all he was supposedly pretty good at impromptu speeches, he felt like a tongue-tied twenty-year-old again all of a sudden.  He sighed and closed his eyes to steady himself, tried not to think about the warm, lithe body so close to his.  How familiar that body had become, how recently.  “This isn’t how I would’ve wanted this to happen.  I don’t want to... just use you.”  Gathering her close, he allowed himself a kiss on the top of her head.   “You’re so much more than that.”  To me. He felt her smile against his chest.  “Don’t feel too bad about it, Rogers.”  She shrugged.  “Everybody needs a little skin-to-skin once in a while.” Her tone wasn’t nearly as breezy as she might have intended, but it still stung.  “So is that all this is to you?  Body warmth?”  His own tone came out rougher than he’d wanted it to, as raw as he felt.  “Tell me, Natasha, who else have you made fall for you just because you gave them ‘a little skin-to-skin’?” He regretted the words as soon as he said them.  He would have let her slap him, would have let her knock him down and beat him to kingdom come if she wanted.  Instead he looked into her eyes, huge with surprise, luminous with hurt, and he would have vastly preferred the beating. “I’m sorry, Nat, that came out all wrong—” She said nothing, merely stepped around him and stalked out of the lodge.  As the door shut behind her he stood for a moment, irresolute.  Then he sighed, shaking his head at himself, and followed outside. The lodge huddled in a copse at the top of a thickly wooded slope, a little-used shelter for when some wealthy associate or other of Natasha’s went hunting once in a while.  Nat had used her network, called in a favor or two; she’d taken days when he’d expected to have to wait weeks.  It took him a minute now to find her slim figure hidden among the ancient trees, mere steps from where the land dropped steeply and invisibly away to the rocky coastline hundreds of feet below.   He moved to stand beside her as she stared out at the gray horizon, where fast-roiling clouds met the glassy sea. He steeled himself to try again.   “You know, you can still go back, turn yourself in.  Make a deal.  They’ll do that for you.”  He hoped she’d accept the unspoken apology in his voice.  “This isn’t fair to you.  The others will understand.  I’ve already asked too much of you.”  And taken even more, he thought with a pang. “Wanna get rid of me that bad, huh Rogers?” She arched an eyebrow at him, flashed a gamine smile, and he found himself at a loss.  For several nights now he had slept holding her close, his face in her hair, her scent and her warmth enfolding him, and now he hesitated even to stand too close, or something he couldn’t quite name would shatter between them beyond repair.   The wind eddied past them, heavy with the sea. “Some years ago I was on assignment in Sevastopol.”  He almost didn’t hear her, her voice was so soft and far away and drifted in the damp air.  “There’s a beautiful place near there, a lot like this one.  Cliffs, and the sky, and the sea.  Just a couple of steps and it was straight on down to the rocks in the water.  There was no way they could’ve stopped me.  And I was pretty sure the mission was worth failing.” He found he was holding his breath, just staring at her and her hollow half smile.  Even the ache in his chest came second to hearing her every word, the sadness in her voice.   “Not long after that Clint came to me in Moldova and the rest, as they say, is history.”  She raised limpid eyes to him, green as the waves in the distance.  “You think I don’t know a hard life, Steve?  A life on the run?  I don’t need Tony’s money or SHIELD’s gadgets or even some fancy secret base.  I’ve thrown away plenty more than that in my time.”  A bitter smile curved her mouth.  He realized belatedly that he had taken her hand in his.  She didn’t pull away.  “What I need...”  She caught herself, looked away. “What?” he prompted when she kept silent.  He had stepped closer to her before he knew it, savored a kiss, two kisses, across her knuckles, pressed the back of her small and slender hand to his face.  “Tell me what you need.”  And I’ll move heaven and earth for you to get it.  “Please.” She’d turned to watch him, stricken.  As the seconds ticked by he felt apprehension, regret, begin to coil inside him despite himself. “Just—”  She looked away again, but not before he saw her eyes start to brim.  He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it cost her to be so honest with him.  Seemingly bracing herself, she looked back up at him at last, her gaze no less intense for the tear creeping down her cheek.  “Just don’t let me down.” He couldn’t help smiling.  The way you don’t let anybody down.  To anyone else it might have seemed such a small thing to ask, might even have seemed laughable, but he wouldn’t underestimate what it took for her even just to say it out loud.  The way you give everything of yourself without a second thought.  “I’ll do my best.”  It’s the least I can do.  He kissed her open palm. She smiled back, eyes still shining as he cradled her hand against his cheek.  Her button nose was starting to turn red.  He might never let on, but he found it adorable.  “You damn well better, soldier.” He held her then, a distant part of him fascinated by how he seemed to close over her, her slender body so full of power, so taut with strength, but letting him surround her anyway.  Her words echoed in his thoughts, reminded him of something else someone had told him once.   “I’m with you to the end of the line, pal.” “’Cause even you’re going to need help storming that castle,” she added in his ear. He laughed, and so did she.  She met his kiss passionately.  He very nearly lost track of the evening deepening around them. “It’s time,” she whispered, too soon.   He broke the kiss with a sigh, settled for the sweet, silent press of his forehead to hers.  She squeezed his hand wordlessly. As they turned and headed back to the lodge, she leaned almost imperceptibly into the hand he placed low on her back.  He relished what would be his last memory of her warmth for a while. For now, it was time to suit up. to be continued?? . [Thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this one!  Sorry it took a while. These two are intoxicating.💞

Also I did realize that, in the movie, the Raft prison break is shown before Bucky goes under in Wakanda. But by then I’d already published Part One 😅]

#romanogers #captain america civil war #captain america #steve x natasha #steve x nat #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #black widow #fluff #fanfic #capwidow

[theasgardianbuckylaufeyson]

Marvel Preferences~ Your First Meeting

Tony Stark: This was the first business meeting Toni has been to in a while but it was the only one that he actually gives a shit about. This deal was to merge his company with a well known home technology corporation. All he could focus in as her walked into the board room was how much safer this would make everyone and how much easier it would make his job protecting said people. Only those thoughts are wiped completely from his mind when he seen you sitting in the chair opposite his. You on the other hand seemed rather unimpressed by the arrival of your soon to be business partner. On the outside you held a stone expression having already read up what you needed to know about the billionaire genius, but on the inside you were internally screaming. No amount of informant sheets could prepare you for how handsome the man before you looked.

After clearing his throat he steps forward and offers you his hand, “You must be Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Oh please, call me Y/N. And you must be Mr. Stark,” you replay as you rise from your seat and slip your hand in his expecting him to offer you a handshake.

Instead he turns your hand up right and places a kiss on the top before responding, “Please, call me Tony Mr. Stark was my father.”

Steve Rogers: It was nice for as early as it was in New York that morning but no one was going to complain, especially not you. Deciding to take advantage of the weather as much as you could even though you had to work that day you leashed up your dog and walked towards the park near your house. It was typically pretty quiet so you knew it would be the perfect spot. Steve had the same idea when his alarm woke him up and he soon discovered the weather. Quickly slipping on his running clothes and shoes he heads outside and to the one place he thinks is truly peaceful. He knew not many people came here at this time of day because he always ran there so he wasn’t paying attention to your dog running straight towards him in route for the stick that had landed a few feet away. Y/D/N crashed right into his legs causing him to topple to the ground with a huff.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry about that. I wasn’t paying attention when I threw the stick, I figured people normally weren’t here this early in the morning,” you exclaim while helping him stand back on his feet.

“It’s not a problem ma’am, I’m sure this little guy didn’t mean it anyway,” Steve replies petting your dogs head as he does so.

Bucky Barnes: The one time Steve convinced Bucky to visit the Captain America exhibit in the Smithsonian you were there intently studying the section dedicated to Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. The two men watched you from afar at first, studying your every movement but attempting not to seem like creeps at the same time. After a few minutes more of staring Bucky couldn’t take it anymore and gave into his curiosity before he could stop himself. Walking right up to you he tried to muster up as much of his old courage and charm that he could before asking, “What ya doing there doll?”

Startled you slam your notebook to your chest and nervously shift your eyes anywhere but to the man beside you, “Im uh. I’m taking down some notes for a report I’m writing for my blog.”

“And what could there be to report on a dead guy?” the man questions with a snort.”

“A lot more than you think,” you retort before mumbling under your breath, “Especially when he's not dead you idiot.”

The comment was so quiet a normal person wouldn’t have heard it, but Bucky did and he stiffened instantly. If you knew he was alive that meant you knew he was the winter soldier. It also meant that you could possibly recognized him if you looked at him. After a moment of silence he decided he didn’t want to take the chance and bolted to where Steve stood in front of the video of Peggy. As he dragged a confused and dazed Steve out of the building he left an equally confused you behind.

Thor Odinson: You were friends with Pepper as well as both the female Avengers so naturally you were invited to all of Toni’s parties. And every time you said yes, no matter if you wanted to go or not because there was nothing like a Stark party. Tonight was one of those nights. You were wrapped in you Y/F/C dress all dolled up and leaning against the side of the bar, but you wished at that very moment you were anywhere else. While you were drowning in your own thoughts and wine coolers you didn’t notice the god admiring your from where he stood with Steve across the room. After another cup of Asgardian alcohol and some more encouragement from Steve, Thor finally makes his way over to where you are perched.

Offering you a warm smile he begins to speak, “Hello my lady, I am Thor the God of Thunder.”

“Hello Thor, I am Y/N,” you reply with a giggle as you take in the features of the god before you.

Clint Barton: Today was the first day of Avengers training. Before this you were just a typical assassin until SHIELD realized you were more than human. Your parents were fallen agents of HYDRA and injected you with the super soldier serum at a young age hoping it would turn you into one of their greatest assets. Instead their plans backfired and they created their greatest enemy. When you were old enough to leave you did and from that day on you were always with SHIELD. That was how you ended up in the Avengers training room now with both Black Widow and Captain America flanking you on either side ready for you to show them what you got. First Natasha approached you, but you’ve been doing this so much that you predicted her moves before she even took her first step and easily had her on the mat. Steve took a bot more force to take down, but using the momentum you had from Natasha you took him down just as fast leaving face to face with a man in the doorway of the room.

He began to clap slowly as he approached you, “I was coming to see if Nat wanted to train, but it looks like she has her hands full..I’m Clint.”

“I’m Y/N.”

Sam Wilson: You worked as a volunteer for numerous support groups and other veteran situations so when you got a call from a friend today asking you to fill in for her you didn’t really think twice about saying yes. Instead you got dressed and raced over to the building the session was being held in as fast as you could to help whoever she was supposed to work with that day. When you arrived you were greeted by a man’s back as he set up pamphlets by the door, oblivious to your arrival as it appeared.

Stepping forward you clear your throat and speak up, “Uh hi, Y/F/N couldn’t make it today so she asked me to fill in for her. I’m sorry I’m late, but this one last minute so I tried to get over as fast as I could.”

It is then that the man turns around with a smile present on his face, “That’s not a problem, I would've done the session alone if i had to.”

With a nod of understanding you offer him your hand, “Im Y/N Y/L/N.” “Sam Wilson,” he replies shaking your hand

Loki Laufeyson: You had been trapped in the dungeons of Asgard fora crime you didn’t do for longer than you could remember. There was word spread that your were a dark elf working for to turn on Odin and overthrown the throne. The only reason they didn’t execute you was because not all of their story checked out, Instead they locked you away until they knew they truth, the only issue was they weren’t trying to find any other leads leaving you down here to rot. Until one night when you’re nearly asleep on your cot you hear someone being thrown into the cell beside yours. Sitting up in shock you look over to see the one and only Prince of Asgard, Loki, being tossed into the cell angry and screaming. Though the guards didn’t acknowledge his tantrum you were staring intently at the man since he had grown into a handsome prince since you last saw him. When he realized you were staring though he instantly put an illusion up causing you to return to your attempted sleep.

Peter Parker: Today you started at one of the est school’s New York could offer and to say you were nervous would be an understatement. Even though you excelled at you old school, everyone who went here excelled at something or everything. As you walked the halls trying to find your first class you weren’t paying attention to what was in front of you and plowed right into a girl walking down the halls in the opposite direction.

“I am so sorry. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going instead of the school map,” you say quickly while trying to pick up your things.

“It’s cool. You must be the new girl, I’m Mj,” the girl replies brushing herself off.

“Yeah that’s me,” you sigh before studying your map again.

“What class do you have?”

“Uh, english.”

“Oh, that’s on the way to my class. I could show you if you want,” Mj offers kindly motioning to the way she was previously going.

“Really that’d be great, thanks,” you reply rushing to follow her.

When you reached the classroom you said goodbye and parted ways with her. You had seen Mj a few more times throughout the day so when lunch rolled around you were relieved to see her face once again. As you scanned the lunchroom for an open seat she called your name, drawing the attention of the other students in the cafeteria as well. Quickly you made your way to the open seat beside her and sat down smiling at all the other kids already seated at the table.

“Hi, Im Y/N,” you say introducing yourself with a smile.

“Im Ned and this is Peter,” one of the two boys across from you answers while the other just sits there dumbfounded.

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