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a-spes · 17 days

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I litteraly can't stop thinking about this post from @whumped-by-glitter ~ Like, can we (please) take a minute to think about how perfect it's for Wandanat or BlackHill x young!R where they take her out of the Red Room?? | Warnings & Tags : messy blurb? (imagine? idk, just wanting to share my thoughts, and couldn't stop writing), mainly BlackHill, mentions of the Red Room/past abuses, no idea if that makes sense. Imagine, teen or young adult R that fails a mission, and is captured by SHIELD/The Avengers. R isn't really cooperative, even if she is not under mind control anymore, she firmly believes that. However, Nat just can't accept the idea of leaving her rotting in a cell for the rest of her life for something that isn't really her fault. Despite what R can say, Natasha wants to believe that it's not true, and that she will be able to show her that life is way more than the Red Room.

But it's not that easy. Nat more than anyone else knows that you don't come back from the Red Room that easily, and she can only assumes that it would be worst for someone that went under mind control. And she was right. At first, she tried to introduce you to how life outside is, how sweet it could be, but she quickly noticed that it didn't work. Whenever she asks you a question about what you would like, she gets no answer. If she doesn't tell you to eat or to go somewhere, you don't do it. The amount of time you didn't followed her or talked because she didn't especially told you to do so is insane, especially in the beginning. So she decides to do what she thinks it's best, even if she hates it: giving you order, being stern with you, offering you a place you know, where you feel safe (no matter how sick it's) because you can predict it, a space where you'll be fine as long as you do as your ask. The world is a big and scary place in which to evolve in, especially when you don't have the keys to understand it - what you do something you're not supposed to, and you're punished for that? R will eventually come here, but it'll definitely takes a lot of time.

But obvsiouly Nat' is hating herself for that. She knows she has to do it, for you, but it doesn't make it easier. She does it because she believes it will help you to feel better, and because if you're under her orders, they have less reasons to be worried that you would attend something under Dreykov's name (or try to go back to him). She feels guilty, and old thoughts about her not being better than the man that made them are coming back. But Maria/Wands are here to help their wife <3

AND SO, here is how I see things if it's WandaNat we're talking about - I picture Wands as the soft mom she is shown as in Wandavision, and she would definitely not appreciate Nat's methods. She trusts her wife, she knows that she has her reasons, and it must be the best way to help you, but she still doesn't like it. She hates the way you always look down, the way you would do everything her wife is asking without thinking twice about it, and most of it, she hates when you're calling Nat' "ma'am" or something else of that kind. She hates even more than her wife isn't saying anything. She didn't know you for long, but she already loves you as her own, and it pains her when you reject her. Sometimes, she and Nat would argue about the whole situation (and those arguments would definitely go too far).

BUT imagine if it's BlackHill?? Even better in my opinion, and definitely can't stop thinking about it ~ Because, unlike Wanda, Maria is directly concerned. She read your file, she saw footages of you killing dozens of people, she tracked you, lost men in the process, and she saw how you didn't seem to regret anything when she questioned you. So Maria has every reasons to be worried, especially for her wife's security (physically and mentally). What if it's just a part of a biggest plan to attempt to kill the redhead? Or worst, to take her back there? I can easily Maria being upset, and taking it out on the other recruit she is training (poor them), not daring to do much more than glaring at you, knowing her wife wouldn't appreciate. And even if she doesn't appreciate R, she trusts and love her wife, so she lets her do her thing. But she is always somewhere looking at you with a stern face, waiting for the moment you would make a mistake to step-in. But you never really make a mistake, always following Nat's orders at the perfection, which is kinda frustrating because then she has no reason to get rid of you. Except if one day R's misunderstood one of Nat's orders, which lead to a heavy situation <3 It's honestly the only situation I imagine leading to an argument between Maria & Nat. Like, maybe you hurt someone or stole something or idk, thinking you did good, and they would be proud, but when you come in the room they're just looking at you with that shocked face. But you did what you had to, no? That's exactly what you were asked to do, so why are they angry? AND IMAGINE THE ANGST FROM NOW. R's confusion, Nat' desesperatly trying to find a solution, trying to convince Maria that it was just a mistake (that was her fault because she is the one that wasn't careful with her words) but she doesn't change her mind. Pulling the "what if it happens again?" and "I am your superior, you don't get to discuss my order" cards, knowing that it would pain Nat', but she has to do it in order to keep her safe. Bonus point if Nat turns to Fury, trying to convince him as she knows her wife won't change her mind, but he doesn't say much, just agreeing with her agent, mumbling a simple "sorry" Nat doesn't want to hear. Obviously, it would eventually

AND (because there is more), I also can't stop thinking about that comment from @light-me-on-pyre ;

Like, I can easily imagine R hating Nat'. It would make so much sense because she grew up in a place where Nat' was pictured as the enemy, the one that betrayed "the ones that gave everything to her". But it wouldn't be the exact reason why R is hating Nat'. I mean, right, she hates her because she left, but mainly because of the consequences it had for the ones that came after - the worsened conditions, the mind control, etc - and how she succeed what's supposed to be impossible: leaving the Red Room. Not only physically, but mentally. Imagine R seeing Nat' on the news when she is on a mission or seeing her interacting with Maria/the Avengers, witnessing Nat' being happy. It's something she was told she doesn't deserve/will never have from a young age, so why would Nat' have the right to be happy when so many didn't? It was so much easier to hate on Nat' than on Dreykov all these years because she wasn't here, and no one would blame her to do so. But now? It's easier to continue hating Nat', for R to convince herself that the redhead is bad despite the appearances because it's easier than admitting that her whole life is a lie (kinda). And the fact that Nat' has to take the "bad guy" role in order to help R only makes things easier because, in the end, she is not different from the others, right? And so, as Nat' can't provide R the comfort she needs, it's all on Maria (at least for the beginning) who doesn't have a choice. But we all know that despite her cold demeanour, she is all soft, she is just scared for the ones she loves <3 Which includes Nat', because she saw how her wife is affected by your arrival. First, she has nightmares again because, with you, inevitably came back old memories and traumas. Then, Maria can see how her wife is so invested in your case that she barely sleep/eat/ (which is one of the reasons why she doesn't really appreciate R ...). But also, what would happen if they can't save you?

Bonus point if things get better but something happen, and everything get worse again, throwing away all these months of progress. But what if they don't have the patience to start all over again?

It's definitely (one of) my favorite trope because the amount of angst/comfort it holds is insane, and I am going crazy about it (you can tell by the lenght of that post that was supposed to be a few lines ...). Do I want to write something like that when I already have too many WIPs? Yes. Will I do it? I don't know, but I'll definitely be thinking about it 24/24 & 7/7.

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paranormal-pajama-phantom · 2 years

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could i request a deadpool x male reader where the reader is the complete opposite of wade (super serious, not that expressive, not a lot of jokes) but sometimes he kind of cracks and is just soft with wade?

Ehehe this one was a fun one to work on :3

🩸Deadpool with a mostly serious S/O🩸

Wade literally just…melts

He’s so used to seeing this stoic version of you and suddenly he gets to see his boyfriends cute little smile and giggles

Will totally ruin the moment by pinching your cheeks and telling you how adorable you are

One night when the two of you were having a movie marathon on the couch you were falling asleep and you ended up doing so on Wade’s shoulder, practically melting into him and drifting off

He sat there for hours ridgid trying not to wake you

He had to sneeze though so…

Wade loves it when he can make you laugh and he gets to hear that wonderful sound, it makes him feel loved and joyful and like the only person in the world who can make you that happy

He loves this side of you so much <3 it makes him feel like the luckiest man in the world to have such an adorable boyfriend

Come back soon! 💌

#<3 aww this is such a cute idea #mcu #x reader #x male reader #deadpool #marvel hcs #wade wilson #deadpool x male reader #deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader #fluff headcanons #fluff #headcanons #marvel fanfic #mcu x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #mcu fanfiction

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moritashie · 9 months

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I HAVE A FIC IDEA vol #5

• Tony and Peter start spending some time together after the events of Homecoming. Sometimes Tony would invite Peter over to the compound to tinker in the lab, other times he would join Spider-Man on some mission a little over the teen's level.

∘ While these meetings become something more frequent, they always end up doing something that requires his influence, is connected with a lot of public, his status as a superhero etc.

• Gradually, Tony finds himself spending more and more time checking in on the kid, whether it is through the baby monitor protocol, talking with May or the kid himself.

∘ Rhodey points that fact out one time they decide to have a drink at a bar together, joking about Tony becoming quite parental when it comes to Peter, and that leads Tony to the realization that he does in fact view Peter as his kid.

∘ At the same time he realizes that Peter must feel nowhere near the way he does. To the hero-worshipping kid he must only the "OMG it's freaking Ironman!", and he figures out that he is quite bothered by that fact. He has to change it.

• Tony devises a special plan to do as many awesome (read: fatherly) things with Peter as possible, to distance himself from the media image of Tony Stark.

FOR EXAMPLE (but doesn't have to be any of these)

∘ Building a tree-house together

∘ Teaching Peter how to make Italian pasta

∘ Going camping with him and Rhodey

∘ Organizing a Movie night with snacks

∘ Telling Peter some more casual/wild stories from his youth, (ones that Peter could relate to)

#rhodey could be Tony's wingman in this #i have checked out “WikiHow” just to get some ideas for what these two could do LMHO #This could become a one-shot SO easily #also. Peter probably does feel similarily about Tony but what do I know #there is a lot of potential in there #peter parker #iron dad #spider son #marvel #spiderman #marvel art #irondad and spiderson #spiderman fanart #irondad fanfiction #irondad fluff #marvel fanfiction #spider man #marvel mcu

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hard-core-super-star · 10 months

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Hey, I have a hailee steinfeld x reader request:

Reader is Chris Hemsworth's cousin (meaning she's aussie.) And she is dating Hailee Steinfeld. (But the relationship is a private relationship.) She plays Spider-Woman in Hawkeye and Kate Bishop's love interest. So, in an interview for ATSV, they talk about Readers Spider-Woman making an appearance in the movie.

karma is the girl on the screen coming straight home to me [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x hemsworth!reader

summary: having to do interviews with your girlfriend comes with its own set of challenges. thankfully, you always have each other's back.

warnings: none, just fluff with a side of plot; abrupt start and even more abrupt ending; light mentions of anxiety

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: this request spent almost a month in my inbox and i am so sorry for that. i hope you like it despite the long wait!

* * * * * * *

You look up from your phone at the sound of footsteps approaching. There’s no way to hide the smile that spreads across your features once you catch sight of who’s walking toward you.

“Don’t tell me you started missing me already, Steinfeld.”

She rolls her eyes affectionately at the use of her last name, an old habit that still lingers between the two of you sometimes. “You wish, Hemsworth. Just came to tell you we have five minutes before the interview starts. Wouldn’t want you to be late. Again.”

“That’s a low blow. You’re the reason I was late last time.”

“Weird. I don’t remember it like that.”

“Why am I not surprised?” You reply, attempting to sound annoyed and failing miserably.

She takes a quick look around before reaching out for your hands. You welcome the physical affection a little too eagerly for someone who was trying so hard to make fun of her a few seconds ago. If she notices, she doesn’t comment on it, clearly just as starved for contact as you are.

As much as you love being a part of interviews and getting to talk about projects you’re passionate about, you hate how little time you get to spend with Hailee. At least when you did the Hawkeye press junket you got to do almost every single interview with her due to the curiosity and impact of your character’s developing relationship. This time, however, your role has been the supportive girlfriend.

Despite the excitement from the fans about your character making a not-so-secret appearance in Across the Spider-Verse, all the journalists seemed to prefer to steer clear of having both you and Hailee in the same room to avoid being responsible for accidentally outing you. Just because your relationship is of a more private nature doesn’t mean either of you is doing a great job at keeping your obvious feelings in check.

Hence why it was decided you wouldn’t participate in many interviews. The last thing you need is another nepotism scandal.

“You nervous?” She asks, her previous teasing tone disappearing into thin air once she notices how spaced out you seem to be.

You shake your head in response almost as if that will get rid of the worries lingering in the back of your mind. “Me? Of course not, what’s there to be nervous about?”

She laughs, the sound soft and sweet. “Right. Well, since you’re not nervous then I guess you don’t want a kiss for good luck…”

“You’re a cruel woman, Hailee Steinfeld.”

“Just the way you like it,” she replies with a wink.

She starts to walk away but you pull her back toward you before she can get too far. You know you played right into her hand when you catch sight of the growing grin on her face but you’re too happy to care. You wrap your arms around her neck, careful not to mess up her hair, before connecting your lips in a slow kiss.

Her hands land on your waist long enough to pull you flush against her in an intimate embrace. Time seems to slow down to a crawl while you both relish this brief moment of affection.

It ends too fast for your liking and you have to swallow back your complaints, knowing it’s just a matter of time before people from both of your PR teams start looking for you. “We’re not done here. Just so you know.”

“Trust me-” She gives your lips one last peck before she steps away from you. “I know.”

You let her walk away first, taking a moment to thank the universe for bringing this woman into your life before following after her. You quickly arrive at the interview room and go through all the formal introductions before taking your seat next to Hailee. She shoots you a quick smile that you waste no time in returning.

The next few minutes pass by in an exciting blur of people setting up all the microphones and cameras and it’s not until the interviewer sits down in front of you that your previous nervousness rears its head again. You try to tell yourself you’re worrying over nothing but almost every interview has gone the exact same way since you joined the MCU. The only thing that brings you some reassurance is that Across the Spider-Verse is something completely different and can’t be linked to your last name. Unfortunately, that leaves the door right open for a different set of accusations regarding the brunette sitting by your side.

The interview starts in a very standard way with the first few questions being the same opening questions you’ve gotten in every other interview. You don’t really mind but you do wish people could come up with something better than,”How excited are you about this movie?”

Your complaints fade away once you’re forced to focus on the next batch of questions. “So, y/n, this was your first time doing voice acting for a movie, how different was portraying Spider-Woman in this way compared to Hawkeye?”

You give a pretty ordinary answer, waiting until you’ve fully answered the question to add in a comment that you know will be floating around your Twitter feed for most of the week. “And I definitely had to tone down my flirting this time around.”

“Was that hard for you?” The interviewer replies, not so subtly straddling the border between keeping the conversation flowing and pointing out you and Hailee’s closeness.

Your answer comes with its own set of badly hidden romantic undertones. “I mean, have you seen this woman?”

“Way to keep it professional, y/n,” Hailee says, her smile obvious in her tone.

“I just have too much charm to keep contained, darling.”

You turn your head just enough for your eyes to meet hers. A charged moment of silence passes before she looks away, muttering something about how unbelievable you are through a soft chuckle.

You almost forget where you are until the interviewer speaks up again and brings you right back to reality. “The internet certainly agrees with you, y/n. Apparently, you take after your cousin.”

“Which one?” You joke.

You can already tell where the conversation is going to go but you do your best to appear unbothered.

“Oh, you know, tall, blonde, also an Avenger.”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes but the shift in your posture doesn’t go unnoticed by Hailee. It never does.

“Right, that one. Annoying fella, isn't he?”

It’s easier to mask your annoyance as playful teasing if you direct your energy toward your cousin and not the interviewer in front of you.

“So annoying,” Hailee joins in, making a show of mimicking your accent.

You shoot her a brief but grateful smile. One she returns with the smallest nod of her head, almost as if silently telling you she’s got your back. And you don’t doubt for a second that she does.

Unfortunately for the two of you, your attempt at changing the topic of conversation goes completely ignored by the interviewer. “Still, it must be great to have support from your own family when it comes to projects like this.”

“Yeah, it’s always fun to remind Chris he never got his own show.”

Hailee makes a face at your comment and you can already imagine the “Memefeld” tweets it will create. “Technically the show isn’t yours.”

“It’s not yours either, there’s still two Hawkeyes.”

“I…yeah, okay, you got me there.”

“So, the criticism doesn’t bother you?” He continues. “It’s hard to deny the connection between your recent projects and the closest people in your life.”

This time Hailee’s the one who stiffens up and, despite the way your heart flutters in your chest at her protective nature, you decide to reply before she gets the chance to. “I appreciate people’s concern but I think they’re overestimating the importance of my personal life and greatly underestimating my talent. I’m not really bothered by it, I just ignore it, to be honest. Call it taking a page out of Taylor’s book.”

You turn to look at your girlfriend with a subtle smirk on your lips. She already knows exactly what you mean but she plays along with you anyway. “Which one? Shake it off?”

“I was thinking of Karma but sure,” you say with a shrug. “Except for the ‘guy on the screen’ part.”

Even though you mumble the last part, you know the microphone picked you up loud and clear. If your choice is between nepotism scandals and dating rumors, you’ll take the dating rumors any day. Hailee’s team probably doesn’t agree so it’s a good thing your agent is the one in the room and not Hailee’s.

Almost as if on cue, she steps in with a random excuse to end the interview. You don’t really pay attention to whatever words get exchanged since you’re too busy admiring your girlfriend.

You can already imagine the tweets and the headlines this interview will create but you don’t really mind. All you really care about is getting to go home with Hailee.

#hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld x female reader #hailee steinfeld x you #hailee steinfeld x y/n #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfeld fluff #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld fanfiction #hailee steinfeld #hawkeye #across the spiderverse #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing #if you made it this far: send me a random drabble idea and i'll love you forever

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caddy-crystal-queen · 5 months

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Thinking about something from Moon Knight. I remember in the asylum episode when Steven asked Marc if he was some kind of stress ball or something. If they come out with a season 2 like I hope they are, I NEED a reflection of that scene only it's Jake comparing himself to a punching bag, cause from theories and stuff I've read, he pretty much was....

Just...think of the angst! Basically I just need angsty, vulnerable, open Jake Lockley who behaves like an abused animal lashing out at everyone else until someone (I'm actually thinking Steven for this) shows him he's loved....just....GAH I NEED THIS IN MY LIFE PLEASE!

#moon knight #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #marvel mcu #mcu #angst #possible fanfiction idea?#maybe...

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redwingstan · 11 months

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Can I please request Adam Warlock dating someone like Mantis hcs please (looks the same and has the same powers)

author's note: thanks for your request, anon! hope you enjoy!

warnings; nothing but fluff!

The conventions of your relationship began with a single touch.

He watched you use your powers from afar on a grieving Terran - conflicted but curious on how someone who had just lost a loved one could experience such joy in an instant.

"How do you do that?" Was the first the question he asked you once he became an official Guardian.

Fearing he wouldn't understand your explanation, you held up your hand, offering to show him instead.

"May I?"

Apprehensive to what you were about to do, you settled your hand on his shoulder.

The first emotion you shared together was grief.

Months later...

He protected you every chance he got during times of combat.

Given your limited fighting skills, you didn't mind. Though there were times he went a bit too far.

You promised Rocket you'd look out for him on the field as curiosity often got the best of the golden Guardian.

Your job eventually became easy as Adam had no intentions of leaving your side.

Whether it was him standing next to you, touching your arm, or latching onto your pinky finger with his own, the both of you were inseparable.

During quiet moments, when the galaxy was as peaceful as it could get and everyone was occupied on the ship, he'd come find you and envelope you in a bone-crushing hug.

His love language is most definitely physical touch.

Hugs and hand holding are a must but only - when the work from guarding the galaxy was done for the day.

Often times he would sneak kisses on your cheek or forehead when no one was looking, causing you to be on your toes at all times.

He enjoyed pranking you. Whether it be taking you by surprise by wrapping his arms around you from behind or tickling you when he lured you into another hug for the umpteenth time that day.

And on the days he grieved over his mother, you'd settle yourself next to him, place your hand on his cheek, and start from where your relationship began.

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ceralmillkandstars · 1 year

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a beautiful ring pt 2 (namor x siren!reader)

excerpt: 500 year old god and a young, enchanting mermaid who acts like an absolute gremlin- she refuses to act any different in front of the man who could slice her in half. and he’s absolutely enamored by it.

welcome to part two :) thank yew for all of the support i’ve gotten from you guys so far. def slowly but surely buildin up here. part three is in da works as we speak, praying for some smoochy time cuz smut is my fav thing to write.

here we goooooo

You were raised to love the sea, but your home was the surface.

And by the gods did you need a shower.

Your back was sore, your hair stiff from the sea salt, and the slowly dying adrenaline rush was leaving your eyes droopy and body hunched over. Flying back to Chicago in the dead of night after returning from East Hampton’s beach killed you, your victory of stealing from a god seems meaningless when there is no more energy left to boost your own ego.

You found yourself surprised when you made it to your condo's doorsteps in downtown Chicago safely, in awe that you were just that good. Winding the prize out of your pocket, you gingerly look it over before laying it on your vanity desk, giving yourself a once over in the mirror after you beelined towards your room.

The east coast truly brought out the freckles under your eyes. You glowed, blowing yourself a kiss before trudging into the bathroom. Inhaling the crushed eucalyptus leaves affixed by twine atop of your shower head, you turn the knob as hot as you can stand, beginning to strip from the salty slip dress and undergarments.

A melody begins to hum from your lips, effortlessly wrapping yourself in a protective transfixion as you step into the shower. A groan mixing in with the angelic sound emits from you while the steaming water droplets pelt your back. You lean your head back, running your now goldless, godless fingers through your hair, gingerly tending to your scalp with lavender shampoo and tea tree oil.

You don’t quite know what you are, but you are too unique, too important, to not nourish.

Twirling your conditioner-soaked hair into a clip, you lather yourself with similarly smelling soap that reminds you of the tide pool you once bathed in as a girl, singing hymns that reminded you of the ocean floor you visited today. Twisting and swaying your hips to the song, you let the water turn ice cold once you cleaned yourself sparkling, your hair soft and relaxed, ready to be brushed and braided for the night. The frozen pellets encourage your fears, your inhibitions, the fear that you might have not been forgotten, swirl down the drain, the song coming to an end as you turn the dial off.

Lavender lotion, face oil, floral spaghetti strap and matching undies, french braids with rosemary elixir being soaked by your scalp- the perfect night.

Pizza would make it better, though.

You plop yourself on the bed, back on the mattress, legs raised and pointed towards the air as you dig for your phone to dial whichever place had stuffed crust and pineapple.

You are not alone, the moon murmurs to you, allowing a black sludge of dread to pool within you. Your body jerks up, and you cross your arms over your chest. Eyebrows furrowing and lips jutted, you scan your room.

My kitchen, my kitchen.��

Who is in my kitchen?

If another absolutely rancid, stupid boy who couldn’t take the hint and throw away your condo key (you’d never admit that was your fault), you were drowning them. Even if you had to hull their unconscious bodies to Chicago’s murky waters to do so. Even if that’s never happened before.

That’s never happened before.

With a paling face, you slide off the bed and storm into the kitchen. Sometimes, you prayed that the moon would foretell you important information before such an event occurred.

“Listen, Chad, or Jason, or Elijah, who-fucking-ever, if someone ghosts you and doesn’t call you back that doesn’t give you authority to come into their home even if you have a key. I’m going to count to ten before I lay you flat on that countertop and remove your most important ligaments from your body because I am just so fucking tired- oh..”

Your fears did not travel too far down the drain while you showered. Your protection hum was not enough. In fact, the unease of being out of control slithered back up and wrapped itself like a serpent around your neck in a chokehold, for the moon did not whisper to you soon enough that he had followed you back home.

Your protection song was not enough. Usually, something so simple would cause an intruder to burst into a billion water droplets. Usually, you would have just come into the kitchen to discover a puddle and smile to yourself knowing that an idiot got what was coming to them. You did not need the moon to warn you of robbers, of shallow one night stands who can’t get enough of your hypnotic stares, of anyone coming into your home without permission.

And yet, this god stands in your kitchen, seemingly perplexed by your adornment of antique plates and cups poorly stacked in the open cabinets, not one of them the same. His fingers trace along adjacent jars, reading to himself each herb and spice labeled and put away on the wood shelf. You mirror his annoyed expression as his eyes wander near the sink, finding a ripped open, half eaten, chocolate bar.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” you murmur, taking soft steps towards the barrier of your kitchen. You find your fingers smoothing down the base of your floral tank top, giving an angsty stare towards the pair of matching panties acting as a second skin.

Well, at least it didn’t look like you were lying.

He did not change, his gold armor tightly affixed to his shoulders, spear tightly bound in his hands. The large, gold-plated necklace and larger than life pearls, other finely varnished necklaces stack upon one another and his curly, damp, yet neatly toppled hair with those earrings had your cheeks heating.

Very rarely does one of your stature, your nature, become seduced themselves.

Or so the moon tells you.

“Do those earrings hurt from wearing them all day, or does swimming in the water help with the weight distribution?” You blurt, cheeks red, back straight.

The god simply turns, giving you a slow once over. Quiet rage, curiosity swims in his eyes, a deadly demeanor flowing from him to you, you to him.

Exposing pajamas and random questions being unanswered won’t stop you from making his atoms implode with a whisper, for disrespect is a sour taste on your tongue.

Could you even kill him? Leave a scratch on his cheek?

Internally, you scoff. You won’t kill a god. You might steal from one, but it would be purely selfish of you to kill this man. The moon has whispered secrets of an underground world since you were a child wishing to sleep sooner, and it would be against your very nature to slaughter the man who leads a dream world.

So you continue on, filling in the bloodless silence as he turns to your dining table, “I like how you wear your oceanic garb on the surface. I think it’s neat.”

Is he going to take the ring back? Kill you? I mean, if you were him, you’d kill you if caught. Maybe you should go get it.

“I will not conform myself to the surface when I step foot onto this land.” The silky, calculated, deliberate cool tone reverberates around your home, the tranquil atmosphere melding into an eerie fog.

You pucker your lips, nodding.

The moon must be humored by your calmness before the very man whose spear could impale you before you could send another twinkle. Or horrified. Her daughter lackadaisical, wearing floral panties and a small, matching top in front of the serpent god.

He stares at you for a second longer, his eyes melting any confidence, any tranquility left in your body. A small girl with a knack for pretty things quivers before the god.

“I have heard rumors of the ones who are creatures of the sea. The creatures that can return to the surface world if they wish, full-bodied at their will. The creatures who can manipulate, who could conquer the world at their whim-”

“The moon does not wish me to conquer,” you bite, chin upturning. You turn, beginning to move towards your room. If you’re going to be interrogated, it better be with pizza.

A gasp pelts from you as his spear shoots out in front of you in a swift, presiding motion. The sharp metal kisses your cheek, the flesh of it nearly missing being sheered off.

Whiplash consumes you as you turn towards the god, face shot.

You guess it’s not the right time for pizza.

“The moon?” He quizzes, eyes narrowing, utterly fixated upon you. He observes as your chest heaves, your wide eyes staring down his spear, watching as you fight between looking at his face and that skillfully crafted weapon. There hasn’t been this powerful of a man so close to you before.

You gulp, nodding, wishing you could straighten your back, turn up your chin, more,“Yes, the moon.”

The spear slaps back to his side, and he moves away from you, continuing to contemplate your home. Your living room, your dining table, the half eaten dark chocolate bar sitting on the counter from the other night. Flowery, ethereal, a little messy. You strived to bring as much essence with you to the surface world as you could, finding incandescence in each piece you brought back to your condo. Stolen or not is long forgotten by now, all you know is that this is your home.

A god is looking around your home. Cheeks heated, you pray to the Mother to take the embarrassment and hope he is even the slightest bit impressed.

He strides towards the velvet couch, and you cringe as he sits. It’s unearthly to witness a sea god attempting to relax into your couch. It seems he feels the same way, unable to sit in an indestructible way, so he settles for resting his elbows on his knees, gazing up at you.

“Do you have velvet couches at home?”

It is not a request when he states, “tell me about your moon.’

“It is not my moon,” you begin, tiptoeing towards the adjacent couch. You grab a small throw pillow, shielding your peaking, freckled stomach as you sit down. Any wrong moves, any innuendos you’d fight him in your apartment would mean slaughter. The moon warns you of this as you cross your legs and force yourself to face the god. “She is simply the moon. She holds the energy to the waters, and water is within us all- no matter the level. I serve her and her me.”

His gaze gives away he is not satisfied with this information, and you shrug your shoulders. There is little information you wish to give away tonight, your growling stomach and fluttering eyes urging you to find a way to end this conversation and get this man on his way.

“What more is there to know?” What a teasing answer, and his brows rise in the slightest. You’re both struggling to keep your composure, this god used to his world bending to his will and your sleepy, angry hunger fueling whatever delinquency was about to arise.

“How do you serve her?” You nearly groan at that demanding tone, it’s what- midnight? There’s no food, emphasis on no food, in your stomach and you wish to curl under your freshly washed winter duvet to borrow away until the upcoming afternoon instead of being questioned right now.

“I am tired,” you feebly admit, voice soft like silk and edged glass. A fine balance for a soon-to-be tantruming moon child. You prayed to her to not let him see you act a fool after stealing his ring.

A fine price to pay for not being powerful enough. “Can we continue this conversation another time? You know where I live. I just want some pizza- what? Pizza is good.”

You nearly scoff at his grimacing complexion. Slowly deteriorating, your once gentle, feline gaze began to melt into a matching stare as he replied.

“The surface world food is vile.”

“Have you ever had stuffed crust pizza?” Gods, arguing was going to get you nowhere. What can you do to get this god to leave?

He is not leaving, child.

“How do you serve the moon?” He repeats, straightening his back.

He just won’t quit. You ponder how it turns out for someone to push his button; a fire ignites in your stomach at the thought.

“I’m in my undies right now, I’m hungry, I am exhausted, and I don’t even know who you are. Come back in the morning once I’ve eaten my vile food,” you spit, “and I’ll think about telling you all my cute little secrets.”

Incredulously, his mouth gapes open in the slightest before standing up, bolting to tower over you faster than you can recalibrate yourself. Before your gaze can linger on his thighs for more than a moment's notice, you find a tight grip on your jaw, cheeks squishing and your lips pursed in the slightest. Dread consumes you, and you feel the moon shake her head.

“You dare,” he begins, staring down at you as if you were less than the scum under his feet, “speak to me like this as if you did not steal what does not belong to you in the first place- siren.” You return the fever, glaring back at him, clenching the chair’s cushioning and pushing yourself to meet his face with yours.

“It was pretty,” you seethe, “and I am not a siren.”

He tuts, clenching your jaw harder between his thumb and forefinger, twisting your neck as though you were the ring you plucked from him in the ocean, “Little surface girls taking things that do not belong to them, claiming they belong to the moon.”

Mother forgive me, you silently beg, the rage allowing one last particle of energy to surface. You let yourself blow out a soft sigh that you hope, you pray, feels like peppering kisses all over his face and neck.

Peppering kisses turn into boiling beads of sweat pilling along his temples in mere seconds, your silent will urging his blood to cook beneath you. Boiling blood and a dark, unearthed lust surfacing in the form of a longing gaze and heated skin. His grip molding soft, lips parting.

“Return tomorrow, and I will answer your questions,” whatever sultry notes left in your voice bellow in his stomach, your eyes hooded, skin glowing as you summon the moonlight to cast against your goose bumped skin.

Bend to me by the order of the moon, bend to me and go home.

He longingly looks over your moon-kissed cheeks between his hand, down to your collar bones, the dip of your chest begging to pour out of your small tank top, tracing your navel with his eyes and they linger on the embroidered panties, your throw pillow long gone on the floor once you sat up fully to fight for yourself- for your pizza- tonight.

But because the way he was returning your devilish look, you might not be hungry for just pizza.

Bend to my will, sweet king. Let me continue my night, you may question me in the morning.

And then he has the audacity to reel back and laugh, letting you jerk away at the expense of your own mortification.

Heaven forbid, it didn’t work.

Dark red embellishes your cheeks, your nose, your neck and chest. Blotchy.

Your cooler hands find your cheeks, urging them to quiet, and you curl back into your chair. Looking down at your newly polished toes and back up towards him with pure fury, you couldn’t feel more humiliated.

The moon did not let you win.

There is no victory, no satisfaction when you are angry, she murmurs, synchronizing the gods movements as he lifts your chin again. It is gentle, testing. You are met with a curious, cautious, nevertheless impenetrable stare. His eyes travel between your cheeks, watering eyes, your pink, pouty lips.

“I will return in the morning, when the sun rises.” He promises with a nod, “hopefully you will be as enchanting as you are described in the books with a full stomach and long nights rest.” There is a soft laugh, the god not yet letting go of your face, observing the pink splotches of shame along your neck. “I did not think the definition of moon children would be so literal.”

You could not manipulate this man, and he is calling you a child.

You are too angry, too tired, too defeated to rebuttal that you are the goddess, the justice, the love and power of the moon.

He did not ask for his ring back when he let go of your face, gathered his spear, and took flight from your open balcony window, giving you another short, determined once over.

A loud groan escapes you as the transparent, pink-hued curtains sway with the wind.

You want to chuck that ring out of that very window, you decide.

Before you went to bed, you ate a whole box of stuffed crust pizza.

He kept his promise.

After failing to have a good night’s rest, tossing and turning, waking with cold sweats and dreams of cascading down a rabbit hole, you understand why your sleep was disrupted in the early morning.

There he sat, across from your bed in another lounge chair seemingly miniature while he shuffles about. He twirls one of your small shell in his hand, and it seems as though he took a good chunk of time out of his night to look through nearly all of your trinkets.

You sigh and roll over in your bed away from the man in the chair, pulling the duvet over your head. A groan reverberates through the sheets when you shove your face into the surface of the mattress.

This is not how you imagined your morning after East Hampton. You allow yourself to daydream for a moment, pretending you wake in the sun alone, stretch, cum with one of your previous vibrators, and make an omelet with the mushrooms you got from the market just the other day. Cheese and mushrooms and eggs, maybe a coffee, maybe a chai.

With a final groan to ground you, you flip the covers and force yourself to sit up. Your braids are tightly wound, the natural lighting from the window causing your hair to glow and your freckles to surface and sparkle. From your tank top, a large tshirt covers you, fabric folding over your stomach and thighs, barely covering your underwear.

Should you say hi? Should you act like he’s not there and get on with your morning routine?

You decide the latter, swinging your legs to hang off the of the bed and scoot for your feet to touch the floor. Your arms raise, and you stretch, looking towards the sky as you silently thank the moon for allowing you to see another beautiful morning, letting the gratitude bathe you.

He simply stares.

You let him as you wander into the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth.

There is no way you’ll be less than presentable in front of a god, you whisper to the moon as your examine your small closet. Your eyebrows furrow- you cannot remember a time you contemplated looking presentable for someone else.

You can hear the moon giggle as you contemplate wearing one of your prettiest dresses that you specifically use for full moon nights. Or the new moon? What kind of energy are you bringing into this conversation?

Energy, your lips quirk. May he be enamored, for it is not about the dress but jewelry that adorns you.

You place yourself in lacy garments, a shimmer of silver and a soft green, puffy-sleeved, translucent blouse and lightly washed, high-waisted jeans. Matching, lacy socks and a silver necklace with a curled shell.

Glamoured rings slide themselves onto your fingers, and you inspect the finery wrapped around your flesh with a grin. Silver and gold bands with crystals wired around them and dipped into moon water and rose oil bound to convey any man to serve you. Hopefully a god, too.

Gold glitter smears across your eyelid, your cheekbones and a tap on your nose. Clear mascara and brow gel brushes its way on as you glow at yourself in the mirror.

Wetting your hair and re-curling your golden ringlets with a serum, you place two pearly clips to push aside the front pieces of your hair on each side, framing your face in the most pleasing way.

Terrifyingly beautiful.

I am dreamy, I am translucent, I am a child of the moon.

With a deep breath and another prayer to the moon, you’re gliding out of the bathroom.

May the moon bless this day.

“I’m hungry,” you state as your feet patter towards him sitting in the chair, his body did not move an inch, now holding one of your hair clips. You stand in front of him, nearly at eye-level. Perplexed, angry, annoyed, curious, lustful- all the emotions you could sniff out as he gave you a slow, deliberate look over.

“Would you like to join me for breakfast?” You breathe, refraining from twirling your fingers together. Asking, not taking, was not a talent of yours. It makes you blush, makes you sweat.

“Tell me how you serve your moon while you eat.”

You find yourself agreeing with the slightest of smiles.

@angeli-fucking-cat <3

#namor x reader #namor x you #namor fanfiction #tenoch huerta namor #namor smut #namor imagine #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #marvel universe #marvel headcanons #marvel writing #marvel fanfiction #my wreck this journal #writing #i hope so so much u enjoy #again.. dunno where to go from here! lemme know how you feel #if u got ideas plz send them my way

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dropunderscore · 2 days

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fanfiction idea

Tom Holland Spiderman after nwh being alot more morally gray and using the secrets he knows about other heroes/villains to his advantage. AU where Tony didn't die I could imagine Peter breaking into Tony's Lab and when Tony finds him peter drops the most jaw dropping secret he shouldn't know and dips

#marvel #marvel mcu #mcu #tony stark #tony stark didn't die #peter parker #spider man #iron man #Spider-Man #fanfiction idea #marvel fanfiction #Spider-Man fanfiction

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wolpertingerprompts · 8 months

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I have no idea what one could do with this information, but it made me think of Deadpool. I just saw a Toyota Tacoma where the oma on the back was missing, so it just said "TACO" in big letters.

#spideypool #Deadpool #spideypool prompt #fic prompt #prompt blog #prompt #fanfiction #fanfic #idea #imagine #fandom #fic #ao3 #mcu #spider man

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steevbuckk · 1 year

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FAVORITE STUCKY FICS | 33/100

some short fics that i love 🥰

Brooklyn by @toli-a

[Post Avengers, 8 749 words, Teen And Up Audiences]

Summary:

"Captain America, what's your stance on gay marriage?"

Everyone knows that, by now. Everyone but Bucky.

Sexiest Man... Alive? by @otp-holic

[Post Endgame, 2 473 words, General Audiences]

Summary:

Steve has been away from the public eye for three years, and he decides to come back to be named Sexiest Man Alive.

Why?

Infinity by @andrea1717

[Post TWS, 1 258 words, General Audiences]

Summary:

Bucky and Steve spend a very special new year's eve together.

maybe bi guy by @yetanotherobsessivereader

[Wrong number AU, 3 338 words, Mature]

Summary:

Steve: i saw that guy again. i think i’m not as straight as i thought i was

Unknown number: i hate to tell you this but you got the wrong number pal. but hey, i’m bi. i’ve been there. i can talk you through it if you want

---

Or Steve embarks on a journey of self-discovery assisted by a helpful stranger who likes to make really bad puns

Cat Calls by @cable-knit-sweater

[Shrunkyclunks, 4 819 words, Teen And Up Audiences]

Summary:

When veterinarian Bucky gives Steve his personal number, he’s pretty sure he’s obvious enough in what he wants him to use it for. But Steve doesn’t call to ask him out for a drink, or dinner. No, when he ends up calling Bucky late at night, it’s not even for a booty call. It’s because of his newly adopted cat. And he continues to call Bucky about his cat. Until eventually…

———-

“Just uhm, doing my job,” he says, waving away the compliment. “So, do we have a name yet?”

“Cat.”

“Yeah she sure fuckin is,” Bucky chuckles.

Steve smirks back at him. “No, her name, I named her Cat.”

Bucky stares at him in disbelief, looking for a sign that it’s a joke. It’s not. He named his cat Cat . He’s not sure if that makes him more or less attracted to Steve. Still, he won’t stand for it.

#BeProud by @iamnelvenqueen

[Coming out, 9 021 words, Explicit]

Summary:

To say that Steve had thought about it would have been a lie. It wasn’t an impulse decision either, but it had just occurred to him in the heat of the moment a couple of days before.

He looked back over his shoulder at the sleeping body in his bed, incapable of preventing himself from smiling as he took in his lover’s open mouth and soft snores.

Yes, he was sure of himself. Even if he hadn’t thought about it for more than a few hours at most, he wasn’t about to take back his decision.

In which Steve Rogers decides to casually come out on Twitter on a sunny Sunday morning.

getting off (on a technicality) by MaddieWritesStucky (Madeleine_Ward)

[Modern AU, 4 510 words, Explicit]

Summary:

Steve looks exactly like his dating profile had advertised, with one glaring exception—the sheer size of him.

Apparently mass doesn’t translate to the small screen, because instead of getting your average beach muscle gym-bro like Bucky had been expecting, he’d instead been met with what has to be 200lbs of build-you-a-house, carry-you-up-a-mountain, wrestle-a-bear-and-win whole ass man, and it’s short circuiting Bucky’s delicate brain.

And he’s not hiding it particularly well, if the way Steve’s smirking at him when Bucky pulls himself together enough to actually look at his face is anything to go by.

In which Bucky most resolutely, definitively, uncompromisingly does not fuck on the first date…

…until he meets Steve.

more fics

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yourlovergorl · 11 months

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Just imagine you get a cold and Wanda and Natasha just codling you all. day. long. Not leaving you alone for a second. They would be like, “It’s okay baby just let us do this for you”. Wanda would make you soup, saying she wants to teach you how to make her favorite sokovian foods one day, and Natasha goes on snack runs for you, bringing back your favorite junk foods for the movie you all watch later. At the end of the day the two would lay down with you in bed, ignoring your complaints about them getting sick as well. And when you finally fall asleep in their arms they giggle to themselves about how adorable your sleeping figure is.

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gburph · 6 months

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Lokius writing prompts 3

My new ideas, some of them are inspired by the latest episode. My previous Lokius writing prompts are here, and here. If anyone uses them, please let me know. I want to read it. Today there are only 3 prompts but they are LONG 👀

1 - After saving the Multiverse, Loki and Mobius live together in Mobius' home. They are both busy working at TVA and looking after the children. Loki is so happy to have Mobius back and be part of his life that he doesn't question anything. That is until the younger of Mobius' children calls him dad (to his face or to someone else, and Loki overhears it). Loki then starts to notice that people around them (in TVA and outside) think that he and Mobius are together. This causes Loki to have an existential crisis, as he has been acting like the children's dad and Mobius' partner and for some reason has been completely unaware of this until that moment. Loki realises that he is really happy to be a part of Mobius' family and would like to start a real relationship with Mobius, but he is not sure what Mobius thinks about this and at this point he is too afraid to ask.

2 - Field Trip to Avengers Tower AU! TVA's Loki landed in the place of 2012's Loki just after the failed Chitauri invasion. He managed to convince everyone that he was under the influence of the Mind Stone, and to help fix everything he had inadvertently contributed to he promised to help defend Earth from a future invasion by Thanos. As a result, he joined the Avengers and, despite earlier scepticism about his intentions at this point after two years, most people more or less believe he actually wants to help. Still some members of the Avengers prefer not to get too close to him. Loki is again an outsider. On a day when the Avengers' tower is holding open days and another tour of visitors arrives, Tony Stark notices Loki's strange behaviour. At the sight of a perfectly ordinary 50-year-old father of two sons, Loki, the ever-confident god of lies suddenly turns into a bundle of nerves. He nervously fixes his hair and clothes, stammers as he talks, and for some incomprehensible reason starts talking about jet skis to impress the man. The strangest thing is that this tactic works because this DILF, whose name it turns out is Don, keeps emphasising that he is a single father and has no wife. Has he already mentioned that he doesn't have a wife? Tony takes pity on Loki (who completely misses the fact that Don is interested in him) and informs him that Don will definitely agree if Loki asks him out. Loki, who at this point was preoccupied by the fact that he had suddenly met Mobius whom he had completely given up hope of meeting again after the events at TVA, is at first shocked that Tony thought Loki was romantically interested in Mobius. However, he takes his advice as he sees no other option to keep in touch with Mobius and before he knows it he starts dating him.

3 - Loki and Mobius fight a very dangerous variant that jumps through different universes and commits serious crimes on them. It's so serious that TVA has decided that capturing this variant is their top priority. During the fight, Loki and Mobius become separated, and this variant steals Loki's tempad and throws him out of the time door. Loki lands in the middle of Avengers Tower, some time after Thor: The Dark World and Captain America: The Winter Soldier, but before Avengers: Age of Ultron. In this universe, Loki really died, so he wasn't pretending to be Odin. Loki lands right in front of Tony Stark, Rhodey and Maria Hill. Luckily for him, the rest of the Avengers are on a mission at the moment. Loki quickly surrenders, is captured and escorted to a makeshift interrogation room in Hulk's part of the underground. During the interrogation, Tony becomes so worked up that he starts showing Loki photos and informations about people who died during the 2012 attack on New York. Loki tries not to show any emotion on his face, but then he sees Mobius' face among the victims. Tony notices his reaction, but he doesn't know what does that mean. After the interrogation, Tony tries to calm down in his workshop when J.A.R.V.I.S. tells him that something strange is happening in Loki's cell. Tony prepares to fly in guns blazing to stop Loki from escaping, but then he looks into the cameras and sees the same man Loki reacted to earlier walking through a strange orange portal. From that moment on, Tony can't look away and sees and hears their entire conversation. He often doesn't understand it, but from what he sees, Loki can't get over the fact that he killed this man, and the newcomer is trying to calm him down. Elements of this conversation that would be nice to include:

Mobius knows about everything since before (at first he wanted to go where he came from but after pruning he changed his mind? sus. Maybe some other Loki variant returned his memories and this is why Mobius reacts the way he reacts when somebody talks about it)

Mobius doesn't care that Loki killed his variant because he doesn't think his variant at that time was important to Loki and his death is no different from the deaths of other people

Mobius knows about how Loki was being affected by: learning that he was not only adopted but also a frost giant, suicide attempt in 1st Thor, falling into the hands of Thanos and the Other, the influence of the Mind Stone, etc. and how it all contributed to what Loki did

Mobius knows that even Loki who was out of his mind was trying to sabotage the invasion (come on, he can teleport, change his appearance and covert operations are his speciality, but he does everything in the most flashy and dramatic way possible? and Dr Selvig, a weak human managed to oppose the Mind Stone to the point of building an off switch in the portal? sus)

Loki repeats what Mobius told him in the interrogation room during their first meeting ("You were born to cause pain and suffering and death. That's how it is, that's how it was, that's how it will be. All so that others can achieve their best versions of themselves.")

A very strong hug

After listening to this conversation Tony can't go back to hating Loki. When the rest of the Avengers comes back Tony is on the Loki's side and he tries to calm down Thor who is angry, hurt and doesn't like Mobius at all. It would be better if Mobius didn't have children in this fanfic.

(This is a prompt I'm trying to use myself but I don't know if I will finish this story so I decided to give it to you. You are welcome to use it if you want to. Especially because even if I finish it I don't know if I'm ever going to translate it into English - it's not my native language)

Yes, I know most of my prompts have the "sudden realisation of feelings" cliche in it, but I just don't think that with everything going on in the show Mobius and Loki have time to process their feelings. Which is why they need the slow burn story to have the time to:

A - notice how they are feeling, process it, confess and get together.

Or:

B - get together because reasons, notice their feelings, process them and then confess.

I also know that I use Tony Stark a lot in these prompts. You can replace him with any other Avenger if you want.

As usual:

Bonus points if in post season 2 canon complaint stories every member of TVA hates spaghetti with burning passion.

More bonus points for Loki's interactions with various members of the Avengers, Guardians, SHIELD, etc.

Even more bonus points for Lokius slow burn.

Tell me what you think of my ideas!

BTW - I don't have Disney+ and I never watched Loki season 2 🤡 (only the first 4 episodes of season 1.) Most of what I know about the show I know from the internet. I hope my prompts are consistent with the plot.

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