#mcu imagines

[spider-stark]

INFINITELY YOU

part three // spitfire

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, minors DNI

WORD COUNT - 4.5k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker // tobey!peter = pete

On the walk back from Peter Pan’s, it seemed as though Parker had managed to entirely escape the sputtering awkwardness that had ensnared him the night before. 

And, after countless city blocks of listening to him babble about absolutely everything and anything, you realized that there was one very striking similarity between him and Peter. 

Both boys had a fervent interest in all things nerd. 

“New Hope takes place nearly two decades after the rise of the Galactic Empire, meaning that Leia is only nineteen when she's kidnapped and forced aboard the Death Star! Which is like, absolutely insane, right? Seriously! Imagine being nineteen years old and stuck inside of something that has the potential to obliterate an entire planet!” 

Shoving open the lobby door to your complex, Parker hardly even waits for you to hum your agreement before continuing his retelling of the Star Wars film. 

“And at the exact same time, Luke is finally beginning his Jedi training! Which, honestly, nineteen is actually super old for that, but-” 

Moving towards the stairs, Parker close on your heels, you cut him off with a question. “Too old? Nineteen is hardly even an adult,” you argue. “What age do most Jedi start training?” 

“About four or five, so obviously Luke was way behind,” 

Not even a full three stairs up, you come to a grinding halt, leaving Parker to bump into your back. “Four?!” You cry out, wide-eyed as you spin around to face him. “That’s insane!” 

Parker only lifts his shoulders, clearly not understanding the reason for your horror. 

Furthering your point, you add, “There’s nothing ethical about taking a bunch of little kids and training them to be weird, intergalactic warriors!” 

“It’s the best way to train them!” He lifts his hand defensively, explaining, “The earlier they start training, the less likely it is that the kids will have formed an attachment to their families! That way they learn to act out of logic instead of emotion!” 

For a heartbeat, you’re rendered entirely speechless by the absurdity of his claim, left to stand with your mouth agape as you blink at him. 

“That sounds like emotional abuse,” you finally huff, shaking your head. “Actually, scratch that—it doesn’t sound like emotional abuse, it just is!” 

“It’s not abuse-” 

You hold a hand up, stopping him before he can say anything else. “Give me one good reason why a group of adults should withhold love and affection from children if they aren’t abusing them.” 

“Uh, how about the fact that love is basically what made Anakin turn to the dark side!” Parker scoffs, clearly unwilling to recognize how insane the notion he was pushing actually is. 

“Or maybe Anakin turned to the dark side because he was indoctrinated and traumatized by some stupid space cult!” 

The expression on his face is downright laughable. 

It was as if you had just reached out and slapped him across the face. His jaw went slack, his mouth hung open in blatant offense. As a sputtering noise falls from his lips, trying and failing to come up with a good rebuttal, you smirk. 

“Exactly,” you boast, taking his inability to speak as a sign of victory. 

Twirling on your heel, you continue up the stairs, nearly all the way to the top before you finally hear him come stomping up behind you. 

“The Jedi Order is not a cult!” He finally shouts after you. 

Already traipsing through the hallway, fiddling with your keys, you sing-song, “Whatever you say, bug-boy.” 

Reluctant to admit defeat, Parker continues grumbling under his breath as you unlock the door, spouting something off about your lack of respect for George Lucas. 

“Look,” you tell him, pushing the door open, “if liking Star Wars matters this much to you, then I’ll gladly watch them with you.” A wry smile plays on your lips as you turn to look at him, standing in the doorway, “Maybe watching them will be enough to change my opinion on turning kids into galactic slaves.” 

Eyes narrowing in a playful glare, he’s only able to hold the expression for less than a few seconds before a laugh causes him to break character. “I just can’t believe that Peter hasn’t made you watch them already,” he admits. “I had you watch them so much that you could probably recite the scripts from memory alone!” 

His amusement dies off as soon as he finishes the sentence. Despite having been the one to bring it up, the mention of his world seems to cast a sullen shadow over him, ruining his sweet, boyish smile. 

Curiosity instantly claws at you, begging you to ask him why his world seemed to have such a negative effect on him. Or, rather, why his version of you seemed to have such an effect. 

This had happened last night too, when you had asked him if the two of you were friends in his world—and it was because of this that you assume that you’re somehow the common denominator in his discomfort. 

Still, you don’t let yourself ask him about it. For as much as you’re starting to like Parker, you don’t know him nearly well enough to try prying into his life. 

Not yet, at least. 

“Well, you’re more than welcome to force me into sitting through them in this world, too.” You tell him sweetly, sweeping an arm out to gesture inside of your apartment, inviting him. “It’s not like I’ve got any plans for the rest of the day.” 

You couldn’t even remember the last time you did have plans. Life had been so quiet since that last night with Peter and Mj—the night when everything went so horribly wrong. 

Parker sucks in a breath through his teeth, a hand coming to rest against the back of his neck. “I should probably get back out on the streets,” he reluctantly says, sounding more like he was convincing himself of that than you. “But, I don’t know, maybe we can take a rain check on it, yeah?” 

Disappointment washes over you, sudden enough that you’re sure it shines through on your face. It takes a shocking amount of willpower to stop yourself from trying to persuade him to stay, wanting to remind him that two other Spider-Men were already running themselves ragged in pursuit of the villains—so why did he have to go, too? 

You had grown used to his constant talking, having found solace in the chatter that kept you from slipping too far into your own thoughts. Selfishly, you wanted him to stay so that you wouldn’t have to be alone; so that you wouldn’t have to risk thinking too long about Doctor Strange or the multiverse or constants or Peter. 

The thought of admitting any of that out loud, however, felt incredibly humiliating. 

“For sure,” you force a smile, trying to ignore the many thoughts swirling in your mind. Then, eyeing the slightly too-tight Ramones shirt that he’d stolen from you, you add, “But shouldn’t you at least come in and change?” 

His nose wrinkles slightly as he shakes his head. “Nah—I think this city has more than enough spider-people swinging around it right now. I figure we might actually benefit from one of us patrolling on the ground-level, y’know? Maybe I can ask around for any giant lizards or blown light bulbs.” 

It’s hard to tell if the last bit is meant to be a joke or not, but you laugh anyway if only to avoid knowing why you should be worried about lizards and light bulbs. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you second his idea. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later then?” 

A surprising sense of joy lights his eyes at the sound of your hesitance, unfitting of the simplicity of the moment, but charming nonetheless. He grins—a wide and endearing sort of grin—as he takes a step back, “I won’t be gone long,” he promises before reminding you, “lock the door behind you, alright? And if you need anything-” 

He pauses, patting the pockets of his jeans only to remember that he didn’t bring a phone with him to this universe—and that, even if he did, there likely wasn’t a wireless plan good enough to support multiversal travel. 

“If you need anything, call 911.” 

“Got it,” you laugh, watching as he stumbles backwards towards the stairwell, cheeks red with faint embarrassment. 

Turning to go inside, you can’t ignore the warmth that now blooms in your chest. 

You could definitely get used to having him around. 

A peculiar sensation prickles at your skin, curling along your spine like icy fingertips. 

Something was wrong. Very wrong. 

The usually comfortable atmosphere of your apartment had shifted. An eerie tension fills the space, a near-suffocating feeling that has the very walls holding their breath, humming a tune of warning as you inch further into the living room. 

Your stomach twists as the sharp tang of exhaust fumes fills your nostrils. By the couch, a faint breeze rustles the curtains of a window, wafting in the nauseating scent of the city street below—a window that hadn’t been open when you left earlier. 

A mere foot or so away, you notice that the picture frame Parker had been fiddling with before is now lying on its face, having been knocked off the end table and abandoned. Atop the table, you notice that the lamp is sitting askew, its base just inches from tumbling over the edge and joining the frame. 

Someone had come in through your window—and it didn’t appear as though stealth had been very important to them, given that they had clearly stumbled into the table upon their entrance. 

Adrenaline floods your senses, your spine stiffening as you take a series of slow, quiet steps. 

Moving towards the corner, you carefully reach out a hand to grab the metal bat propped against the wall. The bat had been an unlikely housewarming present from when you first moved in, given to you by Peter’s mentor and your own reluctant renegade, Tony Stark. For nearly two years now it had sat in this corner, unused and gathering dust—until now. 

You wrap your fingers tightly around the base, wincing slightly as the rubber grip pulls at the still-healing flesh on your palm, making you curse yourself for not properly bandaging the wound last night. 

But you’re used to pain—and so you’re easily able to bite back against it as you ease through the living room, checking for any sign of the intruder's presence. 

As you walk, gripping the bat like your life depends on it, you can’t help but hear Tony Stark’s voice echo in your mind. 

If you’re gonna live alone, then you should have some sort of protection—he had told you, gently placing the cool steel into your hands for the first time, a ribbon tied sloppily around it—not that you need it. 

Satisfied with your search of the living room, you start easing towards the hall. You’re good at sneaking around, having had a lot of practice at it—every movement you make is calculated, every footfall so purposefully gentle that it’s nearly silent. 

Quiet as you were, you could do nothing to ease the sound of your blood thrumming wildly in your own ears, your heart pounding against your chest. 

The incessant beating worries you—because you know that there are people in the world with the unnatural ability to hear such things. Peter, even with his enhanced hearing, had to be close to someone in order to hear something as soft as their heartbeat; but you had heard rumors that there were others who could hear a pulse from miles away, others like the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 

The thought makes your blood run cold, though you try to push the worries from your mind. From what you know, the Devil doesn’t have a habit of breaking into apartments, nor was Queen's his usual jurisdiction. 

No—what you were dealing with had to be no more than an average burglar! 

An average burglar who, somehow, scaled up the side of a building to break into your apartment… 

Alright—you think, approaching the end of the hall—perhaps it’s a not-so-average burglar, then! Still better than the Devil. 

Peeling one hand from the bat’s handle, you curl your fingers around the doorknob to the guest room, Parker’s room. You ease the door open slowly, trying to keep the old hinges from crying out as you peer into the space. 

The sweet scent of vanilla is the first thing that hits you, contrasted by the subtle bite of vetiver. 

Parker—the room smells of him, even though he had only been here for one night. 

On the bed, the quilt is rumpled and thrown about, pillows strewn about. The doors of the armoire are wide open, a few old shirts hanging over the edge of one of the shelves, no doubt from when he went digging through your clothes in search of something to wear. 

The room was messy, but empty. 

Your shoulders sag, half-a-breath loosing from your lungs. The relief is short-lived, however; as by the time you edge back into the hall to turn towards your own door, you’re overwhelmed with dread. 

If whoever broke in was still here, then this was the only place they could be—save for the bathroom, though you seriously doubt any burglar would have much interest in scouring through your toiletries… 

Easily, gracefully, you twist the knob, the metal yielding quietly to your careful touch. 

The curtains are tightly drawn, eradicating any trace of sunlight and leaving the room cloaked in shadows. But, even in the darkness, you’re able to see the rough outline of a figure sprawled out across your mattress. 

For a split second, you think of Parker’s advice to call 911, the weight of your phone suddenly heavy in your back pocket. 

You think of how you should follow that advice. 

You think about how fast you could run—if you would be able to reach the front door before they could catch up to you. 

But then you stop thinking, disregarding all logic and reason as you take a step into the room, as if drawn in by some invisible force. 

Remaining mindful of your surroundings, you slowly approach the edge of the bed. Squinting in the darkness, you try to study the body laid out atop your comforter. Watching the steady rise-and-fall of their chest, it suddenly hits you that, whoever they are, they’re asleep. 

Slinking around the corner and coming to stand at your bedside, you’re finally close enough that you can see them in spite of the absence of light. Crimson and blue spandex clings tightly to their arms as they cling one of your pillows to their chest, and you feel your entire body sag with relief as you loosen your grip on the bat. 

So this must be Peter 2. 

The fabric of his mask is bunched up and resting along the bridge of his nose, which is somewhat smushed against the pillow he’s holding, no doubt leaving him to breathe in the scent of laundry detergent and your perfume. 

Lower, you can make out the subtle contours of his jawline and the curve of soft, pink lips. Higher, you’re met with the impassive stare of then white lenses sewn into his mask. 

The lenses shield his eyes from your view, and a curious feeling begins to tug at the furthest corners of your mind. Take it off—it seems to whisper, compelling you to move in closer, your shins pressing against the side of the mattress—take it off. 

You grit your teeth and try to ignore the feeling, try to ignore the velvet-voice slithering through your mind; begging you to look at him, to touch him, to notice him, to-

Pain shoots along the side of your temple, likely in response to the sudden tightness in your jaw. It distracts you enough that you’re able to shake the strange feeling long enough to regain your focus—even if the remnants of it still linger. 

You shouldn’t be interested in him—you should be pissed at him. 

Not only had he broken into your house, which was already bad enough, but he had also climbed into your bed and made himself cozy! The absolute gall, the audacity he must have, has you allowing the tiniest sliver of rage to ignite inside of you. 

Both hands still gripping the bat, you lower it from where it rests against your shoulder to swiftly jab its head into his stomach. 

A cough sputters past his lips as the impact pushes the air from his lungs. 

You’re actually shocked that you landed the blow—in truth, you had expected his spider-sense to kick in and detect the incoming hit, waking him with just enough time to dodge the shot. But, apparently, his instincts had made the mistake of assuming that you were of no threat to him. 

“Morning sunshine,” you chime, your feigned cheerfulness set off by a sneer. 

He’s scrambling into an upright position, knees sinking into the mattress as he presses a hand against the sore spot you’d created on his stomach. “What the fu-” 

His voice is hoarse—from sleep or pain, you’re not sure—and he doesn’t finish the curse spewing from his mouth once his head shoots up towards you, as if finally registering the sound of your voice. 

“I don’t know what things are like in your world,” you muse, swinging your bat back to rest against your shoulder, “but in this one, breaking and entering is considered a crime.” 

He’s still catching his breath, and while those damn white lenses covering his eyes give so little emotion away, you assume that he’s going to apologize. It’s what Peter would do, and Parker, too. 

But not him. 

“Your friends said I could stay here,” he defends himself. Taking another deep breath and extinguishing the burning in his lungs, the lower-half of his face transforms into a defiant smirk. “It’s not breaking and entering if you were invited.” 

“And did they tell you to sleep in my bed, too?” You shoot back, brows rising in annoyance. “Word of advice: next time you’re invited to stay in a total stranger’s house, maybe try not to repay their kindness by crawling through their window.” 

He mocks you without missing a beat, “Word of advice: you live in a shitty neighborhood—if you don’t want people coming through your windows, you should try locking them.” 

“Ah, right! Cause the average person is definitely willing to scale the side of a building for the prospect of an unlocked window!” 

“You’re a pretty girl in a dangerous city,” he drones, lifting a shoulder as he meets your sarcasm with purposeful calm. “You’d be surprised what people would be willing to do for a chance at getting you alone.” 

The insinuation sends a shiver down your spine, but you mask your unease, flashing a smile that’s more predatory than sweet. “Aw,” you coo, “so you think I’m pretty?” 

He returns the expression, skillfully avoiding your derisive question. “I think you’re irresponsible—and a little cocky.” 

“Better to be cocky than a felon,” you remark. “Just spare my neighbors the acrobatics show next time, would you? Maybe try knocking on the door like a normal person! Preferably when you’re not dressed like… that.” 

It’s not that his suit wasn’t nice, because it was. But it lacks the advanced Stark-tech that makes Peter’s suit so uniquely sleek, meaning that it was likely safe to assume that no one in this world would mistake this boy for the real Spider-Man. 

Unless they were to catch him scaling up the side of your building… 

“I tried knocking.” he sounds exasperated, as if you are testing his patience. “You weren’t home.” 

You snort a laugh, wondering if he truly believes that is all the reason he needs to break into someone's home. 

“Then you should’ve waited until I got home,” 

“I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. I was too tired to wait.” 

“Then you should’ve slept in the alleyway with the rest of the strays,” you hiss at him, fingers tightening around the bat as your frustration builds. 

The sheer ferocity in your voice gives him pause, stunning him into silence. 

Then the corner of his mouth begins to twitch upwards, lazily grinning at you as if he actually enjoys the verbal onslaught. 

You can tell that he’s watching you through those white lenses, and his tongue darts over his bottom lip, you feel your breath catch in your throat. “Fine,” amusement dances in his tone as he raises his gloved hands, “fair enough.” 

For a moment, no sound comes from your parted lips, leaving you to stand there gaping at him until you remember how to speak. “Fair enough?” You echo, shaking your head slightly. “That’s all you’ve got? No apology?” 

He moves, forcing you to take a step back as he shoves his legs over the side of the bed and rises to his feet. He’s not as tall as Parker, but he still stands an inch or so higher than you, making it hard to not feel intimidated as he stares down at you, your own face staring back from the reflection of his lenses. 

“Better not push your luck, Spitfire,” 

He’s baiting you—he has to be! Using a stupid nickname to get under your skin, to try and prod further at your short temper. And it’s working—god, you hate how much it’s working!—because you find yourself contemplating putting his superhuman durability to the test by whacking him over the head with your bat. 

“By the way,” he says before you have a chance to act on your intrusive thoughts, pointing at your hands, “you’re bleeding.” 

As if his words switch a flip in your head, you’re suddenly aware of the acute throbbing in your palm. You loosen your grip on the bat, letting it clatter recklessly to the floor as you hold your hand out to examine it. 

Unsurprisingly, the rubber handle managed to tear open the barely-healed cut on your palm, courtesy of your too-tight grip on it. You hiss through your teeth, watching as blood oozed from the cut, dripping down towards your wrist. 

Slipping past you, the boy only half-manages to stifle his laugh. “You should probably take care of that.” 

He’s already slipping out into the hall by the time you regain enough awareness to follow after him, gritting your teeth against the pain. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” 

“To the other room,” he calls over his shoulder. Once he’s standing in front of Parker’s door, he spins back around to face you, his snarky expression still in-tact. “Where I’m hoping you won’t follow me.” 

Everything about him causes your blood to boil—his grating voice, his insolent attitude, his stupid soft lips. 

“Would it kill you to be nice to me?” You exclaim, your voice strained with pain as you try to wrap your hand in the lower half of your shirt. 

It takes no-time for blood to start seeping through the thin material, and you certainly don’t look intimidating like this—the lower half of your abdomen on display as you try to apply whatever pressure you can to the wound—but you don’t care. 

“I don’t have to let you and Parker stay in my house—I’m doing it because I’m nice, alright? And, so far, you’ve been nothing but a dick!” 

The thin fabric of his mask shifts, brows furrowing at the mention of Parker. Unlike Peter, however, he doesn’t bother commenting on the nickname. “Nice isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe you. Especially since you’re the one calling me names.” 

The levity in his tone makes you want to scream—what was his deal?! 

You press harder against your bleeding palm, your breathing turning shallow. You’re not sure if it’s frustration or pain or what, but you feel like your head is spinning. “Look, I don’t know you, alright? But this? Isn’t gonna work,” you bark at him, chin lifted defiantly as you stare into his mask, unrelenting. “If you plan on staying in my house, then you’ll get your shit together—got it?” 

His head tilts, curiously watching as you continue your frantic speech. 

“No crawling in through my windows or sleeping in my bed or smarting shit off! And take off that stupid mask!” You huff, shaking your head. “Or, I don’t know, pull it down the rest of the way! Just do something because you look stupid like that!” 

The words are spewing from your mouth like a torrential downpour, fueled by the rage swirling in your stomach and the throbbing in your hand and—

He laughs, a genuine laugh that isn’t born of derision, and you feel your racing thoughts slow to a halt. “You should work on your insults,” reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs his mask off. “Because that was pathetic.” 

It’s no longer just your thoughts that have slowed, but the entire world. Everything around you feels like it has come skidding to a stop—leaving you staring up at him like a dumbfounded idiot. 

He’s beautiful—a commonality among Peter’s variants, it seems. 

He’s smirking, an infuriatingly charming smirk that lets you know he has no intention of listening to your demands for him to silence his quick wit. But you’re not focusing on that—no, you’re focusing on the features that had been hidden from you this whole time; his dark hair, tousled from removing his mask, falls in a chaotic halo around his face, contrasting the vibrance of his eyes. 

His eyes. 

They leave you breathless, and you hate it. Colored with the deepest cerulean you’ve ever seen, his eyes feel like staring into the depths of a crystalline ocean. You can almost feel yourself getting swept up in their tides, feel them enveloping you in a feeling of familiarity, as if this wasn’t the first time you had been pulled into their ebbing waters. 

“Have we–” your mouth has gone dry, your voice cracking. “Have we met before?” 

It’s a ridiculous question, and you recognize that even as it’s spilling from your lips. You couldn’t have met him before—not when the two of you weren’t even from the same universe! 

He seems to be thinking the same thing, and you’re already preparing to take the full force of whatever smartass comment he’s about to fling at you. “I’ve met you,” he says simply, taking you by surprise. Then he inclines his head towards your still-bleeding hand, “You should patch yourself up before you stain the carpet.” 

You look down at your hand, at the hem of your shirt, soaked in blood. 

“But just so I know,” you look back up, his body half-turned towards the door, his fingers resting against the knob, “if Peter and Parker are already taken, then who does that make me?” 

You have to force yourself to take a breath. “What did I call you in your world?” He’s silent for a moment, staring at the floor and chewing on his lip. Then, pushing the door to Parker’s room—their room—open, he smiles.

“Pete.”

a/n - ayyy, pete's finally here! and, ofc, lots of other little important details sprinkled around as well.

also, i really wanna say thank you to everyone who has been reading and enjoying this story so far! it truly means the world to me to read all of the nice comments and to know that you guys are interested in this story! so, again, thank you 💖 as always, please comment/like/reblog and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

part four, titled "blooms of subterfuge", to be released april 29th

#peter parker imagine #no way home imagine #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fic #peter parker one shot #mcu imagine #spiderman imagine #spiderman fanfiction #andrew!peter imagine #tom!peter imagine #tobey!peter imagine #tom!peter x reader #andrew!peter x reader #tobey!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman fic #peter parker #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #andrew garfield #tobey maguire #tom holland #spiderman headcanon #spiderman imagines #tasm imagine #tasm imagines #raimiverse imagine

[angelltheninth]

smut bimbo!reader and Logan Howlett . he would be so mean

You're so right Anon, he'd be so mean in the best way possible.

Pairing: Logan "Wolverine" Howlett x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, dumbification, rough sex, growling, dirty talk, cockdrunk!Reader

A/N: I don't know who's gonna be the next Wolverine but they better deliver on the feral, cocky energy.

He would be teasing you so much, thumbing at your pretty clit while his cum spills from your cunt

"Fucked so much and ya need more. I want to say I'm surprised but I'd be lyin' to ya sweetheart." Logan smirked down at you, his recovery period nearly nonexistent when you're behaving like such a bimbo

You lean forward and grab his cock, rubbing the cum over the swollen, red tip, the empty sensation between your legs driving you crazy

When you can't take it anymore you angle the tip to your entrance, Logan doesn't do anything, just watches on in amusement as you push down, taking his cock until its all the way in

"Good job darlin'." He presses your clit as his hips surge forward, his heavy balls slapping against you, "Now its my turn. Gotta make my bitch happy, lest she go to someone else."

He was just saying that, you knew he didn't really think you'd go to someone else, not with the way he fucks you

Still you couldn't help but tighten your walls around him, "'M not goin' anywhere when you're like this. I'll fuck ya into next week, just say the words. Prove that your brain still works."

Rushed pleas fall from your mouth one after another, your legs twitching as they try to wrap around Logan's hips only to fall open again when he thrusts his cock back in

"That's my good bitch." Satisfied with your babbling he leans down to your breasts and starts to kiss and bite as the softness there, his teeth marks leaving an imprint on your skin

"Mine." Logan growled as you wrapped your arms around his head, holding him close as he emptied his seed into you again, marking you as his good bitch as he put it

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x female reader #xmen x reader #xmen smut #xmen x female reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine imagines #wolverine fanfiction #marvel smut #marvelsmut #mcu smut #avengers smut #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #marvel imagines #avengers x reader #marvel x fem!reader #mcu x female reader #marvel x female reader #x female reader

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Hi there ! Can I request Natasha Romanoff x reader smut? I thought maybe Natasha x virgin!reader first time OR it can just be Nat’s and reader’s first time. (Please make it super soft🥺🥺)

Okay but anon that idea is literally so cute wtf 😖💗 this is shorter than I intended it to be but I hope you enjoy it regardless 

Sidenote: mалыш means baby in Russian (to the best of my knowledge) 

Taking It Slow (Natasha Romanoff x reader)

Warnings: SMUT, afab reader, reader is a virgin, oral sex (reader receiving), mention of a safeword (although it's never used), soft top Natasha, bottom reader 

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" 

Natasha's brow was furrowed with concern as she leaned over you on the bed, gently brushing your hair from your face. 

"Yeah, I'm sure." You looked up into her loving eyes, knowing she would take care of you. "Just...take it slow, okay?" 

"Of course, mалыш." She pressed a soft and loving kiss to your lips before working her way down the rest of your body. Your jawline, neck, collarbone, none of it went untouched. She kept going until she got down to your thighs, where she settled herself between them. 

"If at anytime you want me to stop, just let me know, okay? Do you remember our safeword?" 

You nodded your head yes, to which Natasha clicked her tongue at you. "Honey, I need verbal confirmation if you want this to happen." 

"Yeah, I remember it," you said, anticipation building. 

"Good. Use it whenever you want to stop, okay? I don't want your first experience to be an uncomfortable one." 

"Okay, I will." 

Satisfied with your response, she began leaving kisses on the inside of your thigh. Occasionally you felt her nip at your skin, a sign that she was gently marking you up, leaving hickeys wherever her mouth would go. 

You sighed contentedly before letting out a series of soft moans as she moved her mouth from your thighs to your glistening pussy. She pressed gentle kisses on the sensitive area, and you could feel her smirk against your skin when you let out a sudden gasp at her lips moving up to your clit. 

She was toying with you, and you knew it; but you loved it regardless. 

You felt as she pressed feather light kisses to your clit, giving you just enough friction to feel it but not nearly enough to be able to properly get you off. 

As much as you wanted to grind up against her face, you knew you had to remain patient if you wanted to be able to truly enjoy this. You had waited this long, surely you could wait a little bit longer. Still, Natasha no longer teasing you and just getting on with it would certainly be nice.

"Nat, please." You whined, your hand going to rest on her head lightly. 

"Oh, sweetheart." She peered up at you from between your legs, a visible smirk on her face. "I suppose I have been teasing you a little too much, huh? Let me fix that." 

Before you could ask her what she meant by that, you felt her move her tongue along your already wet folds, eliciting a moan from you so loud your neighbors could definitely hear it.

At least she wasn't teasing you anymore, but that still meant you had a long night ahead of you. 

Likes < reblogs | PLEASE REBLOG if you like what you read

Main masterlist | MCU masterllist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube @gilmore-angel @xxromanoffxx @your-next-daydream @whistle1whistle @alexxavicry @elenavampire21 @truthindreams-blog1 @the-nightowl-blr @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @defstr8bl0nd13 (if you were crossed out it means I couldn't tag you for some reason)

#marvel #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel fic #mcu #mcu imagines #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #mcu fic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fic #marvel smut #mcu smut #natasha romanoff smut #afab reader

[yourloverfromthepast]

Y/n, during an interview: I really do love working with the Avengers, we all get along, have a great relationship and- we just fully accept and comprehend each other, you know what I mean?

*Earlier that day*

Y/n: FUCK OFF TONY, I'M NOT WORKING WITH YOU, EVER AGAIN.

Tony: OKAY GREAT, BECAUSE YOU'RE FIRED.

Y/n: OH I'M FIRED? NO I'M NOT, BECAUSE I RESIGN FIRST.

Tony: WHAT? YOU CANNOT RESIGN AFTER I FIRED YOU-

Y/n: LALALALALA I AM NOT HEARING WHAT YOU'RE SAYING. OOOH SWEET PEPPEEER, DO YOU WANT A FIANCÉ WHO'S NOT A RAGING CUNT???

Tony: I am gonna fucking kILL THIS LITTLE BASTARD-

*Natasha, Steve and Thor, trying to hold him down*

Bruce: *clicks his tongue* Please Clint, remind me what happened?

Clint: In a few words: they ate the last donut. He got angry.

Bruce: ...over...over a fucking donut?

#marvel #marvel x you #marvel x reader #incorrect marvel quotes #mcu imagine #mcu imagines #avengers fanfiction #mcu incorrect quotes #the avengers #the avengers x reader #tony stark incorrect quotes #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel cinematic universe #incorrect mcu quotes #marvel imagine #the avengers incorrect quotes #incorrect avengers #incorrect quotes marvel #avengers incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #marvel memes #gn!reader

[gay-dorito-dust]

Adam had never known someone to have unwavering patience like you had.

No question or inquiry Adam had was deemed too absurd nor too dumb for you to answer whilst also giving him the room for him to come up with his own verdicts based on his personal experiences.

However there was something that still eludes the seemingly perfect being and that happened to be the emotions he felt within your presence that only seemed to linger long after you were out of his sight; Which in due to his need to look out and protect you from practically everything he deemed a threat, was almost nigh impossible.

Adam wasn’t exactly certain what they meant in the grander scheme of things but in those moment where it’s just you and him, he couldn’t help but put all his focus on how you made him feel and it was confusing in the most beautiful way. You took up a majority of his thoughts that throughout the day Adam would wonder what you were doing, where you were and if you were okay, if you were with anyone and finally Adam would wonder if there was a slight possibility that you were thinking about him also.

Sure, it may sound childish of him to wish that you were, but to Adam it would only further prove that you may be fated to one another. The thought of that being the case brought a weird warm sensation that of which spread throughout his body as he rested his hand against his chest, while he looked down at it with the expression of a confused child; Adam was in dire need of your wisdom but unfortunately by the time he came to you for it, you were more then just about ready to hit the hay.

‘Y/n, I apologise for the intrusion but I have an serious matter I wish to discuss with you that can not wait, if you’ll be so kind as to hear me out.’ You sighed, really wanting nothing more then to go to sleep but but considering the look upon his handsome face, you made an exception. You sat on the edge of your bed, gesturing him to take a seat beside you, which Adam did post haste, remembering to leave some room between you both. ‘What’s up Adam, what did you want to discuss?’ You asked.

‘How do you know when you feel something so strongly for someone that they just take over your every thought and what is is called because I’ve been feeling this way for a while now and I’m at a loss as to what to make of it all.’ Adam says, looking at you expectedly like he always did; He was always one to value knowledge above all things, seeing as he was already quite powerful. Yet you couldn’t help but wonder whether or not you had something to do with these feelings he’s been feeling so strongly lately; Considering you were practically the only person he’s been within the company of, to the point where it has became a running gag amongst your friends that where’d you went, Adam wasn’t too far behind like a lost duckling.

‘What is it that you feel Adam, is it a good feeling or a bad feeling that you have about this person?’ You asked.

‘They’re on my mind as though my mind was built with the sole purpose of thinking of them and only them,’ Adam begins but as he does so, a smile stretched across his lips as a soft expression permeates his face. ‘From the light of the morning to nightfall, I’m wondering where they are, worried if they were in need of me but I just can’t hear them, can’t be there with them when they need me most, and mostly…I wonder if they think about me as much as I think about them because they are very special to me…so much so that I couldn’t fathom existing without them.’ Adam finishes before placing his hand over your own. ‘You are very special to me y/n. You’re the one I think about.’

Having already expected this being the case, you still were somehow taken aback but that was short lived compared to the overwhelming relief that your feelings weren’t as one sided as you assumed. You smiled softly at Adam before intertwining your fingers with his, grasping into him tightly, as though afraid of letting him go now that you got him. ‘You’re feeling love Adam.’ You explained. ‘And love is the most powerful, most important feeling you could ever feel because it comes in all forms, all of which are just as equally powerful as the last. It’s an all consuming feeling that can make one act upon irrational but sometimes acting upon that irrationality does one good but at the end of the day, love is a power that has yet to meet it’s match.’ You finalised, hoping to have gotten the point across clear enough for him to understand.

Adam made a face and sat in silence for a few minutes and once those minutes were up, the smile and soft expression came back as he once again looked at you as though he could see all of you. ‘Does this feeling mean that I am in love with you?’ He asks. ‘And do you feel the same way?’ He adds on almost hopefully that you couldn’t help but chuckle before leaning in to press an innocent kiss to his golden cheek. ‘Was that enough confirmation?’ You inquired as you watched Adam blink twice as he raised a hand to touch the cheek you just kissed.

‘It’s more then enough.’ He tells you. ‘Thank you.’

#adam warlock x reader #adam warlock x you #Adam warlock imagine #Adam warlock imagines #mcu x y/n #mcu imagine #mcu fic #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #mcu x you #marvel fic #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel x you #marvel imagines #marvel fanfic

[heliads]

I’d like to request a Pietro imagine. Pietro survived and became an Avenger. The female reader doesn’t have powers and isn’t an Avenger. She’s really smart and works with Tony and Bruce in the lab. She was hired after the whole Ultron fiasco. People underestimated her intelligence in high school and college because she’s a girly girl and loves the colour pink, but the Avengers aren’t like that. Pietro likes her and wants to date her.

'waiting around' - pietro maximoff

masterlist

When they tell Pietro he has to go to the labs, his first thought is to run.

He knows it’s silly. These are not the same doctors who made the Maximoff twins strong and fast and utterly alone in this world, these are the scientists with the Avengers. They’re the good guys. Apparently. But Pietro has learned fairly quickly that people calling themselves good aren’t always good in the end.

Pietro has a lot of learning to do since he and Wanda escaped Ultron a few months back. He’s doing his best to be patient and take things ‘one step at a time,’ as the Americans keep telling him. Mainly, he would like their steps to be faster. Pietro has things to do, and they don’t usually involve waiting in line for someone else to decide if he’s worthy of their loyalty or not. The Avengers are trying, he knows that. It’s just hard sometimes.

Especially when Pietro is still trying to shake off the feeling that he should have died back in Sokovia. He came away with his share of narrow escapes, but there was one moment towards the end, when the ships were firing at him, when Clint needed his help, that Pietro thought would be his last. Luckily, he was faster than a few bullets, but there’s still this nagging voice in the back of Pietro’s subconscious that whispers to him late at night:  what if you hadn’t been fast enough?

So he’s been uneasy as of late. What about it? Stress is common in inhumans and Avengers, one glance around this coffee-dependent complex could tell him that. Still, it’s a good thing to get checked out. That’s part of the reason Pietro is being directed to the labs, along with a need for a good annual physical.

It sounds good, too, were it not for the fact that Pietro has had plenty of experience with laboratories in the past few years and none of it was good. The Hydra labs made him strong, in a sense, but they were torturous. He can still remember the pile of corpses ushered out every day, the experiments that failed. He remembers curling up in a corner of his cell, begging his body not to give out, not to make him another body in a bag. He lived, but he remembers.

This is not Hydra. Pietro knows that. He left them behind. Still, there will always be some part of him that shrinks away from every syringe, that distrusts every doctor who comes poking and prodding at the bizarre novelty that is an inhuman. That will never go away, no matter who’s side he’s on.

Still, the lab remains. He has to go in, the others will know if he doesn’t. At first, Pietro hesitates just outside the door, afraid to knock, afraid to listen. There was always a chill in the air throughout the Hydra complex, he remembers the gooseflesh forever on his skin. Signs that nothing good happened within the walls. Or maybe it was just because of the stone buildings in cold climates. Everything has an explanation.

He can’t back out now. Pietro grits his teeth and swings the door open in one broad movement. For a moment, he stands there, waiting to walk back into his old cell, his old life, and then he looks around and realizes with a grin that he’s going to be fine. This isn’t a Hydra ploy to get him back under their thumb. For one thing, Hydra never used this much pink. Just barren walls and gloomy, monstrous skull logos. In retrospect, that should have been a bad sign. Pietro has a problem with ignoring details, though, and it tends to get him in trouble.

These details, however, are quite difficult to be ignored. Everywhere Pietro looks, he sees pinpricks of pink– the handle of a pipette, labels on equipment, notebooks full of scrawled data points, hair ties in a carefully organized container. No, Hydra never had this much fun, and Pietro is starting to think that this is going to be very fun indeed.

Smirking to himself, Pietro weaves further through the lab. He sees a few assistants scurrying around in the back, but they pay him no mind so he does the same. Pietro almost reaches the end of the room when a sudden voice calls out to him:  “Don’t take another step.”

Instantly, Pietro freezes. The owner of the voice walks towards him, a young woman about his age in a lab coat. She must be the owner of the lab, too, because he spots a pink tie in her hair matching the others near the door. The name stitched onto the left breast pocket of her lab coat reads Dr. Y/N L/N, so Pietro knows she’s the one he was supposed to find.

She points to Pietro’s feet, where he notices are just touching a line of caution tape on the ground. “If you went any further, you’d be at risk of getting your eyes blinded by the lasers,” she informs him cheerfully.

Pietro’s face drops. Only now does he notice the hazard signs. “Huh. Guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

Y/N arches a brow. “Do you always wander around lab space without watching where you’re going? Seems like an awfully dangerous habit for me.”

Pietro grins. “Well, I usually rely on my reflexes to get me out of trouble. I’m pretty quick.”

To prove it, he uses his speed to instantly move right behind the woman. She spins around, donning an indignant look that Pietro decides is very cute. “Don’t do that,” she scolds him.

Pietro folds his arms across his chest, grin broadening. “Why not?”

“I’ll tell Steve you’d like to do some weight training with him in the gym, and you think you can outlift him,” she threatens.

Pietro feigns surrender. “Anything but that, please.”

At last, Y/N’s lips twitch up into a smile. “That’s what I thought you’d say. Now, let’s focus. Tony sent you in to get a checkup, right?”

Pietro nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Wrong,” she tells him. “Tony actually sent you in here to get on my nerves. He does that a lot. I’m busy and he likes distracting me. We’re going to get through this as quickly as possible, alright?”

Pietro has to fight not to laugh. “And here I thought everyone in the labs gets along.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Most of the time, yes. Except when he sticks me with babysitting duty.”

“This isn’t babysitting,” Pietro protests, “I’m getting to know you. I already feel like we’re the best of friends.”

Something that might be a smile flits across Y/N’s face, but she takes great pains to hide it to him. Pietro, who has always cared a little too much about getting people to laugh at his jokes, follows her like a dog as she walks through her lab. “You can laugh, you know. It won’t kill you.”

The smile is gone as quickly as it appeared, and Pietro instantly wishes he hadn’t said a word. “I’m working right now,” she tells him abruptly. “That means I’m focused. Don’t get in my way.”

Surprised and somewhat hurt by her shift in mood, Pietro goes quiet, but he can’t resist asking a second later, “I’m not trying to interfere with your work, I promise. Does that often happen?”

Y/N goes still. Pietro is half expecting her to just ignore him when she finally speaks at last, very quiet and very unlike the fiery personality he’d seen before. “Every time someone new comes in here. And with half the people I’ve already met, anyway. You’d be surprised what a few pink accessories can do to someone’s reputation, and their credibility in a lab.”

Pietro grimaces. “I’m sorry about that, honest. That’s not what I was going for, by the way. I joke with everyone.”

At last, Y/N meets his eyes. There’s a faint tint of humor swimming in her gaze. “I think I got that.”

She’s smiling, though, so he takes that as a good sign. Once that initial barrier was crossed, Y/N opens up a little more, and then Pietro finds himself stopping by her lab almost every day when he’s not off on a mission. He sees her thrilled with success after an experiment worked, and desolate when they don’t. He sees her consumed with stress. He sees her brow knit with careful concern as she patches him up after a mission. Through all of it, Pietro is increasingly risky with his heart, and then one day, he knows he loves her.

It’s a foolish thing to do. Y/N has confided in him many times that she’s afraid people only will see her as a girl first and a researcher second, someone who can be taken out for drinks but never a valid source of knowledge. If he makes his move now, she’ll never forgive him for being just like the others.

So he doesn’t say a thing, and descends further and further into hopelessness. Wanda says he’s ridiculously obvious, but Y/N still doesn’t seem to have noticed a thing, so maybe the only person more oblivious than Pietro is Y/N, and that’s saying something. Pietro doesn’t want to ruin their friendship, but as the days slip by and Pietro only falls more in love with her, he wonders if he hasn’t already ruined it by always wanting more than he can have.

He’s starting to wonder if he is simply going to carry this secret with him forever, until Y/N catches him at it one evening. The night is growing late, and Pietro has retreated to one of his favorite hiding places in the Avengers complex, Y/N’s lab, to watch her conduct her experiments and indulge in some idle chatter. They’ve grown quiet, and Pietro is leaning against a benchtop, doing nothing but watch her. Some of the motion-sensor lights in the corners of the lab have gone off from inactivity, giving the lights above them an extra glow. The light plays upon Y/N’s face and makes her eyes shine.

Pietro is just thinking that he’s never seen someone more beautiful in his entire life when Y/N looks up and catches him in the act. Instantly, Pietro pretends as if he’d simply been watching her pipette some samples into the well plates in front of her, but her brow is already furrowing and she’s asking him what’s wrong.

Pietro shrugs elaborately. “Nothing, nothing. Just thinking.”

“Really?” She asks, grinning slightly. “I didn’t think that was a normal thing to you.”

Pietro rolls his eyes. “Very funny.”

“I thought so,” Y/N hums. “What were you thinking about? You seemed very preoccupied.”

“Nothing,” Pietro repeats, but Y/N doesn’t seem convinced.

“Come on, I didn’t think we were the type to keep secrets from each other. What are you trying to hide?” Y/N asks.

Pietro scratches the back of his head, suddenly awkward. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Even better,” she says, laughing slightly. “What is it?”

Pietro should stay silent, but he can feel the secret rising up his lungs and forcing itself out before he gets the chance. “I’m in love with you,” he blurts out.

Y/N’s eyes widen. Whatever she was expecting him to say, it obviously wasn’t that. “Oh,” she says quietly.

“Yeah,” Pietro says, wanting to stab himself in the eye with a nearby multitool. “Oh.”

He eyes the door, and has just decided that a strategic retreat is the best move when Y/N interjects, “I love you too, you know.”

Pietro turns around so hastily that he almost upsets a nearby rack of micropipettes. “What? You do?”

She’s glancing at her work, but he can tell that she’s embarrassed. “Yeah. Thought you knew.”

“Obviously I didn’t, or I would have done something about it,” Pietro blurts out.

Y/N glances up again, smiling again. “Like what?”

“Like take you out on a date,” Pietro returns. “How about it? This Friday. Seven. I’ll pick you up.”

Y/N laughs. “That sounds good to me.”

It sounds good to Pietro, too. When he leaves Y/N’s lab at the end of the day, he’s practically giddy. All this time, he was afraid of telling her, and now he’s wishing he spilled his guts much earlier. Regardless, he has what he wants. They’ll have their date, and Pietro is going to feel like he’s on top of the world.

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

marvel tag list: @mayfieldss, @blondsauduun, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver, @alex-1967s-blog, @crazyhearttragedy, @faerieroyal

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff imagines #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff oneshot #quicksilver #quicksilver imagines #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver oneshot #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel x reader #marvel oneshot #mcu #mcu imagines #mcu x reader #mcu oneshot #avengers #avengers imagines #avengers x reader #avengers oneshot

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

33 with Peter

33. soft kisses while cuddling in bed

—

May had a night shift at the hospital last night, so Peter invited you for a sleepover. You weren’t doing anything sneaky, though. May knew. Peter always invited you over when she was had a night shift. He didn’t like being alone in the apartment for a full night — even superheroes have fears.

You and Peter decided to make today a slow morning and stay in bed for as long as possible. It was gloomy and dark outside, which was a perfect excuse to stay in. 

You quietly talked about everything and nothing while cuddling in bed — and sharing a few soft kisses.  

''Why did you fall for me?'' Peter asked out of the blue, insecurity lacing his voice. ''I mean, you could’ve had a much better guy than me.'' 

''Well, I tried messaging Robert Pattinson on Instagram, but he never responded,'' you joked, but Peter wasn’t in a laughing mood. 

''I’m being serious, Y/N... You’re so beautiful and intelligent and caring and generous and funny and— and I’m just...me. Plain old Peter who loves Star Wars and never gets invited to parties.''

Peter had P.E. yesterday, so you guessed Brad or Flash must’ve said something in the locker room. About you and Peter. They always played with Peter’s brain out of jealousy and it disgusted you. 

You reached up and cupped Peter’s face gently, looking right into his deep brown eyes, catching the tinge of sadness into them. ''Do you want to know why I like you, Peter?'' He didn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue. ''You’re kind,'' you said, tracing the line of his eyebrow with your other hand. ''Courageous.'' You dragged your finger over his cheekbone. ''Selfless.'' Then, up the shell of his ear and taking a piece of his curly hair and twirling it around your finger, you eyes still gazing into his. ''And always make me laugh with your witty remarks and nerdy references. You're the coolest person I've ever met and you don't even have to try.''

''I try really hard, actually,'' Peter admitted. 

You leaned down to kiss him, but Peter’s phone went off, its ringtone echoing loudly in the bedroom and disturbing your moment. 

''Don’t pick up,'' you begged. 

''I have to. It might be Mr. Stark.'' 

He sat up, but you clung onto him, trying to keep him in bed. ''He’ll leave a message. You can call him back later.'' 

Knowing Tony would just keep calling until Peter would answered, he easily slid from your hold and reached onto his nightstand for his phone. 

Peter's eyed widened in panic. This was worse than Mr. Stark. ''It’s May. She forgot her keys and she's outside. I have to go unlock the door for her.''

—

Marvel taglist: @xenasolos @chrizzierbsstuff @ayamenimthiriel @alina02 @turtleshavesoulmates @staygoldsquatchling02 @daemonslittlebitch  @wetwilliam02 @haileyismoo @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @mxxny-lupin  @sweeterheartxamerica @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @arunaposeidondottie @liidiaaag @katsukis1wife  @amithesimpoffandoms  @acornacreacure @chaotic-fangirl-blog  @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @youdontneedtoknowthisinformation  @aabananaa @starrrslove  @angeliod

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #mcu!peter parker #mcu imagines #old draft #tom!peter parker x reader #tom!peter parker #tom!spiderman

[loganbcrnes]

Frank Castle who is inside you before you can even wake up, whispering things like "I'm sorry baby you just looked so good I couldn't help myself" as he thrusts inside you without giving you a chance to adjust to being stretched out around him >>>

#please i need him so bad #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #the punisher #the punisher smut #the punisher x reader #jon bernthal #marvel smut #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #mcu smut #mcu imagines #marvel fanfiction #frank castle x you

[haileygarciasunshine]

Grump

Pairing: Established!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,009

Warnings: None

Summary: The reader who is normally the sunshine one of the bunch, has a grumpy day.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

An over exaggerated groan echoed off the gym walls. Letting out an angered huff, you tossed your head back squeezing your eyes shut as best as you could. Sweat rolled down your back, as the upbeat music playing through the loud speakers bounced around in your head.

Letting out a long sigh, you decided to plop down on the ground in attempt to self sooth. The soft sound of someone approaching, could faintly be heard.

"You okay, babe?"

Natasha. Of course, your best friend would know something was off kilter with you, the second she set foot in the gym. Picking at the skin around your finger nails, you were silently seething. Without looking up, you responded.

"Fine." Your voice harsh, causing her to flinch.

"Are you-"

Letting out a heavy sigh, you rolled your eyes with a slight huff, bringing your knees to your chest.

"Yes." You cut her off bluntly. "I'm sure."

As you continued staring into the void, you missed the flash of concern pass along Natasha's features. With a frown, she joined you on the ground. Knowing her, you knew there would be follow up probing.

"No, Nat." You sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."

Since the moment you woke up, things hadn't gone your way. Your apartment complex had no hot water, the first shirt you had on, you had somehow smeared jam on it. On your commute to the compound you had stepped in gum, slightly smacked your head on the subway door. Above all you had gotten cursed out by many of the subway riders for various reasons.

"I didn't say anything." She spoke softly.

Turning your gaze to her, you gave her a knowing look. "You don't have to." You raised an eyebrow. "I know you."

Her features softened at the thought of the close friendship you had forged.

Rolling your eyes, you got up and stomped your way out of the gym, deciding to try and find something to snack on, so you ventured toward the kitchen. Which happened to be a mistake.

"Well, there she is!" Sam's voice sing-songed through the kitchen. "Where have you been Sunshine!"

Letting out a quiet growl, you didn't bother acknowledging the new Captain America. Rather, you made a beeline for the stocked pantry. While doing so, you missed the look of concern shared between Sam and Bucky.

"Sunshine?" Bucky's gentle voice called.

You hummed in response not bothering to turn around. Feeling anger radiating off of you.

Bucky and Sam exchanged another concerned gaze.

Sitting up straighter, bucky quietly cleared his throat. "Sweetheart?"

Letting your shoulders sag, you dropped your head down, letting out an annoyed sigh. "Yes, James?"

Both Sam and Bucky flinched at your tone and odd behavior.

"Y/N-" Sam began.

Immediately, you huffed, snapping your head up, turning quick on your heels to face both men, crossing your arms along your chest, allowing your face to harden.

Both men swallowed hard, while their expressions were one of surprise, taken back at how you were reacting to them.

"Yes, Samuel?" You huffed. "What is it?"

Sam hesitated from where he sat at the kitchen table, gulping he widened his eyes, quickly glancing back at Bucky then back to you.

"Um-" He trailed off. "N-Nothing, sorry."

Growling, you upper lip turned into snarl. Rolling your eyes, you marched to the door, but before leaving you, turned one last time towards the guys.

"If either of you need me," You began. "Don't."

Once you exited the kitchen, you stomped and huffed your way to Bucky's bedroom. The slam from the door could be heard down the hall causing both men to startle and jump slightly from the sound.

"Dude." Sam started. "What is wrong with Sunshine?" He stared expectantly at Bucky.

Bucky returned the stare, with confusion etched on his features. "I don't know man."

"Well, don't just sit there!" Sam waved about. "Go to your girl!"

Immediately after the words had left Sam's mouth, Bucky was on his feet, out the door and racing towards your bedroom. As soon as he was outside the door, he stopped. His heart racing, as scenarios of everything that could be wrong course through his mind. Nervously, he wiped his palms on his jeans with a gulp. Calming himself down, he knocked on the door, softly calling out. "Sweetheart?"

No response.

Taking the silence as approval to enter, he did. Opening the door, he was met with the sight of a lump of blankets on his bed. Quietly, he opened the door, and slipped inside. Toeing off his shoes, he quickly made his way towards the bed. He lifted the edge of the blanket before slipping underneath.

He was greeted with a defeated set of eyes. Bucky let out a soft hum, before gently winding his arm around your waist, and snaking the other under your head. Tugging you close, to him, you burried your face in his chest. Your hands curling around his shirt, holding onto the soldier for dear life.

The room was filled with the soft sounds of your comfort show playing in the background. Bucky felt his shirt growing damp. Without a word, the arm under your head curled in a way that allowed him to gently pet your hair. As time passed, both of your eyes began growing heavy.

Before you knew it, you awoke without the knowledge of knowing you had fallen asleep. Pulling away from Bucky's chest, you gazed up at him. He was already awake staring at the wall. Sensing your attention on him, he shifted his eyes to gaze into yours.

"Bucky..." Your hoarse voice sounded quietly.

Bucky let out a gentle hum. Pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, he gently rubbed his against yours. "I know baby girl, I know."

Letting out a content sigh, you nodded with a soft smile, returning to your previous place in his chest.

As some time past, Bucky broke the silence. "I'm grumpy about stuff, but I don't want you to be sunshine."

Feed back is always appreciated! Requests are open! Join my taglist Here

Taglist:

@taeteddybear @rayofrivia @hybridgirl27 @winter107th @sophham

@simpy/n @prprincessotaku @multifandom_boss_bitch @eichenhouseproperty @miaacless @jessimay89 @a-lil-bit-nuts @beanbagbitch @st3rgirl @marigold-2002 @ladymorganalefey @itszero16 @mystic-writings @that1depressedkid123 @beth-gallagher22 @devilslilbabysblog @little-miss-naill @xoxwh0rexox @rottenstyx @lokikeepsstealingmyshit @nova1574

#buckybarnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x yn #gilmoregirls #imagines #imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #buckybarnesimagine #fanfic #bucky barnes fan fic #fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu imagines #oneshot #fandom #fandoms #sebastianstan #sebastian stan

[lnfours]

sideline (three) | t.h

summary -> tom holland: the name thats always floating around campus, and for good reason. he’s the captain of the hockey team, he’s good looking, and he’s always caught up in an off and on again relationship with the president of the sorority. that’s where you come in. you two had made a deal to make your exes jealous, but we all know how fake relationships end.

wc -> a rule breaking 2.5k

warnings -> fluff, jealous exes, and fluff. 

🎵 spotify playlist | 📖 prev/next chapter | 📂 masterlist

                                ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it was finally friday, the night of the first home hockey game. you were in the bathroom, trying desperately to curl the back of your head, but no luck. 

you huffed, “mia! can you come here real quick?!” 

your voice echoed, her footsteps being your sign that she heard you. she opened the door to your bedroom, walking into the small half bathroom. 

“what’s up?” she met your eyes in the mirror, cracking a smile at how distressed you look. 

“can you curl the back of my hair, please?” 

she smiled, holding her hand out for the curling wand. she sectioned your hair, grabbing a reasonably sized chunk before wrapping it around the barrel. 

“so,” she dragged the ‘o’, “you excited for tonight?”

you shrugged, “i suppose. would be nice to actually see tom play.”

“oh, i meant to ask,” she said, “but how did you two even start dating? was it the night of the party?”

you bit down on your bottom lip, “yeah, yeah. i guess we sorta kinda just clicked? i don’t really know how to explain it.”

she smiled, “i was just making sure this is something you really wanted. i mean, i know i’m one to talk, but with everything that happened with jack, i just want to make sure you’re okay.”

you smiled softly at her in the mirror, “i’m okay, i just want to move on and be happy again.”

“understandable,” she said, “what he did was so fucked up. he’s lucky i haven’t seen him yet because i will quite literally give him an ass whooping.”

you laughed, “i love you.”

she smiled back at you, “i love you, too,” she turned the curling wand off, placing it down on the sink before admiring her work, “and you’re all set, hot stuff.”

you smiled, “thanks.”

“i’m gonna go make sure sarah isn’t trying to leave the house with sweatpants on.” she said and you laughed as she made her way back down the steps. 

your phone buzzed on the counter, a message popping up on your screen. you grabbed the phone, plopping down on your stomach onto the mattress. 

tom dropped something off for you at your door see you soon :) 

you locked your phone before running down the steps, laughing as you heard sarah’s complaining about the outfit mia suggested she wore tonight. you opened the front door, a bag sitting on the carpet in the hallway. 

you grabbed it and shut the door, reading the sticky note that was plopped on top of whatever was inside the bag. 

fake girlfriend or not, there’s no one else i’d want wearing my last name tonight. 

the tickets are at the bottom, see you tonight :)  - tom 

you pulled out the black jersey, the stitching on the back reading tom’s last name and his number. you smiled, grabbing your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans. 

y/n thank you! i love it 

you slipped your phone back into your pocket, jogging up the stairs. you entered sarah’s room where mia was laying on the bed, smiling contently with her efforts on getting mia to dress up a little bit. you entered the room, your eyes immediately going wide at sarah’s outfit. 

“you look hot!” 

“see, told you,” mia said, throwing her hands up in the air, “wear the outfit!”

she was in a black turtleneck sweater tucked into the front of her light wash jeans that quite literally fit her like a glove. she wore a pair of black booties with them, with some light makeup on (courtesy of mia). 

sarah hardly ever got dressed up like this anymore, which she never really had to. she looked gorgeous either way. but ever since her and her ex boyfriend broke up, she’d lost the motivation to throw on cute outfits, just opting in on staying in sweats or pajamas all day. if there was a party, it was leggings, one of her comfort hoodies, and her beat up pair of converse that were now considered her ‘frat shoes’. 

you and mia both tried to get her back to being her confident, carefree self. but, it was hard. hard for all of you, especially sarah. at the end of the day, you both just wanted her happy again. 

“mia, this bra is suffocating my tits,” she said, tugging at the cups, “how the fuck do you wear this everyday?”

you both laughed, “you’ll get used to it.”

“what’s that, y/n?” mia asked, nodding towards the bag in your hand. you smiled, grabbing the material from the bag and holding it up for both the girls to see. 

“no way!”

“shut the fuck up!!”

you laughed, smiling, “i know, i know.”

“that’s so cute,” mia said, sticking her bottom lip out. sarah agreed, nodding her head as she put a hand over her heart. 

“finally, y/n finding someone who treats her right.”

you chuckled, fishing the tickets out of the bottom of the bag, “here’s our tickets. we should probably leave soon.”

“yes ma’am,” mia said, fakely saluting you.

sarah and you laughed, each of you departing to your own rooms to finish up getting ready and to grab your things. 

                               ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the arena was packed for the first home game filled with a bunch of parents and college kids hoping for their team to win. tom was nice enough to get you, mia and sarah seats right near the ice. 

“okay, can i just say, i love tom. i mean, look at these seats.”

you smiled over at sarah, “yeah, it was really nice of him.”

mia was looking around at the people near you, seeing if anyone else you guys knew showed up for the game. she immediately whipped her head back around to you, slapping your arm to get your attention. 

“jack’s here.”

there’s that nervous pit again. 

“wait, where?” sarah asked, moving to turn around in her seat. mia reached over you and grabbed her arm to stop. 

“don’t look at him! he’s a couple rows up.”

great.

your phone buzzed in your pocket, you fished it out and tapped on the message notification. 

tom hey, how're your seats? 

y/n they’re great! other than the fact that jack is a couple rows behind me but otherwise they’re great :) 

tom oh shit, i’m sorry i can have someone come get you and move you guys if you want

y/n no, no it’s okay 

you bit down on your bottom lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard. 

let’s just make him jealous, like we said we would

tom with pleasure.  see you after the game

y/n  good luck :) 

you locked your phone, mia turning to look at you, “you okay?”

you nodded, tucking a piece of hair away from your face, “yeah, actually. i am.”

it wasn’t a complete lie. sure, seeing jack was like a sucker punch to the gut, but you decided to not let it overpower you tonight. you were here with your best friends, supporting one of the nicest, funniest, caring guys you’ve ever met.

as the night went on, you and your friends cheered on tom’s team. he scored the winning goal and the arena erupted with cheers and applause. you, mia and sarah immediately jumped out of your seats, screaming and cheering as tom shrugged off his helmet and was hugged by his team. once everyone had calmed down, he skated over to your section, holding up a heart made out of his hands. you smiled, holding up one back. 

his subtle jab of rubbing it into jack’s face. smooth. 

once the arena cleared out, you let mia and sarah head back in mia’s car as you waited for tom. you were waiting in the lobby, scrolling on your phone trying to pass time.

“hey,” you heard a voice and looked up to see jack, “didn’t know you liked our hockey team.”

you slipped your phone into your pocket, clearing your throat, “uh, yeah. kinda getting back into liking hockey.”

he nodded, “yeah. i mean, sleeping with the captain of the team kinda helps, doesn’t it?”

you opened your mouth to speak, but felt a hand wrap around your waist. you were immediately enveloped in the scent of tom’s cologne. 

“hey, baby,” he said, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your cheek. you masked the surprise that ran through your body, smiling over at him as he looked over at jack, “sorry, didn’t catch your name, mate. you are?”

jack’s eyes narrowed on tom’s figure, “jack.”

“jack, i’m tom, nice to meet you.” he said, holding out his hand for him to shake. jack didn’t accept the handshake, but just shifted his gaze to you.

“didn’t you say jocks aren’t your type?” he asked, and eyebrow raised at you. 

“funny how we both said things we didn’t mean.” you spit back. he opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by his friends calling his name behind him. he rolled his eyes, turning around and walking towards his group. 

“pleasure was all mine, mate! see you later!” tom called back after him. you let a chuckle escape your mouth as he unwrapped his arm from around you, turning to face you, “you okay?”

you nodded, “yeah. thank you.”

“that’s what i’m here for,” he smiled, “hungry? we can get something to eat before i drop you off at home?”

you nodded, “sounds good.”

he nodded towards the door, the two of you walking out towards the parking lot. he opened the passenger side door for you. you thanked him before he jogged around to his side, buckling in and starting the car before passing you his phone.

“put on whatever you want.”

you scrolled through his spotify, finding a couple songs you knew and put them on through the car speakers. he pulled into the parking lot to one of the diners in town. the two of you made your way inside before sitting in a booth across from one another. 

you scanned over the menu, “what’re you going to get?”

he hummed, “don’t know. kinda going back and forth between the club and the chicken parm. what about you?”

you hummed, twisting your lips in thought, “the grilled cheese and tomato soup sounds good.”

he smiled, “does sound good.”

once the two of you ordered and got your food, you made small talk about the game. 

“i don’t think jack likes me much.” tom chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“no, really?” you smiled, voice laced with sarcasm, “what gave it away? was it the blatant ignoring or was it something else i didn’t pick up on?”

he smiled, “not that i care about his opinion of me, but he could’ve at least shook my hand.” 

you nodded in agreement, “yeah, no, he didn’t have to be such a dick about it.”

the bill came and after trying to grab it from him for about five minutes, you finally let him pay. you walked out, letting him open the car door for you, as he always does. you two were on the way back to your house, laughing and enjoying comfortable conversation. 

“so, tell me,” he said, “are you really not into the jock type?”

you nodded, “yeah, i mean, guys who i’ve met who were athletes were like the stereotypical jock type. the huge ego, kinda kept their girlfriend by their side as arm candy, never really cared about the woman they were with, you know?”

he nodded, “yeah, i don’t really get how guys can do that. any guy who doesn’t worship their girl is a dick, in my opinion.”

you smiled, “are you the type of guy to worship your girl?” 

“oh, yeah,” he said, “i mean, if you don’t then what’s the point, y’know?”

“i get you,” you said, “in my opinion, taylor didn’t deserve you.”

he smiled over at you, “a lot of other people would agree with you.”

who would willingly break tom’s heart? i mean, c’mon, he’s the definition of a perfect boyfriend. 

no, stop thinking like that.

he pulled up in front of the house. you looked over at him, his brown eyes meeting yours. 

“do you want to come inside?” you didn’t even notice the words were falling from your lips until you heard your own voice. 

“sure.” he smiled, turning the car off. he followed you inside, mia and sarah sitting on the couch. 

“hey,” you said, shutting the door and locking it, your eyes falling onto the tv, “what’re you guys watching?”

“the new episode of love island,” mia said, “shh.”

you looked at tom who was smiling at you. you rolled your eyes playfully, “okay, you guys have fun. we’re going upstairs.”

sarah gave you a thumbs up as the two of you climbed the stairs. you made your way to your room and shut the door. tom took a seat onto your bed, watching as you walked over to the dresser.

“i might have a pair of sweats you can change into,” you said, digging through one of the drawers, “if you want to stay.”

he smiled, “i’d love to stay.”

you smiled back at him before handing him the sweatpants, “i can uhm, find a t-shirt or something if you don’t want to sleep in your sweatshirt.”

“i’m good for now,” he smiled, taking the sweatpants into his hands, “thank you.”

you nodded, “the bathroom is over there.”

he nodded, walking into the bathroom. you quickly changed into a pair of leggings and a tanktop, sitting on the bed as he came out of the bathroom. he joined you on the bed, putting his phone on the nightstand.

“wanna watch a movie or something?”

he nodded, “yeah, anything in mind?”

you hummed as you clicked onto netflix, “i heard the new movie on netflix is good. something about a girl who’s in fake relationship or something.”

he let out a chuckle as you smiled over at him, “how fitting. maybe we could learn a thing or two.”

you clicked on the movie, the both of you getting situated on the bed. you two were mainly talking rather than paying attention. he was propped up on his elbow, facing you as you laid down on your side. 

his eyes scanned your face, “oh, you have an eyelash.”

you reached up under the eye he pointed to, attempting to wipe it away. 

“did i get it?”

he smiled softly, “no, here,”

he reached up gently and pinched the eyelash between his fingers. you smiled as he scanned your face again. you did the same, his face softly illuminated from the light from the tv. he looked like a dream, his curls flopped over his forehead. you didn’t realize how close the two of you had gotten until you could feel his warm breath fan your face. he reached over and moved  a piece of hair from your face. 

“what’re you thinking about?” you asked softly.

“how i broke one of the rules.”

you raised an eyebrow, “which one?”

“the first one,” he said, “‘no strings attached’. i can’t help it. you’re all that’s been on my mind ever since i met you.”

you let out a shaky breath at how close he was, “i may have broken that one, too.”

he smiled, “let’s scrap the rules. i want to explore this, whatever kind of feelings we may or may not have… if that’s what you want.”

“yeah,” you said, “fuck the rules.”

he smiled wider, “is it alright if i kiss you right now?”

“please.”

                     ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

💌 beings my tagged list has gotten so long that tumblr literally won't let me add it, the tagged list is temporarily closed until i can figure it out. in the meantime, be sure to follow and turn on notifications for @toms-gf to be notified whenever i post imagines :)

xoxo, jordan

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland series #college au #college!tom holland #college!au #college!reader #college!au tom holland #hockey player au #hockey player!tom holland #sideline (series) #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #marvel imagines #mcu #mcu imagines #spiderman #spider man #spider-man

[x-neurodivergent-reader]

Adoration Equation (Loki x Autistic!Reader w/ Dyscalculia)

Anon’s request: “Could you possibly do 'Loki with a S/O who has dyscalculia?' (And also autism, if you're comfortable with including more than one?) Perhaps they're on a mission and split up from the others, only for the reader to find themselves in a situation where math is involved (Idk, maybe a keypad equation to open something?), and Loki had no idea about their dyscalculia until right then?”

Summary: You and Loki started dating recently, but as seeing you struggle with a seemingly simple part of a mission will show him, there are still some things about you that he doesn’t know.

A/N: I don't have dyscalculia myself (I did research it, but that's not the same as experiencing it), so please let me know if any of my descriptions of it aren’t accurate, so I can revise them. Apart from that, enjoy!

The reader here is gender-neutral.

Content warnings: Slight insecurity from the reader.

The hallways of the facility you were infiltrating were silent, save for the distant sounds of gunfire and crashing as your teammates fought through anyone who attacked them, to allow you and Loki the chance to get to the main office. The USB stick that would be used to hack into one of the computers and download classified information about the organisation’s plans, along with the ID card you swiped from a higher-up earlier, felt heavy in your pocket, as you stayed alert to avoid anything that could compromise your mission.

You and Loki found that you worked together quite well in the field. Your respective skills matched up nicely, he made sure to communicate clearly with you, and you were often on the same wavelength. It was no wonder that the two of you would be grouped together for this mission – nor, perhaps, that you had become a couple about a month previously.

Just as you were about to turn down the next corridor, Loki stopped you, gently guiding you behind him as he checked around the corner for any guards. His eyebrows creased after a moment, as he slowly walked further down the hall, tentatively giving you the gesture you had both agreed on to follow him.

Surprisingly, despite the door to your destination being in sight, there were no soldiers near it.

“The coast looks clear.” You murmured, just audible enough for your partner to hear you.

“But why…?” He inquired, seemingly listening out for anyone trying to sneak up on you both. “Why would they not guard somewhere so important?”

You looked around for any hidden cameras, and sure enough, you saw a few – one at each end of the hall, and another that seemed to be embedded in the office door. You lightly tapped Loki’s arm, and silently pointed them out to him.

“They might be planning an ambush.” You whispered.

Loki nodded in response, before summoning a small pellet of green magic, and throwing it at one of the cameras at the end of the hall. Before you could process it, he turned, shooting another at the camera in the door and, finally, at the side of the corridor you had arrived from.

A thick silence fell over you both, knowing that someone was bound to come for you now that the cameras had been destroyed. Sure enough, you both heard footsteps, soon followed by a small group of soldiers rounding the corner in front of you, weapons ready to attack.

Being the seasoned warrior he is, Loki immediately had a plan.

“I’ll take care of them,” he murmured to you, “you open the door.”

“Right.” You agreed, turning back to the direction you were heading in, while Loki dove into battle behind you.

Approaching the door, you took out the stolen card, and looked around for a machine on the wall with a slot to slide it through. Your eyes stopped when you saw what appeared to be exactly that, except it had something extra alongside the card slot.

It was a keypad. You hoped that, perhaps, there would be a code on the card that you could enter without too much trouble – but when you used the card as required, the screen on the device lit up with an equation, an extra security protocol that had to be solved to enter the room.

‘Shit…’ You thought, a sense of dread starting to rise within you, as your mind blocked out the sounds of the fight happening nearby. You realised that this was going to be much harder for you than you had expected, if not outright impossible.

Regardless, you read the calculation, hoping it would be simple enough that you could at least make an attempt at it, perhaps by counting on your fingers. You just hoped that you could get it done before Loki finished fighting…

"8 x 2 x 5 + 750 =”

…and, not knowing where to even start in comprehending this, your mind immediately drew a blank.

‘Shit!’ You thought again, your panic increasing with the knowledge that you were absolutely not going to be able to do this part of the mission.

You weren’t sure of what to do now, the pressure from not being able to act on the job making you feel on edge. Should you help Loki finish his fight? Would he be mad at you for not opening the door? Would he think less of you for not being able to? Why did nobody check to see that this was how it needed to be opened-?!

Your train of thought was interrupted when a hand reached in front of you, catching you off-guard and almost causing you to attack on instinct, until you realised that it was Loki, having already finished his fight. You chanced a brief glance at his face – he wasn’t looking at you, focused on reading the equation, but his brows were downturned, like he was either confused or annoyed by your lack of action. You deeply hoped it wasn’t the latter.

Loki entered the answer into the keypad almost immediately, and the door slid open, revealing the dimly-lit office. The one window in the back wall seemed to pour daylight over the desk with the computer you needed to use, immediately drawing your attention to it like a spotlight on a stage.

Your partner stepped aside, silently gesturing for you to enter the room first, so you could use the USB and finish the job. Avoiding his gaze, you practically speed walked into the room, still feeling self-conscious about what had just happened – you hoped the download wouldn’t take long enough for the subject to be brought up sooner, rather than later.

You pressed the button on the monitor that lit up the screen, and plugged the USB into the tower next to it, the device releasing a virus that automatically broke into the computer’s security details, and collected the necessary information for you.

“We’re in.” you told Loki, as he approached the desk. The adrenaline from the mission up to that point caught up to you, and you cautiously decided to slouch in the chair until the download was complete. “Tony said it should take about five minutes, if no one interrupts us.”

Loki nodded, giving a small hum of acknowledgement. You still didn’t have the courage to look at him yet, but were at least grateful that he wasn’t admonishing you. You were dealing with enough mixed feelings about the situation as is, particularly with regards to whether you should have told him about your dyscalculia before all of this. Especially since you were now in a relationship with him, you were starting to feel guilty about not bringing it up.

“Do you have trouble with maths, by any chance?” Loki’s voice broke through the silence. His tone of voice was neutral, giving little indication as to what he was feeling.

Your leg started to bounce as you stared at the screen, internally cursing the fact that this conversation was, indeed, happening already. You still couldn’t tell whether he was mad at you – you never were the best at telling how people were feeling, especially when they were this subtle – and that fact, combined with the previous issue with the keypad, made you start to feel slightly frustrated. You felt like you couldn’t figure anything out today.

“Yeah, I…” You spoke under your breath, leaning forward to further avoid Loki’s gaze. You rested your forearms on your legs, one of which still jiggled as a nervous stim. Given that there was no other explanation, and you could never successfully lie to your partner about this, you supposed you might as well tell the truth. “…my autism isn’t the only, uh… neurodivergence I have. I also have a learning disability called dyscalculia. It basically makes it a lot more difficult for me to understand maths and numbers than it would be for most people. It doesn't matter if it's equations, telling the time, reading maps... I’ve just never been able to really comprehend it.”

Loki stepped forward, and placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. His voice was quiet as he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You knew that he most likely felt guilty for unknowingly making you do something you weren’t able to, but the gentle tone in his voice made your stomach churn. You couldn’t help worrying that he was looking down on you, whether he meant to or not.

“I didn’t want you to think less of me for it.” You admitted. “I mean, look at how quickly you solved that keypad. It barely took you any effort! You’re one of the smartest people I know, and…” You finally looked up at your partner, seeing how his face softened at the implication, and you moved your hand to cover his, giving the same reassurance he offered you. “…I don’t necessarily think that I’m stupid for it, but I’m not always sure that other people will feel the same, especially since I joined a team full of people who can do maths so easily. I didn’t want you to think that I’m stupid, just because my brain works like this.”

You glanced back at the computer screen, seeing that the USB was close to finishing its download. You sat up against the chair, and let Loki’s hand move to hold yours.

“Darling,” he squeezed your hand, grounding you, “your dyscalculia doesn’t change how I feel about you. It would be preposterous for anyone to judge your intelligence based on a learning disability – you don’t need to be able to do everything to be worthy of respect.”

Loki looked at the computer screen, and with his gaze away from you, you took a moment to watch the way the monitor’s light emphasised the blue in his eyes. You wondered if he ever noticed that when there was no risk of eye contact, you couldn’t help admiring them, no matter how briefly.

“I love every part of you,” he continued, and your breath caught in your chest at what was his first explicit confession of love towards you, “and this is no exception. I simply wish I had known not to put you in that situation before. I’m sorry for causing you stress by doing so.”

“It’s okay.” You grinned up at him, your body relaxing at the knowledge that there was nothing to worry about. “We’ll know to have me be the one to kick their asses next time.”

Loki chuckled under his breath, looking back at you with that sweet, lovestruck smile, reserved only for you.

In front of you, the download window on the computer screen disappeared, signifying that it was complete. You stood up from the desk chair, pushing it backwards on its wheels while you disconnected the USB and stuffed it back into your pocket, and zipped it to ensure it wouldn't get lost.

You then turned to Loki, and gave him a quick yet heartful kiss on the lips. When you pulled away, he gave you that cheeky smirk that you adored so much.

“I love you, too.” You confessed sincerely, before you both made your way to the office doors, ready to face any threats that may wait on the other side together. “Now let’s finish this.”

#loki x reader #marvel loki x reader #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki x y/n #loki x you #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #mcu imagine #mcu imagines #mcu x reader #autistic!reader #dyscalculic!reader #neurodivergent!reader #only one request to go and I'll be free from marvel forever

[angelltheninth]

Logan Growlett in the Sheets

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, growling/snarling, claws pop out, feral!Logan Howlett

Word count: 0.6k

Ao3

A/N: I'm so sorry for the bad pun. Don't look at me!

Many called Logan wild, feral, an animal. You're the only one who knew the true feral Logan, when he was complexly consumed by his deepest instincts, the instinct to fuck and to breed his cute girlfriend.

Every once in a while he would get like this, pounding into you from behind, strong hands spreading your thighs open for him, holding you against him so you don't move away from his cock. Although a chase isn't a bad idea for the future. Right now you're not going anywhere.

"Where do you think you're going dollface? We're not done yet, my cock's still got so much to give you." Logan rasped.

His hands moved up your body, to your back, across your shoulderblades, putting a bit of extra pressure on your squirming body. Was it wrong for you to rile him up more? To want him to lose control with you and fuck you into the bed harder, fuck you cunt full of his hard cock.

"Why would I go anywhere when your cock is inside me?" You felt him push it all the way inside you, "Fuck. Harder. Faster." The demands trembled on your lips, earning a deep growl in return. Logan's hands pushed you all the way down on the bed.

Trapped between his hard body and the bed you couldn't move much, but you could still clench your pussy around him whenever he pulled out. "Greedy little cunt you got there. I'll make sure to give it what it wants, it's been so good for me today. You take my cock so well, my perfectly made toy." Logan's hips kept snapping forward, slapping into yours, your ass smacked hard every time. "Does my girl want to come?"

"Yeah. I need to... around your cock." You glanced back in time to see him grin triumphally. "I've been a good girl, just like you said." And according to him good girls got to come all they wanted to.

He knew how to make that happen.

"I know what you need babygirl. You need a big load in you. A creampie to help you come." His cock pulsed at his own words, just as eager as your pussy was.

You weren't gonna beg for his cum. Not this time, there was no need to when Logan got like this. There was nothing in the universe that would make him stop making you come. His body tensed on top of yours, his legs pushed on either side of you, trapping you beneath him completely, enjoying every moan you made, and more importantly the slutty, wet sounds of your pussy taking his cock.

He pushes off for a brief moment, inhaled once before his claws popped out and stabbed into the bed.

You would have scolded him for ruining yet another bed if your brain wasn't turning into mush and you could actually form words. Unfortunately you could only whine, "Logan..." Repeating his name over and over while he rutted into your pussy, full balls slapping loud against your skin, "Come." Arching your back as much as you were able you clenched your pussy walls around him, making sure he stayed inside you while you shook with pleasure, barely able to think of anything anymore.

"Cum? I'll give you lots of cum, all of it. Like you need." He chuckled. He heard you right, didn't mean he would stop fucking you now. "Be so full of my cum it's gonna drip out. Or I suppose I could keep my cock in for a little while longer, maybe even all day, keep you here, fuck you when I feel like it."

Warmth rushed through your body as he pushed himself close, his cum spilling both inside and a bit on the outside as well.

"That's a lot. You better stay here." Logan barked out a laugh, his claws slowly retracting before his strong arms slipped under your stomach, one hand patting directly over your pussy. "We'll see if you get lucky this time." If the both of you get lucky.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x female reader #xmen x reader #xmen smut #xmen x female reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine imagines #wolverine fanfiction #marvel smut #marvelsmut #mcu smut #avengersmsut #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #marvel imagines #avengers x reader #marvel x fem!reader #mcu x female reader #marvel x female reader #x female reader

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Can I ask for Natasha x reader where one of them calls the other one by their real name and the other one freaks out because they usually call them by petnames? Thanks!

Of course! I always love fics based off this idea 💞 this is kind of angsty because I'm a sucker for that kind of stuff alright 😭 also Малыш is supposed to mean baby in Russian, but I honestly have no idea how accurate that is

Terms of Endearment (Natasha Romanoff x reader)

Warnings: mentions of insecurity/self depreciating thoughts, not really hurt/comfort but also kind of?? Idk

You and your girlfriend Natasha had always been fond of using petnames for each other, often more so than your actual names themselves. Whether it be honey, sweetheart, darling, or simply just babe, you never ran out of cutesy names to call each other. But as much as you loved hearing the never ending abundance of pet names roll off Natasha's tongue, what you didn't love was how often you got teased for it. 

You knew the other members of the team didn't mean anything by it and would stop if they knew how much it upset you, but the problem was you didn't really have a good reason for feeling that way. It seemed silly just thinking about it, childish even. So you kept your mouth shut, laughing along at their meaningless jokes as you made yourself a promise to cut down on the cheesy nicknames. 

You hoped Natasha wouldn't notice the lack endearing terms on your part, but she did, of course. She always noticed the small things nobody else picked up on. It came with the job description of being an assassin.

Although she'd noticed it, she couldn't understand why there was a sudden change in your behavior, especially when she knew how much you loved the petnames you had for each other. 

Because of this, she cut down on the petnames, too, and only used them when you were alone, hoping maybe she could solve the problem that way, even if she didn't know what it was.

It all came it a head one day when you were cooking together. It was just the two of you, everyone else either busy or in another part of the Avengers base. 

Natasha was standing by the stove, making some sort of soup. "Малыш, could you hand me the salt?" She asked after tasting it and realizing it needed something. 

The way you tensed up at the name she used for you did not fly past her, and it caused her to let out a small sigh. "Are you okay? You haven't been using nearly as many petnames for me as you used to, and I've noticed whenever I use them you seem... upset. Even when we're alone." 

You let out a sigh yourself, knowing it wouldn't do you any good to lie about it. "I... I was hoping you wouldn't notice." You began meekly, looking down. 

Natasha had a slight frown on her face as she turned towards you fully. "And why is that?" Her tone was gentle, but firm. It was clear she wasn't going to let you leave without some sort of explanation. 

"It- its not you. Or me. Its the others," you confess quietly. "I didn't really like the way they teased me whenever I called you honey or babe, so I stopped all together." 

She nodded her head, the pieces suddenly falling into place. "Ah, so that's why. At first, I thought I'd done something to tick you off." She joked, it making her heart warm to hear the laugh that came from you after. 

"No, it wasn't that, and even if it was, you know I could never stay mad at you." You said playfully, finally handing her the salt. 

She took it from you and added some to the pot on the stove before speaking again. "I'll talk to everybody, and tell them to lay off on the teasing, that way you won't have to worry about it anymore." 

You gave her a loving smile, your tone filled with gratitude. "Thanks, hon." 

She smiled back at the petname before giving you a soft kiss. "Of course, darling. Anything for you." 

Likes < reblogs | PLEASE REBLOG if you like what you read

Main masterlist | MCU masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube @gilmore-angel @xxromanoffxx @your-next-daydream @whistle1whistle @alexxavicry @elenavampire21 @truthindreams @the-nightowl-blr @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @defstr8bl0nd13 (if you were crossed out it means I couldn't tag you for some reason)

#marvel #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel fic #mcu #mcu imagines #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #mcu fic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fic

[yourloverfromthepast]

Sam: Oh my- where the fu- JESUS CHRIST!

Bucky: Uuh, why you throwin' gang signs?

Sam: Huh? I'm not- *sighs* I can hear this fucking mosquito but for some reason I can't see it

Bucky, turning towards you: Aaaand, what the hell are you filming? A ghost?

Y/n: A ghost? Oh no! Scott asked me to edit a video of him singing "Umbrella" while being tiny. There, look. *Proceeds to point at the table in front of the couch*

Sam, who was sitting on the couch, now standing up: Are you for real? No, like, ARE YOU FOR REAL?? I'VE BEEN TRYING TO CATCH A MOSQUITO FOR FIVE MINUTES AND IT TURNS OUT IT WAS TIC-TAC?!?!

#marvel #marvel x you #marvel x reader #incorrect marvel quotes #mcu imagine #mcu imagines #avengers fanfiction #mcu incorrect quotes #the avengers #the avengers x reader #sam wilson incorrect quotes #bucky incorrect quotes #ant man #scott lang #bucky #incorrect avengers #incorrect mcu quotes #incorrect marvel cinematic universe

[gay-dorito-dust]

You looked left, then looked right before then hobbling down the hallway, safely making it to the dimly kitchen of your apartment without so much as a peep but just when you thought you were in the clear. The lights turn on and in the doorway, you could clearly see the disappointment upon Adam’s face as he crossed his arms over his chest.

‘Fuck.’ You hissed under your breath.

‘Shouldn’t you be in bed, resting.’ You grimaced, knowing you’ve tested his patience one too many times with your constant escapades that were birthed from your boredom of being bed bound.

To provide a little bit of context: The most recent mission you and the guardians had partaken in turned out well enough to be considered a success…had you weren’t then later on ambushed by what you had originally thought was the corpse of your slain enemy; leaving you in a state of injury and on bed rest until all sustaining wounds were properly healed over.

During this, Adam had appointed himself your caregiver and would often catch you in the act of attempting one of your many grandiose plans of retrieving a snack from the fridge when your hunger could no longer be ignored or your comfort plushie, before ushering your back to your room and getting what it was that you needed for you. Oftentimes you’d think to yourself that Adam was doing this out of a sense of guilt in not being able to react fast enough but he -as much as the rest of you- couldn’t have known that amongst the dead there would be one still clinging to their last embers of life whilst scheming the ultimate revenge plot.

‘This is the fourth time this week.’ Adam began his chastising.

‘I know…’ you muttered.

‘Your wounds will never properly heal at the rate that you’re going.’ He continues and it feels as though you’ve heard this same rant more then you’d like, but then again you guessed it was kind of your own fault for not actively doing your part in allowing your wounds the time to heal; Even now you felt them scream at you in agreement from beneath the thick gauze as they throbbed in anguish, causing you to wince and bite down your groans of pain as to not alert Adam.

However Adam was more observant then you or anyone gave him credit for and had saw the way your hand instinctually reached for your heavily bandaged side and how the muscles in your face contorts into one of pain and discomfort. His posture relaxed, arms limp at his side, as his face softened; All he wanted to do was make sure your healing went accordingly but he failed to take into account of how restless you’d become from the inactivity, which had lead to your current situation becoming a common occurrence.

‘Your wounds are flaring up again.’ Adam said softly as he made his way to your uninjured side. ‘Let me help you back into bed at the very least.’ You mulled it over but ultimately decided that you should stop making Adam’s job as your caretaker harder then it should be and actually allow your wounds their time to heal because what you were doing wasn’t helping anyone and it certainly wasn’t helping your healing process, only proving in hindering it even more then necessary.

‘Fine.’ You said, accepting that you were loosing this battle, allowing Adam to escort you back to your room and helping you find a comfortable position without irritating your wounds even further then you already have. Before Adam left your room, you find yourself calling out to him. ‘Adam.’ The golden boy looks over his shoulder, ‘I’m sorry for being a pain in the ass. I know you were just trying to help and all I’ve been doing is make it harder on the both of us. I just wanted to say thank you for putting up with me.’

‘You could never be trouble for me.’ Adam admits. ‘I find your inability to stay situated an admirable trait as it only tells me that you have a restless spirit that won’t go quietly into the night. So don’t apologise for I’ll always be here whenever you should need me.’ He finishes with a soft smile before closing the door behind him and you found yourself smiling when drifting to sleep.

#adam warlock x y/n #adam warlock imagines #adam warlock imagine #adam warlock x you #adam warlock fluff #adam warlock fic #adam warlock x reader #mcu imagines #mcu fic #mcu x reader #mcu x y/n #mcu x you #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel imagines #marvel x y/n #marvel x you #marvel x reader

[heliads]

Not sure if you write for Namor from MCU, but could you write Namor x Y/N Enemies to Lovers where Y/N is a Greek demigod who helps Namor after washing up injured and Namor pays them back by helping them deal with a monster? They’re enemies bc he still distrusts humans. Could Y/N also be a child of Hecate please?

had not seen wakanda forever but this request is so good that i specifically sought it out for you, anon. a+ job

masterlist

At this point, the man washing up on the shores of the sea isn’t even the strangest thing you’ve seen all day. Nor is he your chief concern. Normally, the boundary spells up around your city would keep out any intruders, unconscious men who might be soldiers be damned, but the boundary spells haven’t been working well as of late. That’s kind of why you’re here. 

You consider him for a while, his unmoving form, the weapons at his sides still softly clinking as the rolling surf pulls them together, then decide that this is so not your problem and leave. Men destroy themselves all the time. This one, although stranger than most, will either be able to sort himself out when he wakes or be far beyond the reach of your help.

This sort of sentiment would strike many as unkind, but to you, it is nothing uncommon. This is survival. It has never been pretty. It works as well as you let it, and one moment of mercy can spell your death in a second. Right now, you’re not just responsible for yourself, but your entire civilization as well. 

If you ask most scholars and historical enthusiasts, they’ll tell you that the lost city of Atlantis is a myth. Nothing real, just a bunch of old stories all tied together into one perplexing knot. The world loves disasters. The idea of a highly advanced Ancient Greek society sinking beneath the waves, all that knowledge and power gone forever, is highly corruptive. Some people spend their entire lives hunting down rabbit holes and paper trails to see if they could be the one to track it down, but in the end, no one actually wants to find Atlantis. The allure is in the impossibility.

You suppose that’s why they never managed it. Atlantis is somewhere out there, ripe for discovery, just as so many thrillseekers have envisioned. The only problem is that its inhabitants have absolutely no desire to be found, so no one has found it. You would know, you live there. In fact, you have lived there for a very long time. Not as long as the oldest; some of you have died by now, others have left, and many have been forgotten, but the stories of what it was like before you cut yourselves off from the world have been passed down for centuries, and you’ve heard and told most all of them.

The Atlantaens were in danger, that’s why you left the ancient world in the first place. Many scoff at the idea of the Ancient Greek pantheon today; so many gods and heroes and monsters, none of them kind, all of them doomed. We love to laugh at that which we do not understand, but the gods laugh at us for not believing, and then they damn us with curses and agents of destruction. The gods are real, all of them, and they do not take kindly to insults.

Over the course of time, while the Aegean Sea was settled and fought over, a certain kind of people tended to drift towards Atlantis. At first, the progression of its society was slow, but as rumors grew of its inhabitants, those who found they had more in common with the Atlantaens than their own people left their homes to find a true one. 

To put it plainly, Atlantis was home to the demigods, the ones chosen by the Fates for a higher purpose. Many Greeks went their whole lives without being called upon the gods. Others couldn’t have a good night’s sleep without being plagued by visions of future quests in their dreams. So much immortal attention attracted the ire of the Athenians, the Spartans, everyone. Out of fear for their lives and a desire for more, those of you touched by the Olympians went to Atlantis, and once there, you never wanted to leave.

For a while, this progression was fine. No one bothered you on Atlantis because they weren’t stupid enough to try and attack an island full of half-gods and heroes. During difficult times, though, when harvests weren’t bountiful and water supplies grew dry, it was easier for outsiders to blame the island of outcasts than their own city-states. Thieves started sneaking onto Atlantis, burning your crops before vanishing under the cover of night. Prized possessions went missing. Families were hurt.

Without a definable cause, infighting erupted between demigods. Old angers between godly parents renewed themselves among their children. Poseidon’s children swore destruction on Athena’s chosen scholars. Ares’ soldiers spit at the feet of any tinkerer of Hephaestus who crossed their path.

Eventually, it became clear to the island leaders that drastic changes had to be made before the island tore itself apart. The demigods never attacked each other before things started turning sour, so the enemy was obviously the outsiders. To solve the crisis, the strongest of the demigods turned to the gods for help, and for once, they answered. Atlantis was cast away from the rest of the city-states, veiled from mortal eyes and dragged further into the Mediterranean Sea. You still had all the resources you needed from your island, you just weren’t hurt by the mortals.

Thus life carried on for centuries. Your art and achievements continued to expand at a breakneck pace. You lived longer, accomplished more. The gods smiled upon you. Your island was huge, your society could flourish without being impeded by the limits of your land. It became clear that the bad times had ended.

Or, they had, and then the first monster showed up. Without constant invaders, the art of fighting had somewhat fallen out of fashion. Ares’ descendants would never allow it to die completely, but it had become almost archaic. The monster was eventually slain, but it sparked fear into the hearts of the Atlantaens, and made everyone realize that they weren’t invulnerable.

The people of Atlantis responded in two separate ways. Some flung themselves before their temples, praying to the gods to deliver them again. They waited in their homes for an inevitable second attack, shaking and scared. Others, like you, realized that the only ones who would save you would be yourselves. The gods respond to insult; they removed Atlantis from the mortals because their offerings were constantly raided. One monster on an island of many is not worth their concern. It is up to you to protect your people.

You have two ways of saving your island. One is through the sword. The other is with your spells. Your mother, Hecate, often visits her children in dreams to instruct them in the magical arts. You’ve learned many spells and incantations, and they’ve come in handy as more and more monsters appear. You can only hope that they will be enough to continue the defense of the island. It seems as if the attacks will never end.

And, chillingly, perhaps they never will. You and your fellow demigods, the ones that decided to fight back instead of waiting for a salvation that will never come, have made a plan to save yourselves. Part of that involves regular patrols and expeditions to the outermost reaches of the island to kill any monster that crosses your path. You have enchanted swords at the ready, plus half a dozen defensive spells burning under your fingertips. This is not the time at which you die. 

You have enjoyed many patrols over the past few years, but today, your veins are thrumming with adrenaline even more than at the start. You know something is out there. A couple of farmers turned up with bloody livestock, scared of something poaching their animals. Scales and talons have been found. If you’re right— and let’s be honest, you really don’t want to be— you’ve got a Hydra on your hands. 

That’s bad news. The monsters were small at the start; a lesser scourge here and there, a malevolent spirit, and then they got bigger. A harpy. A medium sized giant. If you’re getting hydras— well, maybe you’ll have to make some good offerings to the gods in addition to your regular training. Some divine protection couldn’t hurt at a time like this. 

That’s why you can’t afford to worry about a man passed out on your shores, not yet. Yes, he is a problem, a definitive sign that the godly interference that should be protecting Atlantis has started to slacken, but you can deal with him after you kill the hydra that’s after both of you. Always the monster you know, right? Or the monster you know is lurking in the undergrowth, ready to slaughter you and your entire island. 

You had planned on coming back for the guy, sure, but maybe his unconscious body doesn’t believe that, because you’ve hardly taken ten steps past his fallen form when he suddenly jerks to life. It’s like reanimating a corpse, how he moves; from nothing to everything all at once. His eyes go wide, and he gasps desperately for air, one hand reaching to his throat. Strangely enough, he doesn’t choke out water, but blood, a few scarlet mouthfuls before he lies on his back once more, twitching into stillness. 

You peer back over at him. Not dead yet, his chest still rises and falls with desperate breaths. It would be smart to carry on your path and only check in with this man when you’re sure a monster won’t lunge at you out of the surrounding trees the second you turn your back, but he’s spotted you already. One hand reaches out towards you, trembling, from where he lies in the surf.

He starts to open his mouth, and you silently prepare yourself for some sort of desperate plea, a call for aid. Instead, you’re surprised when all the man says is, “Were you really going to leave me to die here?”

You blink at him. “I thought you were already dead.”

He has the audacity to frown at you. “I would have died if I needed help and you didn’t provide it.”

You can’t believe he’s washed up on your island– you know, the unfindable one– and has the nerve to question your hospitality. “Same difference.”

“Not to me,” he harrumphes, and starts to sit up. So he really isn’t dead. If he isn’t dying, though, that means it actually is your duty to help him. You’re more of a soldier than a nurse, so he’d better not have any broken limbs. Seeing as you really have no choice, you bite back a bitter groan and help him at last. He eyes you distrustfully, but lets you drag him farther from the tide. You had intended to prop him up against a tree or something, but he protests when he gets too far from the water, so you settle for a smooth boulder close enough to the surf that the waves still crash over his feet.

Strangely enough, the water seems to be helping him heal. You can see the ghosts of scars criss crossing his chest, but they don’t appear to be old wounds. Instead, they might be recent. 

You squint at him. “Do you have enhanced healing?”

“And strength,” he adds. “I wouldn’t recommend trying to kill me. You would die before you got the chance.”

If this is how strangers act when you try to help them, you’re not surprised that the ancient Atlantaens asked the gods to cordon off their island. “I could tell you the same thing. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

He regards you for a second. “Why should I do what you tell me? I don’t bow to strangers.”

“Neither do I,” you force out through gritted teeth, “and right now, you’re on my land, so I suggest you learn to scrape at least a little bit.”

He narrows his eyes. The salty sea air blows his dark hair against his face, revealing more of the ornate jewelry around his neck. It looks ancient, perhaps even as old as your society. Although you’d like nothing more than for him to hurry off of Atlantis, you can’t help your curiosity and open your mouth to ask about it.

You’re cut off before you get the chance. The man doubles over all of a sudden, hands flying to his throat once more. Now that you’ve moved him farther away from the ocean, you have a better look at his wounds, and although they’re healing quickly, they look severe. Severe enough to kill him even with advanced health.

Swearing, you raise your hands and begin chanting. Healing spells have become increasingly useful as of late; Hecate’s children learn at least one before they're even knee height, and you’ve had plenty of chances to practice these sorts of incantations thanks to the sudden surge of monster attacks.

Tendrils of magic fly from your hands and wrap around the man. The spells target the injuries across his chest, his heart, his throat, and strangely enough, a few fly down to one of his ankles, repairing a set of wings above his feet. You chant until your throat goes hoarse, until he stops choking, until his breathing settles. Only then do you lower your hands, and wait there in terrible transience, waiting for him to say something.

At last, slowly, incredulously, he does. “What did you do?”

“I saved your life,” you say.

He nods. “I know. With magic?”

You incline your head. He ponders this for a moment longer, then extends a hand towards you. “My name is Namor.”

You stare at his outstretched palm, then take it. “I’m Y/N. Welcome to Atlantis.”

He doesn’t believe you at first. It appears that the rumors of Atlantis’ disappearance are more widespread than you thought if they’ve managed to reach an underwater Mesoamerican city across the world. Namor believes you soon enough, though, especially when he’s gathered his strength enough for you to lead him up a rocky cliff so he can see the majesty of your island sprawling out before him. 

The sight stuns even you, with your years of remembering it, so you’re pleased to see that Namor looks appropriately stupefied. Atlantis is a marvel; crisscrossing colonnades, magnificent gardens, marble roofs shining in the sun, temples to so many gods and goddesses that even you can’t remember them all. Children run laughing in the streets, and their parents chastise them or smile at the fun they’re having. A flock of university students chatter on their way to class. Soldiers practice in an open training yard, and the clash of bronze echoes such that you can hear it even here, on the very outskirts of the island.

“This is your home?” He asks.

You smile. “It is.”

“Why were you all the way out here, then?” Namor queries, “If not looking for dying men to ignore?”

You roll your eyes. “I saved you eventually, didn’t I?”

He laughs. “Only when I asked you to. Some would call that heartless.”

You arch a brow. “Would you?”

He takes a step closer to you. “No,” he says at last, “I don’t think I would.”

You breathe out evenly and then, to hide the sudden pressure between your ribs, change the subject. “How did you come here, Namor? Our island is under enchantment to hide us from the rest of the world. You never should have been able to come here, especially not since it’s so far from where you were.”

Namor sighs. “I don’t know. I was returning home with my people after a truce with the Wakandans. We were attacked on the way by something, some sort of monster. I don’t know what it was. We managed to kill it, but while I was leading it away from our home, it struck me through the chest. I must have lost consciousness after I struck the killing blow, and then I woke up here.”

This makes worry tie up your stomach in tight knots. “A monster?”

You look back towards your shining city. Everyone seems to be happy and carefree right now, but if your monsters are cropping up in other parts of the world– if you cannot protect yourselves, not even if you had to run from Atlantis– there is no telling how long any of you could survive, especially not if the monsters keep getting bigger.

Namor lays a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Is everything alright, Y/N?”

“No,” you say firmly, “It’s not. Our peace has been shattered as of late. More and more monsters show up on our borders. I was out here to find another one that’s been spotted recently, a hydra. Even if I kill this one, though, it’ll be replaced by two more the next day. They never stop coming.”

The look in Namor’s eyes is soft, understanding. He knows what it’s like to feel as if you cannot keep your own people safe. “I will seek out this hydra with you. I have to go back to Talokan soon, but you have my word to return whenever you need help.”

You regard him questioningly. “Why would you make such a promise? We only just met.”

He lifts a shoulder. “You saved my life, I owe you a debt. Besides, we only have so many places free of humans left in the world. We should protect each other when we can.”

You smile, then decide to tease him a little more. “You know I’m half human, right?”

He feigns disgust. “I will only help half of your city, then.”

You laugh. “And kill half the hydra? That’s ridiculous.”

“No more than someone only being half immortal,” he points out. “How does that even work?”

You grin. “I try not to think about it.”

He matches your pleased expression. “Then I won’t, either.”

And so your daily patrol is joined by a feathered serpent god. The two of you stalk silently through the forests on the outskirts of Atlantis, marking signs of heavy travel. Intent on your prey, you manage to locate it with a combination of your spells and his experience. Killing the hydra is difficult, obviously; Tartarus does not make its monsters without wanting them to be impervious to most attacks, but when the dust settles, both of you are still alive and without too much damage. The same cannot be said for the dead monster, so a win’s a win.

The two of you stand there for a moment longer, weapons in hand, and then Namor slowly, remorsefully lifts his gaze from the dead hydra to look at you. “It’s time for me to go,” he says softly, “Talokan will be expecting me. They will wonder why I have not returned. I cannot afford for them to attack Wakanda again out of some nonexistent threat to their leader.”

“I understand,” you reply. You don’t like it, though. Not nearly as much as you would have liked it when you first found him on your shores.

“I should go,” he repeats, but his weapons are gone from his hands and he’s striding towards you, closing the distance in a breath, kissing you.

“You should go,” you tell him, but his hands are on your hips and you don’t want him to let go, not now, and certainly not to a city across the sea.

“I should–” Namor begins, but you interrupt him to kiss him again. His fingers curl against your sides, and you know for certain that he wants to leave just about as you want him to.

He does force himself away eventually. Both of you understand that there is and will always be something greater than the two of you at stake. Neither of you are just a person, just a god; the fate of your homes is far more pressing than any personal want. Still, when you walk back with him to the ocean and watch him disappear beneath the glimmering blue of the waves, you know that you’ll regret every lost moment.

Still, there is hope that you might see him again. He told you how to find Talokan, and Namor is familiar with Atlantis now. You could find each other again, frame it as a need for your countries to have diplomatic relations. You could be happy again. It might take time, but it could happen. You, for one, will be counting down the days until then.

marvel tag list: @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver, @alex-1967s-blog, @crazyhearttragedy

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#namor #namor imagines #namor x reader #namor oneshot #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel x reader #marvel oneshot #mcu #mcu imagines #mcu x reader #mcu oneshot #marvel namor #marvel namor imagines #marvel namor x reader #marvel namor oneshot #kukulkan #kukulkan imagines #kukulkan x reader #kukulkan oneshot