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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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take your time, they said.
the words will come to you, they said.
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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writing angst like
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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Thank you so much! ❤️🥺 You just made my entire year!
Resolution (Bucky Barnes)
Word Count: 4.1k
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: Reader creates a resolution to not date anyone for the upcoming year. Bucky ruins this.
Trigger Warning: Panic attack and self hatred
Please do not repost my work without my permission. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.
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“So, what’s your New Years Resolution?” Sam asked.
A hint of deviousness sparkled in his dark eyes. Y/N paused for a moment, trying to think of something that would better her the upcoming year. Her mind went to the many failed relationships that resulted throughout the last twelve months. There had been an embarrassing number, and the other Avengers wouldn’t let you forget that.
“I’m not going to date anyone this year. I wanna focus on bettering myself,” she announced, knowing that the resolution was probably going to fall through.
“Ha, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Natasha objected.
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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Resolution (Bucky Barnes)
Word Count: 4.1k
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: Reader creates a resolution to not date anyone for the upcoming year. Bucky ruins this.
Trigger Warning: Panic attack and self hatred
Please do not repost my work without my permission. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.
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"So, what's your New Years Resolution?" Sam asked.
A hint of deviousness sparkled in his dark eyes. Y/N paused for a moment, trying to think of something that would better her the upcoming year. Her mind went to the many failed relationships that resulted throughout the last twelve months. There had been an embarrassing number, and the other Avengers wouldn't let you forget that.
"I'm not going to date anyone this year. I wanna focus on bettering myself," she announced, knowing that the resolution was probably going to fall through.
"Ha, I'll believe it when I see it," Natasha objected.
Y/N whipped around and gave Natasha a cold glare, but deep down, she knew that Nat was right. She had been there for Y/N through every heartbreak, which was no small task. The fact that her own best friend didn't believe in her was proof enough that she was being a bit unrealistic.
Steve passed the bowl of popcorn to her, and she took a giant handful before giving it to Sam.
"What are we talking-?" Steve began.
"Shut up. It's about to drop," Tony said, eyes glued to the TV.
Steve rolled his eyes and went back to his spot on the left couch. It was a wonder that he hadn't fallen asleep yet. He was usually in bed by 8 pm.
The rest of the Avengers crowded around the device along with him. Despite its giant size, they crammed themselves together in any available space. Thor's shoulder was blocking half of her vision, but she was still able to hear the screams of New Yorkers as the ball dropped, signifying the start of a new year and an impossible resolution.
It was easy it first. Y/N had no desire to date, in the beginning, because of how much of her life work took up. Every second of free time she had became replaced with twice as much work.
But then the need came back. She wanted to feel needed in the way that only someone else could satisfy. Sure, nothing ever worked out, but that was part of the thrill. Commitment wasn't her strong suit, especially not with the guys that she went on dates with. Most of the time, she never wanted to see them again anyway, but she always held onto that small sliver of hope that the right person was out there waiting for.
Still, she resisted dating. Those small, absent spaces in her schedule gave her time to contemplate her mental health, and why she felt like she needed someone else to make her happy. It continued going well until she met him. James Buchanan Barnes.
~March 24th~
"Hey, Y/N, I want you to meet my friend, Bucky," Steve said, drawing your attention away from the mission report you were typing.
"Just a sec," you promised, before closing the confidential information in front of you and turning to face him and his friend.
She had heard all about the Winter Soldier, and she wasn't exactly ecstatic to meet him. There was no doubt in her mind that he was an excellent assassin, but was he a suitable teammate? He had murdered innocent people and torn apart so many lives. How changed could he be?
As soon as she saw his face, those worries went away. The image of Bucky Barnes that Y/N had created in her mind did not fit what she was seeing in front of her. He had the eyes of a man who had gone to hell and back, and certain softness oozed from him that made her gaze into his baby-blue eyes. The image of a ruthless killer that she had created in her mind looked nothing like the real him.
Y/N held out her hand for him to shake, and he untucked his flesh hand from behind his back to do so. The infamous metal arm remained hidden from her sight. He pressed it behind his back and out of sight in what appeared to be shame.
"It's nice to meet you!" she complimented, pulling her eyes away from his body to give him the largest grin she could muster.
He nodded and shifted in place uncomfortably. A dull smile appeared on his face. It was easy to tell that he was a man ridden with pain.
"Well, we probably better get going. I still have to show him around. Thanks, Y/N/N," Steve exclaimed, urging Bucky out of the room.
"Okay, I'll see you around," she replied.
She had only just met him, but she already knew that Bucky Barnes was going to be the death of her. Or maybe the death of her resolution.
~April 17th~
After a few weeks of settling in, Bucky was ready to go on his first mission. The soldier was physically prepared from the beginning, but he had to undergo countless psych evaluations.
Y/N couldn't help but feel a little excited to see the Winter Soldier in action. The legends didn't do him justice from what she saw in the training room. And being able to go on a mission with him wasn't even the best part.
Steve paired them together. She assumed that it was because she was kinder and easier to get along with than some of the others on the team. Her caring nature and good advice made her approachable and well-liked. In other words, she was the perfect type of person to be around Bucky in his fragile state.
The mission was going well from the beginning. The two complimented each other perfectly. Not just psychologically, but also physically. Whatever one lacked, the other could make up for.
"Bucky, agent Y/L/N, start heading to the back of the building. I'll meet you there," Steve yelled over the comms.
"Okay, we're on our-" she started, but a deafening explosion interrupted her.
It sounded so distant and disassociated from her that she didn't even realize that it had come from her end she felt Bucky's body pressing her into the ground, his covering hers from harm.
He removed his weight and began shuffling with something in front of her, but she couldn't see through the smoke and debris in the air. She could only make out a thin outline of Bucky's features. His metal arm emerged from the dust to help her up. It was the first time she had seen it up close, and she wondered why he was using that arm instead of his favored one. She let herself be pulled up to stand next to him, and the cool metal gave some relief against the hot air trapping them.
He let out a grunt and place his other hand on the wall in front of them. Her eyes trailed up his arms, trying to figure out what he was doing.
After protecting her from the blast, he had somehow managed to get up fast enough to hold back the rubble that threatened to fall on them.
The bomb caused layers upon layers of wall and ceiling to crumble, which was even more detrimental to them because they were on the lowest level of the building. Bucky holding it up was the reason that they weren't jammed underneath the rubble.
"Steve, we're gonna need backup. There was a bomb, and now we're stuck on level three," Y/N called through the comms.
She ran over to help Bucky support the wall, but it was no use. If the super-soldier, who was known to lift cars and motorcycles, could barely hold it at maximum strength, she wasn't going to be much help.
"On my way," she heard Steve say through her earpiece.
She had to strain to hear his voice over the sounds of shifting metal and crumbling rocks.
"Are you okay?" Y/N asked Bucky even though she already knew the answer.
He didn't respond. Whether he didn't hear her or he was too focused respond, she didn't know. A steady stream of blood dripped from his fingers and onto the piles of dirt beneath them.
A thin layer of sweat covered his brow as he held back the pieces of the building. She had never felt so useless. She wasn't strong enough to help him hold it, and there was no way out except through the rubble that Bucky was holding up. It would be impossible to get out until Steve came to help Bucky.
"You've got this. Steve's almost here," Y/N yelled.
This time, Bucky nodded, which caused a few smaller pieces of debris to rain down on them. She ran to push the falling rocks away from his face.
"Thanks," he mumbled through gritted teeth.
But their efforts weren't enough. As soon as Y/N stepped away, there was a loud crash, and more rubble fell on top of the piece he was holding. Bucky strained against the crippling weight of the building parts, but chunks of cement began to slip through his fingers.
Knowing he couldn't support the weight, she pulled him into the corner the far corner of the small space they were crammed in. Without Bucky supporting it, the rubble crashed to the floor, leaving a thick layer of dust floating in the air. Y/N suppressed a shout as the building pushed them further into the corner.
There was no doubt in her mind that Bucky was uncomfortable in their proximity, but they didn't have another option. The rubble had consumed every inch up the prior space they had, trapping them in a heap of broken building parts.
Bucky's eyes wouldn't meet hers. He looked down in shame and twisted his metal arm behind his back again.
"Hey," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "It's not your fault."
Y/N's touch made him recoil slightly. It was easy to tell that it had been a long time since he had experienced physical contact like this. He peered at her through the sweat ridden hair covering his eyes.
"I should have heard them coming with that bomb," he coughed.
She shook her head. Her efforts to console him were futile, and she knew from his reaction that he would continue to ignore them.
"That's the most I've ever heard you speak," Y/N replied.
"I don't have much to say," he said.
She shook her head again.
"That can't be true. How can a man who has remained silent for so long have nothing to say?" she asked.
It could have been her imagining it, but Y/N swore she saw the hint of a smile on his face.
"I know you feel like you don't deserve to be here, but we all have our demons," she added, carefully choosing her words.
"Thanks," he responded.
"Bucky! Y/N!" she hard Steve's panicked voice say as he rummaged through the concrete and broken pieces.
"Over here!" you yelled.
~June 3rd~
"Whatcha drawing?" Y/N asked, eyes looming over Bucky's sketchbook.
He quickly shut it and slid the book and pencil in his pocket. It was hard to tell if he was annoyed at her because he had the same expression on his face as he always did: stone-faced assassin.
She slid into the chair in front of him. He squinted his eyes at her, clearly thinking it was weird for someone to desire to talk to him.
"So, how are you?" she asked.
"Fine."
It had been a while since she'd last talked to him, almost two weeks. The tension between them was so strong that even Y/N, a trained SHIELD agent, wanted to step away. Nevertheless, she persisted.
"Do you need something?" he asked, gazing up at her with his icy blue eyes.
"No, but you do."
He shifted in his seat, and his eyes went to the magazine shelf in the corner of the coffee shop, avoiding eye contact with her.
"I've decided that you need a friend." Y/N said, reinforcing her point.
Bucky raised an eyebrow.
"I have lots of friends," he argued.
"Steve only counts as one person, Bucky."
He cleared his throat and took a long sip of his drink. It smelled like coffee, but Y/N didn't know for sure what it was. He set it down with a soft thud and looked back to her.
"Okay, let's be friends."
~July 4th~
"I really don't want to," Bucky said, collapsing on his bed like a child.
"It's your best friend's birthday, Bucky," Y/N sighed, placing a manicured hand on his shoulder.
She scooped his tie off the floor and placed it in his hand, urging him to put it on.
"He won't be able to talk to me anyway," he complained.
Y/N pulled him up off the bed and grabbed the tie from his hand. After sliding it around his neck, she tied it and smoothed out the front of his suit.
"You can't just stay home when you look like this," she insisted, eyeing him up and down.
Bucky's cheeks turned a shade of pink she had never seen before. Was he blushing? God, she hoped so. After him being oblivious to her antics for over a month, she might have finally been getting somewhere.
"Come on. You'll be proud of yourself for going when this is over," Y/N said, pulling him out the door.
"Fine," he grumbled as he trudged after her.
The two rode the elevator down to the main floor where the party was. When Bucky got out, he stopped to stare in amazement. Ironically, Stark didn't like Cap that much, but he would use any excuse he could to create an over-the-top party.
After looking around, she noticed she didn't know most of the people there (and she doubted Steve did either). Red, white, and blue covered every available surface. In big red letters at the entrance to the room stood a giant sign that said "Happy Birthday Cap!"
Bucky remained silent in what she assumed was wonder. How long had it been since he had been to a party?
"Yeah, pretty cool, huh?" Y/N said.
She turned to him when he didn't answer. In his eyes was something she had never seen before: terror.
It all made sense now. Of course he didn't want to go. He hadn't been around this many people as himself in decades. Y/N wrung her hands together, embarrassed and feeling stupid for pressuring him to come.
"Hey, we don't have to stay if you don't want to. Do you wanna go back?" she asked him, concern lacing her features.
He nodded.
After dropping a depressed Bucky off at his room, Y/N went back to hers to change out of her party attire. She felt terrible for making him come. He was still healing and she pushed him far out of his comfort zone. She decided she would have to make it up to him.
On her way back to his room, she grabbed a bag of popcorn, a bottle of wine, and the Star Wars series (which he had been wanting to watch for a while).
She raised her fist to make a hesitant knock on his door. When he didn't answer, she knocked again, but there was still no sound from the other side.
"Bucky, you in there?" she called.
Where could he have gone? She had only been in her room for about twenty minutes, and it would have taken him at least ten to figure out how to take off his tie. She knocked one last time before deciding she should enter the room.
The door was unlocked, which was also unusual for Bucky. The first thing he did when he entered his room was lock the door.
"Bucky?" she called out again from the open doorway.
Her eyes scanned the room, looking for any sign of the soldier. Her trained ears heard faint breathing from behind his bed.
She dropped what she was holding to the floor ran toward the noise. A bare-chested Bucky sat in a shaking crouch on the floor. He was taking in giant breaths, but it seemed he couldn't get enough oxygen to his lungs. Y/N crouched down next to, him looking him over for any sign of harm. When she found none, she realized what was happening. Bucky was having a panic attack.
Steve had told her that he has them quite a lot, but she had never seen one herself. He said almost anything could set him off, which meant she had to be careful of what they talked about or did together.
She ran a hand through the curtain of hair covering his face to let him know she was there. She managed to pull the sweat-drenched hair out of his face so he could see her.
"I'm right here, Bucky. Everything's going to be okay. I promise."
Y/N reached over to grab his hands. He clenched eyes closed before opening them to meet hers.
"You're safe. I'm right here. I won't let anything happen to you." she reassured him.
"Do you want me to go get Steve?" she asked.
He viciously shook his head and pulled her closer to him.
"What can I do to help you?" Y/N questioned.
Bucky gripped her hands even tighter and pulled her to his chest. She released her hand from his metal one, knowing it made him uncomfortable.
"Keep breathing, Bucky. Everything's going to be okay. I'm right here." Y/N murmured into his ear, stroking his hair.
He let out another shaky breath and squeezed her hand tightly again.
"Thank you," he mumbled.
"I'm always here for you. That's what friends are for."
~August 24th~
"Are you sure these things are necessary?' Bucky asked waving the phone he'd bought in the electronics section.
"You won't be asking me that anymore when you download Twitter," Y/N said, thinking of her constant use of the app.
"What's Tweeter?" he questioned with that adorable confused look on his face.
"You'll figure it out," she answered, holding in a laugh.
He rolled his eyes at Y/N's antics, and awkwardly slid the device in his front pocket.
She smiled at him, and he walked a little slower to match her pace. The wind ruffled through his hair, causing it to stick up. She resisted the urge to smooth it down and tuck it behind his ear.
"Are you okay? You're looking at me kinda funny," he said, pulling Y/N off to the side of the street.
Yep, still oblivious.
"Yeah, it's just..." she said, refusing to meet his eyes.
Bucky waited for her to finish.
"Nevermind."
"Are you sure? You look a little pale." Bucky said.
"I'm okay."
~November 13th~
"I'm sorry you had to see that," Bucky said.
Y/N scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. Sure, it was jarring, but she had seen much worse on the battlefield.
"Bucky, you know I don't care about that. I came up here to make sure you were okay," she replied.
Y/N rubbed her hands up and down her arms. The cold wind bit at her skin. She hadn't been on the roof much, but she knew that Bucky went here often.
The grey sky churned and shifted, threatening to spill its tears on them. Bucky remained silent as the wind brushed past his face and through his hair, comforting him in ways that neither she or Steve could.
"Well, I'm not okay. Is that what you wanted to hear?" he asked.
She walked closer to him but kept her distance, knowing that he was still mad.
"I'm not a charity case," he said.
She gave up keeping a safe distance, and put her hand on his shoulder, rubbing small circles. He looked down are her with a harsh glare. His blue eyes were an angry sea crashing over her.
"I just want to help you, Buck," she replied, voice wavering.
He yanked his shoulder from her grasp and took a few steps away from her. Bucky shook his head, hair flying wildly around his face.
"But why? Why would anyone want to help me," he asked.
"Bucky, don't say-" Y/N began.
"No, you can't defend me, Y/N, and you know that. I just hurt someone. Bad. I'm a monster, and everyone but you seems to see that," he shouted.
"Nobody thinks that. We all want you here," Y/N said, attempting to console him.
Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes and onto the smooth surface of his face, and Y/N felt her own eyes fill with them. Bucky took another step backward, standing dangerously close to the edge of the building.
"You don't see it, but I do. You don't see how everyone only talks to me when they have to, how nobody wants to sit next to me, how nobody but you wants to work with me on missions because I'm a 'loose cannon.' Hell, even Steve doesn't want to be around me. He saved the old Bucky, and now he doesn't want to deal with the new one. I don't deserve you, Y/N. Why can't you see that?"
"You are the same Bucky you were and have always been. I'm not going to pretend like I know what you're going through because I don't, but-"
"See, you're doing it again. You're minimizing the crap I've done to make me seem like a better person. I know who I am, but I don't think you do," Bucky said.
His words went straight to Y/N's heart, causing the tears in her eyes to finally spill over.
"Shut up before you say something you regret. I know I haven't known you for as long as Steve, but I've been there for you since I've met you. I want to help you. I want you to get better because you deserve it. You are not your arm and you are not the actions Hydra forced you to do. You are not a monster, Bucky. I know that better than almost anyone."
Bucky stepped away from the building, causing her to let out a sigh of relief as he went to sit on the bench that overlooked the east side of the city. He leaned his head on his hands, raking his hands through his hair. Bucky let out a shaky breath, and she saw the tears in his eyes slide out and drip down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry, but I don't believe you. All I've done since we've met is drag you down. I don't understand how someone like you would want to help someone like me," Bucky admitted.
Y/N ran over to where he was sitting and kneeled in front of him. She pushed his hair our of his eyes, forcing him to look at her.
"Because I love you, you idiot."
~December 10th~
"Where are you going all dressed up like that?" Sam asked.
Y/N froze, remembering the resolution she made at the beginning of the year. From the smirk on his face, she could tell he knew where she was going.
"A date," she admitted.
"Well, you almost lasted a whole year. I have to give that to you," Sam said, laughing and shaking his head.
"Which guy's heart are you breaking this time?" he questioned.
Y/N rolled her eyes and checked her phone to see if Bucky had texted her yet. He was supposed to be there at seven and it was almost seven-thirty.
"Don't worry. There will be no heart-breaking. I like this guy a lot, and I think you will, too," you said.
She reached for your phone when you felt the familiar buzz of a text message, hoping it was Bucky.
Bucky: Sorry I'm running late. The meeting lasted longer than Steve told me it would. I'll be down in a sec
When she looked up again, Nat was standing next to Sam with the same smirk on her face as he did.
"Okay, fine. You guys were right. Now can you stop gloating?" Y/N said.
"I have to see who this guy is first, then I'll decide," Nat responded.
Her red hair was sweat-drenched, suggesting she just finished a training session.
"Hey, are you ready to go?" she heard a familiar voice say from behind her.
Y/N jumped in shock. She heard Bucky chuckling from behind her, and she whirled around to face him.
"I'm ready when you are," she promised, beginning to walk out of the building with Bucky.
"I wasn't expecting that," she heard Sam say.
Y/N slipped her hand into Bucky's, leaning into him. He smelled of like aftershave and detergent.
"I love you," she said.
"I love you, too."
Sure, she had broken her resolution, but after going on that date with Bucky, Y/N didn’t regret a thing.
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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Seat Thief (Peter Parker)
Word Count: 3.4k
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: Peter steals your favorite seat in the library. This results in several arguments as well as a date to the county fair. An inanimate object may have been the push you needed to finally get to know someone.
A/N: This is a long one, friends. I know that the Peter I wrote about is a little different than the MCU version, but I wanted to experiment with his character a bit. I hope you enjoy!
Please do not repost my work without my permission. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome and appreciated.
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You looked up from your textbook, catching an eyeful of the sun’s blinding light. The chair was directly facing the sun, and there was nothing to shield you from its rays, but that wasn't the only terrible aspect of the seat. The football team could be heard practicing outside, and there was something about sweaty males grunting that disgusted you. Yes, the spot was horrendous, but you were still sitting there.
And it was all because of him. The man that had stolen your favorite spot next to the north-facing window. You could never get a good look at his face, but you could tell from the untamed mass of brown, curly hair on his head and the paint-splattered denim jacket he wore that he was one of those “artsy” boys. He looked the part and held himself with the confidence of Van Gogh, but he probably couldn’t even draw a stick figure.  
You gazed at my textbook for what seemed like the thousandth time, trying to pretend that you were even remotely interested in the cell cycle. Maybe if you stared at the words long enough, your brain would magically determine their meaning. This would be much easier if you had your spot. The spot that you have sat in every day since the beginning of the semester.  
Feeling a hard gaze over your shoulder, you turned around, thinking that Meghan had finally shown up to your study session.
No.
It was him.
Seat-stealer extraordinaire.
You nearly jumped out of your skin as his hazel eyes scanned you over, picking apart every aspect of your current state.
“You know, if you wanted to sit there, all you had to do was ask,” he said, readjusting his red messenger bag on his shoulder.
As if on cue, a paintbrush tumbled out of the center pocket of the bag, rolling to a stop underneath your chair. You bent down and grabbed the art supply. It still smelled of fresh acrylic paint, and the wood could barely be seen beneath all of the layers of paint coating the handle.
You handed it back to him, angling your hand on the end of the brush so you wouldn’t have to make contact with his fingers, which were covered in splattered ink. He removed the bag from his shoulder and opened it, revealing at least 6 sketchbooks. Like the rest of his belongings, they were all covered in paint and what appeared to be charcoal.
He took the paintbrush from your hand and put it back in what you assumed was its proper place. Once again, he closed it and readjusted it on his shoulder.
Who brings art supplies to the library?
“Thanks, Y/N,” he said, leaving you just as shocked as when he approached you.
How did he know your name?
This pattern continued for the next few weeks. No matter how much earlier you went to the library, he would always get there before you. You were mildly irritated at the beginning, but now you wanted to march over and punch that stupid smirk off his face. He knew what he was doing to you, which made it 100 percent more enjoyable for him.
“Y/N, it’s just a seat.” You reminded yourself under my breath.
“But is it, though?” A familiar, honeyed voice said from behind your shoulder.
He slid into the seat to the left of yours and scooted your various notebooks over so he had room to put his signature red bag on the table. Oh, you were ready to give him a piece of your mind.
“Look, dude… I… you are… I need you to…” you said, struggling to find the right words to express your fury.
Now, a decent person might have given you a look of sympathy as you struggled with your words, but art-boy was not a decent person. He still had the same goofy smile on his face.
You took a deep breath and recollected my thoughts. There was no way that you were going to give him the satisfaction of rendering you speechless.
“I need my seat back. This might be some stupid game to you, but…”
You weren’t able to finish your sentence because you had a moment of realization. Were you seriously yelling at this random guy for sitting in a chair…in the library?
Before you could redeem yourself, the man spoke.
“Okay, Y/N. Let’s make a deal. I’ll give you your seat back if you answer a few of my questions.”
You raised my eyebrows at him. It would be a small price to pay for the best seat in the library.
“Fine, but only if you answer a few of mine,” you countered, throwing in a completely unsuccessful wink.
He laughed and ran his hand through his tangled hair.
So much for trying to look cool.
“Okay, you have a deal,” he said.
He stared at you for a few seconds before pulling a wrinkled piece of notebook paper out of his bag.
“Well, are you going to ask something?” you asked, growing impatient.
He scanned the paper one more time before placing his finger on one particular line.
“Okay, what is your favorite flavor of gum?” he asked.
“What kind of question is that?” you replied.
“Just answer it.”
“Mint I guess,” you answered.
He wrote something down on the paper with a fluorescent green pen and looked up at you again. You looked more closely at the paper, becoming curious as to what was on it.
The paper was full of questions scrawled in messy black ink. It was numbered up to twenty-five, and under number seven, he had written your answer to the question.
“Number two, what’s your major?” he asked, distracting you from his list.
“Biology,” you said.
“Cool, I’m an English major,” he said, as he wrote down your answer under number nineteen.
English? You thought that for sure he was an art major. The painting must have just been a hobby.
“Number thr- ” he began, but you cut him off before he could continue.
“Sorry, you only get two questions. Now it’s my turn,” you said, adding in a shrug.
He nodded, looking at you expectantly.
“First, who are you and how do you know my name?” you asked.
“Ah, good questions. I’m Peter Parker,” he said, holding out his hand for you to shake.
You reluctantly shook his cold hand then put yours back on top of your textbook.
“Oh, and I know your name because it’s on your bag,” he said.
You peered down at your bag next to your chair. The dark letters of your name could have been visible from many feet away. Knowing that he hadn't stalked you down gave you a bit of comfort.
His fingers swept across the wrinkled list, stopping on number 23. Peter pursed his lips, continuing to run his finger over the imprinted words.
“What’s the list for?” you asked.
“Sorry you only get two questions,” he said, imitating what you said before.
He stood up to collect his things and tucked the question list carefully back into the pocket where he retrieved it from. His lips showed the hint of a smile, and his hazel eyes looked at you mischievously. Of course, he was going to mess with you again.
“Are you seriously not going to answer the question?” you asked him.
“Yup, I’ll see you around, Y/N.” He said.
Before you could argue with him again, he retreated down the winding rows of books and to the exit of the library. His wild hair flowed around him like a halo, but he was anything but an angel. You couldn’t help but scoff at him.
He wasn’t as bad as you had thought, but he was still so... strange. You just couldn’t put your finger on him. Every time you thought you understood him, he sent you another sly smirk or pulled out yet another art supply.
After all that, and you didn’t even want to move back to your seat. He had contaminated it with his questions and acrylic paint.
~~~
It was yet another Wednesday in the library when you saw Peter again. This time he had switched up the denim jacket with red flannel, and he didn’t hesitate to approach you when he entered the library.
“After all that and you aren’t even sitting in your seat,” he said, scooting into the chair to the right of me this time.
“I guess it wasn’t as good as I thought it was,” you said.
“Interesting. The results of my calculations have proven to me that the seat you’re sitting in is, in fact, the very best seat in this whole library,” he said.
You raised your eyebrows and looked up from your pile of work.
“And what exactly do your calculations consist of?” you asked.
“Well, I would tell you, but I think it would be too difficult for you to understand. It’s an English major thing,” he said in mock overconfidence.
You rolled my eyes and went back to work, wanting him to leave you alone. Essays and homework assignments would not wait for his stupidity.
“It’s your turn to ask a question first,” he stated.
You thought you were done with that, and you most definitely did not have the time to answer his questions or ask any. You were about the shrug him off, but then you remembered…
The list.
You had to know what it was.
“Okay, fine. What’s that list for?” you asked, pretending to be uninterested.
Peter sighed and pulled the well-loved list of questions from his bag.
“It’s for this book I’m working on. I have always had trouble making my characters seem realistic and have natural human flaws. I don’t want my characters to just be words on a page. I want them to be real, you know? The questions help me with character development” he said.
“Are you saying that my favorite gum being mint is a flaw?” you asked.
“Well, in my personal opinion, yes. How could mint be your favorite flavor when there are thousands of other, better ones? Seriously, are you even human? But as for my book, anything stands,” he responded.
“That’s cool. I didn’t know you were working on a book,” you said, ignoring his insult.
“Well you don’t really know anything about me yet,” he responded.
His eyes completely lit up when he talked about his writing. Their usual dull hazel color was transformed into a beautiful honey brown.
The bright sun shed its light on you once again, illuminating the freckles on Peter's face. Most of your friends with freckles constantly complained about them, but Peter didn’t seem like the type to complain about anything. He held himself like he was just told he was a millionaire, and there was almost always a smile (or a smirk) on his face.
“My turn,” he said.
You nodded in his direction, encouraging him to continue.
“What’s your phone number?” he asked.
Out of all the things that could have come out of Peter Parker's mouth, that was the last possible thing that you thought you would ever hear him say.
“And what does that have to do with your book?” you questioned skeptically.
“Nothing. I just like talking to you,” he said.
He slid a piece of paper and the familiar green fluorescent pen over to you. Did you really want to do this? No, you don’t owe him anything.
But there was that mystery around Peter that you just had to get to the bottom of.
You wrote my number on the paper with the obnoxious green pen and slid it back over to him.
“Thanks, Y/N.” He said, leaving just as quickly as he had gotten there.
~~~
Unknown Number: Hey, Y/N/N this is Peter.
You: Don’t call me that
Unknown Number: Got it
Unknown number has been changed to “Seat Thief”
You: I can’t talk right now. I’m busy
Seat Thief: I can see you from outside the library window. You’re not doing anything.
You: So you’re stalking me now?
Seat Thief: No, I just happened to walk by the window that you are always at.
You: Haha very funny
~~~
“You know there are other places to hang out besides the library, right?” Peter said.
“Well, yeah, but we met in the library, so I’m just keeping the tradition. You know?” you responded.
He laughed forcefully, clearly trying to make you seem funnier than you were. Despite your initial dislike for him, the action made you grin. And no, it wasn’t one of those cheap smiles. It was a full-on grin that made the apples of your cheeks hurt.
This made your overall dislike for him lessen slightly.
Only a little bit.
Maybe you enjoy seeing his tousled, chestnut hair and paint-splattered clothes (which you have since learned was purely accidental), but that’s beside the point.
“We should go somewhere that’s not the library, so I can see non-study Y/N,” Peter suggested, causing you to groan internally.
“So… the campus cafeteria?” you said.
“Nowhere on campus,” He said.
You didn’t hide your groan this time.
"No, thanks. That's how people get murdered," you replied.
“I think you’re just scared to get to know me,” Peter said, smirking deviously.
“Am not.”
“Then prove it.”
He’d done it again. Peter Parker had rendered you speechless. You messed with your hair and looked him in the eyes for what felt like the first time.
“What’s with the intensity, Y/N/N?” Peter asked.
“I’m trying to establish my dominance. And don’t call me Y/N/N” I said.
“Please,” He said, dragging the ending out much longer than necessary.
“Fine.”
Peter pumped his arms up in silent victory, and his joyous eyes found yours once again. His hazel orbs met your own for much longer than necessary. It was a waiting game. Who was going to crack first?
You.
"Okay, fine. Let's go to that fair that everyone's talking about," you said.
Peter nodded, then pulled out a thick, wire-bound notebook covered in his green scrawl. He ran his finger over each of the lines of handwriting, stopping occasionally.
"Other than writing a few papers, my schedule is clear this weekend. How about Saturday night?" Peter asked, showing you his notebook.
"Sounds good. Now leave me alone. I have to study," you vented.
"Cool. It's a date," he quipped.
Before you could correct him, Peter had already gathered his things and was running to the doors of the library. He would have made it out in time, but the librarian began yelling at him for running in the "study space."
Aware that you were watching him, Peter gave you an awkward thumbs up. You gave him one back, hoping that you didn't look as ridiculous as him. And with that, Peter Parker was gone, leaving you by yourself to study for your Chemistry test.
~~~
Seat Thief: Hey, what time are we meeting?
You: idk 6?
Seat Thief: ok see you then
You: ✌️
~~~
"You look nice," Peter complimented, taking in your appearance.
"Thanks," you said, shoving your hands into the pockets of your hoodie.
You weren't exactly sure what you were supposed to do now. Most of the games were dominated by little kids, and the lines to all the rides were extremely long.
The smell of funnel cake and cotton candy drifted through the air as you and Peter wandered the fairground.
"Let's do something. I'm dying of boredom," Peter announced.
"And what do you suggest we do?" you asked.
Peter's eyes wandered over the various games and activities. Instead of telling you what he thought, he grabbed your hand and began running to the left.
In any other situation, you would have removed your hand from his, but his terrifyingly quick pace and the randomness of the direction caused you to hold onto his hand with a tenacious grip. Lucky for you, there was no paint covering it this time.
To your relief, Peter stopped running, but your legs hadn't gotten the message yet. He gripped your shoulders to stop you as you almost ran into the hotdog cart. The woman in charge of the cart gave you a fierce glare and slammed her hands onto the table.
"Dumb teenagers," she mumbled under her breath.
Peter rolled his eyes, and pulled you over to a booth labeled "Fresh and Hot Funnel Cakes." A burly man sporting a giant mustache greeted you and pointed you to the menu.
"What was that all about?" you asked, still out of breath.
"You looked like you needed some excitement," Peter said.
That dumb, idiotic, stupid smirk covered his face again, but you couldn't help but smile back at him.
"Let's get funnel cakes. My treat," he suggested.
"It's okay. I can-" you began, but Peter had already handed you the fried dessert.
"Thanks."
"No problem."
Somehow, Peter's hand had found yours again, but this time you didn't mind. You were beginning to get used to the unfamiliar feeling of him.
He glanced at your uneaten funnel cake and frowned. Despite it only being about five minutes after he had boughten it, Peter had already finished his.
"Are you one of those people that only drink liquids?" he asked.
What?
"Uh, no. Why would you think that?" you said, finally shoving a piece it into your mouth.
"Just wondering," he mumbled.
He gazed longingly at your funnel cake, and you didn't want to torture him by eating in front of him anymore. You split it in half and gave the larger piece to him.
"Thanks," he said, practically inhaling the it.
You chuckled at his behavior.
"So, tell me something about you that I don't know," Peter declared.
"Okay, um-" you paused, thinking of something to say.
The giant Ferris Wheel that the fair was famous for then came into view. You could see the few people riding the attraction from where you were standing, and their joy was infectious.
"I love Ferris Wheels," you mentioned, hoping that he would catch on.
Peter's hazel eyes scanned the ride then came back to you. He removed his hand from yours and place it on the small of your back.
"Well, let's go on it then," he said.
~~~
The night sky was beautiful from your seat, and you were going to treasure the next 17 minutes that you spent on the ride.
As a result of the seat being so small, you were practically sitting on top of Peter, but neither of you minded. The barriers you had possessed were broken long ago when you suggested going to the fair.
"I'm glad I stole your seat," Peter said.
"Me, too," you admitted.
He beamed and scooted even closer to you, which you hadn't thought was possible.
The bright lights of the Ferris Wheel shone on his face, illuminating his features in bright hues of green and orange. He turned to you and slid his hand in yours.
You had never been one to thrive on the touches of others, but every time you came in contact with him, your heart felt as if it were going to burst out of your chest. It was so loud that you swore Peter could have heard it (you would later learn that he definitely heard it thanks to his spidey senses).
The grip between your two hands tightened as Peter continued to lean in. His lips were so close to yours. So close you could feel the softness of them brush up against yours.
The kiss was hesitant at first, and you worried that you had made a mistake, but Peter tangled his hand in your hair, pulling you further into the intoxication of the moment.
You could have stayed there forever, and you would have if it weren't for the buzzer signifying that the ride was over. Your foreheads rested together as you both regained the breath that you had lost to one another.
"Um, can you guys, like, get off? We have people waiting," the worker said, impatiently opening the door to your seat.
~~~
Seat Thief: Thanks for last night
You: No problem. We definitely need to do that again
Seat Thief: Kissing or going to the fair?
You: Both
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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Christmas Morning (Tony Stark)
This is part of day twelve of my 12 Days of Marvel series. Merry Christmas!
Word Count: 400
Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader
Summary: You and Tony both break the promise you made to not buy each other Christmas presents.
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You woke up, heart racing, and immediately turned to Tony. On any other occasion, you would have let him sleep in, but you didn't think that you could wait any longer before getting up.  As you shook his sleeping form, you could barely contain your excitement.
"Tony, it's Christmas!" you shouted.
He groaned and squinted up at you, trying to get used to the light. You were so ecstatic that you didn't even care when his morning breath blew in your face.
You and Tony had promised that you wouldn't buy any gifts for each other that year. Both of you didn't really need anything, and it felt pointless to you to spend so much money on one occasion. Instead, you planned to spend the day playing games, making food, and enjoying the other's company.
"C'mon, let's get up and make breakfast," you said, shaking Tony again.
After a few more minutes of persuading, Tony got out of bed and accompanied you to the kitchen.
You worked on putting the cinnamon rolls in the oven while he did the eggs and bacon. As the food cooked, you two danced around the kitchen to your favorite Christmas songs, enjoying the moments you spent with one another.
After breakfast, you retreated to the living room to watch a Christmas movie in your pajamas.
"Noooo, I don't want to watch Home Alone again," you said.
"Y/N, that's easily the best Christmas movie," he announced.
You were about to go off on a rant about how Home Alone was the worst Christmas movie ever made, but something in the living room stopped you in your tracks. You couldn't decide if you should be happy or angry.
Presents surrounded the oversized Christmas tree that you and Tony decorated back in November. Each was covered in wrapping paper, and a beautifully placed gold bow, suggesting that Tony paid someone to wrap them for him
When had he even found the time to do that? You could have sworn that you never heard him leave the bed that night. He wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you in a scent that was purely him.
"Tony, we promised," you said into his chest.
"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," he mumbled, a grin lacing his features.
You smiled into his chest, knowing that you had the same predicament. Separating yourself from your boyfriend, you went behind the couch to where you had hidden the Christmas presents you bought him.
"It's okay. I couldn't either."
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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Christmas Cheer (Bucky Barnes)
This is part of day twelve of my 12 Days of Marvel series. Merry Christmas!
Word Count: 500
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You give Bucky some Christmas cheer by decorating his apartment in secret.
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You had only been in Bucky's apartment in the compound a few times, but you knew that his room was plain. The one mildly interesting thing was a rustic bookshelf full of informational books and old poetry. Other than that, his living space was very sparse. He only had the bare necessities, and you would often wonder how he managed to live there.
For Christmas, you wanted to surprise him. It had started with you planning to decorate his door with Christmas lights and other shiny decorations, but you decided to go bigger than that.
So that's how you ended up breaking into Bucky's room. It took you a week to figure out the door code to his room, but you finally figured it out the day before when you spied on him as he punched it in. You had no idea how you were going to explain this to him, and there was a very high chance that he would barge in and kill you. The only thing you had on your side was Christmas spirit, and you hoped that would be enough for him
You only had about 20 minutes before he came back from his morning run, and your heart was beating so fast you could barely move. You ran over to the extension cord you had placed in the right corner of the living room and plugged the lights in. The twinkling colors filled your vision and cast bright shadows across the surrounding walls.
The only thing you had left to do was set up the mini Christmas tree. You pulled the scratchy decoration out of its box and uncurled the branches. The ornament selection at the store you went to was huge, but you settled on a box of sparkly gold ones. Everyone likes gold, right?
You placed the ornaments on the mini tree and plugged it in with the other Christmas lights. A big tree would have looked nicer, but you didn't want to overwhelm him. Even the mini-tree was a little much for the minimalistic style of the apartment.
After taking one last look at the ribbons, glittery decorations, and lights you placed in the apartment, you gathered the empty boxes that were strewn across the floor and left the apartment. You were sure to lock it on your way out so he wouldn't think that anyone had broken in (even though you did).
As soon as you got back to your apartment, you regretted everything. Worried thoughts plagued your mind, and you couldn't help but want to go back and remove everything that you had put up.
You looked at the clock. Bucky was a man of habit, and according to this, he just got back from his walk about two minutes ago. Being careful not to make any noise, you exited your apartment and walked in the direction of his. You HAD to know what his reaction was.
His door was strewn open, and his running bag was left at the opening. You peeked your head in and saw Bucky gazing at the lights you had put around the room.
Then you saw it.
A beautiful smile covered his face, rosy cheeks and all. Seeing that smile made decorating the apartment worth it for you (even if you could have died while doing so).
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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Gingerbread House (Peter Parker)
This is part of day twelve of my 12 Days of Marvel series. Merry Christmas!
Word Count: 1.1k
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: You and Peter create an elaborate gingerbread house together.
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You dumped the bags full of supplies onto the table in Peter's dining room. The kits came with supplies, but these were not enough to fill your desires. Making the best gingerbread house meant you needed more than just the five peppermints and 2 oz bag of frosting that came in the kit.
"Are you ready for this?" you asked him.
He gave you a mock salute and said, "I was born ready."
Peter then gathered several bowls and cups to put the various types of candy in. You dumped the different types of candy into the bowls, being careful not to mix any together.
Luckily, you had bought extra candy because Peter had already eaten his weight in gumdrops and you hadn't even started yet. After you finished separating the candy and icing colors, Peter brought out a sheet of paper and colored pencils to sketch what you were going to make.
You decided to leave this to him. That was partly because you didn't feel like arguing with him, but also because Peter had a knack for this sort of thing. You tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear as he drew the gingerbread house plan. He was in utter concentration, and you didn't want to disturb him too much.
"Can you pass me the brown colored pencil?" he asked.
"Cinnamon brown or coffee brown?" you replied, shuffling through the pencils.
He groaned in dejection and collapsed onto the table as well as a few bowls of candy. You maneuvered them out from underneath his arm so that it wouldn't spill.
"There's no chocolate brown?" he muttered.
"Is there even a difference?" you questioned.
He sighed and grabbed the box of colored pencils from in front of you. After shuffling through it for a few moments, the same sorrowful look reappeared on his face.
"Coffee brown will have to do," he said.
You passed him the pencil, and he resumed his work. Other than him occasionally stealing bits of candy, the house of still. It gave you a moment to admire your boyfriend has he worked on the sketch. You had suggested following the instructions on the box, but Peter insisted that you two create your own design. He was never one to take the easy way out.
"I'm finished," he announced.
He held up his drawing towards you in pride. Peter then explained the key functions of what he had drawn and what this required of you both skill-wise. You noticed that he had added an overhang coming off of the house.
"What's that for?" you asked, pointing at it.
"It's for the gingerbread people's cars. We'll have to make it out of graham crackers," he said.
You nodded and pinned his sketch onto the wall in front of you. The drawing stood out proudly against the beige color of the wall behind it. It's bright colors and whimsical swirls gave the room an added Christmas cheer.
You and Peter then went to work on the gingerbread house. He held the gingerbread pieces in place as you glued them with the extra red icing you had bought. Then you took turns holding them in place as they dried.
Once you had put the pieces of the house together, you made an action plan. You would work on the roof and overhang of the house while Peter would work on the garden and creating the little cars for the gingerbread people.
You used white icing to cement the pieces of crushed peppermint to the overhang of the house, and this gave the appearance of icicles. The roof was the most difficult part of the house, which was why Peter had given it to you. He was great at sketching it out, but doing it as neatly as he had drawn it proved to be difficult for him.
First, you would carefully cut each gumdrop in half, then you would arrange the halves on the roof in rainbow order. It was very time-consuming, and one wrong move could cause the house to topple over.
Twenty minutes later, you had finished your task and were waiting on Peter to put the cars that he had sculpted from marshmallows under the overhanging.
"The gingerbread people are going to love this," he said.
"I think they will, too," you replied.
Laughing, you removed the two gingerbread people from the kit. You handed one to Peter and took the other for yourself. You each made a person from the gingerbread family and placed them in the garden that Peter made in the back of the house.
Two hours and many empty candy bowls later, you and Peter had finally finished decorating the house. It looked just like the drawing, and the joy on his face made the tiring process worth it. He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek to show his appreciation.
"We did it!" you exclaimed, holding up your hand for a high five.
Peter returned the gesture and stepped back to take in the entire structure. He grinned, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer.
"Thanks for bearing with me," he said.
"Anytime, Parker," you replied, resting your forehead against his.
He closed his eyes and leaned into your warm touch.
"I love you," he said.
Before you could reply, his lips were are on yours, and all you could think, breathe, and feel was Peter Parker. He slipped his hands onto the backs of your thighs, and carefully lifted you onto the kitchen table, deepening the kiss.
A loud crunch and a sharp pain in your rear end caused you to break the moment of passion. At first, you thought that it was one of the few remaining bowls full of candy, but you gasped when you realized what it was.
Peter lifted you off of the table and gave you a horrified expression. All the work that remained of the gingerbread house was a pile of broken cookies pieces and candy. The cute gingerbread family that you created had been torn apart by your backside.
You didn't know how to react other than to laugh. Peter didn't show any sign of joining you at first, but he soon collapsed on the floor in a fit of laughter.
Once you stopped laughing, you ran to grab your phone. You wanted to take a picture of this so you could remember the moment forever.
"I can't believe that just happened," Peter said, finally catching his breath.
"Also," he said, pausing to laugh again, "you have frosting on your butt."
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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Sugar Cookies (Thor)
This is part of day twelve of my 12 Days of Marvel series. Merry Christmas!
Word Count: 700
Pairing: Thor x Reader
Summary: Thor helps you make Christmas sugar cookies.
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The sugar cookies that you made each Christmas were a favorite around the Avengers compound. Everyone would wait for the day when they could be reunited with their soft sweetness once again.
Thor was especially obsessed with them. You were positive that Thor was the person who stole an entire plate of cookies from you last year, but he would never admit to it.
This year, he had offered to help you make them. You were suspicious that the only reason he was doing this was to get access to more cookies, but you agreed to let him help.
You got up bright and early the next morning, ready for a day full of baking and endless amounts of sugar. Thor soon joined you in the tiny kitchen in your apartment in the Avenger's complex. There was usually enough room for you, but Thor's added body made space tight.
"Oh, crap. I forgot to take the butter out of the fridge last night," you said.
Thor didn't respond. He seemed to be too distracted with the various supplies lining your kitchen counter. You walked the short distance to your fridge and pulled the butter out.
"Here, put this stick of butter in the microwave for five seconds on each side," you said, handing him the butter and a plate to place it on.
Thor raised his eyebrows in confusion but went over in the general direction of the microwave. You heard him pressing buttons, so you assumed that he had figured it out. While he did that, you began mixing the dry ingredients.
"Um, Y/N, I think I messed up," you heard him say.
"Thor, you can't mess up-"
Oh.
He had somehow completely melted the butter, and it was now dripping out of the microwave and onto the floor. You ran to grab a towel from one of your drawers and began mopping up the melted butter.
"Sorry..." he said.
"It's okay. I wasn't very clear with the instructions," you replied.
You handed him the whisk and asked him to mix the dry ingredients while you finished cleaning up the mess he made. That was simple enough for him, right?
Apparently, it wasn't because when you had turned around to check on him, the entire bowl of ingredients was spilled onto the counter in front of him. He was desperately trying to scoop it back into the bowl, but you caught him before he could continue.
"Um, I messed up again," he said with a frown.
From that point on, you decided that Thor would not participate in the baking process, but he could watch. Looking back on what he had told you about his life, it made sense that he failed. He had probably never baked something before. Why would he when he had chefs that could do it for him ten times better than he could do it himself?
It ended up being very nice to have Thor's company while you were baking. He asked you several face-palm-worthy questions, but you were happy to explain what you were doing. You felt appreciative that he was allowing you to share your creative outlet with him.
When the cookies were done, you laid them out on the table and grabbed the frosting that you had made the previous day. You showed him how to ice the cookies and put the Christmas sprinkles on them in the most mess-free way. It took him four broken cookies and a giant glob of frosting on the floor, but you had to admit that he was doing much better than earlier.
Frosting them went much fast with an extra set of hands, and the job only took you about twenty minutes in total. After you were done, you gave him a high five and sent him away with two plates of cookies for his hard work.
So in the end, you both got what you had wanted. Thor got extra cookies (which hopefully meant that he wouldn't steal any this year), and you got to understand him a bit better. The messes that he made were a small price to pay for the memories that you shared.
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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Christmas Traditions (Wanda Maximoff)
This is part of day twelve of my 12 Days of Marvel series. Merry Christmas!
Word Count: 400
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Summary: You and Wanda have very specific Christmas Eve traditions.
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You and Wanda had created several traditions since your beginnings as a couple, but your favorite by far was on Christmas Eve. Spending this time with her was almost more fun than Christmas itself.
In the morning, Wanda would make chocolate chip pancakes, and you would enjoy these with a steaming mug of hot cocoa. The warmness of the meal in combination with spending time with your beautiful girlfriend made your heart swell with love.
You would spend the rest of the day lounging around, just enjoying being close to one another. Wanda would always offer to make lunch, but you declined each time. Instead, you would make grilled cheese sandwiches, and you two would eat them outside on the back porch. It didn't matter how cold it was. You would always eat lunch outside to enjoy the scenery of snowy New York.
The rest of your day would be spent in the kitchen together where you would begin working on Christmas Eve dinner. You never invited anyone else to come over, but you always made enough food to feed a family. One should never underestimate how much Wanda Maximoff could eat.
During dinner, you would listen to Christmas music, and take occasional breaks to dance around the living room. Wanda would force you to dance with her whenever Frank Sinatra came on because his music is "so romantic." You always did because it would make her so happy each time.
After dinner was cleaned up, you would make yet another cup of hot cocoa. This would be enjoyed while you watched you and Wanda's favorite Christmas movie: Jingle all the Way.
Each year, Wanda would always fall asleep on your shoulder halfway through the movie, and you would carry her into your bedroom. You often wondered if she had ever seen the end of the movie. You would fall asleep next to her at night, pondering all the wonderful things you did that day.
It may seem boring to an outsider that you and your girlfriend do the same thing each year, but you loved it. Having that organization gave you something to look forward to. You would always know that the day would make Wanda happy, and that was what was most important to you.
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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Elf on the Shelf (Natasha Romanoff)
This is part of day twelve of my 12 Days of Marvel series. Merry Christmas!
Word Count: 600
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Summary: You and Natasha engage in an Elf on the Shelf battle.
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What had started as a joke was now an all-out war.
Last Christmas, you jokingly put up an elf on the shelf. Each day, you would put it in a different spot. It started innocent, but you quickly escalated in the craziness of the hiding spots. You would put the elf, which you named Snowflake, in increasingly inconvenient places, but you wouldn't let Natasha move him because he would "Lose his magic."
Natasha eventually got fed up and bought her own elf, which she named Twinkle. You settled down a bit after this but went back to your mischevious ways when you would have the elves go on dates together. Snowflake and Twinkle's relationship would continue to blossom, and they would even have a wedding.
You became so emotionally invested in the elves that you cried when you had to put them away with the rest of the Christmas decorations.
"But they haven't even had kids yet!" you cried.
"We can take them out next year," she promised, but it was barely intelligible through her laughter.
Lucky for you, it was finally December, and you could take out Snowflake and Twinkle once again. Natasha made you promise that you wouldn't do anything crazy with them this year, but the very next day you had already broken it.
You arranged every single shoe that you and her own in a spiral across your living room and put a little sign around Snowflake's neck that said "The shoe-shoe train."
It was from that point onward that Natasha fought back with no mercy. She didn't seem like the type to care so much about a stuffed toy, but she was ruthless. The battle became intense. You both fought with no remorse. Each position became more intense and better than the next.
You were both waking up earlier and earlier to place your elf before the other. Most days she succeeded in this, but your spirit did not die. This only pushed you to think of even better ideas to get her back.
The best of Natasha's placements, in your opinion, was when she dressed Twinkle up as Spider-man and hung him from the ceiling. You almost didn't notice the elf, but it smacked you in the face when you were making coffee, causing you to spill the hot liquid on the counter. As it dripped on the floor, Natasha laughed maniacally, doubling over in laughter. You had to admit, it was quite funny.
Your favorite of your placements was when you had managed to wake up before Natasha one Tuesday morning. To get back at her for causing you to spill your coffee, you put Twinkle in a container of water and placed it in the freezer. When she woke up later that morning, she looked everywhere for Twinkle but didn't find him until you asked her to get you some ice-cream later that afternoon. You thought she was going to kill you when she saw the poor elf frozen in ice, but it was worth it to finally get back at her.
Although you were technically in a competition, you couldn't help but enjoy your time with the elves. It brought out a side of Natasha that you didn't get to see very often. The elves gave you something that you could do together, even if it got out of hand sometimes. They made each Christmas better, and they helped you realize how important she was to you.
So, in the end, you owed Twinkle and Snowflake a thank you. Probably an apology, too, for all of the crap you put them through
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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Snowman (Peter Parker)
This is day eleven of my 12 Days of Marvel series.
Word Count: 1k
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: You and Peter decide that you are never too old to build a snowman.
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You and Peter had been waiting for this moment all year: the first snow of winter in New York. As soon as you were both done with your responsibilities for the day, you put on your winter jackets and boots and ran outside into the snow.
It had stopped snowing by then, but a thick layer it covered the ground. While the cold was nice, it wasn't the only thing you and Peter loved about winter. Your favorite part of the season was building a snowman behind the compound. You and Peter were determined to prove that kids weren't the only people who could build snowmen.
Last year, you and Peter had built an army of miniature snowmen covering the expanse of the yard behind the compound. It had taken you several hours, but it was worth it to see the finished product. And when you got tired of the snowmen being there, you and Peter would use them as target practice. It was a lot easier to train with globs of ice that don't move than with people.
This year, you wanted to do something even bigger. Peter had suggested making a snowmen fortress, but you wanted to make a life-sized snowman. After many hours of you persuading him, he gave in and agreed that you two would make a giant snowman.
You had thought that making the single snowman would be easier than the army you made the previous year, but you were wrong. The giant snowballs had to be rolled across the ground until they were a desirable size, and this took a very long time. The bottom snowball ended up being so heavy that Peter had to help you roll it to the place you set aside for it.
The next part of the snowman was also much more difficult than you had anticipated. You and Peter split off to do separate parts of the body to make the work go faster. While you did the head, he did the midsection. This was easier than the bottom, but there was a giant problem posed when you came back together with your parts. How were you supposed to get them on top of the bottom?
Peter had tried lifting the parts, but they slipped out of his hands each time.
"Oh! I have an idea. I'll be right back," he said.
He then ran back into the front entrance of the compound, leaving you alone in the icy weather. To pass the time, you began repairing the cracks that had appeared on the midsection snowball after Peter had dropped it several times. When you were finished with this, he still wasn't back yet, so you decided to go back into the compound and find a few items to decorate the snowman.
You grabbed a scarf and hat from the lost and found at the front entrance, hoping that their owners would understand that the snowman needed the belongings as much as they did. You then headed to the kitchen to find a carrot for its nose. This was supposed to be the easiest task, but apparently none of the Avengers liked carrots because there were none in sight.
"There you are! Look, I found the perfect way to lift the snowballs," you heard Peter say from behind you in the kitchen.
You turned around from your position at the fridge to see Peter holding his web-shooters in the air. That was genius! Why hadn't you thought of that earlier?
~~~
After a bit of maneuvering, Peter managed to place the other snowballs on top of the larger one. He had to hang from a nearby tree with one hand while using the other to pull the snowball on top. When he was finished, the snowman stood even taller than you had intended. It was at least 2 feet over Peter's head.
"How are we supposed to put his face on?" you asked.
The web-shooters wouldn't work as well for the more intricate pieces. He motioned for you to come closer to him.
"I'll lift you," he said.
You walked over to him and climbed onto his back. When he stood up, you were eye level with the giant snowman. Peter handed you the pieces from below, and you carefully pushed them into the snow.
You had to settle for a pointy rock as a nose, but he still looked pretty dashing. After you finished wrapping the scarf around your creation, you called for him to put you down. He set you down in the snow and took a step back to admire the snowman.
"It looks awesome!" he said.
You nodded in agreement.
"Here, I'll take a picture to send to Mr. Stark," he said, pulling out his phone from his jacket pocket.
Before he could snap a picture of the snowman, there was a loud crunching sound. You ran over to it, noticing that the midsection was starting to slide off.
"Peter, it's breaking!" you cried.
You pushed at the snow in desperation, willing it to stay in place. Peter ran over to help you, but as soon as he placed his hands on the snowman, a shower of snow and ice poured over you.
You wiped the stinging, cold snow from your eyes, and glanced over at Peter. You were afraid to look at your creation to see how much damage was done, but Peter's gasp told you that it wasn't good. When you looked over, there was nothing left of your snowman except a pile of broken snow and snowman accessories. The only layer that was still intact was the heavy bottom one.
"Are you kidding me?" Peter yelled at the snowman.
You put your hand on his shoulder in an attempt to console him. Peters shrugged you off and dug through the snow to find the snowman's facepieces.
"Hey, at least this gives us something to do tomorrow," you suggested.
"I guess you're right," he began, "but next time we are building the fortress."
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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Memories (Bucky Barnes)
This is day ten of my 12 Days of Marvel series.
Word Count: 900
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You tell bucky how much he means to you. + "I will never forget the moment I fell in love with you."
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Bucky's eyes poured over the various photo albums open in front of him. Pictures of you and him with broad smiles looked back at you, causing you to reminisce on the memories you and your fiancé had shared. Bucky proposed two weeks ago, and you were looking back on what made your relationship.
The air conditioner turned on again, causing you to snuggle closer to Bucky and wrap the blanket tighter around your arms. He intertwined his right hand with yours and continued examining the photographs. You played with the dark strands of his hair, twirling them in your fingers.
He looked away from the memories and glanced at your blanker-covered form. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he continued staring at you.
"What did I do to deserve you? To deserve all of this?" he asked, gesturing toward the open photo books.
Your heart broke at his questions. Helping Bucky understand that he was worth it was one of your main goals when you began dating, but you weren't always successful.
"I love you, and that's why I'm going to marry you. You complete me in every aspect, Bucky," you said.
To your dismay, he didn't seem convinced. You put removed your hand from his and put it on his back, rubbing small circles into his blue T-shirt.
"I'm going to tell you a story," you said.
"A story?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Yes, and you better listen, Barnes," you replied.
~~~
The lights glistened and reflected off of the glass in your hands. This was your first party of Tony's that you went to, and you were underwhelmed, to be honest. You thought it was going to be more Avengers-focused, but you didn't know 90% of the people there.
Instead of making a fool of yourself in front of the rich billionaires, you stood in the corner. It was ten, but you didn't want to leave yet because you had spent so much on your outfit. Where else were you going to wear it to?
A gentle tap on your shoulder distracted you from your thoughts. To your surprise, it was Bucky Barnes. You hadn't talked much, but he didn't seem like the type to accept an invitation to one of Tony's parties.
"Hey, how are you?" he asked.
"I'm honestly kind of bored," you said.
He laughed and leaned back on the wall with you.
"Yeah, Steve dragged me along with him," he said.
Your initial impression of him was proven wrong as the two of you carried on a conversation. Although he didn't show it, he was quite funny. He made you laugh so hard you cried several times that night.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Steve begin to approach you two. Even though he had accompanied Bucky, you hadn't seen him once that night.
"Hey, it's getting late. I'm going to head out," Steve said to Bucky.
Bucky nodded in response, and then Steve was gone just as quickly as he had come. You looked down at your watch to see that it was already half past midnight.
You were about to tell Bucky that you were going to leave as well, but he spoke first.
"Do you want to go get ice-cream?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck with his metal hand.
"Right now?" you said.
"Oh, well it doesn't have to be if you don't want to. I didn't mean to-" he began, but you cut him off.
"I'm down for right now if you are," you said.
You were exhausted, but you couldn't say no to ice-cream or talking to the mysterious man for longer.
So that's how you ended up driving in Bucky's car at 1 am to the only ice-cream shop open that late on your side of town. The workers sure looked at you weirdly when you both entered in your formal attire, but all that was on your mind at the moment was Bucky.
You stayed out that night even after you had finished your ice-cream. Wandering the streets with him at three am felt so intimate, and you never wanted the moment to end.
You didn't get back to your room in the compound until seven am the next day, but you didn't regret one moment you spent with the man. Bucky had just started talking to you, but you already felt as if you had known him for a lifetime.
You could only hope that your outing wasn't a one-time thing. ~~~
"You remember all that?" Bucky asked when you were finished.
"I will never forget the moment I fell in love with you," you said.
Bucky stared at you, mouth agape. He slid both his hands into yours and pulled you so close that you could see the tiny freckles that dotted his face. His lips then touched yours in a gentle kiss. It was so soft that you could barely feel it, but it was full of passion. He had just told you everything he wasn't sure how to say.
"I love you so much," he mumbled against your lips.
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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Tree Shopping (Wanda Maximoff)
This is day nine of my 12 Days of Marvel series.
Word Count: 500
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Summary: Tree shopping with Wanda proved to be more meaningful than you had thought.
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It was mid-November, but the air already smelled of Christmas. The earthy scent of the Evergreens filled your nose as you wandered the tree farm with your girlfriend.
You thought that the trees all looked the same, but your girlfriend disagreed. The two of you had been walking around the farm for over thirty minutes now, and she still couldn't decide on a tree. Each time you thought she found one, she would find something wrong with it.
"What about this one?" you asked.
"No, it's too tall," she said, continuing to the next endless row of trees.
You followed closely behind her, hoping that she had finally chosen one. Much to your dismay, she was still inspecting each tree in the row closely, looking for any imperfection. According to her, because this was your first Christmas together, the tree had to be perfect.
"Maybe we should just get a fake tree," you suggested when she didn't seem any closer to finding one she liked.
"But, Y/N, it's not the same," she persisted.
You couldn't say no to those gorgeous green eyes, so you continued to look with her, watching her every move and hoping that she would choose soon.
Around an hour later, you heard Wanda say, "Y/N, come here! I think I found it!"
You began walking over to where you heard her voice, but you didn't get your hopes up because she had done this several times before. As you turned the corner, she grabbed your hand and pulled you along to where the tree she found was.
"This one looks great!" she exclaimed.
It didn't look any different than the other tree you saw, but the look in her eyes made it seem just as special as she thought it was. Wanda circled the tree one last time, examining it for any blemishes.
"It's perfect," she said.
You let out a breath of relief at her comment. She leaned over and kissed your cheek, which made the long hours of waiting worth it. You would do anything to see that beautiful smile on her face.
The tree would end up costing eighty-four dollars, but you couldn't say no to Wanda. The smile that appeared on her face every time she passed the Christmas tree in your home was worth well over the amount you paid for it.
You worried that she wouldn't be as happy when it was time to throw the tree away, but her smile never left. It continued to grow bigger as your relationship progressed, and you eventually realized that you were part of the reason for that happiness. Just when you thought you had her figured out, she would surprise you again. And that is why you loved her so much.
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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A Christmas Coincidence (Thor)
This is day eight of my 12 Days of Marvel series.
Summary: After much consideration, you finally think you found the perfect gift for Thor. Little did you know that you got each other the exact same thing.
Word Count: 900
Pairing: Thor x Reader
A/N: If you like this, make sure to check out the other imagines I wrote for Christmas! The masterlist is linked above. :)
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Gift-giving had always been easy for you. Until now. The last person on your list was Thor, and you couldn't figure out what to give him.
You had gotten Steve the book that he was talking about buying, Bucky a gift card to his favorite coffee shop, and Wanda a framed picture of the two of you. All of those gifts seemed nice to you, but Thor wouldn't like anything similar to that. He had everything, and whatever he didn't have, he would get eventually.
You walked into Bed Bath and Beyond, hoping to find something that would impress the God. Shelves and shelves of pointless items filled your vision. You would stop on some items but ultimately decided that he wouldn't like them.
An ornament? No, he would break it and it wasn't unique.
A Thor-themed hoodie? He does love himself, but that might be a bit excessive.
A hairbrush? No, you were pretty sure his hair stayed perfect on its own.
Just as you had thought, you didn't find anything in the store worth giving him. On your way out, the cashiers were looking at you weirdly because you didn't buy anything. You guessed that they were right to be suspicious. Who goes into Bed Bath and Beyond and doesn't leave with some pointless item that they think they need? You were about to return their dirty looks, but then you saw it.
It was the biggest and fluffiest blanket you had ever seen. You paced over to the object and ran your hand over its softness. The grey, cloud-like fabric molded beneath your hand, encompassing you in its warmth.
This was it. You decided that it was the perfect present for Thor. He probably didn't have a want or need for it, but that didn't matter to you at the moment. He was going to enjoy it whether he wanted to or not.
It was so soft and beautiful that you almost wanted to keep it for yourself. You had to remind yourself that it was for Thor. If you didn't give him this, you wouldn't have anything else to give him.
~~~
It was Christmas day. The smell of cinnamon and sugar cookies whirled through the air, and everything was perfect. For once, no one was arguing or fighting. Steve didn't even go on his morning run in honor of the occasion.
You spent the day giving everyone the presents you had gotten them and mentally preparing yourself for the delicious dinner that you would eat with the Avengers that night. Your friends loved their gifts, and you had even more fun giving them away.
The last on your list was Thor. You were starting to have second thoughts on his gift, but it was too late to back out now. Feeling doubtful, you grabbed his gift and started walking to his room in the compound. Thor then walked around the corner, carrying a gift that was equal in size to yours and haphazardly wrapped in snowflake paper.
"Oh, Y/N, I was looking for you," he said.
A bright smile covered his face as he walked closer to you from the other end of the hallway. The God wasn't used to the holidays on Earth, but he had still dressed up. He was wearing a green sweater decorated with a reindeer and blinking Christmas lights.
"Do you like my shirt? Winter Man gave it to me," he said, noticing you were looking at his clothes.
You held in a laugh, knowing that Bucky probably gave it to him as a practical joke.
"I love it! It's very festive," you replied.
"I came to give you a present," he said, brandishing the gift high in the air.
"I was looking for you for the same reason," you said.
He nodded and passed the gift over to you. You passed your present, which was much more neatly wrapped, over to him as well. Without any hesitation, he began tearing into it immeadiatley. You figured that he would at least wait until he was alone to open it, but he was very eager.
He tossed the wrapping to the floor and ran his hands over the soft material. The blanket that had seemed huge to you in the store looked much smaller in his giant hands. Thor then looked at you, then the gift, and then back at you again. He seemed puzzled.
"Do you like it?" you asked him, worried that your fears were becoming true.
He began laughing and said, "Of course I do. It is almost as soft as the one I have back in Asgard, but you should open your gift," he responded.
You narrowed your eyes at the present and tore the wrapping away from the item. Then, it all made sense. You understood why Thor was laughing now.
You and Thor had gotten each other the exact same gift.
You began laughing as you stroked the familiar gray fabric that you had admired days earlier. What were the odds? And more importantly, what made Thor want to go into Bed Bath and Beyond.
"It appears that we have the same taste in gifts," Thor said.
"It sure does," you replied, still laughing.
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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Thin Ice (Natasha Romanoff)
This is day seven of my 12 Days of Marvel Series.
Summary: It was probably a good idea to listen to the signs that said "WARNING THIN ICE", but since when did you follow the rules?
Word Count: 1k
A/N: If you like this, make sure to check out the other Christmas-themed imagines/one-shots I have written! :)
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"This isn't a good idea," Natasha said.
It was too late to change your mind now. You hadn't seen the sign that said "WARNING THIN ICE!" until you were about 200 feet across the ice, but that didn't deter you from continuing.
You had the perfect idea for a picture with Natasha, and you forced her to bundle up and accompany you. It was so cold that you could have sworn your saliva was freezing inside of your mouth, but you didn't want to leave without the picture.
"Trust me, you'll change your mind when you see the amazing pictures we take, you said.
Natasha hummed in response. You hadn't known her as the type to do romantic things like this before you started dating, but she had surprised you. Behind her stoic persona was a hopeless romantic who enjoyed the same "soft" things that you did.
"I think this is the perfect spot!" You said, waving Natasha over.
She began walking over to you from her position on the ice a few feet away. Despite the cold, her vibrant red hair glittered in the sun. You admired the way the sun danced in her hair, and how the icy weather tinted her cheeks pink.
"Hurry up!" you called, "It's cold!"
Whether she responded or not, you would never know because a loud crack rang through the air. You tried to run away from the split that was spreading beneath your feet, but the ice opened up and sucked you in.
It was so cold that it burned. The searing pain flooded throughout your entire body, rendering you useless. It felt as if each muscle and organ in your body was icing over like the river should have remained.
When you managed to get your head above the water, you saw the four-foot hole that you created in the ice. You let out the loudest scream that you have ever cried in your life. Natasha shouted your name from somewhere in the distance. You grabbed onto the edge of the broken ice to prevent you from sinking in again. All that was going through your mind was one word.
Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold.
You searched the frozen water in front of you for your girlfriend. The event must have happened quicker than it felt because Natasha had only just reached you. She placed a hand on your shoulder, and it was a stark contrast to the cold water that you were submerged in. She began pulling on your arm. You weren't much help because of your frozen state. When you heard her sneakers sliding across the ice you yelled for her to stop.
"You're going to slide in, too, if you keep pulling," you said.
You were almost unintelligible because of your mumbling and chattering teeth. Natasha stopped pulling and pulled two small knives from where she had stashed them under her winter coat. She was somehow remaining calm, but you knew that she was doing this because you wouldn't be able to handle it if she was panicking as well.
"Use these to stab into the ice, and pull yourself up. Kick your feet as you're pulling," she said handing you the knives.
You could barely grip onto them, but you willed your body to work harder. If you wanted to get out of here, you were going to have to fight against the cold that consumed your body. Nat ran her slightly warmer hands over yours.
"C'mon. Once you're halfway out, I can help you. It won't do us any good if we are both stuck," she said.
You nodded and stabbed the two knives into the ice about a foot in front of you as hard as you could, but it didn't even make a dent. The cold engulfing your body made each action ten times more difficult. Natasha noticed this, and she took the knives from your hands. She plunged them into the ice where you had failed moments earlier.
"I'll put the knives in. You pull," she instructed.
You grabbed onto the weapons and began pulling and kicking with all your might. This time, you were successful. This process continued as Natasha removed the knives one at a time (so you could hold onto the other as she rearranged them).
Once you were about half-way out of the water, Natasha abandoned the knives and pulled you out herself. She enveloped you in a hug, which was much warmer than the freezing water. You then noticed that tears were running down her porcelain skin.
"I almost lost you," she cried, burying her face into your shoulder.
You would have hugged her back if you could, but you were still too cold to even think.
"We are going to the hospital right now," she said.
After several minutes, Natasha managed to drag-carry you to the car you had arrived in. She pulled you into the passenger's seat and buckled you in. Then, she turned the heater on as high as it would go. Despite this, you could still feel the cold penetrating your body.
Natasha reached into the back of the car and pulled out a red plaid blanket from the back seat. She wrapped it around you to give you some sort of relief.
As Natasha began typing in your address to get directions to the nearest hospital, you began contemplating the situation. How could you have been so stupid? You could have killed both you and your girlfriend.
"I went through all of that and we didn't even get a picture," you fumed.
"We can take as many pictures as you want after you heal," she said.
You heard the engine start, and you were then moving along the road. The white sign with large red letters seemed to mock you as you drove by. The obnoxious font and illustrations below it depicted the dangers that you had just gone through.
"We should have listened to that stupid sign," Natasha mumbled.
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pr0ve-them-wr0ng · 4 years
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Lonely (Peter Parker)
This is day six of my 12 Days of Marvel Series.
Summary: You end up in the hospital on Christmas after an accident on a mission, but Peter keeps you company during your healing.
Word Count: 1.2k
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The sterile white room reeked of rubbing alcohol and fear. Being shot on a mission definitely was not an ideal situation. As unbearable as it seemed, the pain was not the worst part of it. It was Christmas Day, and being confined in the Med Bay prevented you from enjoying yourself.
You had already expected no visits from your family because they were across the country, but only a few people dropped in to visit you. Steve came by and gave you a gift card to Starbucks. It was a nice gesture, but it made you feel even more confined because you weren't able to go out and use it. Natasha also came by with a box of your favorite candy. The many discarded wrappers on the night-stand next to you served as proof of this.
While you wanted people to come to visit you, there was also a part of you that didn't want them to. You felt terrible for taking away their time on Christmas day.
Despite sleeping most of the day, you were still exhausted. You fluffed your pillow, being careful to not agitate the bullet wound, and grabbed your phone. You wanted to call Peter and wish him a Merry Christmas before you went to bed. Before you could dial his number, there was a soft knock on your door.
"Come in!" you shouted hoarsely.
To your surprise, Peter entered. He was wearing a red and green striped sweater and holding a wrapped present. His usually messy hair was combed back, most likely for Christmas pictures with Aunt May. He shut the door behind him with a dull thud and made his way over to the chair next to your bed.
"Merry Christmas!," he said with a broad grin.
"Merry Chrismas, Peter."
He set the present down on your thigh, which caused you to wince in pain.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" he said, removing the present.
"it's okay, Peter," you replied through gritted teeth from the pain.
An adorable frown spread across his face, and he looked like a lost puppy. He examined your room, which didn't have much in it because you had only been there a few days.
"I'm really sorry that you're trapped in here," he said.
"It's okay. I have this plant to keep me company," you joked, patting the potted plant next to you.
Peter frowned once again, but this was quickly replaced with a grin when he reached into his backpack. He shuffled around in his bag for a moment, tossing random objects onto the second chair next to him.
"Oh, here it is!" he said.
Before he could pull out the mystery item, one of his web-shooters flew from the bag and rolled onto the floor underneath your bed. He quickly set the bag aside and dove after it. He scrambled around for a few moments before holding up the weapon in victory. His perfect hair had gotten messed up in the chase, and it was now sticking up on the right side. You resisted the urge to reach over and smooth it back down.
"Sorry, just a sec," he said, putting it back into his bag.
He then handed you a cardboard box decorated with various Christmas stickers and ribbons.
"May wanted me to give you some of the cookies she made. They might be a little squished, but they should still taste fine," he said.
You laughed and thanked him for giving them to you.
"Here, I'll share them with you," you said, opening the box.
You were met with the smell of chocolate and peppermint as you stared at the Christmas cookies. They were squished just as Peter had predicted, but the sight of them still made your mouth water. You handed Peter a cookie and began eating one yourself.
"So did you do anything special today?" you asked.
"Uh, just regular Christmas things. May got me that new video game I was wanting," he said.
"Oh, cool. I'll have to come over and play it with you some time."
"Yeah."
He began putting his belongings back into his backpack as he finished the cookie. Peter had probably already eaten most of the cookies May had made, but you didn't want to eat one in front of him without offering.
"Thank you for coming, Peter. It means a lot. I have been so lonely," you said.
"You're welcome. I've really missed my best friend," he replied.
You grinned and placed the rest of the cookies on the night-stand along with the candy wrappers.
"Oh, I almost forgot! I got you something," he said, perking up.
He grabbed the present that he had discarded earlier and handed it to you. This time he was careful not to set it on your wound. You then remembered that your gift for Peter was still in your apartment.
"Your present is-" you began, but Peter cut you off.
"Don't worry about me right now. Just open it," he said.
You leaned over, motioning for him to hug you. He stood up and came closer to your bed. Peter wrapped his arms around you, which engulfed you in a scent that you had come to know as uniquely him.
"Thanks, Pete," you said into his shoulder.
"Anything for you."
He then sat back down and motioned for you to open the square-shaped gift. You tore the tacky, reindeer-printed paper from the object, and gasped when you saw what it was.
He had framed the picture Tony had taken of the two of you on your first official day of being Avengers. It was so long ago, but the memory brought tears to your eyes. The wooden frame was carved with intricate little spiders, a symbol of him.
"This is amazing Pete," you said.
He smiled, and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up further.
"You've been with me since the beginning, Y/N, and I just wanted to let you know how much you mean to me," he uttered.
"Thank you, Peter. No matter what, I'm always going to be by your side. I don't know what I would do without you," you said.
You scooted the cookies over and angled the picture towards you on the night-stand. Then, you waved your arms to motion him to give you another hug.
Before wrapping his arms around you, his face stopped directly in front of yours. He was so close to you that you could smell the peppermint cookie on his breath and make out every freckle on his near-perfect face.
Your lips were mere centimeters apart, and both of you knew what was going to happen next. It was all a matter of who was going to make the first move.
You somehow moved even closer to him, so close that your lips grazed his. You were so overcome with adoration that you couldn't even process what happened next.
You were kissing Peter Parker.
Peter Benjamin Parker.
The man that you had admired for years.
You could taste the cookie on his breath that you had smelled moments earlier, and this added to the intimacy of the moment. You didn't want the moment to end, but he removed his lips from yours and gently leaned his forehead against your own.
"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that," he said with a grin.
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