#marvel writing

[redheadspark]

Hey Hii I love your writings!

Could you write something about Druig and the fem avenger (maybe black widow) reader? If you don't write Druig, it could be Shang-Chi. I love both of these guys so much! Thanks in advance~

A/N - THIS IS GREAT! Sorry for not writing this soon, but I do hope you like it, Anon!

Breathe

Summary - After the Emergence, Druig get a call from an old flame

Warnings - Just some fluff with a HINT of angst

The phone rang at least three times before Druig could answer it, fishing out the phone from the bottom of his duffle bag he packed from his village in the Amazon.

“ ‘Ello?” He asked, Instantly he was going to be bombarded by questions on the other end of the line.

“Druig?!  What in the hell?!  Why is there a Celestial coming out of the Indian Ocean?”

“Sweetheart, can you take a breath for me?”

“How can I take a breath when there’s a massive Celestial statute sticking out of the Indian Ocean!  That has you name written all over it!”’

“Hey—“

“DO NOT HEY ME!  THIS HAD YOUR NAME WRITTEN ALL OVER IT AND YOU KNOW IT—“

“Stop!  Stop and take a breath for me please,”  Druig finally Said into the phone, looking up from his spot in the kitchen to see the rest of the Eternals outside the farmhouse and at the horse corral, talking together and laughing at something Phastos said.  Druig could see the inventor look over at Druig through the kitchen window, raising an eyebrow at him as if he was silently asking who he was talking to on the phone. 

Druig shook his head and walked back to the living room, plopping down on the couch to rub his face as he heard you on the other line.  You were taking a few long breaths, trying to calm yourself down as Druig was patiently waiting on the couch.  Finally, after what seemed like a good minute or two of you breathing and calming yourself down for Druig to hear, Druig finally spoke.

“Druig, that Celestial is on every news channel all over the globe, and my boss is looking for answers,” You explained to him on your end of the phone, “You need to explain some things to me, as much as you can,”

“Your Boss, as in the Winter Soldier?” 

“More as in the new Captain America,” You replied, “Sam is not keen in not knowing what is going on around the globe, especially if it’s extraterrastial related.

“I’m sure you can whip something up from your Black Widows days, bein’ an ex-spy at all,” Druig said in almost a tease, you inhale sharply.

“Druig, this is not funny. I’m worried that something else is stirring up and you have something to do with it,” You explained wholeheartedly.

“I know, luv,” Druig replied, “I don’t mean to make it light.  But it was a near Emergence that we had to stop before the end of the world,”

A pause was heard on your end.

“Emergence?” You asked him.  Druig sighed heavily.

“It’s a lot to explain,” He started to explain to you, but the house suddenly started to vibrate.  Druig had to paise, feeling the walls and floor shake beneath his feet as he slowly stood up.  It might have felt like an earthquake, not as big as the one he felt a week prior when Tiamut became active under the earth’s surface.  After hearing some of the horses from the corral neighing in agitation, the soft sounds of what sounded like a jet high in the sky were coming towards the farmhouse.  

But this didn’t sound like a typical jet.

Phastos and the others came running into the farmhouse, Druig shot up from the couch and looked over at him as Phastos was pointing towards the front of the house, “You hear that?”

What is it? Makkari signed as the rounds of the jet were coming closer and closer within seconds.  Druig was just as confused at first.  Yet it only took him a few longs to recognize the sounds of the jet, he’d heard it all too well many times before.  His own heart both dropped and seated faster at the same.

“Honey….please don’t tell me I’m hearing your jets out here in South Dakota,” Druig said slowly in the phone to you as the Jet was now sounding beyond loud, almost right above the farmhouse as Phastos shot him a look.

“Honey?!  Who in the hell is Honey?” He asked as Druig walked out through the front doors hastily, the others hot on his heels.  Right in front of the farmhouse, a Jet was lowering down onto the grass.  It looked sick, black in color, and almost decked out with plenty of firepower to boot.  To anyone else, it would seem threatening and intimidating since there was no way of knowing where the jet came from and who was flying it.  

But to Druig, he knew exactly who it was.

“Is that an Avenger’s Jet?!” Phastos son Jack yelled out in excitement as the jet finally touched down on the ground, the wind dying down and the jet turning off slowly.  

“Jack, get in the house!” Phastos huffed at his son as the ramp was lowering slowly.  Druig was watching the ramp with steady eyes, turning off the call on the phone as he saw boots descending down the ramp at a rapid pace.  

Light brown hair in a high ponytail, braids embedded in the locks as bright green eyes were drilling into Druig's blue orbs.

You, in your ex-widow outfit, walking straight to Druig with no signs of slowing down.

"Who in the hell?" Phastos asked as Thena stood in a protective and threatened stance, Makkari looking in confusion. But you were not focusing on them, only on Druig who was giving you a sincere look and a small smile.

Once you were nose to nose, Druig's smile briefly widened.

"Hello Sweetheart," he hummed to you, though you were simply giving him a hard stare

Within a second, you punched him hard.

The others gasped as Druign grunted and took the blow, ducking a bit as you glared at him with clenched fists. Makkari was about to run over at you when Thena grabbed her arm to stop her. Druig reluctantly held out a hand to the others at the porch as he grasped his nose.

"It's fine...I'm fine," He called out, inhaling sharply as he looked back at you with a sigh, "I deserved that one, didn't I?"

"That is for keeping me in the dark with this Celestial, and for not calling me back in a whole month! I was this close to flying out to see if you were still alive in the Amazon!" You huffed at him as he grasped part of his nose. He squinted in pain.

You rolled your eyes, reaching over to move his fingers to the right spot on his nose.

"Don't worry, I didn't break it. It'll bruise and that's it," You mumbled, Druig grinning as you through the same pain he was feeling along his nose, "Druig, you scared me, and I know deep down this Celestial has something to do with you,"

"It does, luv," He replied as he then gestured to the group that was watching from the porch, "These are the other Eternals,"

You looked over, seeing the three of them watching with a hint of amusement on their faces from your punching the mind controller in the nose. Your eyes went wide, Phastos awkwardly waving while both Thena and Makkair just grinned and nodded in your direction.

"Your family?" You asked Druig as you looked back at him.

"Some of them. We lost some along the way, but we're all that left with two others," Druig explained as he took your hand in his, "We stopped the Emergence and saved the world,"

"Oh...okay," You sighed and rang your fingers over your face, "This is a lot to take in,"

"I'll say," Phastos muttered under his breath as Thena walked over a little bit with her intense eyes on you.

"You know Druig?" She questioned you, you were about to say something when Druig reached over to lace your fingers together, palm to palm. Your fingerless gloves against his own calloused hand were a natural feel for you two to have, and you've had this sensation for some time as the others finally realized what was going on.

"You're dating.....and Avenger?" Phastos asked Druig, Makkari grinning from ear to ear and almost bouncing on her toes.

I have questions! She signed rapidly as you felt a tint of blush on your cheeks.

"Technically she's an ex-Black Widow who was recruited to the Avengers," Druig explained, Makkari was now running over in a blistering pace as she was beaming so bright at you from the news of your title. You were taken back slightly, but the smile on her face was warm.

Black widows are the stuff of legend! Please tell me all you know! She signed to you so quickly her fingers were literally dancing in front of your face. You were smiled and signed "Yes," Makkari giggled and looking at Druig.

I like her! She said to Druig as he finally fully smiled.

"Yeah, I like her too, Kari,"

The End

#druig fluff #druig x oc #druig eternals #druig x reader #druig #marvels eternals #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #marvel fanfic writer #marvel writing #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #mcu writing #mcu phase 4 #mcu fanfiction #mcu #druig x female reader #druig x you #druig x female reader #fanfiction #writing #barry keoghan #eternals #my love #marvel #druig x y/n

[ceralmillkandstars]

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

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

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

here we goooooo 

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

And by the gods did you need a shower. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pizza would make it better, though. 

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

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

My kitchen, my kitchen. 

Who is in my kitchen? 

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

That’s never happened before. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or so the moon tells you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pucker your lips, nodding. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you have velvet couches at home?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The surface world food is vile.”

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

He is not leaving, child. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heaven forbid, it didn’t work. 

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

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

The moon did not let you win. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

He kept his promise. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He simply stares. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Terrifyingly beautiful. 

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

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

May the moon bless this day. 

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

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

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

You find yourself agreeing with the slightest of smiles. 

@angeli-fucking-cat <3

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

[sweetiecutie]

I just read your one shot with the reader and Peter losing their virginity together, and wow, this was so amazing, you write smut beautifully 😍

Hum, you said you don't feel like writing requests but you said you are open for some ideas and I was wondering a romantic and intense morning sex with tony, some dirty talk and belly bulge kink 👀 I have the feeling that he's huge

Anyway, your writing is really good!

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, size kink, dirty talk, praising, softdom! Tony, established relationships, creampie

A/n: omg I wanted to write smth for Tony for so long but was too lazy tbh. This came out a butt too mushy hubby Tony has me week in my knees ngl, buts still, hope you enjoy💗

- Just like that, nice and easy, - Tony murmurs softly as he slowly slides his hard length all the way down your seeping pussy, filling you up to the brim. You squeal meekly, hands grabbing fistfuls of the soft comforter bundled all over your shared king-sized bed, mind still dizzy with sleep

A contented sigh leaves your lungs as Tony bottoms all his dick inside you, his pubic pressed flush against yours, providing delicious friction to your throbbing clit. His warm calloused hands run up and down your thighs soothingly, making goosebumps to break out on your still flushed from sleep skin

- Such a perfect little girl, taking me so good, - he coos, his voice even deeper than usual, a hint of morning raspiness in it makes you drip even harder. Your back arches up unintentionally, inner walls wrapping tighter around Tony, making a guttural groan to escape his lips

- Fuck, this pussy squeezing me so tight. You like that, don’t you? - Tony asks with a chuckle, his hips making a first small thrust, slightly jolting your pliant body forward on the mattress

You mewl thickly in response, ankles wrapping around man’s waist, locking together behind his back. Tony picks up a slow pace, forcing his dick unbelievably deep with every languid snap of his hips, one hand coming down to rub lazy circles on your clit

- Play with your tits f’me, yeah? - Tony orders and you slowly oblige, bunching your (his) oversized t-shirt over your chest, exposing your tender breasts. You glide your warm palms up your sides teasingly before cupping the soft flesh, giving it a small squeeze. Thumbs and index fingers come to pinch and tug on fast-erected nipples, only adding to the pleasure given by your husband’s hard cock sinking in and out of your cunny

- That’s my good girl, - man whispers into your skin as he leans down to scatter small kisses all over the expanse of your neck, his neatly groomed beard scratches you slightly, making you squirm under his touches

The pace on which Tony fucks you fastens, his hips snap against yours with soft slapping sound, muffled slightly by messy lining. The tip of his cock nudges your cervix with every pistoning thrust and you don’t need to look down to know that there’s a noticeable bump forming right above your pubic as your man fucks you deliciously

The grip of calloused fingers is firm on your hips; Tony lifts your pelvis up a bit, readjusting you so that your thighs are now rested atop his, new position allowing his cock to rub tightly against that one sensitive spot inside of you, causing a lecherous moan to roll off your lips

- Fuck, Tony, - you let out breathlessly, eyes rolling back into your skull, toes curling at the intensity of the feeling. Tony’s right hand slides off your hip, slipping in a small gap between the mattress and your lifted lower back, wide palm pressing into your damp skin, caressing it soothingly in small rubs

- I know, baby, I know. Jus’ keep kneading those beautiful tits, - he rasps quietly, hot breath fanning over your sweaty skin, cooling it down slightly, causing goosebumps to appear

You whine meekly, fingers twisting your nipples meanly, brining sharp pleasure that edges with pain, sending electric shocks running up and down your spine. Tony kisses that one sensitive spot right under your ear, making you moan out his name shamelessly, hands gripping tighter on your tits

You can feel pressure quickly building in the pit of your stomach; every sharp snap of your husband’s hips against your, forcing his cock unbelievably deep inside your drenched pussy, his pubic rubbing against your needy clit, your own fingers playing with your nipples - it all pushes you closer to the edge, body prickling with heat and desire

Tony lets out small grunt as he feels your pussy clamping down onto his length, his pace fastens as he begins to literally pound into your squelching heat, turning you into hot whimpering mess in a matter of minutes

- Fuck, Tony, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, please, - you cry out desperately, mind barely able to form any sort of coherence. One of your hands comes to grip on his bicep, feeling his firm muscles flex under your palm

- C’mon, let it all out, darling. ‘M right after you, - man above you rasps, his pace falters slightly, forcing his dick into you in deep erratic thrusts. His huge hands slide down to grip on your buttocks, molding pliable flesh in between his fingers, leading your hips upwards to meet his, by this fucking even deeper into you

Your vision goes blurry, as white-hot pleasure rolls over your trembling body, filling your whole being with utter bliss. Tony follows soon after you; a string of profanities mixed with praise rolls off his tongue as he pushes himself to the hilt, shooting his pearly cum deep into your wrecked cunt

Your eyelids feel extremely heavy so you close your eyes, your body shakes occasionally with post-orgasmic tremors. Tony crushes on top of you, making you squeal softly under his sudden weight. A few minutes pass in complete silence, both of you trying to even your heavy breaths and calm your erratic heartbeats. Man scrambled to his arms sliding off you before pulling his already softened cock out of your trembling pussy; a sudden feeling of emptiness makes you grumble quietly, you feel his cum dribbling out of you and down on the sheets. Tony lays beside you, one strong arm draped over your abdomen, the warms of his skin against yours feels comforting

- Fuck, that was good, - he murmurs with a chuckle, making you smile and nod weakly in agreement. His thumb starts rubbing soft circles on your stomach, making your heart flutter in adoration

You roll over to lay on your side facing Tony, hand coming to caress the side of his face. Man smiles sweetly at you, corners of his eyes crinkling with delight and you can’t help but return the gesture

- ‘M too exhausted. Guess you have to carry me to the bathroom, - you pout pitifully, feeling to lazy to go to said bathroom yourself. Tony’s eyebrows rise in feigned astonishment, arm that was previously caressing your abdomen comes to tickle your side teasingly, making you giggle and writhe under his touch

- Well, I guess I have nothing else to do but to carry you there, huh? - Tony says while standing up and getting around the bed to get to your side of it, picking you up bridal style and heading up straight to the bathroom to get both of you cleaned up from the evidences of your oh so pleasurable awakening

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, they inspire me on creating even more content for you💖

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #tony stark smut #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel writing #marvel x reader smut #marvel #iron man #iron man x reader #iron man x you #iron man x y/n #iron man smut #smut #marvel smut

[buckys-dollface]

It's 3 am I must be lonely ☾ [B.B]

Pairing: Fuckboy!Roomate!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Actress!Reader

Summary: Your roommate Bucky Barnes, has always been infatuated with you, much to your ignorance. You were his shining star. One drunk voicemail later and it's as if the stars aligned in Bucky's favor.

Warnings: 18+ MDI. Alcohol consumption, drunken confessions, jealous!Bucky, mutual pining, descriptions of sex, unconsental touching

A/N: For @starryevermore 's 3k writing challenge! I'm super proud of u!

Bucky always was a cynic when it came to love. He thought Valentine's Day was for chumps, which is spoken like a true fuckboy he was. He couldn't wrap his mind around a holiday idolizing romance especially when he couldn’t foresee anything beyond a one night stand. Until there was you, of course.

Yeah, yeah. Even Bucky realizes how clique it sounds, but you were the light gleaming in a foggy evening.

His shining star. You were there for him to follow and praise beyond remission. You were an upcoming actress trying to make it big on Broadway. On your way to your inevitable stardom tonight, you were at a cast party for an off off-broadway show you were the lead in over at the theatre on Main and 5th. You were so excited about this opportunity. You always said that every chance you took was one step closer to your dreams.

And Bucky couldn't be prouder of you. He remembered seeing you opening nIght.

What he didn't realize was how hot and heavy the love scene on stage you had was. The rushed movements, the fleeting kisses, oh and your moans? It made Bucky dizzy and his cock hard. Not to anyone else’s knowledge, but it wasn't the first time he had imagined you that way. You and Bucky had been roommates for three years, and throughout college, you had been each other's saving grace through bad breakups, risky hookups, and played each other wingmen from time to time.

So when Bucky realized he was in love with you, it didn't hit him immediately. He went through a long denial period and dwindled down the path of confusion. If you were just roommates why did his gaze linger on you? Why did he search you out in a crowd? Especially when Bucky knew everyone. Why did he find comfort in your laugh and sought out to make sure you were in high spirits?

We're just friends, roommates, that's it. Get together, for God's sake.

He was becoming desperate, and he couldn't continue to push down his emotions like he had done his entire life. When it came to his dad dying, to his sister’s drug addiction, and now inevitably you. He didn't know how to handle these thoughts, as they began to cloud his mind and become all-consuming. You started to dwell in Bucky’s thoughts during his waking hours and soon prevented him from a sound sleep.

You were the focus to all his dreams, especially there you were a leading starlet taking the main stage. It was tantalizing sweet, one moment you were his, whole-heartedly it seemed, the next you were gone without a trace. Bucky couldn’t go through with this much longer. Especially when you seemed none the wise and moved on with life seemingly as if things were normal.

Things were in fact not normal.

Bucky finally after months, decided to confied in his best friend, Steve. Someone needed to know and he sure as hell wasn’t coming to you with all these mixed up emotions.

“I think I love her, Stevie.” Bucky muttered, his gaze averted to the ground. Steve’s eyes widened, he couldn’t believe the words Bucky had uttered. Of course, Steve was beside himself. He never truly envisioned the day he would see his best friend find someone he was truly fond on, especially that person being you.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“This has gotta be a prank,” Bucky’s eyes met Steve’s and it told him him everything he needed to know. It revealed every secret that Bucky was too scared to admit to Steve or even himself. All in one look for Steve to drink in.

“You really love Y/N, don’t you, punk?” A smirk spread across Steve’s as he began to chuckle. The realization settled admittedly in his bones as he took in a deep breath and released it. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

And there was no taking it back.

That’s what landed him here. You were gone to your cast party, with your buff costar love interest and the more Bucky thought about it, it made his blood boil. He wanted you to be with him. It was Friday night, and usually Fridays were movie night for the both of you. Instead, you were gone and it just brewed the jealousy inside on his soul. He yearned for your presence, for your laugh, for you commentary during the stupid rom-come you’d watch with him. After a fifth of whiskey, Bucky almost felt invincible.

"Uh, hey."

A beat passes, one longer than it should have lingered, the tense air on Bucky's end swells and threatens to swallow him whole.

"I know you're busy. I know you're at your cast party and I know I shouldn't be bothering you-" He can feel his mind race and he paced back forth in his living room. It was as if he was chasing his tail.

"It seems like we haven't seen each other much lately. I just wanted to let you know how special you are to me and how special our time together is."

Bucky could feel himself waning. His palms and hands were becoming sweaty from the anxiety as he was trying to get his words through the other end.

"Let me just cut to the chase." Bucky plopped down on the couch, his hair running through his long locks making them mangled. Then, he noticed a framed photo. He had plenty of them that decorated the apartment featuring Steve, Sam, Nat but more specifically you. This photo was from Bucky's last birthday. You both looked so happy. Like nothing could touch either of you.

"I need you." His tone shifted, became more weak and wilting away his strength.

"I miss your warm smile, your laugh, the way you say my name. You make me want to be a better man even when I don't understand it all. I think I love you, starlight"

Even when he heard the words out loud, as scary as it seemed, it felt right. This was the first time in a long time, he was being vulnerable and real with another human being and he yearned for it to be you as frightening as that was. Even if you rejected him outright, he needed you to know how much he cared for you and much room you filled inside his brain.

"Please call me back. We need to talk."

After that, he hung up the phone without another word. It almost was a little haunting. Was he going to regret this in the morning? Without a doubt. You're Bucky's roommate and with a long-winded voicemail, he just ruined any normal tendencies between the both of them.

*

It had been a little after one when your phone buzzed. You were slightly tipsy and frustrated. You were finally finished with your last show for your debut Broadway show. Well off off Broadway show. You had hopes that maybe, just maybe, this show would be a proper jump off point to your actual big break.

You should be happy, but something felt off.

You went along with the rest of the cast to get drinks after the last round of applause rang out. It should be a celebration but something was missing.

Bucky.

Along with the fact that your sleazy lead co-star couldn't keep his hands off of you. You huffed as you shuffled to grab you phone from your pocket in your seat.

"Sweetheart, we aren't on stage anymore. You can stop." You informed him as his hands slid down your shoulders towards your waist. You could feel them going further and further down as you stood behind you at the bar. You could feel his body heat against you which made you cringe.

"Y/N, what if I can't? What if this show was meant to bring us together?" He whispered in your ear. You could smell the whiskey laced on his breath.

"Let me make myself clear. I'm not interested. I'm an actor. I was playing a part and if you can't distinguish the two, then it ain't it, baby." You announced to him, practically loud enough for your corner of the bar to hear. Snickers reverbrated in response to your outburst, making Chad's mouth go agape. It took no time at all to shove his limp, noodle body out of the way.

"Oh and Chad?" His eyes gleamed up to yours, almost dumbfounded.

"Go fuck yourself."

*

You felt like you played Bucky's voicemail a million times before you got back to your shared apartment. The words Bucky uttered echoed in your mind and almost gave solace as you drove your typical route. You took a deep breath as you grabbed your things and walked up the steps.

Looking back, you think unlocking your door was the hardest part. You weren't sure about what was to come next. You carefully turned your key and opened your door hopefully you wouldn't wake Bucky. He was known to be a light sleeper and would typically sleep on the couch so he wouldn't disturb you while you slept.

"Hiya, starlight." He whispered, his voice sounded almost hoarse. He seemed dazed. You noticed a fifth of Jack Daniel's that was empty and slung on the living room floor and a liter of Jim Bean sitting up on the coffee table half empty.

"Hey Buck." Your eyes finally met his slate grey ones. It was like you were the tides and his eyes were the moon pulling you in. That was cheesy, wasn't it?

Fuck.

"I got your message."

Oh shit.

Bucky barely got any rest between the time he left you that voicemail and right now. He wanted to make sure he was awake when you came home. And if anything sobered him up quicker, it was that last sentence you said to him.

"Yeah?" His voice was so hopeful, if Bucky was more aware, he would realize how embarrassing he sounded.

You couldn't help it. With his lips slightly parted and his eyes mesmerized with your image, it was as if he was truly seeing stars.

He, Bucky Barnes, the once acclaimed fuckboy was lovesick and as much as you wanted to relish in this moment; in the before, you couldn't anymore. Not when you so craved the after.

If you'd blinked, you would have missed it. One moment it was just the tension, solely sulking in the air, then as if you and Bucky could read each other's mind, your lips met as one.

With you, oh you made it worth it.

The kiss was soft and sweet, just like Bucky always remarked about you. He wanted to take his time with you, which is something he never thought he would feel for another person especially in an intimate moment like this one.

You felt your lips moved in sync with his. It was so pure, almost how you imagined your first kiss to go when you were younger. It felt as time had stilled and in this one moment was specifically written for the both of you.

His lips were smooth like butter and the moment Bucky uttered the smallest whimper you were done for. Moments later you both separated from the kiss. You looked into Bucky's eyes and saw a changed man. No seriously. You've never seen him so content over another girl. Bucky loves girls but you always assumed it was more the idea of them. All the baggage that came with them really wasn't his style.

"Ya know after this they'll call me the fuckboy destroyer." You joked as your forehead rested upon each other. Bucky rolled his eyes at your teasing. You always seemed to do that way or another.

"Doll-" He whined.

"Aww c'mon." When your giggles subsided, Bucky took your hands in his.

"See, I never saw myself as the relationship type. Ya know, it seemed too messy, but with you? God, starlight. Everything I said in that voicemail was true. I love you and I might be a little possessive of you."

"Did Chad make you jealous?" You teased as he carded his long locks through his fingers and you began to caress his face. His vision became tunneled and he saw red when he thought of that fucker. Him touching you, caressing you, kissing you. It made him seeth with anger because frankly he was jealous. And even though he may be biased, he thought Chad was undeserving of what you had to offer.

"God, I hate that motherfucker."

"Don't worry about him. Buck. He doesn't compare to you." You offered, almost immediately.

"Oh really?"

"I told him to fuck off tonight, he obviously didn't realize I was in love with someone else."

"Is that so?"

Those words hung in the air as all sound went quiet. Bucky couldn't believe the grin that spread across his face. He would understand if you weren't in love with him yet. He was still figuring all of his feelings out for you but everytime he uttered the words "I love you", it felt right, it felt safe.

"Yeah, also I think the blonde dye he uses has posioned Chad's brain and caused his stupidity." Bucky shook his head and began to laugh alongside you. You truly were a breath of fresh air. His breath of fresh of air.

"I love you, Starlight."

"I love you, Buck."

God, that was going to take some getting used to.

In the best way.

#marvel writing #marvel #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #starryevermore3kwritingchallenge

[ptergwen]

peter parker x charlie's angels! reader has been on my mind for years. i have no idea what this would be about i just wanted to throw this pairing out there

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist 

w/c: 562

warnings: mentions of food?

a/n: this was a fun one and i put my own little twist on it hehe i hope u enjoy <3 also thank you guys for all the requests! feel free to send in smau reqs too cause i’m in the mood

“good morning, angel.”

“good morning, peter.”

you greet your boyfriend with a grin as he enters the kitchen. he’s already dressed for work. he pecks your lips and squeezes your waist, slipping past you to make himself coffee. he takes it hot, black, and downs it quickly.

he must be in a rush.

“have you eaten yet?”

“no, i was waiting for you.“

“well, we’ve gotta go. you should take something for the road. you’ll need your energy.”

“but we don’t have to be in for another-“

peter tosses you a packet with your assignment for the day.

“change of plans, angel.”

you hurry off to change and meet peter back in the kitchen when you’re ready. he’s on the phone with a colleague, discussing an upcoming project. he wraps up the call.

“breakfast?”

“i’ll eat something when we get there. let’s go.”

peter kisses your cheek and gathers his things. you do the same, then you two head outside. you always go into work together. you do everything together.

the two of you make your way up to the roof of your building. you situate yourself in your usual position, legs around peter’s middle and hands holding on to his shoulders. he extends one arm out and wraps his other around you protectively.

“ready?”

you put peter’s mask on for him, making sure it covers his face.

“ready.”

peter lunges back and then leaps forward, sending you two into the air. he uses his webs to swing you to avengers tower.

it comes in handy that his uniform is a spider suit. your own suit is black and skintight, perfect for blending in. you do all the investigative work of the criminals on your radar, and peter takes them out, with help from you of course.

you’re a pair; a team. that’s why peter calls you his angel. in fact, everyone calls you peter’s angel. it’s your own superhero name of sorts. he’s spider-man, and you’re the angel.

you arrive to the tower shortly and head straight to the lab, no time for a proper breakfast or small talk with the rest of the team. you only steal some food from the kitchen as you pass through. peter is working on new tech that he’ll need to go up against your next adversary. you sit up on the table he’s at, biting into an apple while you review the profile.

“dr. curtis connors, works at oscorp, engineered a regeneration serum made from cross-species genetics. which means?”

“he’s using dna from other species to regrow human limbs and tissue.”

“sounds dangerous.”

“it is dangerous.”

“and gross.”

peter chuckles, pulling up a three dimensional visual of his tech.

“that, too.”

you finish reading the rest of the profile and quirk a brow at peter.

“what is it you want me to do?”

“connors is planning to go public with the serum today. i need you to go to oscorp and get me a sample so i can check it out, figure out how it works. then, we destroy it, and stop him.”

peter looks up at you.

“think you could handle it?”

you chuck the core of your apple into the trash.

“i know i can.”

“you’re an angel, seriously.”

you hop down from the counter with a grin, coming in front of peter and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“your angel.”

tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds​ @lnmp89 @jenoslov @kayasholland @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker au #peter parker writing #marvel #mcu #marvel writing #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland writing

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Missy’s 3.5K Challenge

Missy’s 3500 Challenge!!

WOW! How did I reach 3500 followers? What a crazy ride this continues to be. I want to thank every single one of my followers on my blog. Whether you follow me for my work or for my weekly reading lists I thank you. Without your support, I wouldn’t be here.

(Thank you @fictional-affairs for the header!!)

Rules:

You don’t have to follow me to participate, but if you want to you will make my day.

Reblog this post so others can join in.

You must be over 18 years old to participate

Send me an ASK with the Character, Troupe, AU or Prompt you want.

Mark all stories appropriately. (Fluff, Smut, Dark, Non/Con, etc) 

It must be a one-shot or new fic

Two people per prompt

Can be either reader insert or OFC

No incest, No underage, No pedo, No toilet/bathroom fics, No DDLG.

Minimum words 500, No max, Please use the keep reading feature if it’s longer than 500 words

Due date:  open

All stories will be reblogged. I will add all stories to a Masterlist for easy access. Tag your fic as #Missys3500challenge and tag me in your notes. If I haven’t reblogged your work for a week Tumblr might have eaten the notification so please send me a message.

Marvel Characters:

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Sam Wilson

Wanda

Natasha

Tony

Loki

Thor

Pietro

Billy Russo

Brock Rumlow

Helmut Zemo

Non-Marvel Characters:

Ransom Drysdale

Ari Levinson

Frank Adler

Andy Barber

Curtis (Snowpiercer)

Lloyd Hansen

Nick Fowler

Frank (endings/beginnings)

Chris (Destroyer)

Charles Blackwood

Dean Winchester

Lt. Bradley “Rooster Bradshaw (Maverick)

AU’s:

Mob

Biker

A/B/O

Cop/Detective

Firefighter 

Bartender

Royalty

Vikings

Tropes:

Enemies (to friends) to lovers

Sex pollen

First Time

Annoying Neighbor (Tony - @mostly-marvel-musings )

Love at first sight

Evil Twin (Steve - @ironlady1993 )

Hate Sex

Opposites Attract

Prompts:

"They invited us for the family brunch, am I slashing the tires, or are you?"

"I can't believe you made plans, I thought we were on the same side," (Brock - @nekoannie-chan )

"no one else gets to hurt you, you're mine!" (Mob AU/Andy is prosecuting Steve/trope 1/ - @adulting-sucks )

"I'm 90% certain I lost my sanity because of you," (Stark/Mob au/trope 4 @pigwidgeonxo ) & (Trope 5/Lloyd- @nepenthe-raes-affairs )

"You think your life is worth more than mine? Think again sweetheart," (Ransom & Lloyd AU 7, Tropes 5 and 6, - @sarah-in-disguise )

“Of course, they'll fall in love, I planned it," (Stark/Mob au/Trope 4 @pigwidgeonxo )

"Her boyfriend showed up? Oh no, this isn't good," (SamxBlack ReaderxBucky/trope 5 - @awesomerextyphoon )

"You're single, they're single, I'm a great third-wheel. It's a perfect match," 

"So I mean nothing to you now?" After everything we've done!"

"Hey, hey, It's okay, I'm here now,” (Dean/Bartender/Sex pollen - @tarithenurse ) & (Dark Steve - @kitkatd7 )

"Remind me to take a vacation after this,"

"I was never good enough, you always hurt me, so why? why do I miss you?" (Steve or Brock - @nekoannie-chan )

"I can't stop staring at her picture," (Ari/AU 7/trope 8 - @ladyfallonavenger )

"The image of you pops into my head and I just lose my breath,"

“You had me at hello.” (Dean/royalty- @spnexploration )

"Ah, my friend looks like he's about to kill you, you best leave," (Steve/Mob - @captainapple )

"I’ll always be here for you,”

"This is why I love you,"

"Why are you smiling at me like that?" (Ransom/bartender au - @fluffycutecevans )

"you're so beautiful,"

"I would burn the whole city down for you," (Loki/Vikings/Enemies to lovers - @floatinginadreamofhim )

"I said I was sorry! What else do you want from me?" (Enemies to lovers/BillyorThor - @lokislastlove )

“Just kiss already!” (Trope 4, w/Sam or Steve @ghostofskywalker )

“I miss your warmth,” (Steve - @americasass81 )

“Do you regret letting us end?” (Trope 7, w/ Sam - @fluffyprettykitty )

#missys3500challenge #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #fanfic writing challenge #marvel writing #writing challenge #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic

[esha-isboogara]

clouds !!WIP!!!

i have like a million moon knight drafts in my notes i am in love with my boys what can i say. this is one of my fave so it’ll be posted first 🫶🏼

steven can’t help running his mouth as he walks side by side with the new girl on lunch break

“what do those clouds remind you of? they make me think of little fluffy bunnies”.

she looked up thoughtfully. “i’m not sure…they look a lot more like flowers to me”.

steven was taken aback. he was shocked he even got an answer in the first place especially from the gorgeous stranger sat infront of him. he tended to just speak out loud, not in search of any sort of answer.

“hmm…flowers are an interesting choice. very unique i must say”. his eyes lit up. “actually a fun fact about flowers. the largest flower in the world can be up to ten feet tall and three feet wide, and it can weigh up to 24 pounds! It is called the titan arum and it has a distinctive smell of rotting flesh, hence why it is also known as the "corpse flower”. i read that in a book maybe two days ago? pretty interesting huh? it’s amazing how much some old paper can teach you”.

she smiled, nodded and took another bite of her food. “you sure have a lot to say steven grant”.

he felt his heart drop to his stomach at this comment. he felt kind of stupid for thinking for a moment, someone would care about he had to say. “oh my, i’m terribly sorry. silence makes me uncomfortable-well i guess it’s not totally silence since we’re outside. but none the less..”

“steven,honey, relax. it’s not a bad thing. i like hearing what you have to say. every time i’m around you i learn something new”. you always liked steve’s. he was the only one

#moon knight #moon knight fic #my sweet steven #steven grant my beloved #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant fluff #moon knight fluff #marvel writing #marvel x reader #marvel fluff #moon knight x reader #esha writes

[ljlokijinx]

Ive just had a very depressing marvel thought.

Like the apelu in NWH made everyone forget Peter.

Everyone. No exceptions.

Peter is also someone right?

I mean I know marvel decanonized in but holy shit I would read tf out of an amnesiac Peter fic, especially if it was like Strange or Pepper who recognized him first.

If u have the energy to write this( or it already exists) pls link in comments bc i need this for my soul.

#marvel cinematic universe #marvel #peter parker #spiderman #nwh #post nwh fics #marvel headcanons #marvel au #spiderman au #spiderman headcanon #marvel hcs #spiderman hcs #nwh hcs #nwh headcanons #no way home #no way home hcs #nwh aus #no way home headcanons #no way home aus #marvel writing #marvel prompt

[queeenpersephone]

Hello gorgeous!!!!! Just popping by to request your take (headcanon, drabble, anything) on peace, maybe specifically “the devil’s in the details but you got a friend in me” for ironwidow? Hope you have a great day!

hi yourself!! this is a great prompt and i'm so happy to get around to it.

peace

ironwidow || angst, hurt comfort || post-cacw

(natasha defends tony and, in doing so, reveals something that has been haunting her since they got together)

Natasha can tell Tony's nervous. She's nervous too, although she would never show it like her boyfriend currently is.

This is the meeting that will make or break the Avengers. If they can get the backing of T'Challa, have Wakanda on their side, they stand a chance against Ross and the UN with the Accords. Natasha has been meeting with T'Challa alone for weeks now, gaining his respect and that of his inner circle when she helped him handle a coup in his country right after she had reunited with her sister. Her sister who remains in Wakanda, where Shuri is helping her find more Black Widows in thanks for their help.

So, T'Challa likes Natasha. Maybe even considers her an ally. However, Natasha is not sure the King of Wakanda is a big fan of Tony Stark. And, a few minutes into their meeting, she hates to be proven right.

T'Challa watches Tony carefully as he responds to their proposal of reframing the Accords. "I have my reservations," he admits.

Tony shrugs his concerns off. Natasha bites down a grimace. She knows Tony is serious despite his demeanor, but T'Challa doesn't know Tony near as well as she. His use of humor in tense situations is an obvious coping mechanism to her, but to T’Challa, it seems like an irreverence to the seriousness of their meeting. "Name 'em."

T'Challa sighs. "Miss Romanoff - Natasha - is very deliberate and thoughtful. She is the reason I have faith in this venture. You, Mr. Stark, are impulsive and careless. From what I have seen of you over the years, you are not well suited to the diplomacy and compromise required for going up against the UN." He pauses, leaning back as he watches them for a reaction. "This will not be solved with fists or robots."

Tony flinches at the reference to Ultron, but before he can respond, Natasha stands up, leaning over the table.

"We came to the table in good faith, Your Majesty," she retorts. "And instead of looking for a solution to our mutual problem, you insult my partner without provocation."

Tony sighs. "Nat, he has a-"

"No," she cuts him off, glaring at him until he physically sinks down in his seat. "No one gets to talk to you like that, especially someone who doesn't know a thing about things you've done, the sacrifices you've made."

T'Challa holds up his hands. "Miss Romanoff, perhaps I-"

"No, you're going to listen to me, and listen well," she says, knowing every word that she is about to say is important, is the difference between a team and no team. A deeper part of her acknowledges that it's also going to shift her relationship with Tony, but she doesn't care. He deserves the words she's about to say. "Tony Stark is the best man I've ever known. He is selfless, kind, courageous, and wise. I count myself lucky to be his teammate because I know it's certainly more than I deserve. He gives me hope for a better world."

She can't look down at Tony, so instead she stares down T'Challa, who is looking more and more apologetic by the minute. "I am sorry," he says quietly. "Any individual that you speak so highly of must be truly remarkable."

She nods firmly, inhaling at the feel of Tony's hand on her hand on the table. "Excuse me," she says, ripping her hand away and making for the door.

-

It only takes Tony ten minutes to find her. It would be embarrassing if she didn't tell FRIDAY to tell him where she was. It's almost pathetic the way she wants to be around him all the time, but (and she can admit it only to herself, at this point) she's too in love to care how she appears to him. Only to him.

She's sitting against the wall outside the Compound, listening to the sounds of nature around her. She feels more than sees Tony come outside, not saying a word as he slides down next to her.

“T’Challa apologized again,” he says. “He’s ready to begin the strategy meeting as soon as we’re ready.” She doesn’t respond, and he picks at the grass they are sitting on. “It was clever, of course,” he says, a surprisingly vulnerable note in his voice, “to defend me like that. How’d you know that would get him to agree to help us?”

“That wasn’t why I said those things.”

“Oh, come off it, Nat.”

She freezes, then turns to look him directly in the eyes. He sounds confident, but his hands are shaking and he won’t meet her gaze. “Do you think that little of me, Tony,” she says mildly. 

He starts in surprise. “God, no, Nat - I think the world of you. I just - I know who you are. You don’t have to lie to me - I accept every part of you, including the triple agent. Please believe that.” 

She turns, taking his hands in hers and squeezing tightly. “Then believe this. I meant every word. You are - stop it - the best man I know. And I know I can give you happiness sometimes, Tony, but sometimes I wonder if you know what you’re getting into with me.” 

Tony laughs in her face, but when she flinches, he grips her hands tighter. “No - I mean.” He stops, breathes. “Okay. Then tell me what I’m getting into. Tell me, and I’ll tell you why none of it matters because I love you and you’re a hero and I still can’t believe you deign to sleep next to me every night.” 

She exhales, and they both pretend not to see tears escaping from the corners of her eyes. He brings her hands to his mouth, then presses them against his closed eyes, wetness coating her knuckles. “You’re... you’re so brave, and kind, and wonderful, Tony. This whole situation has been... it’s been very hard. I thought we - the team - were stronger than all of this. If you hadn’t kissed me on that plane coming back from Siberia - forced us to forgive each other - helped me find Yelena... I would have become that lonely spy again. You saved me.” 

He laughs again, but this time it is relieved and breathless and so deeply content that her heart feels like it’s about to burst. “Natasha Romanoff, you are so selfless, empathetic, and brilliant. I wouldn’t have made it out of Siberia without you, coming for me even when I was an unbelievable ass to you after Rhodey’s fall. Everything I’ve done right since Thor’s skinny reindeer brother rained hell down on New York is because I’ve followed your example.” 

Natasha can’t help her watery smile. “God, you’re such a dramatic liar.” 

Tony reaches for her jaw, cupping it and bringing her closer. “Shut up, Natalie, I’m trying to confess my undying love here. I’m allowed to exaggerate a little; they’re gonna make a lot of movies about this moment in mmfh-” 

She kisses him to shut him up and maybe for some other very small reasons that exist only in her heart, climbing into his lap. They kiss for another few minutes before she rests her head on his shoulder. He holds her close, one hand combing through her hair. 

There’s a long silence, then: “I can never give you peace,” she murmurs into his neck. 

His chest vibrates as he lets out a soft chuckle. “Oh yeah? Then what am I feeling right now?”

#ironwidow #tonynat #ironwidow writing #marvel #marvel writing #tony x natasha #natasha x tony #my writing #answered #anonymous #hope you liked this one anon! #i will be working my way through ironwidow prompts #forever #but i will never be mad about it #t'challa is amazing don't come for me #i love him too

[dr0wning-in-hell]

Imagine Requests

hello to all, I have been trying to get back into my writing for some time now but have been utterly stuck, so if anyone has anyone requests or ideas in mind please send them in!

Here is the latest update of fandoms/characters I write for-

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Kylo Ren

Luke Skywalker

Han Solo

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Ahsoka

Poe Dameron

The Vampire Diaries:

Stefan Salvatore

Damon Salvatore

Jeremey Gilbert

Enzo

Klaus Mikaelson

Elijah Mikaelson

Kol Mikaelson

Hope Mikaelson

Landon Kirby

Jed

Ethan Machado

Lizzie Saltzman

Josie Saltzman

Avatar the Last Airbender:

Aang

Katara

Sokka

Toph

Zuko

Jame's Cameron Avatar:

Jake Sully

Nytiri Sully

Netyum Sully

Lo'ak Sully

Spider

Rotxo

Ao'nung

Tonwari

Ronal

Tsu'tey

MARVEL Comics

AVENGERS

Peter Parker

Steve Roger

Bucky Barnes

Tony Stark

Thor

Loki

Tchalla

Sam Wilson

Pietro Maximoff

Wanda Maximoff

Moonknight

THE ETERNALS

Druig

Ikaris

Gilgamesh

Kingo

Eros

Dane

THE X-MEN

Alex Summers (Havoc)

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

Beast

Wolverine

Warren Worthington (Angel)

Nightcrawler

Peter Maximoff (Quicksilver)

Eric Lensherr (Magneto)

Charles Xavier (Professor X)

THE WITCHER

Geralt of Rivia

Jaskier the Bard

Yennefer

DC SHOWS

Arrow:

Oliver Queen

Thea Queen

Roy Harper

The Flash:

Barry Allen

Cisco Ramon

Wally West

Julian Albert

Titans:

Dick Grayson

Jason Todd

Rachel (Raven)

Starfire

Gar Logan

TEEN WOLF

Stiles Stilinski

Scott McCall

Isaac Lahey

Derek Hale

Liam Dunbar

Brett Talbot

Theo Raken

STRANGER THINGS

Billy Hargrove

Steve Harrington

Eddie Munson

Peter/Henry Creel

NETFLIX’S WENDSDAY

Xavier Thorpe

Tyler Galpin

Wendsday Addams

Enid Sinclair

Ajax

THE HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

Aemond Targaryen

Rhynera Targaryen

Daemon Targaryen

Aegon Targaryen

ACTORS/SINGERS

Grant Gustin

Tom Holland

Chris Evans

Sebastian Stan

Timothee Chalamet

Cole Sprouse

Ben Hardy

Noah Centineo

Shawn Mendes

Hayden Christensen

Adam Driver

Joseph Quinn

#imagine #fluff #angst #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #marvel writing #please request

[typical-simplelove]

Happy When I'm Sad -> Peter Parker

Summary: Peter had a speech prepared to remind you of who he was, but he decides not to say it. He, somehow, becomes your friend. As a result, you think he's happy, but truly, his heart was breaking.

Author's Note: Please be kind to this one because this is the first Marvel fic that I'm posting as well as the next edition to the Happiness Begins Series for a while. I hope you enjoy this, and please let me know what you think!

Warnings: This takes place immediately after Spiderman: No Way Home, so if you haven't seen it, please proceed with caution. Additionally, this one's a bit sad, but other than that, it should be fine!

Word Count: 3.4k (including song lyrics)

When I look at old stuff, lookin' like it's over Lookin' like I'm never going to be that again Crying over old loves even though they're over Never gonna stay friends, yeah, stay friends

“I’ll see you around” was all Peter said when he walked out of the coffee shop. It pained him to shove the piece of paper that held his rehearsed speech back in his pocket. With one glance at you, he knew that he couldn’t ruin what you had. Well, what you and Ned had. That friendship, that steadiness. Who was he to try to ruin that? As intelligent and understanding as you were, you might just push Peter away and claim he was crazy. Listening to him repeat his story, Peter even admitted to himself that the story was crazy. 

So, he left the coffee shop and went back to his new, quiet apartment. Would it ever feel like home? No, it wouldn’t, Peter concluded. Home was always the love Peter had for his loved ones; it was never a place. May was gone, Happy had no memory of him, Tony was gone, Ned was no longer his best friend, and you didn’t love him anymore. 

When the realization that you didn’t love him anymore finally hit him, Peter broke down. He almost didn’t go to the coffee shop. Then, he realized, though, that you didn’t know him anymore. How could you love Peter when you didn’t know him? 

Peter so badly wanted to tell you and Ned everything that happened over the past few years. He wanted to go back to the way things were before he caused Strange to mess up the spell. He wanted it all back. He wished he could go back to that European vacation and not help Mysterio and Fury. Peter wished that when Tony didn’t call Peter after Germany he let it all go. Maybe, just maybe, things wouldn’t be this way. 

Now, Peter stuck to what he knew and understood. Anything unfamiliar was off the table. In order to find a way to continue, Peter knew he had to stick to a routine. Wake up, make breakfast, work on studying for his GED, go for a walk, monitor the neighborhood and the city for any signs of trouble, stay alive, and go to sleep. This was his routine. He looked for jobs to make money because he still needed to pay rent. 

Peter’s life used to be measured in pre-blip and post-blip. Now, it was pre-learning-about-the-multiverse and post-learning-about-the-multiverse. That was what Peter forced his brain to categorize his life. Mostly, though, it boiled down to pre-you-told-Peter-you-loved-him and post-you-told-Peter-you-loved-him. Because the minute you told Peter you loved him, he knew he had to say it back to you. However, you stopped him. Although at first, Peter hated the fact that you didn’t let him tell you, he realized that was what he needed. You always did know what was good for Peter even if he didn’t realize it himself. Peter realized that you knew something he didn’t. Even if Peter told you everything post-mind-erasure, you might not believe him. You were being realistic. You knew that if Peter told you he loved you and he couldn’t convince you of the truth, then Peter would be devastated. Keeping that bit of information to himself was the one thing you knew would keep Peter going if he couldn’t or wouldn’t convince you of the truth. 

When Peter learned that, he fell in love with you even more. That didn’t stop him, though, from going to the coffee shop. He loved you, and he had to tell you. When he saw you talking about MIT with Ned, he knew he couldn’t interfere. You had your own life that didn’t involve Peter, and as hard as he tried, Peter wouldn’t be able to help you remember, so he paid for his coffee and left. 

It was time to move on. Maybe one day, he’d find someone who meant as much as you meant to him. 

One day. 

They think I'm happy They think I'm happy when I'm sad They think I'm happy They think I'm happy when I'm They think I'm happy They think I'm happy when I'm sad They think I'm happy They think I'm happy when I'm

He shouldn’t have walked inside. There were many reasons why. One, he basically embarrassed himself in front of you the last time he went into the coffee shop. Two, you were there. Three, Peter wasn’t ever going to tell you the truth. Four, Ned might be there. Five, Peter cried for hours after he went home from the coffee shop. If Peter was so self-destructive at times, then he’d walk past the coffee shop you worked at and would walk to the one around the corner, but Peter was in a self-sabotaging mood, so he walked right in. 

“Peter Parker!” you said, a small smile on your face when you saw his face. For a moment, Peter let himself believe that somehow, your memories were restored. He must have been wearing a weird look on his face because you were quick to explain why you knew his name. “You were very awkward the last time you came in, so I just remembered it.” 

“Oh, yeah.” That made sense. 

“What can I get for you?” 

“A coffee and a custard donut, please,” Peter orders. He should have just stayed at the library where he managed to get some paid work. It was quiet there, and the coffee shop in the lobby gave employees discounts, but no, Peter wanted to play with his emotions and decided to come to the coffee shop where you worked. 

“$4.57,” you tell Peter when his order his ready. He passes you the money and places the extra change in the tip jar. 

“I can just sit wherever, right?” 

You chuckle under your breath, and Peter’s face goes warm. “Yeah, wherever.” 

To try to save face, Peter keeps his head down as he finds a counter seat. For the next hour, Peter is reading a book as he eats his donut and drinks his coffee. As much as he tries to concentrate, he can’t. There’s so much that Peter wants to tell you, but he can’t. How does he tell you that he dreams about you every night? How does Peter tell you that he wants to wrap you in a hug and inhale your scent just one more time? How does Peter tell you that he wants to take you on a date and pick up where the two of you left off? How does Peter tell you that he’s miserable? How does Peter tell you he loves you? How does Peter tell you that there will always be a part of his heart that’s for you even if you’ll never know why? 

He decides and concludes that he can’t. He can’t tell you any of that without sound creepy, so he closes his book, tosses his trash, and thanks you before exiting the coffee shop. 

Peter shouldn’t go in anymore. It’s for the best that he stays away from you. 

Despite that being the best choice for Peter, it pains his heart to think about it. Staying away from you was the best, right? 

Hey, look how we made it, say "Congratulations" Lookin' like I'll never be lonely again See me in the mirror, nothin' ever changes Never see the sunset, only in my head

After that first time walking into the coffee shop, Peter went back routinely. Once or twice a week, he’d show up when you’d be on shift. He’d order a coffee and donut and would take a seat at a countertop. Peter would bring his GED textbook and work on practice and studying. He’s fortunate enough to remember the majority of the information from school because he hadn’t technically graduated yet. Sometimes, he brought a book or his computer and would just occupy his time. It was lonely living by himself with no friends. Peter really needed to get a life. 

Sometimes, you’d engage Peter in conversation about something he was learning or about your plans at MIT. 

“Yeah, I’m excited,” you told him on a random Thursday afternoon. “It feels different; you know? Normally, I expect disappointment, but this time, I’m not.” 

Peter nods, trying to hide the smile on his face. For as long as he’s known you (pre-mind-erasure), he’s tried to help you see the positive side of things. It warms his heart to know that you’ve slowly started to turn to that side of things. 

Every time Peter went to the coffee shop, he didn’t bother bringing his speech. He knew that it didn’t matter how much he wanted to tell you everything, he couldn’t, and he wouldn’t. There was a time for everything, and unfortunately, for Peter, his time with you was over. Well, his time with you as Spider-man was over. However, he could be with you as a coffee shop patron and a semi-friend. 

“Anyway, I’m off to MIT in about four months,” you said, wiping down a part of the corner. 

“Do you have anyone to fill in for you?” Ned asks, not looking up from his phone. Peter was grateful that Ned was there the majority of the time, too. Peter didn’t just want the life he had with you back; he wanted the life and friendship he had with Ned back, too. 

You shake your head. “The people who would want to work here only want to be here for the summer before they go back to school or head to college. I need someone a bit more permanent. Someone who isn’t leaving in the fall.” 

“I’m going to be hear in the fall,” Peter blurts out. Immediately, his eyes go wide, and his face turns warm. He instantly turns back to his book and pretends that he didn’t blurt out the most random sentence. 

“Yeah?” you ask, a small laugh in your voice. 

“If you need someone, I could work here,” Peter proposes. “I’m looking for another job anyway.” 

“Another?” you ask, curious. 

Peter nods. “Yeah, I’ve been getting some shifts at the local library, but my rent’s going up, so I could use another means of income. Anyway, I don’t plan on applying to college for another year or two, so if you’re looking for someone, I could apply.” 

You smile. “I’ll talk to my boss, but I’m, like, one-hundred percent sure that you’ll get the job. You’re one of our most frequent patrons. Thanks, Peter.” 

“Yeah, of course!” Anything for you. He couldn’t say that to you. That would be creepy, but he still meant it. He’d do absolutely anything for you. 

Three weeks later, Peter was wearing an apron and taking orders with you following him around, making sure he was doing everything correctly. 

At the end of his shift, as Peter was walking home, he realized that for the first time since everything went down, he was at peace. Peter finally found a place where he was comfortable. Maybe, just maybe, Peter was happy. 

Never gonna stop, never gonna calm down Never gonna stop They think I'm happy when I'm Never gonna stop, never gonna calm down Never gonna stop, no They think I'm happy when I'm

“I’m Happy, by the way.” 

“Peter,” he says and extends his hand. Happy and Peter shake before turning back to May’s grave. 

Ever since May died and she was buried, Peter went by the grave almost every day. It slowly trickled to become every other day as studying, work, and Spiderman stuff got in the way. The majority of the time, though, Peter wasn’t alone. Happy was there. One thing they could both bond over was just how much they both loved May. Although they never spoke, it was comforting for them both to have someone to grieve with. The pair never cried at the gravesite, but it was comforting to have the other there even if they were complete strangers. Well, Happy thinks they’re strangers. 

“Stark industries is going to be funding May’s charity,” Happy tells Peter a few days later. “I’ve been going to help out at the shelters and soup kitchens, but without her there, it seems like things are falling apart. Someone said that monetary issues were getting in the way, so I offered up Stark funding.” 

“That’s a great way to keep May’s spirit alive,” Peter says, carefully choosing his words. When Peter was with you or Ned, he didn’t have to think as much about what to say. He wasn’t afraid of revealing something he shouldn’t. With Happy, though, at May’s gravesite, Peter was on edge. As far as Peter knew, Happy didn’t know that May had any family. If Peter were to slip up, then things would be so much more weird. He couldn’t jeopardize this ease of conversation. He needed someone he could talk about May with. Talking with May was truly his one escape. 

“Yeah, obviously, I’m hoping I’m doing right by here, but I don’t know. She should be here.” 

“I’m pretty sure that she’s smiling at what you’ve done,” Peter reassures, meaning every single word of his sentence. “May never cared about how you helped someone. As long as you were thinking about others and loving them, then it was the right thing. You’re trying, and you’re doing something good, so as far as I’m concerned that’s always doing right by May.”

After those words, no one said anything. Happy slipped away a few minutes later before taking his old flowers and tossing them in the trash. Peter stayed at the gravesite for ten more minutes before going home. 

That started a pattern. Peter and Happy would happen to show up at May’s gravesite at the same time. Sometimes, they’d talk to each other and talk about their lives. Sometimes, they’d talk about May. Sometimes, they’d talk about the weather. Mostly, though, it was just a comfort to have each other. No one else seemed to understand what the other was going through. No one seemed to truly understand what May meant to them. She was the one that kept Happy and Peter going, and that loss stung the most. 

Peter and Happy had each other in grief, so standing there in silence was enough. 

On the one month anniversary of May’s death, they both stood there and cried. They cried and cried. They didn’t care who saw because the reality that she was gone was even more present. 

“Thanks, Peter, for everything,” Happy says just before he leaves. Peter just nods and watches his former friend walk away. 

“I’m doing okay, Aunt May,” Peter tells to the stone when Happy is well out of earshot. “I miss you. I miss Happy. I miss my friends; I miss them all. I don’t know how I’m going to spend the rest of my life like this. I’m sure you’d tell me to go out and make some friends or join a support group or something, but I don’t know. It’s only been a month since my entire life changed, and I don’t know how I’m going to get through the rest of my life. This last month as seemed like the longest of my life, and I’m not even twenty yet. Mostly, though, I miss you. I miss your laugh and your voice. I miss your comfort and your weird loaf recipes.” 

Peter pauses to wipe the tears from his eyes. 

“I can promise you that I’ll try to do good in this world because that’s what you’ve always wanted me to do, even at your last moments. I love you so much, May, and I hope you’re comfortable and resting because we all know you deserve it. Love you, May.” 

With that, Peter made the trek back to his small apartment. Despite it being a chilly day, Peter felt a rush of warmth because he knew that May was there. She was reassuring him that everything would be okay, and it would all work out. 

I put on a smile, don't need a face-lift Why can I when everybody fakes it? Well, they think I'm happy Like they know exactly how I feel You ain't real, but they still fake

“Are you doing anything this Friday?” you ask. It was a random Wednesday afternoon. 

“It depends on where this conversation is going,” Peter asks, a flirtatious tone to his voice. Since Peter started working with you, his feelings didn’t grow, but they didn’t dissipate. He still loves you, but he’s grateful he didn’t fall more in love with you. That was the only bright side to this situation. 

“I have a cousin who’s in town, and I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with her,” you tell him. A ringing begins in Peter’s ears. Oh, he thought you were going to ask him on a date. Peter vowed to himself that he’d never ask you out on a date, but if you asked him, he’d say yes. Peter never expected that you’d be setting him up on a date. 

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Peter lies. Going on a date sounded like a great idea in order to move on and carry on with his life, but he couldn’t get himself to say yes. 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you said, understanding. “You’re so cheery and fluffy and just overall great. You seem really happy, so I figured you’d be able to make my cousin happy.” 

“I’m not ready to date right now,” Peter admits. 

You thought he was happy. He wasn’t happy. As hard as he tried, Peter couldn’t be truly happy. He wasn’t getting any of that human flourishing. It pained Peter to think that you didn’t realize that. You didn’t know Peter well enough to realize that he wasn’t happy. Then again, you didn’t know Peter. Pre-mind-erasure you knew Peter. Post-mind-erasure you don’t know Peter. He tried to be as open as possible, but it was hard. He always holds back something from you and ned. Hearing you say that Peter was happy made him realize he couldn’t keep this up anymore. If Peter wanted to move on, he’d need a new start. A new start without you and Ned. A new start where he didn’t go to May’s gravestone and talk to Happy. Happy didn’t know who Peter was, but it was a form of therapy to be able to talk to someone who knew May. It all had to end. 

Three weeks later, Peter quit his job at the coffee shop. It was a shitty thing to do when yhe promised you he’d be at the shop long term, but Peter couldn’t so it anymore. He extracted himself from your and Ned’s lives. He stopped going to May’s gravesite around the same time that Happy was there. If he saw Happy there, then Peter promptly walked away and went back later. He moved to a new apartment in Brooklyn. He couldn’t run the chance of running into you. It all had to change. 

So, it did. 

Peter left Queens, his home for all his life. It was no way to live, constantly looking back at the life he lost. He had to move on for himself, for you, for Ned, for Happy, and for May. As much as Peter wanted his old life, he had to find a new way to be happy. He couldn’t pretend he was happy when he so wasn’t. 

The one comfort that Peter had, though, was that the multiverse was real. That meant that in another universe, you and Peter were together. In another universe and in another life, you and Peter were together, and that was comfort enough. Somewhere, you and Peter were happy, and someday, in the universe, Peter would find that happiness and love with himself and with someone else. 

Never gonna stop (I try), never gonna calm down Never gonna stop They think I'm happy when I'm Never gonna stop, never gonna calm down Never gonna stop, no They think I'm happy when I'm

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments are encouraged!

#claudia writes #peter parker #spiderman x reader #peter parker fic #spiderman #peter parker imagine #spiderman fic #peter parker imagines #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #marvel #marvel fic #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel x reader #marvel writing #marvel fanfiction #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #mcu imagines #op: 2022

[redheadspark]

Hello! I’m using the anon setting since I’m shadowbanned from tumblr and can only make asks by being anon 😭

But I LOVE your Druig x reader stories! They’re always such a great surprise to see them in the tags. So if the number hasn’t been taken, I was hoping to pair 4 & Druig! With A being reader and B being Druig’s lap?

Happy Summer!

A/N - Ah, silly tumblr for making you anon! I love this request though, anon! Thank you for requesting this!

Deal

Summary - The only person Druig was ever soft with was you.

Warnings - Just some fluffiness!

“Alright, how does this look?”

“…..a bit complicated,”

Phastos huffed and looked at you and you shrugged at him, seeing him point at the new invention that was rotating a bit above his work station.  

“This is a work of art!” He reasoned with you as you nodded in agreement.

“Never said it wasn’t,” You explained as you paused briefly, “It’s just complicated for the humans and where they are when it comes to their evolution.  This will scare them!”

“She’s right you know,” A voice behind you and Phastos rang in the room, you two whirled around to see your significant other, leaning back in his perch against the wall and eating an apple with a large smirk on his face.  

Druig was always one to give his two cents when it came to Phastos and what he was working on.  Although Druig and Phastos were good friends and there was never bad blood, Druig liked to rile him up every once in awhile.  Maybe he knew the humans a bit more as well, understanding what they could and couldn’t handle.  His heart was soft for the species, though he would never dare to wear that softness on his sleeve.  

You grinned, which didn’t match Phastos’s glare.

“Who asked you?” Phastos asked, not in a mean way but with a hint of agitation, “You never like any of my inventions anywho,”

“On the contrary, your inventions are quite remarkable,” Druig reasoned with him, taking one more large bite from his apple before continuing with a large smirk directed at the inventor, “The humans simply aren’t ready for something as massive as this.  Perhaps you’re jumping the gun,”

You could tell Phastos was about to release some anger on Druig.  So you moved over to place a hand on Phastos’s arm to stop him.  

“How about you go take a break and maybe talk to Ajak about it?  I’m sure she would love to hear about this,” you explained to him, seeing him look away from Druig and back at you with softness back in his eyes.  You would always have to step in when it came to Phastos and Druig butting heads, which was never a huge deal.  They both appreciated you playing peacemaker, as Druig’s lover and Phastos good friend.  They loved each other deep down, but you knew they needed a referee.  

Sighing, he nodded his head as you patted him on the shoulder.  Walking out of the lab with large strides, you were finally left in the lab with Druig.  Looked over at him, Druig took the last bite from the apple as he grinned widely at you with a cock of his head.  

“That wasn’t kind of you, Dru,” You advised him as you walked over to him slowly, seeing him shrug as he tossed the pit of the apple to the side and folded his hands in his lap.

“Eh, he knows I mean well,” Druig reasoned as you stood in front of him, “And it’s too soon for humans anyways!  Better to hear it from you and I than from Ajak.”

“Ajak is reasonable with his inventions, you know that,” You said to Druig.  Ajak was another person that Druig would sometimes have scuffles with, merely because on how she viewed Arishem compared to how he did.  Ajak was a great leader, kind in her words and had a great mind to what we had to do for the humans.  But she also had to follow the orders of the Celestial of Judgement, which irked Druig since he could never completely help the humans and keep them safe.  

“Here, come sit with me,” Druig said as he took your hand in his, gently tugging you to sit in his lap and wrap your arms around his neck as his arms snaked around your waist, “I haven’t seen you all day today.  I missed ya,”

“I was only gone for a few hours,” You reminded him as he sat up and it and nuzzled his nose into your hair, “I had to go on patrol with Thena and then help some humans with the damage from the last Deviant attack,”

“Felt like ages,” Druig murmured against your jawline as he kissed you softly there, “You even left too early in the morning before I could wake up,”

“It’s called work, my love,” You hummed as he felt his jaw in place and kissed his nose, “You should try it sometime, apart from eating all of the snacks from Gilgamesh’s stash.  Should I tell him you were combing though his stash again?”

It was always like this with Druig, being playful with one another and never letting that light fade away.  Druig was never his brooding way with you, only to the rest of the Eternals.  Especially Ikaris, whom seemed to think of Druig very differently and in a negative light.  Perhaps it was Druig’s aloofness and Ikaris being cocky that made them more separate than anything, but you could tell they both had tension.  

Druig never once showed that kind of negativity around you, he never would.  In fact, he was rather giddy and happy when you two were together.  It was softness that was around him and within him when he would hold you or kiss you soundly in the middle of the night.  He made you believe that love in real, truly real, and although you were a skeptic to the thought of love at first, Druig brought it to light and made it a reality to you. 

So you would love Druig’s love over anything. 

Druig tugged you in tighter to have you laugh, seeing him smile as he shook his head, “You wouldn’t dare,”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” You reassured as you kissed his nose once more, “But let’s not take from his snacks anymore.  We can get our own, deal?” 

Druig scanned his blue eyes on yours, seeing him grin widely down at him as he pushed from of your hair out of your eyes. The smaller touches of his fingers along your skin, his lips against your yours in the dead of night, it was both so simple and yet intense at the same time.  Druig never seemed to be one to be soft with anyone, not in his speech or in his actions.  There was always a guard up, maybe Druig being afraid to have someone see the beautiful yet decollate heart that he had for some time.  

With you though, you made him so soft and he never minded it one bit.  

“Deal,” He replied in a hum, leaning up to finally kiss you.  The two of your kissing at his perch in Phastos’s lab, the rest of the world rolling on by as you two were soft with one another again. 

The End.

June Summer Prompts

#druig fluff #druig x oc #druig eternals #druig x reader #druig oneshot #fanfiction #writing #barry keoghan #druig #eternals #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #druig x you #the eternals #marvel cinematic fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #marvel fanfic writer #marvel writing #marvels eternals #mcu writing #mcu fanfiction #mcu phase 4 #mcu #eternals fan writing #eternals fanfiction

[ceralmillkandstars]

a beautiful ring (namor x siren!reader)

OH HI. So, I really like mermaids. And I really like Namor. So two plus two equals fish time. This character is written to portray me, a lil redheaded girl- she’s a mermaid, or a siren, somethin, who can turn human again- something magical :) and she loves jewelry. She’s a lil naughty and likes to steal pretty things, a little careless and egotistical at times cuz of all her cool powers. 

I haven’t written in awhile so feedback is always welcome. I hope you all enjoy as much as I did writing this. kith kith. I also dunno how to continue this, so if you have any ideas shoot ya girl a message. 

HEART.

You want that ring.

Peaking above the rocky, jagged surface in the early afternoon while the sun hits your freckled face, you decided right then and there while gazing at that enigma of a man, you want his ring.

You cared less about the fierce glint in his eyes as he stalks back into the water. Could care less about the delicate wings embedded in his skin, his pointed ears, maybe a little about the strong, ancient spear in his hand as his midsection descended into the water.

You wanted that ring, and you were going to get it.

With a drive from the rigid shore and a whip of your glimmering tail, you were off.

Staying low to the sandy seafloor, you flowed with the tide, urging yourself to catch up with this man who did not feel like a man.

He is fast, but you are faster. Born with fins powered by the moon’s force, the water bended to your will as you charged with gentle, calculated laps of your tail.

A beautiful, alluring ring. An ancient, crafted metal band with a beastly, jaguar head. It would look beautiful on your vanity. In your underwater or surface world home, you hadn’t decided yet. 

You hadn’t yet decided which home you preferred more.

You hadn’t decided how to trick this man into getting his ring, either.

You giggle and give a soft roll of your eyes while you monologue, surging towards the man moving, too, with the underwater currents.

As if you needed to contemplate. Your craft was as easy as a child collecting shells along the shore. 

Effortless.

The push and pull of water through your gills transformed into a thrum of energy sending out with the current into his peripheral. 

There is no one here, you are on your way. Your energy, your swaying, invisible lullaby stills the god for a millisecond before continuing his descent through the Atlantic.

Where was he going? You do not care. You want that ring.

Bend to my will, keep on your way while I pry this ring from your finger.

You swim closer to him as the energy continues to pulsate from your very essence, the water vibrating with you as you near his form.

What a beautiful creature, thank you for letting me have this ring. Your unyielding, uncompromised energy halts the neurons firing in his brain, rewiring them not to detect any sense of danger, to continue on his journey while your hand reaches to grab his.

Brutal hands, you sense, swimming with him. Brutal yet soft. With manipulating energy comes sensing tenfold. You cannot help but allow yourself to admire his natural, ruthless beauty. The determined, vicious look on his face. Someone must have wronged him while he was on the shores. Or this affinity for hating it as so causes each mistake made by others to fuel the hatred he feels for her surface. Oh- the innocent tendril of information the moon sends your way caresses your exposed, olive stomach, causing small chills to swim up your spine. The beauty of intuition from being born under the full moon. Your digits grab onto the jaguar-head ring, yanking it off in one swift motion. 

The vibrating energy continues to thrum from all around you while you marvel at the piece of old jewelry, twisting it between your thumb and forefinger. It’s too big to fit even on your thumb, but it will look dazzling, bewitching, on your vanity at the surface in your small, Chicago condo. 

You’re taking your time for someone so eager to go home thirty minutes ago. But who can blame you, when someone’s energy nearly matches yours, melding into your skin, dancing with the flames erupting into your stomach as your stare switches between the ring and a god. 

This so-called god would look very beautiful there too, amongst your silk sheets and soft pink pillows.

Your eyes twinkle- he could find you and lay there sometime. 

Cease those thoughts, the moon minds you. For the serpent god is not kind company above shallow waters.

But I’m so young, you argue. So you indulge yourself, ignoring the sense of the lowering sun. Placing the ring in a small, shell-lined satchel, your fingers graze his palms, reading the lines, his future, his past, his qualities, with wide eyes. 

Your fingers, littered with pearls and gold and seashells wrapped in fine silver and gold, travel up his arms, along his bicep, trailing and tracing the gold emblems across his neck. He continues to strive through the water with fervor, determined to get back to his people, his council.  

What a beautiful, powerful god. 

Puffing out a sigh, you let go of his hands and cast your gaze down from his otherworldly ears. You were far out into the Atlantic now, and you were getting tired. The thrumming, the stilling of his- a god’s mind, was working you harder than it has before, especially at this level of the ocean, where the moon’s power barely reaches. Seaweed snacks and new pearl earrings await you at the border, he cannot distract you any longer.

You slowly distance yourself, gaze burning into his while you slow your meticulous manipulation. 

The vibrations come to a halt at your will, slowly dripping like molasses to give yourself enough time to be far enough away to avoid any retribution. 

You begin your ascent towards the surface once a mass of distance was put between the two of you. Though growing exhausted, you glide through the ocean waters as fast as you can, refusing to look back. You have a feeling this being has a tendency to stay as below the surface as possible, only returning to bring karma.

And you always trust your gut instinct.

No more than a small spec in the vast sea, you continue to dream of the glowing skin, the small wings affixed to his ankles, the large jewelry set across his chest and neck that you are sure will be forever burned into your memories. 

By the gods he would look beautiful on your bed covered in moss and sea gossamar sheets in the pacific- back home.

For a moment, you pause and turn to stare back at the spec, your golden-red hair whisking and flowing around you, framing your freckle-ridden face and tickling a jellyfish. 

“Thank you for the ring,” you whisper into the depths of the ocean, allowing the silken vibrancy to flow deep enough into the depths of the ocean to reach his ears. 

You close your eyes heavily for a moment to regain your strength, the gold smeared across your eyelids causing a bright blink into the bound nothingness.

Turning to swim back towards the shores, you fail to watch out for the fascinating mutant turn up towards the twinkle, down toward his ringless finger, and back toward the small, viper-looking creature with fins melting away towards the orange sky. 

You continue to fail to notice the small spec becoming a lurking shadow as you goggle at the ring, daydreaming about the pearls and fluffy pillows awaiting you back home. Humming to yourself, your eyes simmer and your motions slow as you struggle to stay awake, reminding yourself of the shore and your slip dress that awaits you there just after sunset. 

After all, you got that ring.

There is a cheshire smile along your face as the shore approaches you, the sky an ornate red. You have just fooled a god. 

So you think.

#aldfjaosijfao thank yew for reading #i wish i was a mermaid so here we are #namor x reader #tenoch huerta namor #marvel writing #marvel fanfiction #namor fanfiction #lils writing #namor #marvel #wakanda forever #all feedback welcome bbs

[sweetiecutie]

Hey, sweetiecuties, wanna talk?

You may send in your thoughts or ideas on different characters and I’ll write lil drabbles for them or express my opinion regarding it. May be both sfw/nsfw!

This may include Call of Duty, Harry Potter, Marvel, Star Wars and others, don’t be shy to ask💖

You are also very welcome to ask any questions you may have, I’ll be happy to answer them🤭

Event status: closed

🩷Makeshift masterlist🩷

🍓 - smut || 🔪 - yandere themes || 💕 - fluff

Harry Potter

Is Tom Riddle able to love? 🔪

Opinion on subby Draco Malfoy 🍓

Some dark!Sirius content 🔪🍓

Call of Duty

Simon Ghost Riley and his princess treatment 💕

#kiriena’s bullshit #let’s chat #ask me anything #call of duty #harry potter #marvel #star wars #cod mwii #fanfiction #star wars writing #harry potter writing #marvel writing #call of duty writing #ghost call of duty #könig cod #draco malfoy #slytherin #tom riddle #spiderman #peter parker #anakin skywalker #x reader #marauders era #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #john price #johnny mctavish

[goodoldfashionedengineer]

Heavy Silence

Warning: This work goes into Bruce Banner's traumatic childhood. It includes themes such as depression, manipulation, child abuse, murder and more. Nothing of it is explicit but if these things are triggering for you, proceed with care or scroll further.

------

It was friday afternoon and Bruce sat in Samson's office. Originally he wanted to cancel for today. He woke up with this tight feeling in his chest. The weight was pulling him down and he could just barely get out of bed. He skipped breakfast and only ate one grilled cheese for lunch.

Bruce didn't know what exactly caused him to act this way. He started to get better. He actually took care of himself, was going out and strengthend his relationships.

But life had to haunt him again. Like many times before. It might never end.

A few years ago, he might have tried to end it all. He made progress, but these kind of days are still there.

On these days, he can barely look into the mirror. The world doesn't feel real sometimes and he forgets what he has done five minutes ago.

Then he hides under the blankets. Never cries, because that is a sign of weakness and he can't be weak, ever.

On these days, he can hear his voice. It's scary. Not just because it is his voice but also because he feels like this little boy again. The little boy in Dayton, Ohio a lifetime ago. The little boy who had to choose between starving and getting hurt. The little boy who tried to hide himself, always unsuccessfully. The little boy who chose to remain silent. The little boy who couldn't protect himself.

The little boy who couldn't protect his mom.

Guilt was a strong emotion on these days. Even though he swore to himself he would never ever feel something again. Guess he can't even keep one promise...

When he feels these intense waves of guilt, there was always a voice which made it even worse. It reminded him of him but it is not exactly him. He sometimes thinks he is the devil's child then and he was right after all. But after a few minutes logic kicks in and tells him that surely the devil couldn't be worse than him. Whatever the reason for the voice's existence is, he found a way to haunt Bruce even after his death which was way to peaceful.

"Bruce, are you with me?"

Blink. Blink. Right. He was in the office. Not in his apartment. Or Dayton.

"Sorry, where were we?"

"We talked a bit about your day and what triggered the panic attack"

Triggered? No, he wasn't triggered. He was all alone today. He didn't go to an event or anything. It wasn't christmas either.

Then he remembered. The news website. "Alcoholic family father kills wife - the children are the only witnesses".

That was it. He did have a panic attack. How could have he forgotten it? He hates his memory issues.

"You read something which was a part of your own childhood. This must have been very distressing, especially when combined with the depressive mood you have been feeling today."

"The headline wasn't a part of my childhood. First, he wasn't a father, a father wouldn't do these horrible things he did to me. Second, I didn't have any siblings, any friends. Sure, there is Jen but she lived in L.A and I in Dayton. I was all alone."

"Let's look further into this."

He said too much. He didn't think before he spoke. It was impulsive. Why wanted Leonard talk about this with him anyway?! He knows the story. They discussed his loneliness often enough.

"Please not."

"Okay, then let me ask another question. Do you remember a period of time in which you felt safe? And I mean not just short moments, but years, months, weeks or days in a row."

Deep down he knew the answer. He still chose to remain silent. And this was an answer in itself.

Samson nodded. "Do you feel safe now?"

He knew the answer but chose to remain silent.

"Why don't you feel safe now?"

He knew the answer but didn't say it out loud. He couldn't. He wouldn't give him this satisfaction after his death.

But no matter how long he stayed silent, it didn't change the answer.

#bruce banner #bruce banner angst #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel writing #marvel one shot #marvel comics #marvel 616 #brian banner #mcu #marvel fanfiction #bruce banner one shot #bruce banner fanfiction #leonard samson #mcu bruce banner #616 bruce banner #the incredible hulk #marvel fandom #rebecca banner #jennifer walters #she hulk #she hulk series #she hulk attorney at law #tw depression #tw derealization #tw dissociation #tw murder #tw childhood abuse #tw religious trauma #tw selfhate

[guyfieriii]

Can someone write something for me based on Peggy Lee’s Fever and base it around Stephen Strange? I CANNOT get that song out of my mind! 🥺🥺🥺

@boop-le-snoot @marvel-writing @englishable @edelweiss-and-maple-trees @shenanigans-and-imagines @apenny4thots @daydreamtofiction

#doctor stephen strange #stephen strange #marvel #marvel writing #doctor strange