Marvel Fanfics

My name’s Wednesday and I just really love Marvel! And I love writing about it! Feel free to send in your requests! I write about any and every marvel character (plus most actors) but my favourites are Deadpool, Bucky Barnes, Loki, Steve Rogers, and Peter Parker! Masterlist!

[marvelhero-fics]

Snowman

Series - Chapter Three

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re a HYDRA assassin that’s worked closely with the Winter Soldier, to each of your dismay you’re reunited with Bucky after the blip.

A/N: SMUT! This was supposed to be plot but it’s genuinely just smut and fluff oops. Enjoy it while it lasts because its about to get so fucking sad lol. Anyways thanks everyone for being so supportive towards the series!

Word Count: 1,500

Snowman Masterlist || Full Masterlist 

New York

2023

“You speak about (Y/N) in a very loving way. Did you ever have a physical or romantic relationship with her?” Bucky’s therapist questioned.

He paused. That part of his relationship felt private to him. It felt like only he and (Y/N) should know. It was never about anyone else, no one else had ever known what they had. He didn’t feel at liberty to share.

“It’s not something I want to talk about.” He avoided eye contact as he replied.

“Why is that?”

“After SHIELD and HYRDA’s secrets were leaked to the world, it felt like everyone could get their hands on whatever information they wanted about me, (Y/N)’s information too. The stuff we shared with each other is the only private life I have left. I don’t feel like telling anyone about it.” Bucky explained. Dr Raynor nodded comfortingly. As much as she wanted too, she didn’t push it.

Moscow

2013

Your tits were shoved up against the cold concrete wall of the shower. Bucky’s cut abs were pushed into your back, his hands firmly holding your hips in place as he buried his cock into you. The warm trickling of water down your nude frame only heightened your senses to what was happening in your core. Bucky’s grunts were muffled by your sharp moans.

“Holy fuck, baby!” You groaned, feeling yourself tighten around him. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” One of your hands held against the wet wall in front of you, and the other clenched Bucky’s real hand at your waist.

The dark pit in your stomach was winding into a tight knot, an influx of little stars pecked at the corners of your vision. Bucky was relentless, he had worlds of stamina and was stronger than he realised.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you let your orgasm pulse through you. Bucky felt your knees weakening, his hands held harder around your hips to keep you in place.

“Please don’t stop,” you whined,

You could practically feel the smirk on Bucky’s lips, “want me to speed up, darling?” he growled, thrusting himself harder inside you. You unravelled on him, your abdomen tensing while your eyes squeezed shut. Pure bliss pounded through your veins while you came all over Bucky’s thick member.

A string of curse words fell from your mouth, stifling Bucky’s deep grunts.

He slowed down as you mellowed from your high, gently pulling his cock out of your core. His hands on your waist turned your frame to face him.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He murmured, his lips falling down to connect with yours. The kiss was tantalizing and smooth. Bucky’s hands softly trailed down to your plump ass. He swiftly lifted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

One of your hands moved to tangle your fingers into the hair at the back of his head, pulling it slightly to move his face away from yours. He smirked at you, taking in your gorgeous features. Your other hand slipped between your bodies to wrap around his length, it was slick with your wetness. You jerked it slowly, watching Bucky bite down on his lip.

You lined him up with your entrance and he pushed himself inside. You let slip a heavenly moan.

He began slowly thrusting again, his hands firmly gripping your as to hold your body steadily up against the shower wall. His member pushed deeply inside you with every movement Bucky made. You clawed against his shoulder blades, his body now pressed tightly up against yours.

You knew you were close again, the knot in your stomach never having the chance to unravel. Your walls clench around him, your legs shaky and tense.

“Fucking hell,” you groaned, arching your back against the concrete. Your head fell back with closed eyes, not being able to focus on anything other than the sheer ecstasy pulsing through your body with every thrust.

Bucky was close too, but you knew he wouldn’t finish until you did again. He took pride in knowing how intensely he could pleasure you.

Your moans echoed through the shower, still encapsulated by the rich feeling of hot water falling along your body. Without warning, you let go. Your hands grabbed at Bucky’s muscled back, your body shaking and tightening as your high hit you like a wave. You couldn’t even think, all you could feel was euphoria. Bucky didn’t hesitate, his pounding thrusts became sloppy and uneven, his fingers clenched hard against the delicate skin of your ass. With one last growl he filled you up, his toned figure tense against yours.

You both took a moment, heaving breaths in time with each other. Your hearts racing at the same pace. He would no doubt recover before you could.

Bucky moved first, slipping himself out of you and gently lowering your feet to the floor. His velvet lips left a trail of kisses across your sensitive collarbone.

“Come stay with me tonight.” You painted, your fingers tangled into his wet, dark hair.

“If we get caught-” Bucky began, speaking against the rich skin of your neck,

“How would we get caught? We're two of the stealthiest assassins in the world.”

His head dragged up to meet yours, his gaze focused on your delicate, pink lips.

“Well, when you put it that way,” he smiled, leaning in for the hundredth kiss of the night.

~

The early amber sun seeped through your blinds like fresh honey through beeswax. It softly pulled you from your peaceful slumber. You couldn’t help but listen to the soft snores of the man next to you. Bucky took up most of the bed space with his huge frame. You cuddled up next to him, admiring how the light entangled in his brunette locks.

Bucky lay sleeping on his stomach, his real arm stretched out to rest over your nude body. He looked comfortable with the duvet pooled around his waist. You’d crept in on him in his room a few times before, he’d always be sleeping on the ground, with nothing but an old blanket. It didn’t seem like something he wanted to talk about, or something he even knew how to talk about. He’d always just say his ‘bed was too soft’. But now, in your bed, he was content.

You shuffled your body closer to his, watching him as he stirred slightly. He didn’t seem ready to get up. Rolling onto his side to face you, you were able to snuggle into his warm chest. His arm instinctively embraced you, his huge frame engulfing yours.

You’d never felt the need to feel safe, you always carried weapons, you were highly skilled, immensely trained. No one in their right mind would try anything on you. But Bucky, your snowman, he made you feel secure. He finally made you feel like you had something worth living for. It was such an obscure feeling to you, it almost felt daunting. Like you finally had something to lose. You wondered if this is what love felt like.

“Stop thinking.” He grumbled, his morning voice raspy.

“That’s difficult when I have such a big, smart brain.” You giggled, your hand moving to push a piece of his long hair from his face.

“Yea, I love that big, smart brain.” He replied, his large hand moving down your back to squeeze your ass.

You looked at his resting face, his eyes hadn’t opened yet. His soft features remained relaxed while his hand stroked along your back.

“Did you dream last night?” You pondered, quietly.

“No.” He replied, remaining in his position of rest. “Did you?”

“Mhm,” you started, “I dreamt about the ocean.”

“Was it a good dream?”

“Yea. I could smell the salty water, and feel the hot sand. It was loud, the crashing waves seemed violent, but it was peaceful. I’ve never been to the beach though,” you rolled over slightly to stare at the ceiling. “Darling,” you added, “have you ever thought about escaping?”

This pulled Bucky’s eyes open, “escape?”

“Escape from this life? Leave HYDRA, be normal people.” You explained, barely above a whisper. Letting your thoughts fall onto the sheets.

“Do you think you can be a normal person?” He inquired.

You paused. All you’d known your whole life was HYDRA. All you’d ever done was assassinate and infiltrate. You’d never had to a cook a meal, do taxes, mow a lawn. But the human part of you always wanted too.

“I guess not.”

Bucky looked over at you with soft eyes. “I don’t remember being a normal person either.” He added, as an attempt at comforting you.

“Were you ever a normal person?” you questioned,

“I think so. I think I lived in New York for a while. Sometimes I have patchy memories about what I think was my old life, and my old friends.” He cracked a faint smile.

“Are they good memories?”

“The best.”

Taglist: @is-it-really-a-secret​ @quxxnxfhxll @stranger-names @bb-tings​  @ohmygodsebastianstan​ @selfsun​

[marvelhero-fics]

Snowman

Series - Chapter Two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re a HYDRA assassin that’s worked closely with the Winter Soldier, to each of your dismay you’re reunited with Bucky after the blip. 

A/N: Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist, no spoilers in this chapter!

Word Count: 1,750

Snowman Masterlist || Full Masterlist 

New York

2023

“Did you see her much after that mission?” Dr Raynor asked Bucky. She seemed interested in (Y/N).

“Yea. I saw her in passing a few times. She spent a lot of time at the base I was at. Sometimes I’d be out of cryo for weeks on a mission. That’s when I saw her the most.”

“What did you do together?”

“Played card games, trained together, built weapons, I taught her how to snipe. Normal shit, I guess.” It felt strange thinking about it all. It felt like a different lifetime to him.

“I guess that is somewhat normal for trained assassins. Did you tell her anything about yourself? After she explained her story, did you reciprocate that?” His therapist questioned.

“I couldn’t. I didn’t really remember that much about myself. Everything I knew was wiped, I was pretty much a blank slate. I couldn’t even tell her my name because I didn’t know it.” Bucky shrugged.

“What did she call you then?”

“She gave me a nickname. Snegovik. It means snowman in Russian. She thought it was hilarious, because I was the Winter Soldier. If anyone else called me snowman I would’ve snapped their necks, but when she did it-'' Bucky paused to think, “It felt nice.”

Moscow

2012

“What’re you doing, snegovik? (snowman)” You placed yourself down at the table opposite Bucky. He looked up at you, his pale blue eyes gazing into yours. You noticed Bucky started looking differently at you as you spent more time together. Instead of a look of hostility or annoyance as he gave to everyone else, it was a gentle look. A look you would give birds dancing in a fountain on a warm day, or a look you would give the sun as it rose so smoothly over the snowy mountains.

“Reading.” He shut the file laid out in front of him. The maroon file had a black HYDRA symbol resting in the middle. It was his next target.

“I haven’t had a case in weeks. I’m bored out of my mind. Do you wanna go to the firing range with me?” You queried. The HYDRA base you were currently stuck at had one of the largest firing ranges down in the basement, with a very fun collection of weaponry.

“I know what we can do. Let’s go snezhinka. (snowflake)” Bucky pushed up against the table to stand, he grabbed his file and walked off. You quickly followed behind.

The two of you ended up in a large room full of dark grey lockers. It was an empty, dusty smelling room. Not many agents or assassins resided at this base so it was mostly desolate.

Bucky pulled a few lockers open, his metal fingers clanking against the steel lockers. He tossed a large coat towards you. It was black with a soft fur lining the hood.

“Put that on.” He demanded.

“Are we going outside?” You asked, tossing the coat over your shoulders and zipping up the front.

“Mhm.” Bucky pulled his sniper rifle out of a locker. It was already put together. He grabbed a small, red box of ammunition and an extra scope. He walked off again, he tended to do that.  

You waltzed off behind him.

“Don’t you need a coat too?”

“No. I’m the snowman, remember?” He smirked back at you. Bucky didn’t smile very often, you always tried to savour the moments that he did.

The two of you exited the compound through a side door, it simply led out into the snowy forest. He began walking out into the snow, along a path he’d obviously walked plenty of times before. The large pines that inhabited the forest were covered in a layer of thick snow. The reminisce of grass and flowers barely poked through the large sheet of white on the ground.

Bucky’s path guided to a small, wooden sniper nest. It was an old sniper range that used to be for protecting the base. As more enhanced people began showing up, HYDRA moved to using giant concrete bunkers instead.

Bucky threw down a thin, dark green blanket and lay down on his stomach. He quickly set up his sniper rifle and adjusted the scope.

“Lie down.” He asserted. You complied, lying down on your stomach next to him. There was nearly no room between your bodies, the sniper nest seemed like it was only made for one. His body radiated heat like a fire. So much for snowman, you thought. Bucky lined up the spare scope and passed it over to you.

“Look through that.”

You stared through the small scope, it showed a few trees over two kilometres away. “What am I looking for?” You asked, quietly.

Bucky didn’t reply. The sound of the silenced sniper announced, and a single pinecone burst into pieces. You turned from the scope to look at the man next to you. “That was 2,000 meters away, holy shit.”

“2,248 meters.” He added, lifting the sniper to sit in front of you. “Your turn.”

“I told you, snegovik, I can’t snipe. I’ve never been good at it.”

“I’ll teach you.” He took the spare scope from your hand. “Get nice and close to the gun, your  shoulder should be up against this part,” he motioned to the back end of the rifle, you shuffled so you were in place, “look through the scope,” you did as he instructed, “and here,” his hand grabbed your wrist, the cool metal of his fingers burnt against your hand. You didn’t know much about how his metal arm worked, but he seemed to have amazing control over it. He was so gentle as directed your hand to a dial near the scope, “use this to adjust your sight. Take it to 500 metres out, we’ll start off easy.”

You adjusted the scope. 500m. You agilely moved to line up with a large pine cone resting on one of the giant pine trees.

“Deep breath.” Bucky said lightly, “fire.”

Your finger snapped down the trigger and the bullet flew. Bucky watched through his own scope as the bullet hit its target.

“I did it!” You announced,

“You’re not as bad as you thought.” He smiled, “go further out and try again.”

You and Bucky sat in that tiny sniper nest shooting pinecones for hours.

~

Bucky left early that morning for his mission, leaving you at the base by yourself for a few days. You spent most of those days shooting and you spent your nights combat training. Unsurprisingly, you’d developed some severe insomnia. In your line of work it wasn’t uncommon. Kraken didn’t want you to take any sort of sleeping medication that the HYDRA doctors suggested because he was afraid it would affect your work ethic. He wanted you staying sharp. Arguably, running off no sleep didn’t have you very sharp.

It was another regular night. 2, maybe 3 in the morning, you were in the gym, giving everything you had to a black punching bag. Your bandaged knuckles were feeling the force with every blow. You tiring body felt shaken under the strenuous training you were putting yourself through.

“It’s a bit late for this, snezhikna.” A deep voice announced from the entrance of the gym. You turned to see a muscular figure. He was covered in black clothing, only revealing his face and his large metallic arm. Not many people were able to sneak up on you, except Bucky, he always could.

“How was the mission?” You returned to your punching bag.

“The target was eliminated.” You heard the faint sound of his boots approaching. By the time you spun around he was directly behind you. “Let’s spar. It doesn’t look like that bag’s putting up much of a fight.”

He moved towards the thin gym mats. You watched as he adjusted his arm, each metal part whirring into place. You unravelled your knuckles, standing on the mat opposite him. The two of you stared in silence for a moment, the tension between you hung like a heavy, black smoke. A vicious grin flicked along your mouth and you began.

Punches were met with dodges, kicks were defended with blocks. You ducked, grabbed his metal wrist and pinned it behind him. He adjusted and threw your body over the top of him. You landed hard on the ground. He smiled. You whipped around and caused his legs to fall out from beneath him. He fell, and you quickly moved to throw your legs around his neck. He lay on the ground in a choke hold between your legs. You didn’t apply too much pressure, just enough to stop him from moving.

“Nice job.” He grunted. Just as you thought he would tap out, he grabbed either side of your waist and twisted you so he was able to free himself from your legs. You scrambled to get off your back but Bucky was too quick. His muscular legs had your ankles pinned down and his metal arm had both of your wrists over your head. It clicked into place and held you pinned to the ground.

You’d never felt weak in your life, you were skilled, strong, smart. But Bucky sitting above you like this made you feel so small.

“How can I tap out if you’re holding my arms?” You joked.

Without a moment's warning Bucky lowered his head and pressed his lips against yours. Everything about Bucky was harsh, rough, and cold. But his kiss, it was gentle and sweet.

You kissed back without hesitation, his metal arm relaxed and your hands tangled into his messy hair. He unpinned your legs and you instinctively wrapped your thighs around his waist. His soft, real hand caressed your waist, holding you as if you were fragile china.

He didn’t touch you with his metal hand. He used it to hold up his weight. He never barely ever touched you with that hand. He never knew how strong it really was and he didn’t want to accidentally hurt you. Ever since you’d told him his hand was cold, he’d been much more cautious with it. You were the warmth in his life. He didn’t want to mess that up.

“Snegovik, we can’t do this here.” You smiled up at him, your hands held gently against his cheeks, his stubble tickling your palms.

“Let’s go then, my snezhinka.” He carefully picked you up and led you out of the gym.

Taglist: @selfsun​ @quxxnxfhxll​ @stranger-names​ @bb-tings​ @is-it-really-a-secret​

[marvelhero-fics]

Snowman Masterlist

Summary: You’re a HYDRA assassin that’s worked closely with the Winter Soldier throughout the years. Things took a turn after SHIELD dissolved and to each of your dismay you’re reunited with Bucky after the blip.

A/N: This series will follow a lot that happens in TFATWS so prepare for spoilers! The first few chapters only follow what happens in the past, when there is obvious spoils I’ll put that in the chapter summary! Enjoy!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

[marvelhero-fics]

Snowman

Series - Chapter One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re a HYDRA assassin that’s worked closely with the Winter Soldier, to each of your dismay you’re reunited with Bucky after the blip. 

A/N: I haven’t posted in like 300 years, but I hope you guys enjoy this new series! This follows parts of TFATWS so expect spoilers! (Also I’m sure all the Russian is absolutely wrong, if you’d like to correct it please send me a message!)

Word Count: 1,815 (future chapters will be wayyy longer)

Snowman Masterlist || Full Masterlist

New York

2023

“So tell me about this-” the therapist looked down at her notes briefly, “(Y/N).” She finished.

Bucky paused momentarily, “No.”

“James, for these therapy sessions to be effective, you need to open up to me. I can’t help you if I don't know what’s wrong.” His therapist responded, laying her pen carefully on her small notebook.

Bucky thought for a moment, taking in the ambience of the room. What would he even say about (Y/N)? He hadn’t seen her in years. Bucky was kicking himself for accidentally bringing her up in his session last week. “I- uh-” he stammered, shifting his weight on the couch, “I met her in 2011. At least I think it was 2011. Date’s get kinda fuzzy sometimes, with all the cryo.” Bucky’s hand pressed against his head, feeling dazed as he tried to think back. “It was at the big HYDRA base outside of Moscow. We had to go on a mission together-” he was cut off,

“Did she work for HYDRA?” Dr Raynor interjected.

“Yea. She was an assassin too. She went by the alias the Viper.” Bucky pretended not to notice his therapist tense up. Anyone who knew anything about HYDRA knew who the Viper was. She was one of the most prolific assassins after the Winter Soldier.

“Tell me more about when you met her.”

“We were instructed to take out a terrorist organisation forming against SHIELD. Which was ironic because we were working for a terrorist organisation. But at this point SHIELD was being run by HYDRA and they couldn’t risk any slip ups, so they put 6 assassins on the job. HYDRA usually didn’t have their assassins working together, we were all too volatile. But we had to take out over 70 people in one night. It was (Y/N), a few assassins from the Red Room, and a few agents that HYDRA had trained personally, and me.” Bucky stopped.

“Where was (Y/N) trained?”

“At a secondary facility run by HYDRA. She was trained from a really young age. It’s all she’s known.” Bucky seemed somber. But his therapist continued,

“What happened on the mission?”

“Nothing. It went exactly to plan. The targets were taken out and we all left without a trace. But (Y/N), she- she kept trying to talk to me, or get to know me. I was the Winter Soldier. No one in their right mind ever tried to ‘get to know me’.”

“Why do you think (Y/N) did that?”

“She told me she was bored.” He replied bluntly.

Moscow

2011

The poorly lit conference room was filled with a myriad of assassins and officials. The only illumination came from old LED lights hanging from the concrete ceiling. The mossy green paint on the walls looked as if it hadn’t been patched up in years. The only new-ish part of the room was the large, oak conference table, surrounded by black, leather seating. It was difficult not to notice the red HYDRA symbol holding a spot on almost every piece of clothing in the area.

“TITAN terroristicheskaya organizatsiya, formiruyushchayasya protiv nas. (TITAN is a terrorist organisation forming against us.)” Kuznetsov spoke, “Izbrannyye budut otpravleny segodnya vecherom v Ukrainu dlya vypolneniya postavlennoy zadachi. Uberi ikh. (The chosen ones will be sent to Ukraine tonight to complete their given tasks. Take them out.)”

That was all it took. You stared at the file in front of you. You had read through it multiple times, going over every single name, every single skill set your targets had. You were more than certain you could complete this job on your own. But you had no choice on the matter.

Your eyes darted around, taking in the faces of the assassins that were to accompany you on your mission. Two youthful females, dressed in black leather sat next to each other. The older, grimacing woman behind them was Madame B., the head supervisor of the Red Room. You moved your gaze to the two agents in dark green uniforms and red, soviet berets. Neither looked particularly menacing.

You finally landed on the last assassin. His dark hair fell like curtains around his face. Gloomy blue eyes searched their way through the room. His sharp jaw seemed tense through his stubbled cheeks. He was large, extremely built. Covering his frame was an amplitude of black clothing and gear.

“Play nice.” Your mentor spoke softly over your shoulder, breaking you from your train of thought.  

“I always do.”

~

Your padded snow boots ripped through the thick snow covering the ground. The six of you had hiked your way to the set point on your GPS systems, the clouds of snowfall covering your vision held the illusion that there were absolutely no structures nearby. A large helicopter had dropped the group a few miles out from the hideout to ensure nothing was compromised. The trek was in utter silence, fighting against the harsh temperature in mid February.

The waypoint became closer on your map, a tiny building slowly appeared in your vision against the foggy downfall. It was a small, wooden cabin. Everyone hustled their way through the unlocked door. It was barren, it held no furniture, no blankets, no means of any life. There appeared to be a few doors that led to small, empty rooms. The entrance only held a small fireplace, filled with old cut down logs that had been eaten by bugs.

The group quickly dispersed, you headed to one of the rooms alone, throwing down your belongings onto the floor. The bag you carried was mainly filled with weapons and ammunition, along with a very warm sleeping bag. You knew too well you wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, but you would need the extra heat for now.

There was no chatter anywhere in the house. Your mission would begin in 6 hours. Everyone was likely putting together their artillery. You decided to cozy up in your navy sleeping bag for a moment of comfort.

Someone had lit the fire in the lounge. A warm, orange light crept through the cracks in your door. The ambiance was strangely calming for a shitty cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Snow continued to fall against the tiny glass pane of your room. You weren’t a fan of assassinating in the snow. It was low vision, harsher climates, and it lessened the ability to move. Snakes weren’t creatures of the cold. Conveniently you’d been grouped with someone who called himself ‘The Winter Soldier’. I’m sure he loves the cold, you thought.

You’d heard a lot about him. Everyone had. He was the perfect assassin. He never failed a mission, his body didn’t reject cryo, every form of enhancement HYDRA had used on him had been a success. He was what every assassin had aspired to be.

Without thought, you grabbed the glass bottle laying next to you and walked off to the room the Winter Soldier had claimed for the night.

“Privet (Hello)”. You announced, pushing his door open with a creak. His head didn’t turn towards you. He sat on the floor, the sound coming from him indicated he was sharpening knives.

“Khochesh' vypit'? (Want a drink?)” You asked, motioning the bottle towards him.

He stayed silent for a moment. Finally he turned, looking up at you from his position on the floor. “What is it?” His dark tone asked back. The amber light from the fire crashed against his features. His strong jaw was covered with a dark stubble, his brunette hair tucked behind his ears. His most obvious feature was the hauntingly blue eyes that sat in sunken sockets, he looked drained.

“It’s vodka.” You stated, honestly. You were surprised to hear he wasn’t Russian, he sounded… American?

“You’re drinking before a mission?” He queried.

You shrugged. “Alcohol doesn’t freeze.” You sat down next to him. “Plus it takes the edge off.” A faint clinking noise announced as you placed the bottle on the floor between you two. He stared at you for a moment, before quietly going back to his knives.

“Wanna play 20 questions?” You interrupted the silence.

“No.”

“What about truth or dare?”

“I’m not 14.” the soldier replied, his eyes not leaving his handy work.

“How old are you?” You shot back,

“Why are you trying to get to know me?” He dodged your question.

“I’m bored.” You shrugged, taking a deep swig of the vodka. “And by my calculations,” you peered down at your watch, “we still have 3 hours and 27 minutes until the mission starts.”

He gave a shallow sigh, “93.”

“What?”

“I’m 93. How old are you.”

“93?! You were born in 1917?”

“Mhm. How old are you.”

“25. You look great for 93.” You chuckled.

“You look old for 25.” He jabbed back. His knife sharpener still grinding across a 6 inch blade.

“You flatter me.” You replied sarcastically. “So what’s your story? How’d you make it to 93?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Why would I ask if I didn’t want to know?”

Bucky looked over at you. “I’m telling you, you don’t want to know.”

“C’mon old man,  I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” You smirked. He once again, went back to his knives. It almost seemed as if he was trying to threaten you, pulling out larger knife after larger knife.

You huffed, opening your mouth to speak, “I was born in Hungary to a drug abusing mother, and an absent father. I was kidnapped and sold to HYDRA when I was 6. I was placed under the care of the Kraken. Not sure if you’ve met him, he’s this large guy-”

“I’ve met him.” Bucky stated, interrupting your spiel.

“Right, well, he trained me for years. Eventually HYDRA got involved again and I was tested on, experimented on, messed with, ya’ know, all that fun stuff.” You explained.

“Are you enhanced?” Bucky asked, almost as if he was actually interested.

“Yea. I have this whole snake venom trick. It’s great for up close combat. The experiments really should’ve killed me though. But maybe that’s what makes us so good-” Bucky looked over at the woman next to him, her bright eyes stared back at him as she spoke “ya’ know, the best assassins are the ones living off borrowed time. Because we’ve met death before, so we’re not afraid to do it again.”

Bucky quickly grabbed the Barrett M82 rifle next to him, his metal arm making faint whirring noises. “I’m going to scope out the base.” He stated bluntly. And with that, his large black boots walked him out the bedroom, and out the door.

You let out a faint sigh, creeping back to your room to sort out your weapons. You were sure it was something you said that scared him off. I guess at 93 you have to be living off too much borrowed time, you speculated. You absentmindedly set up your pistols, your mind not being able to wander from the Winter Soldier. Maybe annoying the Red Room girls would get your mind off it.

[marvelhero-fics]

Silent Britain

Series - Chapter Two

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You and Tom are working as love interests in a new Scorsese film, essentially leading to be love interests in real life

A/N: I’m sorry this chapter took a little longer to come out! I’ve just been so busy recently and I really wanted to go through and edit it before it was published. Thank you for all waiting patiently and being so supportive of the last two chapters. I hope you’re all enjoying it so far!!

The italics in this story are the readers thoughts!

Word Count: 4,000

Silent Britain Masterlist || Full Masterlist

Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad.

The illusion of time had once again slipped through your fingers. Without any vivid consciousness, you’d made it back to your hotel and stood in front of the giant wall mirror. Your hair fell in loose curls down your shoulder that you’d only done moments ago, framing your face that held a ‘natural’ make-up look, that contained far too much make-up to be considered natural. The only clothes currently covering your figure were your underwear and bra, as you thought over what to wear. The letter addressed to everyone had said the event was semi-formal. Whatever that meant.

After trying on almost everything you’d brought with you, you landed on a small black number. It was a strapless dress that hugged your figure divinely. It was a satin black with a length that went just below your knee, however there was a slit up the right side that showed off most of your thigh. I didn’t fake tan for nothing. You dressed it up slightly with layered silver necklaces, along with a few rings. Finally, topping it off with your black strappy heels. I bet Tom will like this. The thought crashed into your mind out of nowhere. You shook your head and sprayed on some perfume before collecting your purse and invitation.

You were escorted once again by the same driver that took you to set earlier. You gave him the address on the invitation, but he dismissed it, clearly already sure of where he was headed. This time, the drive was actually quite short, and you’d managed to stay focused the entire time. You’d watched as the tall city building began fading and the larger, modern houses began appearing, many of them mainly hidden behind great hedges, or large stone fences. You watched as the neighbourhoods became richer and richer, slightly wondering what it would be like to live a life as glamorous as this. The only really nice house you’d been to was Reese Witherspoon’s. She owned a gorgeous mansion in Los Angeles, and she’d invited the cast of Big Little Lies around for dinner one night. You tried not to freak out too much. However, that was probably the moment you’d really felt your fame beginning to kick in.

The front of the house was guarded by an incredibly large gate, surrounded by a regal stone fence. There was two men waiting by the gate each in a black suit, obviously waiting for the guests to arrive. Your black tinted window was lowered for you. One of the men, the larger, balder one, asked for your invitation. You obliged, and the other man nearer to the gate opened it. The drive-way wasn’t very long, but it was large, there was room for probably 5 to 6 cars to park, along with a garage to the side that seemed to fit 2 or 3 cars. The house was noticeably large from the outside, with an older architectural design. The outer walls were mainly painted white with a dark coloured roofing. Your driver pulled up as close as possible to the door, to which you kindly thanked him and hopped out. The nerves set back in, you weren’t sure how many people had arrived, you weren’t even entirely sure who was coming, other than Tom, of course. You were once again greeted at the door by a larger man in a black suit, you’d concluded this was probably the security for the evening. He opened the door for you, without saying a word. You mumbled a thank you as you entered.

Everything was almost how you’d expected it. A chic, clean design throughout the house. An elegant stairway to the right, with a huge open plan. One of the living rooms was to the left, with the kitchen further down. You were greeted by a familiar face, it was the younger gentleman who’d given you the invitation in the first place. He welcomed you to the event before introducing himself as Donald, stating that he was Martin's personal assistant. He directed you down the large hallway into another of the living spaces. It was passed the stairs to the right. You entered the large room, not knowing what to expect. It was a huge room with incredible leather furniture and a large plasma TV that hung above a magnificent fireplace. The space was opened further as large sliding doors on the back wall opened out to a deck. The flooring inside was dark wooden floors that echoed the sound of your heels as you walked. After noticing the interior design of the place, you finally took notice of the figures scattered through the room. It looked as though most people had arrived.

It didn’t take long to notice the waiter walking around the room with a metal tray that held a few full champagne flutes. You were quick to grab one from him, politely thanking him as you still stood in the doorway of the room. You turned your body slightly, shielding people from seeing the glass in your hand as you bought it up to your lips. You decided it would be a good idea to try and down the whole thing in one go. They do it in movies all the time, right? You quickly got through about ¾ of the drink before the burning sensation really hit your throat. You pulled it away from your mouth, almost spilling the rest of it down your chin. Fuck, how do people do that. You sputtered. The champagne was actually really nice, but the alcoholic after taste is what stopped you. What a stupid idea. Go socialise.

You made your way deeper into the room, scanning where you might be able to stop for a pleasant conversation. Part of you just wanted the floor to swallow you whole. Your eyes quickly found Rachel Weisz and Daniel Craig. You initiated small talk with the pair for the second time today, which began attracting a bigger crowd. Finn Wolfhard, Idris Elba, and Sean Bean all joined the chatter, each introducing themselves to you. On top of all that, you were now starting to feel the small side-effects of that champagne as your eyes began to find it hard to focus. You noticed a few more people joining the circle, some producers and editors had made it to the party too. God, I’m never going to remember all these names.

A hand lightly slid across your lower back, someone’s confident. You sternly turned to see who it was as you were ripped away from the moment in front of you. Just like this morning, you were greeted with a large grin and curly brown hair.

“Hi (Y/N).” He greeted, warmly.

“Hi Tom.” You responded, his contagious grin rubbing off on you. You pulled him into an embracing hug, to further greet him.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He finally said as you two broke apart.

“You knew I was going to be here.” You replied, with a questioning look.

“Yea, but I almost thought you weren’t going to show up.”

“What would give you that idea?” You pressed.

“Well, you seemed pretty nervous at the meeting today.”

“Oh, I’m glad I gave off that impression.” You joked, all your tense muscles beginning to relax. Tom laughed at your response.

“It’s okay. I was super nervous the first time I did one of those meet up things, too.” He assured you.

“When was the first time you had to do it?” You queried.

“Like, late 2014. I had to do it for Captain America; Civil War. It was a pretty huge cast and they’d all been in Marvel movies before, except for me. And plus, I was like 18 at the time. It was super overwhelming.” Tom explained. You found yourself almost getting lost as he spoke, like some sort of trance. You wanted to sit and listen to him speak forever. It’s probably just the alcohol.

“How’d you get through it?”

“Robert Downey Jr was a huge help. He kinda took me under his wing, and mentored me through all of it. When someone that famous starts paying attention to you, it makes the whole thing surprisingly less daunting.”

“So, what you’re saying is, I need to make Tom Hardy my mentor.” You stated, confidently. Earning another chuckle from Tom. His smile expanded hugely when he laughed, forcing the corners of his eyes to crinkle up and his head to push back slightly.

“Good job picking the most threatening guy in the room.” He replied, laughter still escaping his lips.

“You think so?”

“Look at the guy! He huge! He’s built like a brick shit house!” Both of you now giggling away at each other. The alcohol in both of your systems seemed to be working.

“I thought I was the most threatening guy in the room!” You interjected.

“Yea, all 5’6 ft of you.” He wittily replied.

“No, seriously. Wanna know who I think the most threatening person is?” You grabbed Tom’s suit covered arm and turned his body to the right. “Christian Bale.” You continued, without even giving Tom time to guess. “I mean have you seen American Psycho?” Both of you now facing where Christian stood on the other side of the room. Without consciously realising, you arm slipped around his, now interlinked together as you tried to not obviously stare at Christian.

“Of course I’ve seen American Psycho, it’s a fucking great film.” Tom exclaimed back, tensing his bicep as the two of you squeezed your linked arms together. I guess we both get a little too friendly when we’re drunk.

Your eyes widened and grin expanded as you looked up at him with a questioning glare.

“No. I mean-” Tom stuttered slightly. “The cinematography is great and the acting is fucking incredible, but obviously the story is pretty fucked up.” He added, peering down at you. Considering your bodies were held side-by-side, your faces ended up very close to each other. God, that cologne. You had to bite down on your lip to not audibly moan, he smelt so fucking amazing. There was a clink of metal against glass, silencing the chatter amongst the room.

“If everyone could please head into the dinning area, dinner is being served!” Martin announced.

The group of you slipped into the dining area, Tom sticking close to your side. You actually felt a lot of comfort having him close to you, making you feel as though you weren’t as lonely as when you’d arrived.

There was no particular seating arrangement around the extended dining table, everyone simply found a space and sat down. You’d managed to secure a seat with Timothée to your right, and Tom sat to your left.

“Hey, I don’t think we’ve had the chance to meet yet. I’m (Y/N).” You spoke to Timothée. The mixture of alcohol and Tom’s contagious confidence swirled in your mind.

“Oh yea. Nice to meet you. I’m Timothée.” He replied, his voice was soft and welcoming.

“I’m actually a big fan. I’ve seen heaps of your work.” You began, “I absolutely loved Beautiful Boy. I’ve always wanted to work with Steve Carell.” Timothée’s eyes lit up, and you began your in depth conversation about how much you both adored Steve, most of your love stemming from the fact that The Office was your favourite TV show.

It didn’t take long before your entree was served. The waiter informed you it was ‘peppercorn-crusted short ribs with lemon, olives, and radishes’. You thanked him as you stared in awe at the plate in front of you. The smell of the deliciously cooked meat hit you first, then the incredible colours of the plate, from the green of the garnish, to the yellow of the lemon, and the pink of the radish. You weren’t really used to fine dining.

You took no time to dig into your meal. “This is so nice.” You conveyed to Tom.

“I know.” He responded, eyes wide and mouth full. “There’s this amazing restaurant in central London that does food like this. I’ll take you there sometime.” He added, almost absentmindedly. Take me to dinner? Is that an offer for a date?

“Sounds good.” You simply replied. Moving to take another bite of your food.

You continued to chat to Timothée, sparking conversation about working with Robert Pattinson, Tom decided to join too. The three of you continued chatting and laughing as your main courses were brought out. It was once again introduced to you, ‘braised chicken with hazelnut and chilli paste with a turnip and wild mushroom bake’. It was difficult being polite and waiting for everyone to get their food before you could begin eating. Everything looked and smelled amazing. This really was the life of the rich and famous. Having all these beautiful meals catered and served to you in your own home. God, I could get used to this.

Conversation flowed easily throughout the table. People joking about ‘who would win in a fight between Batman and James Bond’, or people discussing ‘Venom and Spider-Man being in a movie together’, in which Tom Holland was very eager to talk about. You even had the chance to talk to a few more actors, including Anthony Hopkins. You essentially just told him how much you loved his work, and how grateful you were to be working with him on this film. He replied stating that him and his wife were huge fans of Big Little Lies, and you just about fainted on the spot.

Next was dessert. It was simply ‘authentic Italian tiramisu’. It looked nice and clean on the plate, with the lightest dusting of cocoa powder. I wish I saved more room for dessert. Just as everyone was about to begin eating, Martin stood up and began a speech.

“First of all, thank you all for being here tonight.” With that line, you peered around the room. It finally began to sink in how surreal this all was. You were sitting in Martin Scorsese’s dining room with actors that you’d only dreamed of meeting. I guess I’ve finally made it.

Martin went on to state that the tiramisu was due to his Italian culture, and that he’d never really done a British film before, but he was so excited to do Silent Britain with this cast. And with that, he told everyone to dig in.

The chatting and laughter continued in the room, however your conversation just focused on Tom.

“Well, I was born and raised in Reading, but I’ve moved into a little house in Wimbledon now with a friend because it’s so much nicer living close to central London.” You explained.

“I live in Kingston!” Tom exclaimed back,

“Holy shit. We’re practically neighbors.” You laughed in response. You exchanged the streets you both lived on, and found out you actually lived about 10 minutes away from each other. What a coincidence. The two of you talked about the best places to get food around where you lived, and the best pubs.

“Are you going to finish that?” Tom asked, pointing over at your half-eaten tiramisu.

“No. I feel bad, but I’ve eaten so much already-” before you could even finish, Tom swapped his empty plate with yours, and began eating away at your dessert.

“Thanks love.” He stated, cheekily.

“How can you eat so much?’ You laughed back,

“I had to get really skinny for the last role I did, and I was deprived of good food for so long, so now I’m trying to fatten up again and just eating whatever I want.”

“‘Fatten up’” you mocked, “I’ve seen the Spider-Man movies, you’ve never been fat.” You chuckled.

“Well, then I’m trying to bulk up. Whenever I go to the gym nowadays I can’t do half the shit I used to be able to do when I was training for Spider-Man.”

“I love going to the gym. We should work out together.” You smirked. This delicious champagne is giving me far too much power. Tom turned towards you, looking you up and down only slightly.

“We definitely can’t go to the gym together.” He responded, washing down his last mouthful of tiramisu with some beer.

“Why not?” You asserted back.

“Because you’d be way too much of a distraction.” Tom stated, his voice darker than before. Every fibre of your being told you to take him to the bathroom and slam him up against a wall right now. But, obviously, that’s a little rude.

“Your loss, Holland.” You replied, just above a whisper, with a flirtatious smirk.

You could tell by the movements around you that the night was coming to an end. The table was being entirely cleared, people were picking up their bags and putting their coats on. You lifted your handbag off the ground below your seat and swung it over your shoulder. As you stood from your chair, you tried your best to hold your stomach in. I shouldn’t have worn such a tight dress.

“Where are you headed?” Tom asked, throwing his suit jacket on.

“I’m staying at the Four Seasons.” You replied,

“Me too.” He looked at you, almost as if you’d just blown his mind. “We should get a lift back there together.” He added.

“Sounds like a good idea.” You smiled, your body closed the gap between the two of you and you grabbed the collar of his jacket to fix it for him, so it wasn’t sticking out. He beamed down at you.

“Thanks love.”

The two of you went over and graciously thanked Martin for hosting tonight. “Make sure you two get to know each other before filming! I want the chemistry to look real!” Martin expressed, to which you and Tom chuckled. That definitely won't be a difficult task. You both said good-bye to a few others that you’d talked to throughout the night and strolled out the door.

Tom quickly went over to one of the many black SUVs lined up outside, opening the back door for you. “Thank you.” You smiled at him as you hopped in. You told the driver where to go and the ride began.

“Was Robert Downey Jr’s parties anything like that?” You questioned, turning your body on the seat to face Tom.

“Honestly, Robert’s parties are way more extravagant than that. He likes to go really over the top with them. I’ll take you to one one day.” Perfect. Another date.

“Have you got more Marvel movies to make?”

“Yea, I’m definitely making another Spider-Man movie, and then I guess we’ll see where my contract goes after that. I’m not entirely sure what the plan is, and Marvel is always pretty hush-hush about everything. Have you ever thought about doing a superhero movie?”

“Yea. I’ve definitely thought about it.” Tom gazed as you with a faint, comforting smile as you spoke. “I’ve just never really found a role to audition for. And I’ve heard they’re a lot of work.”

“They definitely are. The filming goes on forever. But all of the cast and crew are always super awesome people, and they’re always so good at what they do. I feel like being in those films has really elevated my acting skills, you know?”

“Yea, definitely. Being around other incredible actors on set seriously helps.”

“Well, let me know if you ever want me to put in a good word for you at Marvel. They love me over there.”

“Maybe I’ll try play Gwen Stacy, if they ever reprise her in the universe.” You joked.

“I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to that.” The discussion continued all the way back to the hotel. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, or if Tom was naturally like this, but he would not stop flirting with you. You weren’t helping by doing it back. You even pulled out all the old tricks, like touching his arm, and twirling your hair on your finger. At one point you got extremely close to him to ‘fix his hair’ for him, to which he purposely messed it up so you could fix it for him again.

The driver in the front was probably thankful that the drive had come to an end, considering how much you and Tom were talking.  

You were reminded of how late it was when you stepped out of the car. The night sky was entirely black, however the Los Angeles streets were still lit brightly by street lamps and the multiple buildings. You walked up to the small amount of stairs leading to the entrance of the building. Tom quickly grabbed your arm as you were about to try to walk up them. Your thin heels and and the alcohol in your system definitely weren’t going to be a fair match for these stairs.

“Thank you.” You laughed. You leaned some of your body weight on Tom as the two of you strolled up the stairs and into the building. Once again, your arm stayed linked within his, even though it didn’t have to. It just felt comfortable for the both of you.

“What floor are you on?” He asked.

“6.”

“I’m on 9.” He replied, as the two of you made it to the elevators. He reached out to press the up button, still not letting go of you.

“Can you walk me to my room?” You asked, with a joking pout.

“Of course I can.” The elevator chimed and you both rode up to level 6 together. As you walked down the carpeted hallway, you laughed together about something silly you’d read in the script. The two of you were obviously walking slower than usual, dragging out the time you had to spend together.

Finally, you arm slipped out of his embrace to rummage around your small handbag for the key card.

Once finding it, you slipped it into the door, and pulled it back out with a beep. The alcohol in your system meant you had to apply a little more force to open the heavy hotel door. You held it open with your body as your turned to face Tom.

“Well, this is me.” You smiled lightly, staring into Toms dark brown eyes. “Thank you for walking me up.”

“No problem.” He returned the grin. His gaze fell to your mouth for just a moment, ogling the light reflecting off your glossy lips. He stood close enough to you that you could smell that cologne he was wearing again, you still couldn’t put your finger on exactly what the smell was, other than wealthy. Each of your breaths were deep, a thick tension radiating between your bodies. You twirled with one of the silver rings on your fingers, gulping slightly as his eyesight returned to yours. The flutters in your chest turned to heavy beats, so loud you were sure Tom could hear them too. Your gut was telling you to grab him and stick your tongue down his throat until the two of you would end up messily entangled in each other on your hotel bed, but your head was telling you that really wouldn’t be a good idea.

“I-” you stammered, “I should really go. I have a big day tomorrow,” that’s a lie, “and I should really get a good night's sleep.”

“Yea, of course. I probably should too.” Tom almost sounded defeated.

“Cool. I’ll see you like some time next week.” You pursed your lips together, not wanting to make eye contact with him.

“Yea. I’ll see you next week.” And with that, you fell into your hotel room and shut the door behind you. Your back immediately hit the wall and you slumped down into a pile on the floor. A giant sigh fell from you lips, feeling like all the air in your lungs was drained from you. Shit.

Taglist!

@averyfosterthoughts​ @loxbbg​ @musicandbokkslovingweirdo​ @yourwonderbelle​ @kayceeeveeee​ @autty0314​ @poorlittlesuperstar​ @rebeccamckirgan99​ @xherosxvillainsx​ @rachaeldonnaspiteri1​ @hollands-osterfield​ @shambhavi-sethi​ @a-phan-of-youtube​ @theobssessiveweirdo​ @zedqkyu​ @nophunleague​ @spideylovin​ @martinafigoli​ @smilealways19​ @ziggyspurplehaze​ @meg-holland​ @marvelousharryy​ @tequilasunrisesenorita​ @mixer2b​ @denise1605​ @galacticstxrdust​ @lustgardn​

[marvelhero-fics]

Silent Britain

Series - Chapter One

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You and Tom are working as love interests in a new Scorsese film, essentially leading to be love interests in real life

A/N: This is technically chapter one! Thanks for all the support on the prologue I'm glad heaps of you enjoyed it! I also wasn’t really planning on doing a taglist for this fic but a lot of people requested to be on it so I ended up making one (it’s below the cut at the bottom). If you’d like to be on it just send me a message or leave a comment on pretty much any Silent Britain post. Thanks for the support again!!!!!!

This chapters a bit of a slow-burn but next chapter get much more interesting. Please go read the prologue first, this chapter will make much more sense if you do. It’s linked down below in the masterlist. 

The italics in this story are the readers thoughts!

Word Count: 3,800

Silent Britain Masterlist || Full Masterlist 

And there goes the explosion. “I need to pull over. I’m about to have a stroke.”

The next two weeks truly flew by. You were partly happy, because you couldn’t wait to fly out to California and meet everyone, but it did also heighten your nerves. You did as much research as you could about Britain in the 70’s, even taking time to go see your grandparents who were conveniently alive at the time. But, by their description of the decade you could tell they must’ve been on some crazy drug back then, I guess that’s a pretty big tell of what the 70’s were like anyway.

“I promise you’re gonna do such an amazing job, I’m always just a phone call or text away if you need me, (Y/N/N).” Evie sung, pulling you into the tightest embrace.

“I know, Eve. I’m gonna miss you so much.” You pouted. To make life a little easier for yourself, you’d decided to fly out to California and stay there until production started, which was set to be in about a month. That way you didn’t have to fly there, then home, then there again, considering it was a twelve hour flight, and God, you hated flying.

“You are going to be incredible, my darling girl.” Your mum stated, giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She knew she wouldn’t be able to see you for a while so she’d come over to send you off.

“Thanks mum. I love you heaps and I’ll call you when I get there.” You were incredibly close with your mum. She had always been such a huge support system for you and your career, you always credited any success you had to her.

And with that, you were in the car being driven to the airport.

~

The twelve hour flight had taken your physical and mental battery down to about 0. Even up in First Class all you did was read your script over and over, and panic. As well as getting some time to watch The Departed, one of Scorsese’s incredibly well done films. Unfortunately, instead of enjoying it, you essentially studied it. Fortunately, you got to use your ‘Taxi Driver’ notebook. Is this slightly obsessive? You studied how DiCaprio and Nicholson delivered their lines, and how often the sets changed, and all the camera angles. God, you’re purposely trying to freak yourself out now.

Touching down in California was nice. The first thing you really noticed was the heat. It was July, so it was the middle of summer, and in California it got hot. Of course, you weren’t complaining, this meant nice air conditioning on set, as well as good weather to work with in production. Yea, that would be the only thing I think about.

An older looking gentleman stood at the arrival gate with a sign that read (Y/L/N) in bulk letters. You quickly went over to greet him. Lazily, you strolled out to the large SUV, trying to get as much time on your feet as possible after the long flight. You’d seen photos, and heard horror stories of actors being mobbed at airports, with fans even waiting at the arrival gates all day to catch a glimpse of their favourite celebrity. That never happened to you, but you tried to be much more thankful than jealous. Large crowds weren’t really your forte.

“How was your flight, Miss (Y/L/N)?” Your driver politely asked, turning on the engine of the car.

“It wasn’t too bad. It just felt super long,” you chuckled, sluggishly.

“Well, at least you’re back on solid ground now.” He smiled through the rear-vision mirror.

“Yea, very happy to be. Out of curiosity, are you picking up any other members of the cast?” You peered up, knowing this man likely worked for the studio.

“Indeed, I am. I picked up Jude Law yesterday morning, and Daniel Craig and Rachel Weisz last night.” He responded,

“Huh, and what’re they like?”

“Well, Mr Law was very friendly, we ended up chatting most of the way to the hotel. And Mr Craig and Mrs Weisz seemed lovely, but I didn’t talk with them very much. They were a little more closed off.” He continued, you simply nodding to his words, “And I believe I’m picking up a Mr Holland much later tonight.”

“Oh, right. Busy day for you then.”

“Well, it’s just the usual.” And with that, you stopped talking. Your mind wandered off the small talk. God almighty, it’s gonna be a fucking long night tonight. You thought, simply just processing all the things you knew you had to organise before tomorrow. The ride to the hotel didn’t seem like a very long one, or maybe it was? Maybe you’d zoned out to an entire different reality and didn’t notice time passing, either way you made it to the Four Seasons and checked in with no trouble at all.

It was pretty much exactly what you’d expect from the Four Seasons. A small, spacious living area, with a large, grey L-shaped couch, and a big-screen TV. A small kitchen to the left, that you’re sure wouldn’t be able to make more than a bowl of pasta. A bedroom off in a separate room, with a bed that was far too big for one person. And an Asylum-white bathroom with a bathtub that was going to make your stay here much better. Looks like this is home for the next month. Being apart of the Hollywood scene, you got kind of used to hotel rooms becoming a second home. The amount of time you spent essentially having to tour around California for filming, staying in different hotels with similar-looking hotel rooms just became second nature.

First point of action; now that you’d touched down and gotten comfortable, was to call your mother. She’d slowly figured out how to worry less about you, now that you were older and had figured your life out a bit more, but she was still always going to be a mother.

The phone only rang twice before she picked up. “Hey, mum.” You greeted,

“Hi, love! I’m glad you’re safe and well, how was your flight?”

“Long. But the hotel’s really nice.” You responded, letting your body fall back onto the king-sized bed.

“Did you watch any movies?”

“Yea, I watched The Departed.”

“Oh, that’s a bit of a grim film, love.” Your mum stated, being as motherly as ever.

You chuckled a bit, “wait until you see the film I’m about to be in.”

“Did you get any sleep on the plane? And how was the food?”

“Yea, the food was really nice, it was like a salmon and couscous thing. And no, I didn’t really get any sleep, but I didn’t really try too, I kinda had a lot of other things to do.” You spoke.

“Well, you need to make sure you get some sleep tonight. And you let me know if you need anything at all!” Your mother conveyed

“Thanks, mum. And I promise everything is going fine, I’m fine. And I’ll let you know how the cast meet up and rehearsals go.” You returned. And with her best wishes, your mother hung up. That left you lying there, your body slightly sunken into the soft mattress of the Four Seasons bed. Almost every celebrity you’d met had told you to not search your own name on the internet. They always told you you’d find some very unfavourable things, but if you didn’t go looking for it you wouldn’t find it. So with that excellent mentality, you searched your name.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N). It took only seconds to type and click enter. The first article talked about the upcoming film. I guess the news already broke. It was probably leaked purposely for publicity, you didn’t care either way.

Upcoming Scorsese Film to have Star-Filled Line Up, Signing Hopkins, Hardy, Bale, and (Y/L/N). Being called a star was quite nice. It always shocked you just a little bit, knowing that people knew your name. Knowing that you’d actually become news. This is what you’d wanted for a long time though, to be a movie-star. You read further into the article.

‘Scorsese’s latest film to centre around 1970’s British Mob family, the Bakers. No news on the initial release date, however official members of the cast include Tom Hardy, Anthony Hopkins, Christian Bale, and (Y/N) (Y/L/N).’ The article showed photos of the four of you, including a photo of Scorsese. At least they picked a nice picture.

‘If this mobster film is anything like we’ve seen in the past from Scorsese, we can expect a stunning and vivid look at the ugliness and volatile nature of true Gangster films. Potentially even a few Academy Awards if Scorsese continues his war-path of masterly crafted cinema.’ You even chuckled at that last line, the Academy Awards. You’d attended the Emmys last year and that was the highlight of your life. If you were at the Oscars you’d probably spontaneously combust. You flicked your phone off and threw it to the other side of the bed, lying patiently in the quickly setting Californian sun. Am I supposed to feel this overwhelmed? You simply sat with your thoughts for a few moments, knowing that nothing was going to be the same after this film. Martin Scorsese essentially started Robert De Niro’s career in Taxi Driver, same with Jodie Foster. Not to mention Al Pacino’s career starting in a 70’s gangster film too. Each of these actors now being multi-award winning, millionaires. I don’t think I could function being that famous.

Once you’d finished basking in the glory and horror of it all, you sorted out your clothes from all of your luggage, and headed to bed. It was probably still too early to be in bed, but you’d had no sleep on the flight and just wanted to rest, especially for the chaos of tomorrow.

~

That all-too-familiar noise of your phone alarm ripped you back into consciousness. Surprisingly, you’d slept like the dead last night. You thought the panic and nerves would’ve kept you up, or disrupted your sleep, but thankfully it was actually very peaceful. Wonder how long that’s gonna last. Everything you did during the morning was mechanical. Having a shower, getting dressed, doing your hair and make-up. It was all just simply going through the motions while your mind ticked away. You tried to remember every part of the script, while also going over today’s encounters. Am I supposed to act like a fan of these actors? Or do I act super cool? Like I don’t care?

Your gaze rested upon your figure in the mirror. Wearing a casual pair of jeans, a regular t-shirt, with your favourite Nikes. Along with bits and pieces of jewellery that fitted. Do I look too plain? Like one of the million assistants on set? Was everyone else going to be dressed up? What sort of cast meet up is this? It was 9:00 am, so regardless of your racing thoughts, you didn’t have any time to change. You grabbed your hand-bag, script, and note-book and went downstairs to get into the car the studio had sent, and with that you were on the long drive to set. Neither you or the driver talked to each other, you partly blamed yourself for not initiating conversation. Your mum would’ve been upset with you. ‘No matter how famous you get, my darling, you’re not allowed to look down on others. You can never think of yourself as better than others. You’ll always be a regular person, who makes mistakes, and does great things. Always, always be kind.’ She’d always lecture you. God, you’d kill to have your family here with you.

The SUV pulled up to the lot, getting access to the private area where the meet-up was happening. You made sure to thank the driver before you met up with a shorter, plumper lady, who obviously seemed like she was expecting you by her greeting.

“Welcome to the studio, (Y/N). My name’s Angela, I’m the production manager for Silent Britain.” She spoke, the Californian accent very prominent in her voice.

“Nice to meet you.” You responded,

“It’s nice to meet you too, if you could just follow me, I'll take you to the room where everyone’s meeting.” She said with a smile.

“Sounds good.” Angela walked you to the huge garage-type room. Well, it wasn’t actually a room, it was just an empty stage on the lot. The 12 ft tall garage-like door was open to let natural light illuminate it. It was full of people, most of whom you’d never seen in your life. Everyone from the special effects men, to the boom mic operators, to the assistant director were packed in. Luckily it was a huge area. Angela told you to follow her further, taking you to a separated room down the other end of the stage. This was the room full of actors. God, we’re pretentious. Needing a whole other room to ourselves. Not only did it have the main actors, it had quite a few background actors. Which, admittedly, you were slightly thankful for. If it was just the main actors you’d be the least famous person in the room, and that’s never the best feeling.

Angela let you know that the meeting would be happening very soon. By meeting, she essentially meant the presentation about the film, and how production was going to work and such. And with that flow of information, she left. Leaving you to fend for yourself in a room full of actors.

Who the fuck am I supposed to talk too? Why does everyone seem to know someone already? “Hiya!” A loud, high pitched noise rang behind you. You turned on your heel to see a slightly shorter girl with long, wavy brunette hair.

“Hi?” You returned, not sure if she was mistaking you for someone she knew.

“I’m Allison.” She introduced, extending her hand out.

“Oh, right. I’m (Y/N).” You smiled back, shaking her hand.

“Yea, I’ve actually seen you in quite a few films before. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Wow, I’m really not used to actually being recognised.” You somewhat laughed, feeling some of the tension leave your shoulders.

“You’re playing the lead role in this film though, aren’t you?” She queried.

“Yea, Elizabeth Baker. I’m still not entirely sure how I landed that. Do you mind if I ask who you’re playing?” You responded.

“Of course! I’m playing Donna, which is one of Lizzie’s school friends.” She explained. It was only a very minor role, with maybe one line of dialogue. But she seemed happy enough to be here.

“Oh, well, thanks for introducing yourself. Now I’ll finally know someone on set.” You joked.

“Do you not know the other actors already?”

“Honestly, no. I haven’t really had the chance to meet anyone yet.”

“You should go over and introduce yourself. You’re the lead role! And maybe you could introduce me to some of them.” She laughed, trying to slightly play off the words she just said. Ah, lovely. Someone trying to use me to their advantage.

“Hm.” You simply smiled. “I think I’ll just grab a coffee first, then maybe I’ll socialise.” You added, taking almost no time to venture away from her.

You moved towards the small tables set up with coffee, tea, water and small snacks. You couldn’t help but notice the divide in the room. There was the big-time actors to one side of the room, and the lesser-known, mainly extras to the other side. You also couldn’t help but notice that you stood on the extras side of the room. In the moment you didn’t particularly care. You spent time fiddling away with the sugar packets, not even making a coffee as you thought about your next move. You needed to go introduce yourself, to at least one person you were going to be acting beside. But who were you supposed to choose? I bet Daniel Craig wasn’t this nervous introducing himself. Fuck, I wouldn’t be if I was James Bond.

Without thinking past James Bond, you walked over to the ‘A-list’ actor area. Fuck it, I’m the greatest. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet me. You repeated, entirely trying to sike yourself up. Daniel Craig, Michael Fassbender, Christian Bale, and Rachel Weisz stood in a small group, chatting amongst themselves. Oh, this is definitely the most threatening group. You thought, diving straight in.

“Hi there,” You interrupted, “I just wanted to introduce myself, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You spoke, confidently. Good thing I’m such a good actor.

“Nice to meet you,” Michael responded, his Irish accent thick as he spoke. Daniel, Rachel, and Christian all introduced themselves after, breaking into a conversation about Martin Scorsese.

“I actually haven’t had the chance to meet him. Not properly at least.” You stated, referring back to your audition were you simply spoke in front of him, without him engaging in much conversation.

“He’s great. He’s incredibly intelligent at what he does, but he is really fast paced. He seems to constantly be thinking about the next thing to do.” Daniel began speaking, “But try not to be nervous, he’s pretty good at sensing nerves.” He smirked. Awesome.

“As if the cast wasn’t intimidating enough.” You joked, earning a chuckle from the group. The five of you continued to discuss past acting experiences, and working together on other films and such, with yourself not having much to bring to the conversation. Simply being happy enough to stand with these four god-like actors.

Angela seemingly appeared out of nowhere in front of the crowd of actors, earning a hush amongst the group. She began by thanking everyone for being here, and introducing herself once again as the production manager. She explained the outline of what was going to happen, and when production was due to start, most information of which you’d received in emails earlier. All and all, it was a very quick meeting. I guess it was more about getting to meet everyone. Angela finished her statement and the crowd sparked conversation again, most of the background actors dispersing off. As you were about to say your goodbyes, a smaller, younger gentleman walked up to where you and your newly formed actor friends stood. He handed each of you a small envelope.

“These are from Martin, inviting you to dinner with him tonight. All the information is on the letters. Please RSVP as soon as possible.” He stated, scuttling off to the next group.

“The theatrics,” Christain stated, waving the envelope, “that’s very Scorsese.” He finished.

“Who was that kid?” You asked Michael,

“Would’ve been Martins PA, probably.” He replied, opening his letter. You shrugged and opened yours. The beautiful calligraphy hit you first, each letter individually addressed to each actor. By the looks of it, the main cast of about 12 of you were invited, along with the higher up crew members. It was being held at his property in Hollywood. Well, this should be fun.

“I guess we’ll see you all there.” Daniel stated, earning a cheer of goodbyes from the rest of you as him and Rachel walked off.

“I better head off too,” You smiled, leaving Michael and Christain behind you as you strolled towards the door, continuing to read over your letter. The handwritten note occupied so much of your thought, that you’d forgotten to look where you were walking. All of a sudden, you were stumbling straight into someone's torso. The first sense to hit you was the scent, the only way you could think to describe it was the smell of the wealthy. It was an incredible cologne that you could only imagine A-listers would wear.

“Sorry, love.” His voice sung, the thick British accent very apparent. His larger hands came up to grab your shoulders, steadying your body. His grip was firm against you arms. You could feel the heat of his hands through the thin material of your shirt. You couldn’t help but notice the veins slightly bulging from his tanned forearms. You face moved up so your gaze aligned with his. Brunette curls, light brown eyes, glowing smile, a jawline that looked like it was carved from stone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was walking.” You awkwardly laughed as Toms taller frame stood right in front of you. Do not freak out.

“Don’t worry about it.” He responded, “I was meaning to come meet you earlier, but I got a little caught up. I’m Tom, by the way.” He added, his grin not leaving his face. Yea, I fucking know.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N).” You replied, politely.

“Yea, I’m actually a bit of a fan. I’ve seen some of your work in the past, I’m really glad you got this role.” He added.

“Oh, wow. I thought we we’re going to play it cool, but I’m a huge fan of yours too. I love all the Marvel stuff.” You broke out of your ‘big-time actor’ persona. He chuckled at your comment.

“I see you got an invite, too.” He pointed down at your letter, holding his in his hand too.

“Oh yea. Have you ever done this sort of thing before? Like this whole dinner with the cast thing?”

“Yea, a few times actually. Robert Downey Jr loved doing this stuff for the Marvel cast.” He returned, “with the directors, and the crew and everyone.”

“Right, well I’ve never done all this before. It’s pretty crazy.”

“Yea, I know. The cast of this movie is fucking insane. I’ve never seen so many stars in one room, honestly.” Tom acknowledged. “You seem like you’re holding it all together pretty well.”

“No, I’m just a really good actor, internally I’m absolutely freaking out.” You stated in a joking manner, earning a laugh from Tom. I mean, it’s true.

“That’s great practice for the film them.” He replied, his eyes looking deeper into yours. You could almost feel your knees turning to jelly.

“I’m so sorry to leave you stranded like this, but I really need to get back to my hotel and sort my shit out for this dinner tonight.” You spoke, truthfully.

“Oh, yea. I should probably go do the same. I guess I’ll see you there.”

“Yes, you will. It was really nice to meet you, Tom.” You expressed, your hand moving to rest against his bicep as you cocked your head with a smile. He returned the good-bye and you waltzed out of the stage. Your heart was pumping in your throat and you had to bite down on your lip to suppress your awfully huge grin. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad.

Taglist!

@averyfosterthoughts​ @loxbbg​ @musicandbokkslovingweirdo​ @yourwonderbelle​ @iamanerdnot @kayceeeveeee​ @autty0314​ @poorlittlesuperstar​ @rebeccamckirgan99​ @xherosxvillainsx​ @rachaeldonnaspiteri1​ @hollands-osterfield​ @shambhavi-sethi​ @a-phan-of-youtube​ @theobssessiveweirdo​

A line through your name means it wouldn't let me tag you!

[marvelhero-fics]

Is there any sneak peak for next chapter of silent britain? Thanks!!

Sorry, there probably won't be sneak peaks, I’ll just be uploading full chapters when I get to it, at the moment the next chapter is due for the 8th. Thanks for being interested though!

[marvelhero-fics]

Silent Britain Masterlist

Summary: You’re pretty new to Hollywood, finally getting a role in a blockbuster Martin Scorsese film, working alongside some of the biggest actors in the game. To your surprise, Tom Holland is playing your love interest in the high-stakes British Gangster film. Eventually, you and Tom become love interests outside the film, but is it too difficult to keep a relationship in all your new found success? Or will you and Tom find your happy ever after?

A/N: So this is probably going to be a long one!! I really hope you guys enjoy!!

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

[marvelhero-fics]

Silent Britain

Series - Prologue

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader 

Summary: You and Tom are working as love interests in a new Scorsese film, essentially leading to be love interests in real life

A/N: Sorry, it’s been a hot minute since I've posted! Anyway, this is basically going to be a whole series. I have no idea how many parts it’ll be, and I’ll be updating at least every two weeks (but I’ll aim to update it weekly!) I thought it was kind of a fun idea so essentially in the film Tom plays a bad-boy mob members son, while the reader plays the opposing mob members daughter. Please enjoy! (This chapter is a bit of a slow-burn, but it’s essentially just setting up the plot and everything!) 

Also, all the italics in this story are the readers thoughts!

Word Count: 1,500

Silent Britain Masterlist || Full Masterlist 

Prologue

The uncomfortably loud alarm buzzed through your tired mind. A glance to your left told you it was 7:00 am. Time to get up. One arm reached out to turn your alarm off, while the other went to wipe your eyes as they opened sluggishly, adjusting to the illumination in your bedroom that crept through the blinds. Wasting no time, you moved your body from your large bed and stumbled your way to the kitchen. The house was quiet, no music playing, no TV’s on, signalling to you that your roommate/best friend, Evie, hadn’t woken up yet.

The thick script left on the dining table caught your attention. It was for an upcoming, untitled Nolan film. You’d been asked to read the script to audition, however you only made it about half-way through it last night. Looks like thats on today’s agenda.

Acting was your absolute passion. You’d been lucky enough to start your acting career about 4 years ago, acting in 2-3 bigger films, every-so-often working alongside a well known celebrity. Working alongside Robert Pattinson in dramatic indie film was pretty cool, considering you’d grown up around all the Twilight hype. Playing Brad Pitt’s daughter in another film was also a big moment in your career. Not to mention your recent role in the Emmy award winning show Big Little Lies really helping define who you were as an actress. Ever since then you’d been asked to audition for quite a few more roles. Shockingly, it actually took a bit of a turn on you. People recognised you more often, which meant it was harder to leave the house. It also meant you started comparing yourself to other actors your age, to which you never thought you’d live up too. Being rich and famous really wasn’t all it was cut out to be.

While mindlessly making breakfast, your phone began buzzing on the hard, marble bench top. It was your agent, Melissa.

“Hey, Mel.” You quickly answered,

“Morning, (Y/N), how’re you doing?” Her thick American accent sung through the phone. Melissa was from California. You weren’t, you were born and bred in England, and you’d continued living just outside of London throughout your career. It was just much easier having an agent closer to the action of Hollywood.

“Good, I’m a little tired, it’s like seven AM over here.” You responded,

“Well it’s 11 at night over here, but I’ve just received some fantastic news and I couldn’t wait to tell you.”

“You’ve got my attention.” You chuckled slightly, leaning down to rest on the kitchen bench, ready to intently listen to whatever Melissa had to say.

“You remember that Scorsese film you auditioned for a while back, Silent Britain?”

Oh my god. “Yea, of course I remember, what about it?” Your palms became clammy and your voice shook slightly.

“You’ve been offered the role! You’re playing Elizabeth Baker!”

Your head immediately fell to your hands. You were just unbelievably over-joyed, you didn’t even know what to say. This would undoubtedly be your biggest role to date. “Mel, oh my god, this is such huge news, I really didn’t think I’d get it. This is so, so, so incredible.” You stood and began pacing the kitchen.

“It gets even better, guess who else is already signed on?”

“Who?”

“Tom Hardy is playing your father, Anthony Hopkins is playing your grandfather,” Your jaw had already hit the floor at this point, “Chrisitan Bale is also signed on, and Jude Law’s set to play one of the detectives.”

“Melissa, holy fuck.” You paused, “holy fuck. This- that’s so many actors, incredible actors-”

“And there’s plenty more to be signed on. So I’m assuming you’d like the role?”

“Of course I’d like the role!”

“I’m sending through all the paper-work and details for you to flick through, I’ll also mail over a script ASAP so you can go through the whole thing. You’ll have to fly out here in about 2 weeks for the initial meet up with Martin and the cast, so I’ll book that in now, and we can work out the rest of the details when you’re here, how’s that sound?” Melissa explained quickly,

“Yea, yea that sounds perfect, when’s filming set to start?”

“It says mid-June, which is in two months, if all the actors have been accounted for by that time.”

“Okay, I’ll get all my shit sorted out and I’ll see you in two weeks! Thanks so much Mel.”

And with that, the two of you hung up. Leaving you alone with your thoughts. A fucking Gangster Scorsese film. It doesn’t get better than that. That’s peak-of-the-career shit right there. Everything you did the rest of that day was purely in order to be organised for your flight. You hadn’t been this excited since you landed the role of Reece Witherspoon’s daughter in Big Little Lies. After screaming in pure bliss with Evie about the news, you went to your nearest shopping centre to get any possible supplies you may need. Shampoo, conditioner, dry shampoo, toothpaste, a power board, a charging cable, new comfortable clothes, not that you really needed anymore, new nicer clothes, not that you fucking needed anymore, the list went on. Evie even came with you, as if your impulse control wasn’t already low, Evie made it plumet, suggesting you needed every second thing she laid her eyes on. You even bought a notepad with the Taxi Driver movie poster on the cover because Scorsese directed that too, and it’ll be funny incase I ever need to take notes.

You shut the boot of your car, hopping into the driver's seat next to where Evie sat comfortably in the passenger’s seat.

“So who else is in the film? Besides Venom, Hannibal Lecter, Batman, and John Watson.” Evie smirked at her own joke,

“Ha ha. Very funny.” You stated, pulling out of the car park. “That’s all I know about at the moment, here” you passed her your phone, “check my emails, I might’ve gotten an update.” Evie took the phone from your hands and held it to your face to unlock it.

“Melissa Bradd sent another email, with attached file, more details…” Evie muttered, mainly to herself as she opened the document. “Hmm, Anthony Hopkins, Tom Hardy, you-” Evie gasped heavily.

“What, what is it?” You quickly interjected.

“I’m going to shit my pants, I’m gonna actually die right here, right now-”

“Evie, what the fuck!? What is it?!” You almost wanted to pull over the car.

“Timothee Chalamet is playing Joseph Baker, your brother!” She practically shrieked. Christ. Obviously you adored Timothee’s work, he was incredible and so devoted, but Evie absolutely adored him, for a long time now.

“Oh my god,” you uttered, just above a whisper. Reacting to not only Evies reaction, but also that another big name was going to be on screen beside you. “Anyone else?”

“It doesn’t even fucking matter who else is in it!” Evie sung, flailing her arms in the air.

“Evie, who else is in it!” You repeated, feeling a little on edge. Her gaze returned back to the phone screen, her excitement still clearly coursing through her veins.

“So far, Finn Wolfhard is set to play your younger brother, and Michael Fassbender and Christian bale are signed on as your uncles,” She read.

It was at this moment, your hands really started shaking. You tried gripping the wheel as tightly as you could, but it honestly felt like most of the blood in your body was vanishing, you didn’t seem to have control over much of anything, especially not your breathing. Evie looked over at you.

“Hey, (Y/N/N), you okay? You’re kind of looking a bit pale.” She spoke quietly,

“That’s a lot of big actors, Evie.” You responded, your mouth entirely dry.

“Yea, but you’re a big actor too, you know. You’ve been in some big films!” She lightly tried to reassure you.

“Eve, I’ve been a background character in like 3 big films.” You peered over to her, quickly returning your glare back to the road.

“You’re in Big Little Lies, that’s a big show.”

“I’m a daughter, I’m not a main character at all. This movie, I’m a fucking huge character in this movie. This movie practically fucking revolves around me, Tom Hardy, and Hopkins.” Your voice elevated as you spoke.

“Let’s just get home, and then we can talk it all through.” Evie said calmly, clearly not paying much mind to what you’d just said. You nodded in response. And, as if on cue, your phone chimed.

“What was it?” As you asked, Evie began scrolling through your phone.

“Another email from Melissa.”

“And?...”

“A couple more actors signed on.”

“And?...” Your head was far too close to exploding.

“Well, Rachel Weisz is playing your mum, and Daniel Craig is another uncle,” Evie was speaking softly, “Idris Elba is a detective, and- uhm- Tom Holland is your love interest…”

And there goes the explosion. “I need to pull over. I’m about to have a stroke.”

[spideycentral]

Behind the scenes look at Spider-Man: Far From Home

[marvelhero-fics]

I’m not sure if I asked this before but I don’t think so do you have a masterlist by any chance

https://marvelhero-fics.tumblr.com/post/183045797140/masterlist

Hope this link works! Also sorry I answered so late!!

[marvelhero-fics]

Cool, cool, cool.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter and yourself finally figure out your feelings towards each other, in the coolest way possible. 

A/N: I’m sorry I’ve been absent for a hot minute, I've just been crazy busy! But I’m back and writing for a bit :)

Word Count: 2,561

“No. I stand by my point. Darth Vader would win!” Ned exclaimed.

“No! You’re wrong! Goku would absolutely beat Vader!” You retorted, extended your arms out in exaggeration. Peter simply laughed as you bickered. The three of you dodged your way out of the crowded halls of Midtown Tech.

“Anakin was going to be one of the most powerful Jedi ever! That means Vader is probably the most powerful character-“

“Goku was a Super Saiyan!” You swiftly interrupted.

The warm afternoon New York breeze hit you as the three of you made it out the front doors. The mix of smog from the many taxis and pollen from the new spring trees danced together. You’d always complained about how much you hated Manhattan, but you had to admit, it was home.

“You’re wrong.” Ned stated, matter-of-factly.

“Unbelievable. We’re continuing this tomorrow Leeds!” You replied.

“Bye dude.” Peter simply smiled over at his best friend. Ned warmly fairwelled Peter, and with the quick completion of their handshake, Ned waltzed off. Peter and yourself began making your way to the train station.

In the least creepy way possible, Peter loved watching you. He watched as your lightly curled hair bounced around your shoulders as you walked. He watched the warm sunlight hit your soft cheekbones, prominating all your best features. He watched as your old, warn down Chucks scuffed along the sidewalk as you absentmindedly kicked loose rocks.

“So? Who would win?” You beamed, looking up at your best friend.

“Hmm?” He shook his head slightly, bringing his dreamy mind back to reality.

“Darth Vader or Goku?! C’mon Pete, why’re you being all spacey?” You laughed, pushing a lock of hair behind your pierced ear.

“I didn’t wanna say it at the time, but Ned’s probably right-“

“Unbelievable!” You whined. “You two obviously know nothing! We’re gonna have to touch up on your Dragon Ball Z, Parker.” Your arm extended out to jokingly nudge him. He turned his attention to your denim jacket. Hundreds of different patches scrapily sewn onto it. God, you were just so cool, Peter thought. You were always so authentically yourself, completely and happily oblivious to what others thought.

“Yea sure, when you watch the Prequels I’ll watch the rest of Dragon Ball Z.” Peter chuckled. You simply shook your head.

“You and Ned always go on about how not great those movies are, why would I bother watching them? And plus, what does that have to do with Darth Vader anyway?” You replied, Peters contagious grin rubbing off on you.

“It’s all about Anakin! It’s his whole back story! What are you talking about!?” Peter said, almost offended.

“Ohh...” you paused, “that makes sense.”

“You’re unbelievable, (Y/L/N).”

It had been years now. Years of you and Peter being besties. Your dad was really close with Richard and Ben, Peters dad and uncle. So you’d been family friends for a long time. Your mum would tell you that you always said you were going to marry Peter when you were younger because he could burp the whole alphabet! It was even better when she brought it up at the dinner table, while Peter was right there. You drifted a bit when Peter went through everything with his parents. With moving away to be with his aunt and uncle and all. You finally reconnected with him in High School. It had been like the two of you never left each other. MJ and Ned constantly mocked the pair of you for being ‘insperable’. But you two just really liked each other’s company! Or that’s at least what you told yourselves to fight off the awkward post-puberty sexual tension.

The train was crowded, as per usual. You shuffled your way through the many bodies, finding a comfortable spot for both you and Peter. His arm raised to hold the bar above him, steadying himself as the train began to move. You, however, resumed your comfortable spot of holding Peter’s other arm to steady yourself. The bar was awkwardly high for your shorter frame, and Peter obviously wasn’t complaining. Every so often your fingers would move down to intertwine with his, which was- nice. But you two never talked about it, mainly in fear of ruining the moment.

You stuck one of the AirPods in Peters ear, sticking your other one in your own ear before pressing shuffle. Hooked On A Feeling by Blue Swede began flowing through your ears. His gaze immediately met yours with a grin. God, you were so cool.

The influx of more persons on the train drove your body closer to Peter. The warmth of your body radiating on him, your head practically resting on his broad shoulder. Of course, he wasn’t complaining. Ever since the bite, his senses were always dialed up to eleven, it gave him raging migraines for the longest amount of time, and of course you were the first to notice when something was off with Peter. Straight after Ned found out, Peter told you what happened, and as per usual, you played it cool. After all, your main concern was Peter, not Spider-Man. After long days of heightened senses and skull-breaking headaches, you’d massage his temples for hours on end, softly speaking to him about anything to relax him. You were the one thing that dialled those senses back down to one for Peter. And, God, he loved you for it.

In usual routine, Peter and yourself stopped at the Deli on the way to Peters house. Today you were heading over to his to do your AP bio assignments together. Well, that’s what you told each other. Any excuse to be able to hang out.

“Mr and Mrs Parker!” Mr Delmar greeted the two of you in his usual fashion. You both grinned, greeting him back. The first time he did this, Peter turned into a blushing, blubbering mess. But after about the 6th time, it was purely a habit. “The usual?”

“Yes please,” Peter replied, putting two crumpled 5’s down on the counter.

“Hey Murph.” You swiftly picked up the fluffy cat, holding it in your arms as it purred softly.

“He doesn’t let anyone else pick him up like that, you know!? He’s so grumpy with everyone else, but he loves you, (Y/N).” Mr Delmar explained, laughing slightly about his ‘mean old cat’, as he put it.

Your sandwiches were made within minutes. You kindly thanked Mr Delmar and walked off to Peters apartment. Mr Delmar’s deli really did make the best sandwiches in Queens, but 4:00 PM was such a strange time to each an entire sub, which meant you almost never finished your sandwich. Luckily, Peter’s appetite was constantly through the roof. He would always finish your food for you, you’d honestly never seen someone who could eat so much. Apparently it was another one of the side-effects of the Spidey powers. 

Peter unlocked the apartment building doors and the two of you walked up to his level, laughing and chatting the whole way. Conversation always flowed with Peter and yourself. It was never really that awkward, and it never had to be small talk. You two would always find yourself talking about films, physics, space, existentialism. Just all the usuals. 

The pair of you waltzed into Peter’s apartment. Peter called out a loud ‘hey May!’, to which she came out of the kitchen to greet the two of you. 

“Oh, hey (Y/N),” she smiled warmly, “are you staying for dinner, honey?” 

“Uhm,” you quickly looked up at Peter,

“Yea, of course she is.” He responded for you,

“If it’s not too much trouble!” You quickly added, 

“No it’s absolutely fine! We’re getting Chinese.” May explained, getting cut short of the conversation as Peter dragged you off to his room. 

Being the gentleman he was, he opened the door for you, letting you walk through first, and closed it behind himself. He was quick to throw his bag to the ground as make his way to his old, wooden desk. You softly sat on the bottom bunk of his bed, shuffling back slightly so your back was resting against the wall. You pulled your laptop out of your bag and opened up your assignment. Peter did the same.

An hour of studying and typing and studying and typing, and only biology related chat had passed. “Peter...” You whined. “I hate this, I hate stupid action potentials, and stupid neurons, and stupid synaptic junctions.” You continued, throwing your head back in frustration with a thud to the drywall behind you. He swivelled around in his chair, his gaze finding yours as your head lifted above your shoulders again. You pouted and batted your eyelids.

“I know, I hate it too. But it’s not really optional.” He replied. He was so studious. Which you loved, and envied. But times like these you wish he would just whip out his old, dusty Nintendo 64 and play games with you all night.

Peter wasn’t going to be that easy to get through too. You shoved your laptop off your lap, and waltzed over to where Peter was. His eyes simply followed your frame as you moved. Your body stationed next to him, and turned his chair so he was facing his desk once again, meaning you were stood behind his back. Your warm fingers ran through his brunette hair before resting on his temples. You applied just enough pressure while circling them against his skin. A loud, relieving sigh dripped from his mouth.

“You’re tense.” You whispered,

“When am I not?” He retorted, flashing a smirk.

“You weren’t before you were Spider-Man.” You responded, your voice still low but blunt.

His eyes opened, and his hands softly grabbed yours. He turned his chair to face you, your smaller hands still encapsulated in his.

“Do you not like the fact that I’m now everybody’s friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man?” He questioned, his large brown eyes staring deeply.

“No. It’s not that I don’t like it, you know I don’t have a problem with it. I just... I don’t like that it makes you like... like this.” You shrugged.

“Like what?” His voice was seemingly lower, he wasn’t necessarily whispering, but his voice was husk.

“Tense. You’re always on-edge, you’re always so stiff.” Guess it was honesty hour.

“Maybe- maybe you could help me- be less tense.” He replied, his classic Peter-style nervousness creeping through his broken sentence.

“I’m trying, I thought the head massages helped?”

“Yea- right- yep. They do help, a lot.” He stammered. “I was just- I was thinking maybe, something else?” Peter spoke. His hands had left yours and moved down to your waist, strangely enough, it wasn’t the first time they’d been there, so it wasn’t entirely weird to you.

“What’d you have in mind?” You asked, almost innocently. There was a lot of things you had wished about doing with Peter. A lot of ways you wanted to help him. You just never knew how to initate any of it. And quite frankly, you didn’t know if he felt the same.

In a sudden rush of arousal, Peter pulled you forward and you stumbled slightly.  His hands asserted themselves on your upper thighs and pulled you up so they sat on either side of his lap. Without entirely realising what was happening, you were straddling him. God, he was strong. Your faces were merely inches apart. A deep rosey blush covered your cheeks and your heart pounded against your ribs. The worst part was knowing Peter could hear how fast it was beating with his heightened senses. He could obviously tell how nervous you were. 

You were nervous, but comfortable. Strangely enough, this felt, comfortable. Your hands had wrapped themselves behind his neck, twirling into the soft hair at the back of his head. If there was going to be any time to kiss Peter Parker, this was definitely it. 

A few sharp breaths escaped both of your mouths as your eyes gazed into each others. You both stared in a sort of ‘is this really happening?’ moment. And then, you kissed him. 

Peter and your lips passionately locked together. Your raspberry lip balm now sticky against both of your mouths as your tongues finally met in the middle. This was your first kiss, and what you knew of your best friend, it was his first kiss too. In the strangest way possible, it almost felt like a flower was blooming deep in your stomach. It was the strangest, most pleasant feeling you’d had. The intensity grew gradually. The nerve endings in your skin feeling every small touch. Maybe this was how Peter felt all the time? Every so often, your head would fall away from his slightly, and every time he would pull your body back, aching for your lips to be close once again. 

That's when you felt him growing beneath you. You’d never sat on a boys lap like this. And in all honesty, you didn't realise it could grow that quick. Your fingers grasped his brunette hair and pulled his head back gently as you drew your face away too. 

You bit down on your bottom lip and grinned. He just looked back at you with wide eyes, his pupils almost entirely encapsulating his iris’. 

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” You blurted out, almost too quickly.

“I mean, neither have I.” He shrugged.

“That was good? Right?” You shot back.

“Well,” he glimpsed down, looking at the bulge against the zipper of his worn jeans, “yea.”

You looked at each other once again. Peter’s large hands gripped tightly against your ass checks, firmly holding you against his lap still. Your hands still lightly stroking against the back of his head. Both of you silently wondering what to do about Peter’s situation. 

In a blink, Peter’s eyes unfocused from your face, and his head snapped around. “Get up.” He flashed. 

“Wha?-” 

There was a loud knock at the door, and just as May let herself in, Peter had hoisted you off his lap. As May entered the room, Peter sat awkwardly in his desk chair, his legs crossed over each other. And you stood just next to him, clearly unsure of why you stood there. 

May glanced for a moment at the situation, realising she had probably walked in at the wrong time. “Uhm, I was thinking we could go down and get dinner now?”

You could practically feel Peter’s eyes roll. 

“Sounds good. I’m starving!” You smiled at May, trying to loosen the tension. 

“Cool! Grab your coat.” May stated, and with that she waltzed out again. 

Peter turned the chair towards you and was about to groan before you caught his lips again. The kiss wasn't as passionate as the first, but it was nice. It was comfortable. You never thought it would feel this heavenly kissing Peter, but, God, it did. 

You pulled away just as fast as you’d initiated it. 

“We should probably talk about... this?” you motioned in the space between the two of you.

“Yea.”

“I- I obviously like you.” You stated. The only reason you stated it so confidently was because of how confidently Peter had kissed you back.

“Well, I obviously like you too.” The corners of his mouth curving upwards, flashing his gorgeous, straight smile.

“Cool.” You nodded, a grin also taking form over your mouth.

“Cool.”

[pedrc-pascal-archived]

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) | Avengers: Endgame (2019)

[wadey-wilson]

Is this the first time you lost a soldier? We are not soldiers.

[horruer-deactivated20250508]

Fury: the world needs a new iron man

Peter:

[incorrectbuckoarchive]

[pedro-reed]

The Marvel Cinematic Universe through the years