Marvel Self-Inserts

I write Marvel Fanfics, specifically reader self-insert! Submissions are currently closed but feel free to yap in my inbox or just have a browse :)

[marvelselfinserts]

About Marvel Self Inserts

🎀 Welcome to my page 🎀 If you're new here, I write Marvel FanFiction - specifically reader self inserts!

I've decided to remain fairly anonymous on here 🕵🏻‍♀️ My pronouns are she/her, I'm 29 years old, and happy to be called author or writer ❤️ I'm also British and live in England so if you catch me tripping on any Americanisms, that's why!

🌸 Any FanFic's marked 'x Reader' denotes a gender neutral adult reader - any other type of reader will be specified 🌸

❌ Submissions are currently CLOSED - if you have any questions please check my FAQ ❌

🌺 Link to my masterlist can be found here 🌺

Feel free to message me if you have any questions about anything - or to just yap! I do love a good yap so don't be afraid to come into my inbox for a rant or anything else that you fancy 😘

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🖼️ Header Credit: @piratanjo

[marvelselfinserts]

I really like everything going on for second best so far!! I also want an angsty part but idk if this will go with the person who had an angsty request. Maybe while y/n is in the rain waiting for Wanda and Natasha, she actually gets kidnapped by Agatha. Natasha and Wanda aren’t able to find her for several weeks. But Agatha turns out to be a better mother than Wanda and y/n calls Agatha ‘mommy’. If Natasha and Wanda end up finding y/n, maybe y/n even tells Wanda that Agatha was better?

Second Best: Agatha All Along Edition

Mom!ScarletWidow & Agatha Harkness & Child!Fem!Reader Link to Part One [x], Part Two [x], Alt Part Two [x], Multiverse Ending [x] and Found Runaway Ending [x] [A/N] Thank you so much for the request sweetie, hope you enjoy this one 😘

Agatha knows that she’s not a good person. Good people don’t murder others to steal their powers. Her Nicky had been good though. How a child born to Agatha could be so good she had no idea. Whenever Agatha did something bad she couldn’t help thinking about how Nicky would be disappointed in her. It didn’t stop her completely but it did make her feel guilty, something she dragged around like the chains Jacob Marley wore in ‘A Christmas Carol’. Stupid book.

Agatha had made a point of never harming children. If any pregnant woman or one with a young child tried to join her ‘covens’ she would always turn them away. Even someone like Agatha had a moral code to an extent. That’s why she does pause when she finds out when she realises she can use you to get to Wanda Maximoff. Agatha wouldn’t have even known what you looked like if that paparazzi hadn’t snapped a photo of Wanda whilst she was pregnant, holding onto your hand as you walked alongside her. Tony was usually on it with keeping photos of Avengers kids out of the papers, but that was one that had slipped through the cracks apparently.

It surprises Agatha how much the sight of you crying in the rain, calling out pitifully for your Moms’ affects her. You’ve taken shelter in a bus stop but the rain has already plastered your hair and clothes to your skin, and you’re shivering, your thin cardigan not providing you any warmth. The teddy bear you’re clutching in your arms is also sodden but you’re still clinging to it like your life depends on it. Something about it makes Agatha pause and for a moment she just watches you. Time begins to slip by but no one comes, and your cries grow more distressed as the wind howls through the bus shelter.

Eventually she pulls her hood up and crosses the street, squatting down in front of you. You’re sat on the floor now, clutching your bear tightly in your arms, your heavy backpack on the ground next to you. “Are you lost?” Agatha asks softly.

You look at her with wide, fearful eyes and nod, holding your bear even tighter. Agatha clears her throat. It’s been a while since she’s interacted with a child, especially one as young as you. You look about Nicky’s age when he’d- She tries her best to smile, gesturing to the bear in your arms, “What’s his name?”

For a moment you just stare at her with wide eyes before finally replying in a tiny voice, “Her. Rosie.”

“Well, that’s a pretty name,” Agatha says. “Looks like she’s pretty cold and wet. Maybe she’d like to come home with me. We could have a hot chocolate.”

You hesitate, clearly tempted by her offer. Your stomach rumbles and you’re shivering, desperate to not be lost in the rain anymore. Eventually you pipe up in that same tiny voice, “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

“Well, I’m not a stranger. I know your Mom. In fact, she sent me to pick you up.”

You peer at her, your eyes wide and still hesitant. “Really?”

“Sure. Look, me and your Mom are practically sisters.” Your eyes are wide as Agatha shows you her powers, the purple energy shifting between her fingers, just the way Wanda’s does. “See, we’re one in the same. Come on, you don’t wanna stay out here, do you? You’ll catch a cold and your Mom will be furious with me.”

Seemingly satisfied that she must be who she says she is you stand up. Agatha picks you up, glancing at your bag before deciding to leave that behind. You don’t ask for it and you seem happy enough with just your teddy bear. As she carries you away you don’t protest though you do ask quietly, “What’s your name?”

“It’s Agatha,” She tells you. “Agatha Harkness. Let’s get you somewhere warm and dry, huh? You’re safe now. I promise.”

Agatha watches as you sit at her table, a blanket draped around your shoulders, your wet hair now wrapped in a towel, whilst you sip hot chocolate from her least favourite mug. Well, Agatha doesn’t know you well – what if you break it? You’re a strangely careful child though, holding the mug with both of your hands, taking small, slow sips. Rosie is perched in front of the fireplace, and Agatha’s reassured you she’s a safe enough distance away to dry off whilst not catching fire.

“When is Mommy coming to get me?”

“Not sure,” Agatha replies. “You might have to spend the night here.” You look a little nervous and she leans over to tickle under your chin, “Don’t look like that, it’ll be fun.”

“But I don’t have my pyjamas or my toothbrush-”

“I have spares. You’ll have everything you need.” Agatha gives you a small smile, “And Rosie too, don’t worry.”

You can’t help giggling at that, taking a bite out of the cookie Agatha had put out for you. Although Agatha hadn’t intended to hurt you at any point, she had intended to send a photo to Wanda, to let her know you were here, that she now had the upper hand. As she gazes at you, Agatha begins to wonder what she even wants from Wanda. It had been years since she’d had a run in with Wanda Maximoff. When was the last time Agatha was truly happy?

When she was with Nicky, Agatha supposes. Everyone says those early years go by quickly but Agatha feels like she blinked and Nicky was suddenly stolen from her. It wasn’t fair. Why did Maximoff get two children? One of which she apparently couldn’t even be bothered to keep an eye on. You’d gone home with Agatha easily enough; anyone else could’ve taken advantage of you. Her heart hurts as you take another small sip of your hot chocolate, apparently accepting quietly that your Moms’ aren’t coming for you tonight.

“What were you doing today?” Agatha asks. “You were running away?”

You look at her with big, worried eyes, “I wanted to go to the compound to see Uncle Tony.”

“Why didn’t you ask your Moms’ to take you?”

“They’re too busy with Scarlett,” You mumble grumpily. “They love her more than me because she grew in Mommy’s belly.”

Agatha raises her eye-brows. It had never been mentioned in the press that you were adopted, and she’d always assumed you’d been the creation of sperm donor as Scarlett had been. It hadn’t even crossed Agatha’s mind that Wanda hadn’t carried you herself. “I see. So what, you were going to go and live at the compound?”

“I don’t know,” You say, taking another bite of your cookie. “I just wanted to see Uncle Tony.”

“You know, I had a little boy once,” Agatha suddenly says. “He was about your age.”

“Do you have a photo of him?”

“Oh… No, he- He was a little boy in a time before photos.”

You nod thoughtfully – your Mama doesn’t have any photos of herself as a little girl either. She says Grandma Melina has some but you’ve never seen them. “What happened to him?”

“He- He’s not with me anymore.”

You finish your cookie and ponder her words for a moment, “I’m not with my birth Mommy anymore either. She couldn’t look after me so I got adopted.”

Agatha nods, watching as you take the final sip of your hot chocolate. “It’s getting late,” She says. “Are you hungry for anything else?” You shake your head and Agatha nods. “I guess I should set you up somewhere to sleep.”

There’s a room in Agatha’s house that she’d set aside as ‘Nicky’s room. Stupid really, given Nicky’s never set foot in the house but she hadn’t been able to help herself. For a moment she considers setting up the couch for you but then she sees the way you’re looking up at her with those big, sleepy eyes and she realises that you need a proper bed. Before she has chance to over think, she bends down and lifts you up, cradling you in her arms. You yawn and point wordlessly to your teddy bear so she bends down again, placing the still slightly damp bear into your arms. You lean your head against her shoulder, holding Rosie in one arm and putting your thumb in your mouth.

For a long moment Agatha just holds you in her arms and you let her. It’s been weeks since your Moms’ held you like this and it’s nice to feel cared for. There’s something familiar and comforting about her and Agatha brushes her lips gently against your forehead as you yawn. Agatha rocks you gently in her arms, feeling comforted herself. She hasn’t held a child like this since Nicky. She hasn’t held a child at all in fact since Nicky. It feels… Nice. Familiar.

As the weeks go by Agatha notices that with each day you ask less and less about your Moms’. On the first morning Agatha had made you pancakes, and you’d asked her over breakfast when you were going home. You’d asked her whilst you were both doing a jigsaw puzzle, whilst you had lunch, whilst you were drawing, whilst you were playing hide and seek, during dinner and as she was tucking you into bed. By the end of the first week you only asked her a couple of times, then once a day. For the past week, you hadn’t asked at all. Not once had you asked if you could speak to your Moms’ on the phone or question why they weren’t there.

Perhaps it was because the two of you were too busy having fun. Agatha had cut your hair in the hopes less people would recognise you and she’d thrown herself into being a Mom. This wasn’t supposed to happen but it just… Had. Agatha lost interest in Wanda and focused all her attention on you. For the first time in hundreds of years, life felt worth living again.

When you’d been there for three months Agatha finally suggested that you redecorate your room, a subtle way of letting you know that you were here to stay. It was a decision she’d struggled with, not wanting to feel like she was replacing Nicky but… Well, you were here. It had never been Nicky’s room, not really. You’d met her suggestion with complete enthusiasm, and you and Agatha laughed together as you repainted your room in your favourite colour. She’d taken you to Bed, Bath & Beyond, letting you pick out new curtains and bed sheets. Agatha had even offered to get you a new teddy bear but you’d shaken your head, clearly loyal to Rosie.

With every day that passed, Agatha realised she was starting to love you. Being a Mom was her purpose, she was realising. And you… Well, you were wonderful. The sweetest, most interesting little girl that Agatha had ever met. It wasn’t just being a Mom that Agatha loved; it was being your Mom. If you were crying and begging to go home, Agatha is fairly sure she would take you back but you weren’t. You seemed settled, you seemed… Like you loved her too.

Agatha had gotten into the habit of teaching you at home, and was helping you to learn how to write the alphabet. You would’ve started school in the Fall but it’s not like Agatha can register you anywhere. “Show me how you write an ‘A’,” Agatha prompts.

You carefully write the letter, looking up for her approval, “A for Agatha!”

“That’s right, A for Agatha, well done. You’re so clever.” Agatha ruffles your hair. “My clever girl.”

You giggle, “Can I have a cookie please?”

“If you can write down as much of the alphabet as you can remember for me then maybe I’ll consider it.” Agatha looks up at the sound of a knock on the door and she leans over to press a kiss to your forehead. “Wait here.”

Agatha has barely opened the door when she’s suddenly thrown across the room in a whirl of red, crashing to the floor with a groan. You scream, jumping up from the table, “Agatha-”

“Y/N!”

A familiar voice calls your name and in storm Natasha and Wanda, along with Nick Fury and Steve Rogers. Natasha lifts you up into her arms, pressing kiss after kiss to your face, “Oh Y/N, you’re okay, you’re okay, thank God, my baby-”

You squirm in her hold, trying to get down. Agatha is still crumpled on the floor and you sob loudly, reaching your arms out for her. Wanda crosses the room, blocking your view of Agatha as she cups your cheek with her hand, “Oh Sweetie, thank God you’re okay-”

“Put me down!”

“Hey, hey,” Natasha says, holding you tighter. “Baby, it’s us; it’s your Mom’s-”

“Agatha’s my Mommy!” You sob loudly, trying to reach around Wanda for Agatha. “I want Mommy!”

“Hey, I’m your Mommy,” Wanda says desperately. “Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been? You’ve been missing for months, we thought- God, baby, we thought-”

Agatha stands up slowly from the floor, feeling her heart plummet to her stomach. They’d thought you were dead. Regardless of Agatha’s anger towards the two women for how they’d treated you, how they’d neglected you, it hits her that she’d let two Mother’s think their daughter was dead. Both of them look… Awful. They’ve lost weight and there are dark circles beneath their eyes from lack of sleep. Their faces are drawn and pale, both of them almost weak with relief to have you back.

But all you can do is sob and scream for Agatha.

“We’re going to get you home,” Natasha says, holding you firmly in her arms. “Everything’s going to be okay, we promise, we promise…”

“Please, let me at least say goodbye,” Agatha says desperately, taking a step forward.

Wanda turns around, her eyes absolutely blazing, her powers flaring angrily between her fingers, “You stay away from our daughter. What did you do to her?”

Agatha opens and closes her mouth as Nick Fury comes forward, handcuffing her. It would be easy to resist. To use the remaining power she has to try and escape but what would be the point? Where would she go and what would she even do? You’d been her entire world for the past few months and without you, well…

What had she done to you? She’d loved you. Loved you almost as much as she’d loved her Nicky all those years ago. Loved you like you were her own. And now she was losing you. It wasn’t fair – she couldn’t even argue. Natasha and Wanda were your Mom’s, the one’s with the paperwork, the one’s with the legal rights. Agatha had been a temporary fill-in.

“Mommy!” You sob loudly as Natasha tries her best to rock you in her arms, to reassure you, to comfort you. Tears are streaming down Natasha’s cheeks, joy and relief to be reunited with her beloved little girl. But four months is a long time in a child’s life and you’d accepted Agatha as your Mom. Natasha’s arms felt foreign and strange now, and you reach out for Agatha again, whining desperately.

“I’m your Mommy,” Wanda says tearfully as she turns back to you, running her fingers gently over your cheek. “I’m your Mommy, and I’m here now. We never stopped searching for you our precious baby-”

You scream as Agatha is lead out of the house and shoved into the back of a car. Agatha just stares forward, trying her best not to listen to your cries, her heart shattering. She closes her eyes, trying her best to keep her own tears at bay.

“Agatha’s my Mommy!” You cry as Wanda takes you into her own arms. “Want Agatha!”

“Baby, please-”

“She was a better Mommy than you!” You shout at the top of your voice. “I want my Mommy!”

“Listen, listen, please baby,” Wanda says. “I know things got crazy with Scarlett, we know we messed up, we know we did. We don’t blame you for running away but we thought- We’ve missed you like crazy, you’re so precious to us. You’re our little girl. Ours. It’s time to take you home.”

You sob harder and Wanda and Natasha exchange a helpless glance, Wanda pressing a reassuring kiss to your forehead as you continue to cry. “Let’s just get her home,” Natasha says quietly. “The sooner we get her settled again, the better.”

They carry you out to their car, Wanda’s heart cracking every time you cry out and struggle in her arms. You were supposed to be her little girl. Her special big girl. Where had it gone so wrong? How could you be calling Agatha your Mommy? Wanda’s not sure but she’s going to do everything she can to get you settled back home. You’re her little girl. Her baby.

[marvelselfinserts]

Hi! Just wanna say I’m very proud of how far you are getting in your backlog of story requests. You’re doing a great job. Remember, if you feel burnt out just take your time. Stay hydrated and rest your brain. (also it amuses me when I’m reading your fics and something like “cross” or “innit” is said cause I then remember your British lol)

have a good today and tomorrow 💚

Omg thank you so much 😘❤️ You're so sweet! It's really satisfying to see the request number going down but I am looking forward to seeing fresh ideas roll in when I reopen 🥰 LOL have I said innit in one of my fics? I'm ngl it never occurred to me until this message that the Americans don't say 'cross' to mean angry so I Googled it and wow you really don't 😂 I grew up on Jacqueline Wilson books so I've definitely used 'cross', that's so funny 😂😂 Writing these fics has me Googling the weirdest things about what American's would or wouldn't say 😅 Have a good today and tomorrow too 😘

[marvelselfinserts]

Genuinely loved Relationships, it was so interesting, I am a sucker for hurt/comfort but i do sympathize with the thought that there should've been more groveling cause wdym just like that they are forgiven. Maybe I'm just a grudge holder 😅 Anyways forgive me for my ramble but it was great you are such a talented writer!

That's so sweet, I'm so glad you enjoyed it 😘 LOL, it seems everyone this page is a grudge holder but it is valid, they weren't the best girlfriends in that fic 😂 Thanks so much for your kind message, you're a sweetie ❤️

[marvelselfinserts]

Hi! I saw ur submission Q&A and saw that ur submissions are closed but it says march 2026, are they still closed as of june?? Also im kinda new to tumblr does submissions mean like sending these messages in to you?? 😣 im sorry

Hey my sweetie! Please don't be sorry, your questions are totally valid 😘 Submissions are fic requests and as of June 2026 they are still closed because the backlog has been so massive to get through. I am hoping to get through them by July or August at the latest so I can start accepting requests again ❤️ Sending asks is totally fine in the meantime, I do love a yap and to talk to y'all so feel free to message! 🥰

[marvelselfinserts]

Hiii. Could you make a fic featuring Natasha Romanoff X fem!reader in which they are happily married and one night Natasha has a terrible nightmare: she comes back home and finds Dreykov, Madame B and some widows torturing and then painfully killing reader with her not being able to do anything and being forced to watch everything unfold. Natasha wakes up startled, absolutely terrified and in a complete emotional breakdown (tears, shaking, breathing erratically...) and wakes up reader to make sure she is NOT really dead. Reader comforts, reassures, and loves her (LOTS of fluff) and in the meantime they remember again why they're truly each other's soulmate (reader is aware that Natasha is not that vulnerable with anyone else and she is honoured Nat lets her and Natasha is thankful that someone loves and chooses her despite her past and trauma). Thanks in advance and sorry for making the request this long xoxo.

Trauma

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader TW's: Blood, violence, death [A/N] Been suffering a little with writer's block and last time I said that on this blog it went away almost immediately so I'm saying it again in case it happens again ❤️ Happy Pride month everyone, I'll be sure to keep the lesbian fics coming this month 🌈 Thanks for the request my lovely anon, compared to some requests I get it wasn't actually that long 😂 Hope you enjoy this one 😘

Natasha unlocks the front door to the apartment she’d moved into with you five years ago. Your relationship had been going well at the time and you’d hinted more than once that you’d like to take things a step further. Eventually Natasha had relented, agreeing to move out of the Avengers compound into an apartment with you. It was small, none of the windows closed properly so there was always a draught, and every so often the shower randomly leaked with no rhythm or reason, but it had quickly become home. Natasha loved looking around and seeing pieces of you everywhere. Books strewn across the floor, the necklace you always wore left absentmindedly by the kitchen sink, your cardigan thrown over the back of a chair.

You’d gotten married two years ago, and Natasha couldn’t be happier. Marriage had always been something Natasha thought she wouldn’t experience. Even when she escaped the Red Room she’d figured, who could love someone as broken as her? You could, apparently. You were Natasha’s everything, and she was so glad she’d found you.

Maybe it’s because she’s been feeling so safe lately but Natasha doesn’t immediately notice anything out of place. It’s only when she’s kicked off her shoes that she notices the overturned coffee table, your plant pot broken with the soil spilt across the floor. You weren’t always the tidiest person around but Natasha knows if you’d bumped into it, you wouldn’t have just left it like that. This looked almost like-

“Baby?” Natasha calls out. “Are you home?”

There’s music playing in the living room and Natasha recognises it as Tchaikovsky, the ‘Swan Lake’ soundtrack. Why would you be listening to that? It’s playing loudly and it gets quieter as she creeps slowly down the corridor, and as the music quietens she begins to hear the sound of panicked sobs, and a voice calling her name. Your voice.

The moment Natasha steps into the living room someone kicks her in the leg, knocking her off her feet. Before she can react a series of punches get thrown on her, several to her face, and several to her stomach, disorienting her completely. Natasha tries to scramble to her feet, to reach for her weapon but two women grab her arms, pulling them behind her back. She squirms weakly in their grip, her alarmed gaze searching the room, finally landing on you.

You’re tied to one of the dining chairs, tears streaming down your cheeks, blood everywhere, your face battered and bruised as you let out pained pants through your tears. On either side of you stand two people Natasha remembers well, no matter how hard she wants to forget them. Madame B, her supervisor from the Red Room, and Dreykov, the man who’d put her there. Holding her back are presumably two Widow’s, and on either side of Madame B and Dreykov are four more Widow’s, each of them expressionless.

“What are you doing?” Natasha asks, thrashing in the grip of the women holding her. “What are you doing to her?”

Nobody answers her. Madame B turns back to you and you whimper, trying to squirm away from her touch as she presses a knife to your throat. Natasha thrashes harder, reaching desperately for you, “Don’t do this! Leave her alone, please, please, leave her alone-”

Natasha tries to scream but her words are coming out croaked, like her voice is slowly disappearing. She’s panicking now, so desperate to get to you. What are they doing here? How did they find her? Why are they targeting you? Questions fly through Natasha’s head but she tries to push them away, focusing on you, pulling desperately in the grip of the Widow’s but they hang on, and she’s still disoriented from the punches. For a moment she’s certain the Widow standing behind Dreykov is Yelena, when she blinks she turns into Melina, another blink and it’s Natasha herself. She shakes her head, mumbling desperately, “No, no, no, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening…”

Dreykov smiles, gesturing with his head, and Madame B drags the knife across your throat, blood beginning to pour out like a fountain. Your eyes are wide as you look towards Natasha, unable to speak as you cough and splutter, blood spilling out of your mouth. Natasha’s crying now, trying her best to scream over and over again, “No! No, please! Please! Not her! I’ll do anything, please! Please-”

But it’s too late and Natasha knows it. Your horrified gaze remains on her until your eyes glaze over, your expression stuck in permanent terror as your body slumps awkwardly in the chair, held up now only by the ropes. Dreykov turns to Natasha and she shakes her head, stammering over her words and her tears. You’re gone. Why did they do this to you? Natasha doesn’t care what happens to her now, you were her only reason for waking up in the morning, and now you’re gone, you’re gone-

Natasha bolts awake, sitting upright in bed and panting heavily. The bedroom is dark and for a moment she’s completely disoriented. Natasha reaches over to switch on the bedside lamp, her breathing coming out in erratic pants as she looks around the room. Finally her gaze lands on you and she chokes back a sob. You’re lying next to her, fast asleep, and before Natasha can think about what she’s doing she shakes your shoulder roughly, “Y/N! Y/N!”

You wake up with a start, looking up at her with wide eyes, “Wha- What?”

“Oh- Y/N…”

Natasha pulls you upright and into her arms, crying into your shoulder. For a moment you’re irritated by the sudden wakeup call but when you realise Natasha’s crying you instantly soften, wrapping your own arms around her.  You know Natasha better than anyone but you’ve only seen her cry twice, and both times she’d left the room immediately so you wouldn’t see. This is the very first time she’s allowed herself to cry so openly. “I thought there was a house fire for a minute,” You tease softly, your own heart pounding in your chest. “But I guess there must’ve been another reason that you woke me up.”

Natasha doesn’t reply and that’s when you feel her shaking, her hands digging into the fabric of the baggy t-shirt you wear to sleep in. You try to pull back to look at her but she hangs on, desperate to hold onto you, so you relent, letting her just hold you if that’s what she wants. Her breathing is still coming out in erratic pants, so you rub your hand up and down her back, mumbling, “Hey... Nat, baby, it’s okay… Everything’s okay…”

Natasha can’t speak, letting out a gulping sob as she presses a shaky kiss to your forehead, letting herself feel that you’re safe and that more importantly, you’re alive. Eventually she pulls back to look at you, cupping your cheek in her hand, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I was just asleep. Are you okay?”

Natasha suddenly pulls away, grabbing her sidearm that she keeps in the bedside drawer and creeping into the hallway. You start to say her name but Natasha holds up a finger to silence you, so you quieten, letting her do whatever she feels she needs to do. Natasha checks every room of the small apartment, every possible hiding spot until she’s satisfied that there’s no one else there. She checks the front door is definitely locked before heading back to bed and pulling you into her arms again.

You reach up to gently wipe a tear on her cheek, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You were dead.” Just saying the words out loud makes Natasha sob again, and your expression softens, kissing her tearstained cheek. “I couldn’t do anything, I was- I couldn’t save you, God, I couldn’t save you-”

“I’m fine. Okay? Nothing happened, it was just a bad dream.”

“It was worse than a bad dream, it was… Fuck, it was so real. You were-” Natasha lets out a shaky breath, leaning her forehead against yours. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought I’d fucking lost you.”

You tilt your head to press a slow, loving kiss to her lips, and mumble, “I’m right here. Nothing’s gonna happen to me-”

“You don’t know that,” Natasha says urgently. “I wasn’t there to protect you and they got the upper hand and then I couldn’t- I couldn’t-”

“Nat, baby, it wasn’t real. I don’t know what happened but it was just a bad dream.”

“What if it wasn’t though?” Natasha sobs. “This apartment isn’t the most secure and I worry about you here all by yourself while I’m away on missions. Anything could happen and if I- If I lost you, I don’t know if I could- I wouldn’t be able to-”

You consider her words for a moment, your fingers gently running over her cheek, wiping away a tear that slips down, “What would make you feel better?”

Natasha hesitates, swallowing down another sob as she tries to get a hold of her emotions. What would make her feel better? “I- I want to teach you basic self defence.”

“Okay.”

“What, you’re going to agree just like that?”

“I’d agree to anything if it made you feel better. Besides, I’ve wanted to learn for a while, I’d rather get taught by you.”

“And I want to install a security system,” Natasha says. “I’m not even asking the landlord, I’m just gonna do it.”

“We’re not getting our deposit back, are we?”

“You’re more important to me.”

You meet her gaze, seeing the way she’s looking at you. Her eyes are red, her eyelashes glistening as another tear trickles down her flushed cheek. It’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen her and you know it’s rare. A sign that she trusts you. It’s only taken her six years of being together, two of them in which you’ve been married. You kiss her teary cheek again, “You’re important to me too. Okay? And if I have to take all the self defence courses in New York, start carrying pepper spray, have the fanciest, most expensive security system that money can buy, then I will. Anything to make you feel better.”

Natasha sniffles, looking down at the bed, “I know I’m being a lot right now-”

“No, you’re being real, and I appreciate it. I love you.”

“I love you more,” Natasha replies without hesitation. “I still shouldn’t have cried.”

“It’s okay to cry, you know?” You say gently, tucking a strand of her red hair behind her ear. “It’s not a weakness, it’s just… Having a good cry makes me feel better. Do you know how many times a day I sneak to the bathroom at work to have a little cry?”

“That often? Do you like… Need help?”

“Okay, it’s not that often but sometimes things get on top of you and crying does help.” You cup her cheek with your hand again, your voice dropping quieter, “I know you didn’t cry as a kid. I know what they said to you, what they did to you if you cried… But you’re not there anymore, you’re here with me. And if you need to cry then you can just cry.”

“You’re my soulmate, you know that?” Natasha says with a small, tearful smile. “You’re the only person I fully trust.”

“What about Clint?”

“I trust Clint with my life but I trust you with my emotions.”

You smile, unable to resist kissing her cheek again. Her breathing has calmed somewhat and you run your fingers through her hair, before pressing a kiss to her forehead this time, “Do you wanna stay up a bit longer? We could put a movie on, just for some background noise and cuddle for a bit.”

Natasha hadn’t even realised that was what she needed until you suggested it. You know her even better than she knows herself sometimes. She nods mutely, cuddling into your side as you scroll through Netflix looking for something comforting to watch. Her arm snakes around your waist and she presses a kiss to your neck, “I’m sorry, I know you have work in the morning-”

“It’s one night of slightly broken sleep, I’m sure I’ll survive. Besides, I’d choose cuddles with you over sleep anytime.”

Natasha kisses you again as you finally settle on ‘Mean Girls’, an old comfort film you both enjoy. Natasha relaxes as the familiar opening begins to play and you wrap your arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She’s still on edge from her nightmare but the movie combined with your comforting presence helps to soothe her. You run your fingers through her hair and she sighs, loving when you do that. If anyone else tried to touch her hair she’d slap them, but you’re different. Your touch relaxes her and she feels a rush of love and gratitude for you.

Nothing will ever happen to you, Natasha will make sure of it. She knows Madame B and Dreykov can’t come after you, that they’re both dead now, that her dream was just her subconscious fucking with her. But there are other threats out there and if anyone tries to get near you, they’ll soon regret it. No one touches Natasha’s wife and gets away with it.

[marvelselfinserts]

I panicked there 😅

I got a new phone and old phone email which I no longer have access too is my tumblr email, So when I was trying to login into tumblr, I just couldn’t. I thought I had lost your account because all I could remember about your username was marvel something, like jeez that’s helpful 😂.

But because I’m so smart (sarcasm) I looked up posts I remember you writing about, and I found it!!. In celebration I thought I would out my account since I can’t access it and I use a different account to post.

My user was “Marvelwiz”

Also Happy pride month !!

- 🍎

APPLE ANON! MARVELWIZ! I'm glad you found me again! ❤️ Getting a new phone and having to download and log into EVERYTHING is such a ballache 😭 So happy that you made it back though 😘 Happy Pride Month to you too! 🌈❤️ I'm hopefully dropping a Natasha fic later after not updating yesterday... Keep an eye out 👀

[marvelselfinserts]

https://www.tumblr.com/marvelselfinserts/817854010544521216/relationships-requested?source=share

We need to make it legal by law for WandaNat to stop treating Reader like shit 😭!!!!! #Justice4Reader

(I loved it btw <3 I can never get enough of angst, that's one of my biggest flaws 😂)

Listen... Listen, listen, listen 😂 I did my best 😂 Glad that you enjoyed it 😘 Even if no one liked the ending 😂 Liking angst is not a flaw, when I was a teenager there were some videos that I knew would make me cry so every so often I just watched them to have a good cry 👀 I remember thinking that was normal at the time but I haven't had the urge to do it for years so I'm not sure what that says about my emotional state? 😂 Sometimes you just wanna feel something!! I get you 🫡

[jayden-isnot-here]

when the sun goes down - Prologue.

Avengers×fem!hydra!reader

Tw- mention of death, mention of amputee, mention of getting shot, hospital, nightmares , drug usage (medically)

A/N: this is my first time writing a fic 😳, I usually write sometimes but I've never really written something full-fledged 😔. So if you have any advice, please throw it at my face 🥹. Even if you have criticism. English isn't my first language so please don't mind spelling errors and grammer mistakes (point them out if possible 🥹) . And HUGE thanks to my beta reader 😭😭 <3

One of the earliest memories you remember was being carried out your room by your mum after you had a nightmare. She used to sit you down on the couch, bring you a big glass of warm milk and a cookie, and put on one of those silly cartoons to take your mind off the icky feeling of the nightmare.

You also remember hugging her leg as she made your favourite speghetti, which's smell you still remember. You remember her kissing your cheek and praising you when you had drawn a picture of her and you under a rainbow.

And one of the last memories of your mom was her holding you, whispering reassurance in a pained tone while she bled to her death. You don't really remember much after that. You have a vague memory of being fed mashed potatoes in a police station.

What you don't remember was how HYDRA had captured you. You remember the first time in your cell, crying because it was scary and dark. you don't remember how that fear, turned into a unacknowledge discomfort. You don't remember what you were being given to eat everyday but you remember that you ate.

You remember one of the nurses pitying you when they first sat you in the chair. How she slipped you a tiny chocolate without anyone knowing. You remember the sweetness of the chocolate. you remember how they had show you her hanging body. How they had forced you to look despite the waves of nausea crashing over you. How they said that it was your fault. You remember how a slight numbness crept into your heart.

---

The first thing you register was the bone deep ache across every inch of your body. You tried to open your eyes, but they felt heavy. It was obvious you were under the influence of some drug, you could've figured out what it was it your head wasn't swimming all over the place.

Since you couldn't really see, you had to rely on your other senses. You could hear a steady beeping of a machine. A timer? You thought, but the beeps came with short intervals. It sounded more like a pulse. A heartbeat. A vital monitor.

You smelt the suffocating smell of some sort of medicine. You couldn't pinpoint what it was due to the combination of different types of them.

You could feel something press onto your chest. Something against your mouth. Something against you wrists and ankles. You tried to move them, but they were as motionless as your eyelids.

Panic set in slowly. You tried to make sense of what was happening. You knew that you were currently under the influence of a drug, and in some sort of health care setting. The weight on your face must be a oxygen mask, and the things on your limbs must be restraints. You tried to remember what had happened before you ended up like this, but it felt like something was pulling you in. Before you knew it, you had already fallen unconscious.

---

You don't realise that you were awake again until you heard some voices. "How is she holding up?" One asks. It seems to be a man. "She's healing fast, probably due to the serum." Said another, a female. It also seems that the drugs affects were wearing off as now your eyelids didn't feel like heavy weighted blanket. Slowly opening them, the first thing you register was the harsh white celing light above your face. Wincing, you close your eyes for a moment before blinking them open again.

You tug your arms and realised they were bound. looking down a bit, you could clearly see that you hands were cuffed to the bed-railing. When you look further down, you see one of your leg tied and another in a cast.

It was broken about a month ago after you had tried to escape. One of the HYDRA agents had twisted and broken your leg as a punishment. They waited for a week for it to heal and since it wasn't set right nor put in a cast, it obviously didn't heal. You remember sitting on the uncomfortable examination table as the doctor had informed you that they were going to amputate your leg and replace it with a metal one in two weeks. You remember giving a small nod, knowing no one cared if you were okay with it or not.

You're startled out your thoughts as two people walk in suddenly. One was wearing a white coat, short black hair, looked like a woman and the other was a tall white man. You'd recognise that face anywhere. It was the same face HYDRA had made you hate from a young age. Steve Rodgers. When you met his face, your forehead started to hurt, from both the bright lights and the sudden rush of memories.

You were sitting in your HYDRA cell, on the bed. Your feet barely touched the ground, even with the super- soldier serum, you were quiet short. You remember the alarm blaring, the locks on the cells being overdriven, other prisionors fighting the guards. You tired to throw a punch, but the guard had shot you straight in the stomach. You remember falling to the ground, everyone running past you. No one saved you. Then you remember someone coming, lifting you and carrying you in a fireman lift. You slowly lost consciousness soon after that.

The piece fall into place. The HYDRA base your were kept in was raided. You were shot, and someone had saved you. And that someone seemed to be Captain America himself according to your disoriented memory. And now you're tied to the hospital bed in a place which seems to be Avengers tower. You could tell by the car honking coming from the streets below.

'Great. Just what I needed' you thought grimly

[marvelselfinserts]

Hello, loveliest author!

I hope youre having a fabulous friday 🥳

Please can I request a Peter Parker fic where he's just started college and he meets reader and thinks shes really cool (maybe shes room mates with kate bishop and does archery 👀) so he hides his nerdy side and tries to act cool to impress her, but eventually finds out shes a huge nerd too? Thank you!

- ✨️

Nerd

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader [A/N] Y'ALL I totally jinxed myself when we were talking about spiders earlier this week and I said I didn't get many, there was a big one in my bathroom last night 😭😭 After panicking for a while I ended up knocking on my neighbours door and they very kindly came over to remove the bloody thing for me 😂 Now I'm on edge in case he had friends! Anyway, thanks for the request my lovely 😘 Hope you enjoy this one ❤️

Peter flicks his hair out of his eyes, scanning the room. Archery had never really been his forte but hey, given the entire world had forgotten about him, this was a chance to reinvent himself. Although there had been a karate society, Peter had decided to go for something new. He hadn’t specifically been trained in karate but the radioactive spider bite had given him enhanced abilities so he knew he’d pick it up easily. Too easily. Archery would hopefully be more of a challenge.

He’d also joined the film society and the Star Wars society, having been to both of the first meetings earlier in the week. They’d both been really interesting, the film society had watched ‘What We Do in the Shadows’ and they were going to talk about it next week, whilst the Star Wars society had watched the first episode of ‘The Mandalorian’, something Peter had already watched but was more than happy to sit through again. He’d spoken to a couple of people who looked like they could turn into friends, and he was feeling a lot brighter than he had a few months ago.

Empire State University had become Peter’s top choice of college. He’d spent a long time considering going further afield but in the end had decided to stay in New York. This city was the only familiarity Peter had in his life anymore. Aunt May was gone. His friends had forgotten who he was. The world had forgotten who he was. New York was the only thing Peter had.

Admittedly, things hadn’t initially gotten off to the best start. He’d gone to his assigned dorm and found he was sharing a room with someone who reminded him greatly of Flash Thompson from High School. His roommates name was Gunner, and he’d clapped Peter’s shoulder in a way that definitely would’ve hurt a few years ago. Gunner’s side of the room was… Intense. There was a poster of a half naked girl that Peter didn’t recognise above his bed, and the floor was littered with his various weights and other exercise equipment.

Peter had stuck up a Star Wars poster above his bed; something Gunner had thought was absolutely hilarious. He’d decided not to unpack the lego Millennium Falcon that he and Ned had built together years ago, that had been a permanent fixture on his desk in Aunt May’s apartment. Even when he’d had to throw away a lot of his things because he had no where to put them, he’d kept that particular lego set. Instead, he’d kept it in its box, placing it in the wardrobe. He had lined his paperbacks along the back of his desk, ignoring Gunner loudly reading out the titles, and mocking them. It had crossed his mind to request a room transfer but he lived in hope that Gunner would mellow out. Besides, Gunner hadn’t really spent all that much time in their shared room during orientation week. Perhaps they would find a way to muddle along until the end of the year, when Peter hopes he’ll have friends he can rent some place with.

His thoughts turn to MJ and Ned over at MIT. Like he always does when they cross his mind, he tries to push them away. Instead, he scans the room again, looking for people he could potentially talk to. That’s when his eyes land on you.

You’re standing a few feet away from him, chatting to a girl with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Immediately he feels his palms turn sweaty and his cheeks turning pink. It’s been a long time since he felt such a pull to anyone but there you are. You laugh with whoever you’re talking to but before he can decide whether he’s brave enough to approach you, the session begins.

There aren’t loads of people in the archery society, so when you all line up to begin Peter moves quickly so that he’s stood next to you. This turns out to be a mistake. You and the girl with the dark hair are clearly seasoned archers, both of you hitting the bullseye immediately. Neither of you had to be shown what to do, you’d clearly done this a thousand times already. Peter stands awkwardly – despite the flyer saying this society was ‘beginner friendly’, no one shows him what to do. Eventually you spot him and step closer, “Hey. First time?”

“I’m Peter.”

He cringes at his response but you just smile and hold your hand out, “Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

Peter quickly wipes his hand on his jeans before shaking yours, forcing a smile onto his face. He gestures to the targets on the other side of the room, “Yeah, I uh… No, I’ve never done archery.”

“Okay well first of all, welcome, archery is so fun, hopefully you’ll love it as much as Kate and I do. Do you want me to show you?”

Peter’s face burns as he nods mutely. He felt like he was back in High School talking to Liz. There was someone he hadn’t thought of for a while. Wonder how she was doing-

He finds that it’s impossible to focus on anything else, including archery, when you’re stood so close to him. His hands fumble with the bow, and even though you’re patient he’s an absolute mess. Eventually the dark-haired girl gets involved too, introducing herself as Kate Bishop. It transpires that the two of you are roommates and had bonded over your shared love of archery. By the time the society is over Peter hasn’t managed to hit the target even once, and it makes him want to crawl into a hole and die.

“You’ll get better over time, I’m sure,” You say positively as you help pack everything away. “Have you joined any other societies?”

“Oh yeah, film and St-”

Star Wars. He can’t tell the coolest girl he’s ever met in his life that he’s part of the Star Wars society. Peter’s learnt not to take first impressions for granted so he schools a neutral expression on his face, “I uh, I was thinking of joining karate as well.”

“Karate and movies, huh? Sounds fun.”

“What about you?”

“Well-”

“Y/N!” Kate’s voice calls out, “We’re gonna be late, come on.”

You smile apologetically, “Sorry, we’re meeting some girls for lunch. It was nice to meet you though. Please don’t lose hope; archery is so fun once you get the hang of it. See you here next week?”

“Hey uh, actually… Since you’re the expert maybe… Maybe you could show me again. Like… Tomorrow night or something?”

You hesitate for a moment and Peter’s heart plummets when you suddenly grin and nod, “Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you here around eight?”

“Awesome! Yeah, I mean- Cool, yeah. See you tomorrow.”

You give Peter one last smile before following quickly after Kate. Peter has to resist the urge to punch the air in victory.

It’s almost embarrassing how long Peter takes to get ready the next day. Why is it that the majority of t-shirts he owns contain something nerd related on them? He has way more Star Wars t-shirts than he ever realised, and a handful of various movie t-shirts. There’s a couple of checkered shirts but even those suddenly feel lame. It hadn’t been this complicated when he’d liked Liz or MJ, had it? He’d known them both a while though, he’d known they were both at least a little nerdy whereas you… You were cool. Peter wants to be cool too. Or at least, he wants you to think that he’s cool.

Eventually he settles on a plain blue t-shirt with a pair of black jeans. By the time he makes it back to the gym you’re already there and he sighs at how effortlessly good you look. He approaches you, holding up a hand and announcing in a slightly too loud voice, “Way!” His cheeks immediately burn and he stammers quickly, “I mean, ‘hey’. I went to say ‘what’s up’ then changed my mind and decided to say ‘hey’ and it- Yeah.”

You grin, “Way to you too. I was just getting in a few practice shots before you got here.”

“Like you need any practice, you’re like… Amazing.”

“I’m not quite as good as Kate though so I’m getting in as much practice as I can to catch up. She’s been doing it since she was little whereas I only started in my late teens. I’m pretty competitive and I want to get to competition level.”

“What made you go for archery?” Peter asks, relieved he was able to actually answer you a sane question.

You think for a moment, shooting another arrow – a perfect bullseye. “If there’s ever a zombie apocalypse,” You eventually say, “I’m going to need a weapon where I can keep my distance that also doesn’t make an awful lot of noise.”

Peter’s eye-brows rise at the mention of zombie apocalypses. For a moment he’s not sure whether you’re being serious when you turn to look at him and continue, “I did a few things. Got into throwing knives for a bit. There was just something about archery that I really enjoyed though. Coming to college and ending up with an archery nut as a roommate has definitely helped.”

“Throwing knives were also zombie apocalypse contenders?”

“Of course,” You grin. “It’s all about stealth in a zombie apocalypse. You’ve gotta be prepared for anything.”

Peter hesitates, wanting to ask if you’d watched ‘The Walking Dead’ or whether your thoughts of zombie apocalypses had come from some other media, but he drops it. Instead, he picks up his bow and tries to keep calmer as you talk him through what to do all over again. After a few attempts he finally manages to hit the very edge of the target but you cheer and clap as if he got a bullseye. “Hopefully I won’t make a complete fool of myself at the next society meet,” Peter says.

“You didn’t make a fool of yourself last time! You were just new. By the end of the semester, you’ll be an expert.”

He smiles, looking down at the ground at your words before meeting your gaze again, “Hey so um… What are you doing now?”

“I’m meeting Kate,” You say vaguely. “You?”

Peter simply shrugs his shoulders and mumbles something about meeting up with some friends, not wanting to admit that a group of people from the Star Wars society had invited him along to watch ‘The Mandalorian and Grogu’ at the movie theatre. He’d already seen the movie of course, he’d been there on release day, but he was still looking to make new friends so he’d readily accepted the invite. Besides, he wouldn’t mind seeing the movie again. He watches you sling your arrows over your shoulder and leave, wishing he could ask what you’re doing with Kate, and tell you the truth about where he’s going.

A few days go by and Peter is disappointed that he doesn’t see you around campus. He should’ve suggested another night for you to practice archery with him, should’ve asked for your number… Now he’s practically counting down the days until the next archery society meet just so he can see you.

He goes to the next film society and joins in an interesting discussion about the movie they’d watched the week beforehand. It’s a lot of fun and he ends up getting into a long discussion with a girl called Cassie who has a lot of opinions about feminism in movies. He takes her number afterwards but he still can’t help thinking about you. Cassie’s a friend. Whereas you… He’s not sure what you are but he knows what he’d like you to be.

Peter does perk up when the next Star Wars society meet-up comes around. This week they’re taking it in turns to play ‘Star Wars Jedi: Survivor’, someone’s set up their PlayStation on the big screen. He’d never owned his own console so he hadn’t been able to play it. Ned had a PlayStation; they’d planned to play it together… Until… Well.

He takes a seat next to someone he’d been to the movie theatre with the other night, starting up a friendly conversation when a voice rings out about the others, “Sorry, is this the Star Wars society? I would’ve come last week but I got lost.”

Peter’s head snaps up when he hears your voice. You stand in the doorway with a self-conscious smile, looking a little out of your depth which surprises Peter. You’ve always seemed so confident, so sure of yourself. One of the society chairs confirms that it is in act that Star Wars society, and your eyes light up when you spot Peter, a familiar face, and you move to sit on his other side.

For a moment he remembers where he is and he almost feels like he’s been caught somewhere that he shouldn’t be before it clicks. You like Star Wars too. In fact, you’re wearing a ‘The Mandalorian’ t-shirt.

“You didn’t say you were part of this society,” You say. “We could’ve walked here together. I felt like such an idiot last week, I actually had no idea where I was going. Kate had to help me scope it out yesterday just so I wouldn’t get lost again.”

“I uh… I didn’t realise you liked Star Wars.”

“Oh yeah, I love it, all the films including the sequels and the standalones. I’m a bit of a geek, I’m into all sorts. I couldn’t believe it when I went on about the zombie apocalypses the other night, I was like, he’s gonna think I’m such a nerd-”

“No, that’s awesome because I am too! Are you into ‘The Walking Dead’?”

“It’s like my favourite show, though it’s tied with ‘The Mandalorian’. Did you play the video game?”

“For ‘The Walking Dead’? No, I didn’t get chance-”

“Okay, it’s literally one of my favourites, you need to come over and play it sometime so I can see what decisions you make. Oh, and you know what else is great zombie media? ‘The Last of Us.’”

“Right! It’s so good, even though Season Two wasn’t-”

“- Wasn’t as good, right!? Don’t get me wrong, I loved the first season but-”

Everyone else begins the game but you and Peter are caught up in your own conversation as you go through all the ‘nerd’ things that you both enjoy, things that Peter had thought he’d have to hide from you. Realising that you were into the same things as him only made him like you even more. The chemistry is flying between the two of you and by the time the session is up, neither of you has seen even one minute of the game you were meant to be playing. When he asks for your number you agree immediately, “Kate goes to fencing on Thursday nights. Come round and start playing ‘The Walking Dead’. I frickin’ love that game.”

Peter grins and nods, realising that when he’s with you, it’s the only time his mind is quiet. That he isn’t replaying all his old memories of MJ, Ned, May… He’s finally in the moment. And that’s where he wants to stay – in the moment with you.

[marvelselfinserts]

ahhahahah im the one who requested the relationships one with wanda and nat and i loved the ending btw, you such a good writer and put everything i wanted into it so tyyy also how many request do u have left just curious sorry if thats rude.

your so talented i hope you have a good day and remember to be kind to yourself( goodnight im going to bed cause its currently 2:03 am and i have school)

Thank you so much for your request!! ❤️ And thank you for coming back to let me know what you think! It was a fun request to write though it might be one of my most controversial, literally every comment was unhappy with how I ended it 😂 Not a rude question at all, I have about 50 🥰 You're so sweet! Good night, get a good nights sleep and have fun at school! ❤️❤️

[marvelselfinserts]

Hellooo!!

I really liked your most recent fic with yelena. Reader really gave her what she deserves lmao 🫡🫡. No hate towards the actual character tho.

Btw I finished writing the first chapter of my fic, so how exactly would you read it :'). I pretty dumb 🤩 lmao.

- 🦋 anon (⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦⁠)

Hey my lovely, really glad to hear you enjoyed 'Pretty Girls' 🥰 Ahh that's so exciting! I've set up a new email to keep my anonymity, I'd rather not post as an ask reply if possible as don't want everyone to have access to it 😂 So you may need to come off anon and send me a message so we can exchange. Alternatively if you wanna remain anonymous too you can inbox me your email and I won't post the response so as not to dox you! Then I'll email you so you can send me the chapter. Let me know ^_^

[marvelselfinserts]

Hi dear lovely author,

Popping in to say hi. You are still writing lovely stories. I did crash out over 'Relationships' , but I hope you know I crash out with love. No matter fluff or heartbreaking angst I have the best times reading your work.

Hi my Sweetie, so lovely to hear off you! I do love seeing your username appear in my notifs 😘 LOL I live for the crash outs, it's totally fine 😂 Don't worry, I never take it personally ❤️ I knew some of y'all wouldn't be happy, I didn't realise it would be pretty much all of you 😂😂 Thanks for messaging my lovely, you're actually the sweetest ❤️

[marvelselfinserts]

Pretty Girls

Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader

Fic inspired by the song 'Pretty Girls' by Renee Rapp

[A/N] Turns out I'm not working this weekend after all (which is just as well 'cos I had no fics queued...), I'm working next weekend instead now 🥰 Been listening to a lot of lesbian songs lately (and if anyone has any recommendations for my playlist please hit me up) and yeah, this song inspired me to write this fic so... Hope you enjoy! ❤️

It’s late when the knock on your door comes. You hesitate, waiting for her to knock a second time before slowly opening the door, acting like you hadn’t known she was going to come around. Of course you’d known. Wasn’t that why you’d changed into your decent underwear? And had an ‘everything shower’ earlier that evening? In fact only twenty minutes ago you’d brushed your teeth, and Yelena mumbles something about the minty taste in between kisses.

It doesn’t take long for you to both end up in your bed, your sheets freshly changed that morning. That was one of the first things you’d done when you’d heard Yelena was going out that night. Her nights out tended to follow similar patterns, all of them ending up with her in your bed. Eventually your kisses head downward, down her torso, across her thighs and then between her legs. Soon Yelena is moaning, her head tilting back as she gasps. Yelena is always quieter than you so when she has to bite her lip to suppress a particularly load moan you take that as a victory.

Next it’s your turn and Yelena’s head dips between your thighs, and now it’s you who’s gripping the clean bed sheets, who’s moaning and whimpering beneath her touch. You orgasm and it feels so good, it always does when it’s Yelena, and then her head is laying next to yours, looking sleepy and adorable. Her hand reaches out to take yours and you press a kiss to her knuckles, smiling when she giggles. You only ever hear Yelena giggle when she’s in your bed like this.

In the morning she’s gone. She’s always gone before you. No matter what time you wake up, Yelena is always awake first and sneaks out, leaving you alone in the now cold bed. At first you’d wondered if she was waiting for you to fall asleep before heading back to her own room, so you’d waited until you’d heard the evening of her breath, signalling she’d fallen asleep. You’d tried to stay awake, to savour having her here with you, but inevitably you’d drifted off too. And then she was gone again. Like she had some kind of superpower.

At breakfast with the other New Avengers, Yelena always avoids your gaze, pretending it didn’t happen. It had upset you the first time. For you it had been beautiful. You’d known you preferred girls pretty much your entire life, but you’d never had a girlfriend. Your first kiss had been with a boy, back when all your friends were having their first kisses, and you’d wanted to fit in with them. It still made you cringe to remember the taste of his tongue in your mouth.

With Yelena, it was different. Every kiss and touch left you wanting more. You’d been more open about your sexuality now you were older and if it were up to you, you’d make it official. Yelena would be your girlfriend. But the two of you never talk about your nights together. For a while you’d wondered if Yelena even remembered those nights, whether she was really too drunk until one day in training when you’d grabbed her wrist and her cheeks had immediately flushed. She’d yanked her arm out of your grip and quickly turned away, grumbling about wanting to work the punching bag now instead. Yelena remembered. She felt the chemistry too. Her denial just ran deep.

“I invited Kate round tonight,” Ava says. “I thought we could all play drinking games or something.”

“Count me out,” Bucky says.

“I figured as much. Everyone else will come though, right?”

John and Bob nod their easy agreement, and your eyes swivel to Yelena. Alexei’s away visiting Melina for the next few days, so the only two left are you and Yelena. You haven’t really drank that much with the rest of them. It’s not that you dislike alcohol; you just don’t really see the point. Sure, you don’t mind a few drinks on a night out but they’re few and far between in your line of work. Besides, it’s not like Yelena is going to-

“Sure,” Yelena says. “Sounds like fun.”

Ava turns to you and you find yourself nodding mutely. “Perfect. I’ll see you all in the common room at seven then?”

Everyone goes about their daily tasks, most heading towards training. As Yelena stands up you open your mouth to speak to her but she brushes past you, not even acknowledging you. Yelena always gets like this the morning after. After a few days she goes back to normal and starts talking to you again, but for a while she simply pretends that you don’t exist. As if that will somehow push her feelings away.

One night you’d worked up the courage to ask her why she came to your room whenever she was drunk. Her response had been simple, “I wanted to kiss a pretty girl.”

Every time you remembered her words, it made your heart beat faster and your cheeks burn. You were her pretty girl. The one that she truly trusted with her sexuality. Everyone in the compound knew that you were gay but Yelena had never-

“Will you two please get it over with and just kiss already?”

John’s words jolt you out of your thoughts and your head snaps up. “What?”

He studies your expression for a moment before nodding thoughtfully, “Oh I see. You already have, huh?”

“I- What? What are you talking about?”

“You and Yelena. I mean, it’s kind of obvious.”

Sometimes it was easy to just think of John as the grumpy one in the group. It was only when you were out in the field, or moments like this, that you remembered he was chosen to be Captain America for a reason. He was more observant than you gave him credit for. You clear your throat, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

John stares at you for a long moment before standing up from the table and nodding, “My mistake then.”

As he leaves the room you realise he’s also more tactful than you give him credit for too. It makes you wonder though – if John’s caught on, how many of the others have? Are you the one giving away the secret? Are you making it obvious? You know Yelena would be so embarrassed if you outed her before she was ready, and you decide to try and be a bit more subtle. For her sake. You’ll both make it official when she’s feeling more secure, when she’s ready to tell everyone.

For the rest of the day you avoid the others, deciding that you’ve earned a day off. You tidy up the common room ready for later, then retreat to your favourite spot by the window to read. The day passes peacefully though the closer seven o’clock comes, the more anxious you get.

Last time you’d drank with the others you and Yelena had barely made it back to your room. You’d gone out to use the bathroom, and the moment you came out you’d found Yelena waiting for you. Before you could open your mouth, her lips had been against yours, her hand in yours, and you’d just about made it back to your room before she began to unbutton your pants. It had been lucky that no one had walked in on you. When the others had questioned your whereabouts the next day, Yelena had told everyone you’d had one too many and she’d had to help you back to bed, which they seemed to accept.

At five you start getting ready, taking another long shower before dressing in something nicer than your day clothes. It’s almost embarrassing how much you want to impress Yelena but she has such awesome taste in clothes. She always looks so good and well put together. You want her to think the same about you.

It takes you so long to pick an outfit that you end up in the common room thirty minutes late. You’d taken out every item of your clothing, throwing them on your bed, debating the merits of all of them. They’d suddenly all seemed so babyish, so unlike the image you wanted to project. Finally you’d settled on something comfortable but that you thought Yelena might like. Everyone else is already seated, and the only spot left is in between John and Ava. Yelena sits opposite you, very close to Kate, you can’t help but notice.

Kate isn’t part of the New Avengers. Controversially, she’s actually part of the Young Avengers, put together by Kamala Khan with the approval of Sam Wilson, and they acted alongside the Avengers. It was something you’d overheard Yelena teasing Kate about constantly, “They count you as young? Seriously? Me and Y/N should swap too in that case.”

Kate is cool though and despite the copyright issues, and the whole ‘who are the real Avengers’ issue; there have never been any hard feelings. It’s just that your stomach flips over whenever you see her near Yelena in a way that it never does when Yelena is hanging out with Ava. It’s just you being paranoid though. Because whose bed does Yelena end up in? There’s nothing to worry about.

Everyone pours a drink and you all clink glasses, cheering before Ava announces the first game. “Truth or dare,” She grins.

“I’m nowhere near drunk enough for that,” John complains. “We should start with something easier like ‘never have I ever’.”

“I didn’t think you could even get drunk with the super soldier serum,” Bob says.

“He’s right though, ‘never have I ever’ is a starting game,” Yelena says. “I’ll go first. Never have I ever… Had a one-night stand.”

John, Ava and Bob all take a drink, and your heart feels lighter for the first time since you saw Yelena sitting next to Kate. If she doesn’t consider what you guys do to be one-night stands then there must be feelings involved. It must be something deeper.

Kate’s up next and she thinks for a long moment before announcing, “Never have I ever used a fake ID.”

Yelena and Bob take a drink. Bob goes next, “Never have I ever… Been married.”

“That feels targeted but okay,” John says, taking a drink.

The game continues for a few rounds until Ava announces that everyone should now be sufficiently drunk, therefore they can all start playing Truth or Dare. John rolls his eyes but doesn’t complain this time, and the game begins with you. “Truth,” You answer without hesitation. No way are you risking a dare.

“Who was your first kiss with?” John asks.

“Boy named Henry in Middle School. It was disgusting and confirmed that I am, in fact, a lesbian.”

Everyone laughs and the game quickly moves on to Ava, who chooses dare and you dare her to recreate any TikTok dance. It turns out that Ava doesn’t know any so after spending a full ten minutes looking through her phone she just rolls her eyes and says she’ll take a drink instead. Next up is Yelena who immediately chooses dare – you’re not surprised.

“Okay,” Ava says with a wicked smile. “I dare you… To kiss the prettiest girl in the room.”

You raise your eye-brows, giving a nervous laugh as you glance at Yelena, “Give her a different one, that’s not fair.”

“It’s fine, I’ll do it,” Yelena says in a breezy voice.

Yelena reaches over slowly, brushing her fingers over Ava’s cheek and then tucking a strand of Ava’s hair behind her ear. Your heart pounds fast in your chest as Yelena leans closer, her lips almost touching Ava’s when she suddenly pulls back with a cocky grin. Of course she wouldn’t pick Ava, not when you were sat right there. You’d been paranoid to think otherwise.

Yelena moves to sit in front of you and you try to keep your expression neutral though your heart starts pounding again, your hands turn sweaty and you can’t meet anyone’s gaze. Yelena’s hand cups your cheek and her face moves in front of yours, and it’s really going to happen, she’s finally going to kiss you in front of everyone-

You hear her laugh and when you look up her hand has already moved away from your cheek as she turns to face Kate this time. What is she doing? Why is she dragging this out so much? Yelena’s hand cups Kate’s cheek now, her thumb tracing over Kate’s bottom lip before Yelena suddenly leans forward and kisses her.

Yelena kisses Kate. Right in front of everybody.

It’s not even a light peck that lasts less than a second; it’s a proper kiss that to you seems to go on for a lifetime before eventually Yelena pulls away, grinning as she moves to sit back in her spot. She doesn’t even glance in your direction as she announces, “Okay Kate it’s your turn. Truth or Dare?”

“Uh I pick-”

You’re on your feet before Kate can even answer, tears streaming down your cheeks. Alcohol always makes you feel everything so intensely. You’re pretty emotional anyway, always wearing your heart on your sleeve, but alcohol makes it so much worse. You bite your knuckles to try and suppress your sobs, not wanting the others to see. If you can just get to your room-

“Y/N!”

A voice calls out to you but it’s not Yelena’s. Of course it’s not Yelena’s; you’re not even her pretty girl, just one pretty girl amongst many, nothing special-

“Y/N.” It’s John and he puts his hand on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you when you turn to cry into his chest.

“Did you know she was going to do that?”

“No, I don’t think anybody did. Maybe even Yelena didn’t.”

“How could she do that to me?” You sob. “After everything-”

“I don’t know everything that went down between you and Yelena, and you don’t have to tell me, but let’s not think about that right now. Let’s go sit somewhere, just you and me, okay?”

“Y/N.”

It’s a female voice that you recognise immediately but you bury your face in John’s chest, not wanting to look at her smug face. Kate isn’t deterred, “Hey, is everything okay?”

“I think she needs some space right now,” John says.

“Do you want me to get Yelena?”

“No!” You cry.

“No, I think that’s a bad idea,” John says. “You head back, I’ll look after Y/N.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, she’s in good hands, I promise.”

You finally lift your head from John’s chest to meet Kate’s gaze. There’s no smugness there, just sympathy. ‘You’re not special,’ you want to snap, but what’s the point? It was Kate who’d been chosen as the prettiest girl in the room. You weren’t the one Yelena had kissed.

Kate heads back to the common room whilst John takes you through to the small meeting room with the large windows, another one of your favourite spots in the Tower for looking at the city. New York is still bustling and you look outside, wondering how many other girls are as heartbroken as you right now.

John is a gentleman, sitting quietly with you as you cry, listening patiently as you go over the same questions again and again, his hand running steadily up and down your back. You’re not sure how long you both sit there but it must’ve been hours. John doesn’t rush you or give any indication that he has somewhere else to be. “I’m sorry,” You sniffle.

“Don’t be,” John says. “I have a younger sister, she’s called- Never mind. Anyway, you remind me of her. I’d want someone to sit with her if she was this upset.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not, you’re my Avengers sister,” John says. “I’ll always look out for you.”

“Why did she do that, John?” You ask even though you’ve already asked it a dozen times already. “Why wouldn’t she just kiss me?”

“I don’t know,” He repeats. “I think Yelena is amazing but I get the feeling you never really get beneath the surface with her.”

“I thought I had,” You mumble. “I thought I was special.”

“Y/N… You are special. And really pretty. Yelena was crazy not to kiss you.”

“Kate’s pretty too though.”

“Of course she is. And so is Ava. Any one of you could’ve been kissed but given everything going on between you and Yelena, she either should’ve kissed you or not completed the dare.”

“Maybe she didn’t want to be outed in front of everyone,” You suggest tearfully.

“Maybe,” John says gently. “I guess the only person who truly knows is Yelena.”

Eventually exhaustion catches up with you and John walks you back to your room, ruffling your hair and reminding you that his room is just down the hall if you need him. For the first time you’re seeing him in a completely different light and you’re grateful that if anything came out of this it’s your ‘Avengers big brother’.

You’ve just changed into your pyjamas and wiped off your now ruined make-up when the door knocks. For a moment you think it’s John, come back to check on you one more time or bring you some water or something. You’re almost gobsmacked to find Yelena waiting there, propped up against the doorframe, just like any other night when she’s had a few drinks.

“Yelena-”

Before you know it her arms are around your waist and she presses a kiss to your lips. “Those pyjamas are so cute,” She mumbles between kisses. “You look so pretty.”

It would’ve been so easy to melt into the kisses. To forget about the hurt, the betrayal, to let her love you, to let her make you feel good. But that comment shattered any spell she could’ve placed you under and you pull yourself out of her embrace, “Not pretty enough apparently.”

Yelena grins and reaches out for you again, her expression faltering when you take another step back, “What do you mean?”

“Are you serious? You actually don’t know why I’m upset?”

Yelena hesitates, her eyes searching yours, looking genuinely confused. Finally she sighs, “No… No, don’t tell me this is about the game-”

“Are you kidding me? You embarrassed me, in front of everyone-”

“How did I embarrass you?”

“You didn’t kiss me!”

“I didn’t kiss Ava either but she didn’t storm off in a flood of tears.”

“Ava’s not the one you’re paying late night visits to!”

Yelena groans, “I knew you’d get like this.”

“Get like what?”

“It’s not… This isn’t serious, Y/N. I thought you knew that. Why do you think I sneak out before you wake up? I just want some fun when- I mean, it’s fun, right? We have fun, don’t we?”

“Even if we’re just friends with benefits, you still should’ve kissed me. It’s not like you do this with Kate so you should’ve-” You pause. Yelena doesn’t say anything and that’s when the penny drops. “You… You’ve been messing around with Kate.”

“Y/N-”

“Behind my back.”

“It was not behind your back, it just wasn’t something I really advertised. God, I mean… It’s not like we’re dating.”

“I just assumed that was because you weren’t so open about the fact you were gay, Yelena. It… I always thought it meant something more than just sex. I always thought-”

That it was just you. That you were special. That Yelena loved you.

“Let’s not do this,” Yelena says. “Let’s just… Come on, I just wanted to kiss you.”

“Why? Has Kate gone home for the night?”

“Don’t be like this, please don’t be like this. I’m sorry I kissed Kate, okay? It didn’t mean anything, it was just a dumb game.”

“You think she’s prettier than me, you prefer her to me, you’ve been messing around with her and I had to find out from a stupid game of Truth or Dare!”

“I don’t- For God’s- You’re both just as pretty as each other, okay? But I wanted to wind up Ava and so I decided to carry on down the line to really sell it. It doesn’t mean that I like Kate more. One of you had to be left out.”

“Are you even sorry, Yelena?” You ask. “Because I’m hearing a lot of excuses and not a lot of apologies.”

“I’m sorry that you’re upset, yes, but I don’t think I did anything wrong! If you created some fantasy in your head that this is more than just sex then I don’t know what to say.”

“So you just… Don’t care about me? At all?”

“I never- For God’s- Obviously I care about you! I care about everyone in this tower, all of you.”

“Forgive me for thinking that those late nights actually meant something. That I meant something to you.”

Yelena shakes her head, and then shrugs. Usually she’s pretty drunk when she’s in your room but you get the impression now that she’s more alert than she’s letting on. Eventually she holds her hands up, “You knew I was drunk when I came here. What does that say about you?”

You open and close your mouth several times before hissing, “Don’t you dare try and imply I was taking advantage of you, Lena.”

“Stop acting like I owe you something Y/N. You knew what this was.” Yelena rolls her shoulders back, stretches and then groans. “I’m going to bed.”

“Just like that?” You ask quietly.

“I’m tired and honestly I’m getting a headache.”

Yelena doesn’t move and you wonder what she’s waiting for. Your heart pounds as you meet her gaze, neither of you moving or saying anything. Seconds go by, maybe even minutes, as you both just stare at each other. It’s Yelena who caves first as she nods, silently leaving your room and closing the door quietly behind her.

You climb into your bed, pulling the duvet over your head and you start crying again. Had Yelena really been in this bed with you just twenty-four hours beforehand? If only you had known it would be the last time. Your tears are those of hurt and grief – you will never share another intimate moment with Yelena again. Part of you knows she’s right. That she’d never implied this was anything more than sex. You’d let yourself believe you were special, that you meant something more to her. Either way, you can’t forgive her for not telling you about Kate. For kissing Kate instead of you in that stupid game.

The next morning Yelena acts as if nothing happened. Despite the awkward atmosphere in the kitchen, Yelena eats her breakfast in her usual nonchalant manner. Ava gives you glances across the table, trying to figure out what upset you so much last night whilst Bucky seems none the wiser, having not been clued in to your tears or the games that took place last night. You’re not sure what to do with yourself once you’ve finished eating when John taps your shoulder, “Hey. Wanna train with me today?”

You nod, grateful for his discretion. You’re slightly less grateful when you begin the military workout he puts together for you, but you know he’s only trying to keep you distracted. And it works wonders. Once you’re both done for the day he suggests the two of you go out for dinner, and you readily agree, especially when you overhear that Yelena’s going out for a few drinks.

John takes you to a sports bar across town. Not really your scene but he does pay for the food which is a bonus. Afterwards instead of going straight home he suggests that the two of you go bowling, another perfect distraction. It’s difficult to bowl with how much your limbs are aching but again, he pays and you nudge his arm on the way home, “I could get used to having a big brother.” He grins back at you.

That night you change into your pyjamas and climb into bed. You’ve just settled down when you hear a knock at your bedroom door. For a moment you sit in silence before reaching over, flicking your bedside lamp off and pulling the covers up to your chin. There’s another knock at the door, quieter this time. You hold your breath and listen. After a long moments silence you eventually hear footsteps disappearing down the hallway.

You take a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling before closing your eyes and going to sleep.

[marvelselfinserts]

https://www.tumblr.com/marvelselfinserts/817854010544521216/relationships-requested?source=share

i will patiently wait until you open your requests again so i can send an alternative ending for this.

NO WAY I'LL ACCEPT THAT MOTHERFUCKING APOLOGY?!?!?!?

— 🤓

I HAVE SEEN THE FEEDBACK, I GET IT, Y'ALL DIDN'T LIKE THE ENDING, I'M SOOOOOOOOOOOORRY 😂😂 I'm very much looking forward to hearing your ideas my lovely 😘 I have already considered an alt 'reader doesn't forgive them' ending based on the feedback already but we'll see! If I don't get round to it, I'm looking forward to receiving your request 🥰 I did wonder at the time whether to make reader not forgive them but decided to put them together, I'm soooooooorry everyone! 😂

[marvelselfinserts]

hellooo! i got a request:)

its about stucky& teen reader where reader is struggling with a smoking addiction and they dont tell steve or bucky and they just find out on their own? (with a little bit of angst and fluff, but its up to you! thank you if u see this🤍)

Addict

Dad!Stucky & Teen!Reader [A/N] Happy Friday everyone, this week seems to have gone much quicker with Bank Holiday Monday ❤️ I am working this weekend 😭 Does anyone else have any fun plans? Thanks for this request my sweetie, hope you enjoy 😘

You reach into your backpack, pulling out a can of deodorant and quickly spray it all over your body. You’re a little sweaty from the walk home but that’s not the main reason you need so much deodorant - you want to try and keep the stench of cigarettes from your clothes. It was advice that your best friend had given you but it wasn’t like they had super soldiers for parents. You needed an even more generous amount of deodorant if you wanted to have a chance in Hell of hiding the stench from your Dads’.

Evenings and weekends are always long now. It’s easier to find a quiet place at school to smoke but at home, there’s no chance of you getting away with smoking a cigarette in the tiny apartment your Dads’ rent, they’d sniff you out like bloodhounds. Sometimes you can get away with saying you want to stretch your legs, and you can sneak one whilst walking around the block. If your Dads’ realise that they need anything from the store you’ll quickly volunteer to go fetch it, just so you can sneak a cigarette on the walk over. It’s a lot of mental gymnastics for something you didn’t really want to do in the first place.

Your Dads’, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, have always been strict – soldiers raised in the 1930’s do tend to be like that. Since you’d started High School you’d struggled with their strict code though. You loved them both but they weren’t willing to let you take any risks or figure things out for yourself. Your curfew was way earlier than the rest of your friends, and it was an absolute no to any parties. Which is why you’d told them a little fib a few months ago, and had asked if you could stop at a friend’s house. And you had spent the night there – when you’d both got back from a party.

One of your classmates’ parents were away so they’d thrown a teen party, and you’d told yourself you’d be sensible. It hadn’t exactly gone the way you’d thought though, and you and your best friend had drank far more than you’d intended. When someone had offered you a cigarette you’d initially said no, but then someone had sneered, “Y/N? No way, they’re a goodie two shoes.”

That wasn’t the reputation you wanted to leave school with. So you’d accepted, joining in with the laughter when you’d coughed and spluttered after your first drag. By the time you’d finished it though it was far easier. You’d accepted another one, and then another one. After the party, you’d assumed that was that - you wouldn’t smoke again. Until you’d found you were struggling to concentrate because all you wanted was another nicotine hit. You’d thought you’d need to smoke far more to get an addiction but three cigarettes at a dumb party was all it had taken.

Someone at school with a fake ID gets you the cigarettes, selling them on to you for a higher price. It takes up all of your allowance but you don’t have much of a choice. Smoking wasn’t something you’d wanted to start up but giving them up now felt impossible. One of the worst parts was sneaking around and hiding it from your Dads’. Every time you snuck a cigarette you felt like you’d proved them right. You’d gone to just one party and now you were addicted to the stupid things.

“Hey kid,” Steve calls out when he hears you let yourself in. “How was school?”

“Fine,” You call back, kicking off your shoes, hoping to head straight to your room.

“Got any homework?”

“Some.”

You hear him getting up from the couch and groan internally. Shouldn’t have kept it so vague, your parents are not put off by lack of details, they always want to know more. Sure enough, Steve appears in the hallway, his arms folded, “What’s ‘some’?”

“I got a History paper due on Friday then just some simple Maths equations for tomorrow. I’ll get it done.”

Steve doesn’t say anything for a long moment and you avoid his gaze, hoping that you used enough deodorant. You’re worried you’ve already grown ‘nose blind’ to the cigarette smoke, and with your Dad’s super soldier senses… Eventually Steve nods, “Don’t leave that paper to the last minute. Get a head start on it.”

“Yeah, I’ve got my opening paragraph and most of the source references, I just need to… Actually put it together.”

“Do you want any help?”

“I’ll be okay. Thanks though.”

Steve nods, looking you up and down for a moment, “Is everything okay kiddo?”

You swallow hard, wiping your hands on your jeans, “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

“You sure? You seem a little distant lately. Your Dad and I are getting a bit worried-”

“There’s really nothing to worry about-”

“It’s just… You know we’d help you, right? If you needed it.” Steve unfolds his arms to run his fingers through his hair, fixing you with that look. The look that makes you feel like he can see right through you and knows all of your secrets. “I know you’re growing up but you don’t have to fix everything on your own.”

After a moment’s hesitation you wipe your hands on your jeans again and nod, “Everything’s fine Papa. Really.”

Steve looks at you again for a long moment before sighing, “Okay. Dinner will be ready at six.”

Now you’ve been officially dismissed, you dart to your room and try to focus on your homework. Your Dads’ had raised you to work on your homework the night it was set so that it didn’t all get on top of you, something that you still took seriously now. Trying to focus on your History paper turns out to be harder than you thought, and you find your fingers tapping agitatedly against your desk. You haven’t had a cigarette since lunch. You only have a couple left in the pack, and you need to make them last but you’re desperate for another one. Eventually you close your laptop and try to focus on your equations instead but it’s hard to concentrate.

Your eye prickle with frustrated tears. You can’t honestly say that you like smoking and now it feels like it’s taking over your life. Eventually you can’t even focus on the equations or the paper or anything else so you get up, pacing restlessly back and forth, rubbing your hands against your jeans. By the time Bucky calls you through for dinner you’re feeling wound up and stressed, unable to stop your agitated fidgeting.

It’s spaghetti bolognese with garlic bread for dinner, one of your favourites, but you’re too wound up to enjoy it. Your Dads’ insist that the three of you eat at the table to eat, even though the kitchen in your apartment is tiny, and barely fits the small table and chairs. You’d told them it would be a better use of space to just get trays and all of you sit on the couches in front of the TV to eat, but they’d told you in no uncertain terms that dinnertime was family time. Every meal was to be had at the table, except for Sunday mornings when they let you eat your breakfast in the living room whilst you watched cartoons.

“How are you getting on with your History paper, Y/N?” Steve asks.

“Fine.”

“History paper, huh?” Bucky asks. “What have they got you writing about?”

“French Revolution.”

“Ah, ‘let them eat cake’ and all that,” Bucky says. “Do you want any help?”

“Papa already offered. I’m fine.”

“How was school today?” Steve asks. “Have they posted volleyball tryouts yet?”

“I don’t think I’m gonna go for volleyball this year.”

“Oh?” Bucky asks. “Why not?”

“Just not feeling it.”

“You gonna pick something else then?” Steve asks you. “You know we like you to do at least one sport-”

“I don’t know!” You snap loudly. “Will you get off my back? I’m just trying to eat!”

Steve and Bucky glance at each other and you wait for the inevitable lecture on being rude. Neither of them says anything as they continue eating but you see the look on their faces which makes you feel even worse than if they’d just yelled at you. Maybe your Dad’s are a little strict, but you’ve always been close to them and you don’t want to hurt their feelings. Now you’re snapping at them just because you’re craving a stupid cigarette?

You tap your fingers against the table and whisper, “I’m sorry.”

Bucky reaches over to put his hand on your shoulder, “Kid, is there anything you wanna tell us?”

Your throat dries up and you look down the table, torn between wanting to be honest with them and not wanting to be grounded for the rest of your life. Steve glances at Bucky again before looking back at you, “Maybe it would help if we gave you this.”

You wait at the table as Steve heads out of the room, Bucky’s gaze boring into you. It takes a couple of minutes whilst you and Bucky sit in silence until Steve returns, placing a pack of nicotine gum in front of you. Oh. They’d figured it out - of course they had. You’d been stupid to think you could get anything past your military Dads’.

You open and close your mouth a few times before eventually mumbling, “I… I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Steve asks.

“Because I didn’t want to get into trouble and I- Please stop looking at me like that, it’s making me feel awful.”

You burst into tears and Bucky sighs, unable to help pulling you into his lap and wrapping his strong arms around you. He might be disappointed but you’re still his kid, and he kisses the top of your head. “You really thought that some deodorant would cover up the stench of the cigarettes?”

You sniffle, burying your face in his shoulder, “I’m really sorry. I hate them, I want to quit but it’s so hard and now I’m being mean to you both and it- It-”

“What made you even start in the first place?”

You tell them about the party and the comment that the other kid had made, and how you’d had so much to drink that you’d kept accepting the cigarettes that had been handed to you. Steve looks so disappointed that it makes you cry harder. “I’m really sorry!”

“Okay,” Steve says in that commanding voice, the one that you know means it’s time to shut up and listen. “Tell us where you’ve been getting the cigarettes.”

“Guy at school sells them to me. It takes up all my allowance.”

“Okay.” Steve sighs, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “From now on, you’re not taking your allowance to school. Or any money actually, it stays home with us. If you don’t have any money on you then you can’t buy the cigarettes. How many do you have left?”

“Only two.”

“We’re gonna get rid of them.”

“But-”

“No ‘but’ Y/N, you know we don’t mess around when it comes to your health,” Steve says firmly whilst Bucky tucks your head beneath his chin, his hand rubbing comfortingly up and down your back. “If you need anything… The gum, patches, whatever, me and Dad will buy them for you.”

“You should try out for the volleyball team again,” Bucky says. “You need an outlet. Something to keep your mind off the cravings.”

“If you’re struggling with it then tell us,” Steve says. “And we’ll do what we can to help you.”

“Am I grounded?” You sob.

Steve sighs, “We’re not thrilled about the party. But no, you’re not grounded.”

“You can do the dishes every night for the next two weeks though,” Bucky says. “Consider it an outlet until the cravings pass.”

“And no using the dishwasher,” Steve says. “Gotta keep those hands busy.”

Despite how disappointed they are in you, you can’t help feeling relieved that the burden is finally lifted from your shoulders. If your Dads’ take the cigarettes away from you, there’s nothing you can do. The decision has finally been taken away from you, the burden shared… You slump in Bucky’s arms with an almost relieved sigh. “I really am sorry.”

“We know you’re getting older and you want to try new things,” Bucky says, “But we need you to do that reasonably.”

“No more hiding things from us,” Steve says. “If you’re struggling with something then we want you to tell us. Not bottle it up because you’re worried you’re going to get into trouble.”

“We love you,” Bucky says, “Always have, always will. No matter what.”

You relax a little, relieved that they don’t seem too angry with you. Their disappointed expressions have morphed into loving ones and Bucky presses another kiss to the top of our head. You feel hopeful too – with their help, you know you’ll be able to shift the addiction. Maybe it will take time - you still crave a cigarette but now you at least have the gum. And two Dads’ who’ll be there for you every step of the way.

[marvelselfinserts]

hi! sooo update! i thought i’d cured my writers block because like i said, i did end up writing something really good last week, but now i’m also realizing that it wasn’t just writers block. plainly, i think i’m just burnt out, like both mentally and emotionally exhausted. so i don’t actually know the next time i’ll write again ☹️ BUT i still appreciate the advice you gave me last week, and if you have any tips on how to deal with this, it would be greatly appreciated 🩷

- 🫗

Honestly I think the best thing to do is have a break for a little while if you're feeling burnt out ❤️ Writing is fun until it literally isn't, and like I said, there's no point in staring at that blank screen. Take time to recover and do other things that you enjoy, I'm sure you'll soon find that creative spark again 😘 Sorry to hear you're so burnt out though, that honestly sucks 😭 My only advice is to focus on other things that you enjoy that help you relax and destress. For example last night I played 'Tiny Bookshop' on my Switch for the first time, I loved it so much ❤️ It's one of those cozy games I know I'll binge for like a month straight and then suddenly get bored of but I'm enjoying it right now 😂 Push the writing aside and focus on something else - it will come back!