𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒐𝒇𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒔

𑁍 carly 𑁍 she/her 𑁍 marvel fandom 𑁍 swiftie 𑁍 19

[oneofstarkskids]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

*guess who finally got off her lazy ass and made a masterlist!! enjoy*

{i do not give permission for my writing to be used or reused in any way or claimed as your own. reblogs are appreciated}

my asks are always open, so if there's a character you want on here just lmk

🌼- fluff

☕- angst

🩷- romantic

💛- platonic

🏳️‍🌈- wlw

𔘓 thunderbolts special-

die son (NEW AVENGERS) 🌼💛

𔘓 peter parker~

always ☕🌼💛

impossible ☕💛

spider bite 🌼💛

without you ☕💛

a girl 🌼🩷

coffee? 🌼💛

say no ☕🌼

too far 🌼💛

win you over 🌼💛🩷

remember me 🌼☕️💛

𔘓 bucky barnes~

don't say that ☕🩷

don't say that (part 2) ☕🩷

don't say that (part 3) ☕🩷

stay a little longer 🌼🩷

picnic date 🌼🩷

this has to be perfect 🌼🩷

i can teach you 🌼🩷

saturn 🌼🩷

brilliant 🌼🩷

so high school 🌼🩷

so high school (part 2) 🌼🩷

so high school (part 3) 🌼🩷

i know you ☕🩷

i lost you (part 1) ☕🩷

i lost you (part 2) ☕🩷

cute 🌼🩷

inspiration 🌼🩷

fly me to the moon 🌼🩷

girl back home 🌼🩷

someone else ☕🩷

delacroix ☕🩷

monstrosity 🌼🩷

redemption ☕🩷

NEW SERIES↓

i chose you 🌼☕🩷

i told her 🌼🩷

you knew it 🌼☕🩷

𔘓 steve rogers~

freedom 🌼☕

𔘓 steven grant~

tissues 🌼🩷

plus...he's adorable 🌼🩷

plus...he's adorable (part 2) 🌼🩷

you'll never lose me 🌼🩷

don't leave ☕🩷

london boy 🌼🩷

easier 🌼🩷

𔘓 loki laufeyson~

a mistake ☕🩷

rose between your fingers ☕🩷

𔘓 matt murdock~

false god ☕🩷

𔘓 natasha romanoff~

your braids like a pattern 🌼🩷🏳️‍🌈

was it love? 🌼☕🩷🏳️‍🌈 (PEGGYNAT)

right now ☕🩷🏳️‍🌈

𔘓 carol danvers~

do you like babies? 🌼🩷🏳️‍🌈

it's not your fault ☕🩷 🏳️‍🌈

learn a thing or two 🌼🩷🏳️‍🌈

headlines🌼🩷🏳️‍🌈

her world 🌼🩷🏳️‍🌈

pulling her under🩷🏳️‍🌈 (VALCAROL)

𔘓 wanda maximoff~

vulnerable 🌼🩷🏳️‍🌈

piercing blade ☕🩷🏳️‍🌈

𔘓 michelle jones~

the real thing 🌼🩷🏳️‍🌈

wish ☕🩷🏳️‍🌈

𔘓 yelena belova~

little james🌼🩷🏳️‍🌈

hair holds memories🌼🩷🏳️‍🌈

𔘓 kate bishop~

you never lost me ☕🩷🏳️‍🌈

★ X-MEN ★

so damn comfy (remy lebeau) 🌼🩷

★ CAST FICS ★

no clue (florence pugh) 🩷🌼🏳️‍🌈

★ HAILEE STEINFELD CHARACTERS★

filthy -charlie watson (bumblebee) 🌼🩷🏳️‍🌈

love letters, roses, and lockets 🌼🩷🏳️‍🌈 EMILYSUE (dickinson)

★ DC ★

𔘓 bruce wayne~

i knew you were trouble- bruce wayne 🩷

𔘓 clark kent~

big baby- clark kent 🩷🌼

go to sleep- clark kent ☕🩷

charming- clark kent 🩷🌼

professional- clark kent 🩷🌼

𔘓 dick grayson~

memories 🩷🌼

knight in shining armor 🩷🌼

random

fresh out the slammer- steve randle (the outsiders) 🩷

wanna switch?- mike lance (magic mike) 🩷🌼

different-daniel le domas (ready or not) 🩷🌼

...

[enthyrea]

- i bet we were fun.

- like you wouldn’t believe.

[oneofstarkskids]

cuties 🥰

[oneofstarkskids]

REMEMBER ME

*peter parker fanfic*platonic*stark reader*inspirational qoutes core*generic tropes*unfortunatly english is my first language*mcu timeliness with tweaks*makes sense if you squint*

note: heyyyyyy, i'm going to inconspicuously post as if i haven't been m.i.a for a century. i did in fact watch brand new day but this was a draft from way before so it actually has nothing to do with that lmao. enjoy! *✧･ﾟ

peter knew what his friends and fallen mentor would expect of him if they could remember his name...or were still around.

they'd expect him to bounce back.

keep his head up high, come back stronger, and keep being the friendly neighborhood spider-man.

but lately, he felt like a friendly neighborhood failure. he had nearly destroyed his entire timeline, almost gotten his girlfriend and best friend killed, and ruined the lives of so many people. from his universe and others.

everything that used to mean so much to him suddenly meant nothing at all.

what good would MIT get him if there was nobody to share it with. so he decided to keep his head down, hang up the mask. at least for a while.

he had nothing left to fight for.

maybe new york, and the rest of the world for that matter, would be better off without spider-man.

so that's what he did. he went radio silent. for a while it was nice.

but then there was that sickening weight on his chest. the loneliness that sunk into his bones and was fed by his isolation. it began to tell him he liked it better this way.

even if he was too miserable to get out of bed most days.

it wasn't always terrible, he mustered up enough will to get a part time job. his landlord kind of left him with no choice.

but it wasn't a hard job. editorial photographers assistant. he got to see the fun stuff happen, and do... the coffee runs. but hey, it helped him scrape by.

it didn't bother him so much that he was the office punching bag for poor jokes, or that his boss constantly called him 'petey-boy.'

it was almost refreshing. because for a few seconds during the day, even he had forgotten who peter parker was.

he would go back to his shitty four walls each night, write letters he'd never send, rummage through old projects he'd never finish, and stare at the ceiling until his eyelids got heavy.

tonight was supposed to be the same. but as the cracks and grooves above him slowly formed shapes, he heard a knock on his door.

he turned his head towards the entrance, brows furrowed. who would be knocking on his door at this time of night, or at all for that matter. he was sure he'd paid the mean old man downstairs his rent for the month just days ago.

he slowly stood up, listening and waiting. whoever it was didn't seem to be setting off his heightened senses, so they must not have posed any sort of danger.

he took the risk, creeping his way to the door and slowly unlatching the bolts before cracking it open.

standing there, rain soaked hoodie over her head and arms crossed tightly was someone he thought he'd never see again.

"you're a hard kid to find, parker," she said with a sass she clearly inherited from her father. peter never understood why she insisted on calling him kid, considering he was five years older than her before the blip.

but the nickname didn't phase him now. peter was frozen in disbelief. it was like seeing a ghost.

"are you going to invite me in? I've had a rough...well let's be honest...life," she scoffed.

peter slowly stepped aside, letting her brush past him.

five steps and she'd pretty much seen his whole place. the girl turned around, dissapointment etched into her tired eyes, "peter this place has a mildew smell. you inherited half of my father's life's work and couldn't swing for something in manhattan?"

he just continued to stare at her blankly.

she simply stared back, an arched brow accompanying the expression.

"how is this possible," he finally said softly.

"it wasn't that hard, i am a stark. i can find practically anyone. it doesn't hurt to be raised around ex assassins and secret agents," she bragged.

peter stumbled over his words, "no I mean...how- how do you remember me? this isn't supposed to be possible."

her face contorted, "for once, i'm confused."

"the spell. mister- doctor strange, he said nobody would remember me. how do you remember me!?" at this point there were tears brimming in peter's eyes.

"well, first of all i'm pretty sure it's just 'doctor' and second of all, i don't know what you're talking about. peter, i came to you for help. for answers. i can't remember what happened to me, and you're the only person i trust anymore," the girl said, a tang of desperation and fear in her voice.

the two of them sat down eventually, on peter's daffodil yellow couch he'd picked . he brought her a cup of tea and they had a mini debriefing.

"so nobody remembers you at all?" she shook her head in shock, "not even may?"

peter's chin fell closer to his chest. he still couldn't say the words without the memory burning his eyes, "aunt may's gone."

the girl stayed silent, a lump forming in her throat. she knew the feeling all too well.

"what about ned, or mj?" she searched.

peter could only shake his head.

she fell silent for only a moment. "so you've been...what? sulking? hiding?"

"people may not remember peter, but that doesn't mean they don't need spider-man," she said sternly. "my dad believed in you and the hope you brought to people. and i know everyone has forgotten, but peter you're special without the mask too. i've seen it firsthand," the girl smiled almost solemnly.

"academic decathlon," peter joked. she rolled her eyes and playfully nudged the boy.

"that's not what i mean. you have a light, peter parker. and a purpose. a will to help others, and the mind, heart, and soul to fulfill it. don't waste it," she urged him.

he shrugged, "well what about you. genius heir to the greatest hero who ever lived. where have you been all this time."

her gaze traced the floorboards, looking for comfort or answers or distraction. something. "i wish i knew."

"I hardly remember. i know i felt out of place, afraid, lost. but that's all that's left. a feeling. i don't remember anything more," she nearly whispered the last part.

"the last thing i recall is-" her throat tightened for a moment rendering her unable to speak. "the last time I saw you." she decided on those simple six words rather than the two that would make her relive it all.

the funeral.

peter nodded slowly.

"look at us. the boy who nobody remembers, and the girl who can't remember anything. we're really shaping up to be the next avengers," he joked.

she laughed, "yeah right. class a heroes. besides, pretty sure i saw something saying they've already got replacements. i will be making plenty of phone calls later."

peter looked over at the girl for a moment. it was nice, almost like old times. he nearly forgot how loneliness had gnawed at his chest day and night.

"i don't know what's going on, or what happened to you. but i promise we'll figure it out. i know what it's like to be alone, and i hope you know that you don't have to be," he promised.

she smiled faintly, "thanks, peter. it's always nice to have a friend."

to be continued...or not we'll see

[oneofstarkskids]

easier

steven grant x reader

genre; fluff

steven never let you stay the night at his flat.

it wasn't that he didn't want you there.

of course he did.

he'd wondered what it might have been like to hold you in his arms and wake up to your smile.

to make you breakfast and plan out your day together.

but he had a very specific bedtime routine. one that any normal person would find very odd.

he didn't trust himself. his mind.

he couldn't be sure that it would be him waking up to you the next morning.

you would never force him into anything he was uncomfortable with, but you worried. what was he so afraid of?

"hey, steven," you asked from your place on his couch as you sipped the english breakfast tea he'd made.

he was distracted, focused on pouring gus the proper amount of flakes. "hm?" he hummed in response.

"it's getting a bit late," you said, noticing clouds forming in the sky, hiding the sunset.

he glanced out the window briefly before nodding nervously, "yeah, it is."

you stood up before making your way over to him.

"so i guess it's time for me to go..." you stopped right in front of him to say goodbye. though it was the last thing you wanted.

he got the crinkle between his brow that he did when he had to make a decision. "or-" he started nervously.

steven took a deep breath, "you could stay. if you want. you don't have to. if that's not something you-"

as he spoke, your eyes brightened and a smile danced across your lips.

"steven, sweetheart. i'd love to," you stopped him before he could ramble any further.

his eyebrows shot up, "you would?"

relief washed over him, you saw it in the way his shoulders became less tense.

"i would," you reassured him sweetly.

he made a noise that was half sigh, half laugh.

"alright then. you're staying," he said out loud, making it real.

as the night went on and the sky got darker, steven only grew more and more anxious.

he tried to stay awake. he made dinner, read a book, chatted with you a bit. took a shower.

but once he was in his comfy clothes, he began to yawn.

"is it time for bed?" you asked teasingly.

he froze, "huh? oh. uh, well, i'm not tired. but if you're tired..."

you weren't convinced. bloodshot eyes, limp muscles, slightly slurred speech. he was exhausted. and you knew he would never admit it.

you let out a fake yawn, "you know what, i am kind of tired. we should probably get to bed now."

he nodded curtly but walked off towards his queen sized bed without saying a word.

you frowned, confused, before following after him.

steven was standing on the side of the bed, arms crossed, "which side do you normally sleep on."

you couldn't help but snicker, "it doesn't matter. i'm fine with either side."

you climbed on to the bed, propping yourself up on your knees to be face to face with him.

for a split second, all of his worries disappeared as he got lost in your eyes.

"come to bed, steven," you whispered, brushing your fingers up his arm.

it was almost like he was in a trance, completely at your will. he climbed into the sheets holding them up as you joined him.

you gently laid your head on his chest, noticing the rapid beat of his heart.

"is everything okay?" you asked, taking his hand in yours to fidget with his fingers.

he swallowed before nodding, as if you could see him.

you craned your neck to look up at him questioningly.

"everything is great, darling. you get some rest now," he told you.

you closed your eyes, "and what about you?"

he smiled sadly, looking down at you. studying the way your eyelashes fluttered ever so slightly.

"i don't sleep much, but next to you... it's easier to try," he admitted before laying back completely and caging you in his arms.

[ohnaaahhh]

exactly what i needed after crying and being upset the entire day...lwk i cried even more reading this bc of how good it was

wonderful read

[oneofstarkskids]

thank you, love!! I hope you're feeling much better today 🫂

[oneofstarkskids]

DIFFERENT

daniel le domas x reader

genre: fluffy

warnings: sexy, but not smut

notes: i'm sorry, but I've been watching horror movies because tis the season, and i have a terrible habit of falling for sad white boys. want to recommend me some more?

he pressed you up against the wooden cabinet, his chest against yours. his eyes lust blown and dark brown.

"I love you," he whispered before trailing kisses up the side of your neck. his lips always seemed to find the spot that made you melt against him without trying.

you let your hands roam until they found his curls. you turned his head towards you, forcing him to kiss your lips instead.

he groaned against you, fingers digging into your hips. "i love you," he said again.

you grinned, pulling out of the kiss slightly to look into those desperate eyes.

"i love you," you said this time, nose brushing against daniel's.

he picked you up, caging your body against his and spinning you around before throwing his head back and shouting, "I LOVE YOU!"

you laughed at his antics, shoving and demanding he put you back down.

though you protested, there was nowhere you'd rather be than in his arms. you'd known daniel since you both were kids. you went to the same private school, a private school you were only able to go attend because your distant aunt owed your parents a favor, and you knew from the moment he gave you his seat at lunch that he wasn't like the other selfish rich boys.

there was a depth to daniel that was hard to find in other people who'd grown up getting everything handed to them.

as if he'd seen the world for what it really was. as if he'd been broken from the beginning.

you'd come to learn much later on, after years of him pushing you away and claiming he felt nothing for you out of fear, that daniel had witnessed evil. the kind that no child should ever have to.

not only that, but he was raised by it. forced into a ritual that made him choose between his family and another human life. if it was truly up to him, he'd choose to be the sacrifice every time. but it never was.

and that darkness sat in his chest. grew with him. the only thing that kept it buried was the booze. until...he found you again. from then on, he'd always told you that you'd made him a new man.

so he made a promise to you. one that he intended to keep. that neither life nor death could separate the two of you...and that he would never marry you.

it was a promise you were grateful for. it meant the two of you could live your lives. together. away from the bullshit. and sure, it pissed his father off and had nearly gotten him cut off several times, but his father never really had that authority.

besides, what else could daniel possibly need when you were his treasure?

you pulled him closer by the tie as he set you back on your feet. sure, the apartment you were living in was shitty. there was mold in the walls and a strange smell coming from the faucets. you weren't going to pretend like it was some perfect paradise.

but you were perfectly in love.

[oneofstarkskids]

I hate racist losers

[critter-of-habit]

Yelena but concept art hair 🤭🩷

[morpho-brain]

🥹 my baby 🌟🌟

[izbnart]

Batman animation yayy 🙌👍

[alkallier]

YOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

[oneofstarkskids]

COOLEST THING IVE EVER SEEN

[oneofstarkskids]

i adore them 🥹 should I make harley's pov?

[ky-landfill]

[oneofstarkskids]

INSANE ARTWORK

[oneofstarkskids]

so damn comfy

remy lebeau x fem!reader

☆ sleepy boyfriend remy * sugar high fluff * no mentions of rogue * no use of y/n * self indulgent 4 am fic * soft!clingy!remy* no smut

remy lebeau was practically dragging himself back home to you. he'd already been exhausted from training. muscles aching, ears ringing. wanting nothing more than to cuddle up next to his girl.

and of course you were wearing his sweatshirt. the soft one that hardly smelled like him at all anymore. he didn't mind.

now it smelled like you.

then you were wrapping him in your arms, slowly sinking further into the memory foam mattress. he couldn't remember when half of his body got swallowed by the pile of blankets.

and then there was the low hum of the television that you seemed to never turn off. your soft giggles as you watched your favorite show.

but what really got to him was the way your fingers combed through his hair. touching every nerve, making his eyelids feel like a ton of bricks.

before he knew it, he couldn't form a coherent sentence. he was falling asleep.

no matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes from rolling back and listen to you talk about your day, everything just seemed to get drowned out by the slow rise and fall of your chest.

"rem?"

"remy?" you repeated.

he hummed, pretending like he simply hadn't heard you.

"do you think it's a good idea?" you asked.

the cajun was completely delirious and had no idea what you were talking about, yet still responded with, "yeah, chere."

you hadn't caught on yet, "i don't know. i guess i'm just worried because-"

you paused as you heard a loud noise that vibrated off your chest.

you craned your neck, looking down to find your boyfriend snoring.

"remy!" you said with mock annoyance. you couldn't possibly be upset with him.

he woke up immediately, blinking in confusion, "yeah?"

"did you hear anything i said?" you said as you gave him a look, already knowing the answer.

"sure, chere. something about, uh..." he paused before groaning and burying his face into you. "'m sorry sweetheart, it's jus been a long day."

you give him a sympathetic smile as you bring your thumb up to brush his cheek.

"and it doesn' help that you're so damn comfy," he flattered.

you shook your head, unable to hide the blush that crept across your cheeks. "you should've just said you were tired," you scolded.

remy gripped onto your sweater with a groan, "i know. but i love listenin' to your voice."

you continued to run your fingers through his hair affectionately, smirking at the way he hummed.

"tell me again. i'll stay awake this time," he promised, but the lazy tone of his voice said otherwise.

you gave in anyway, "alright."

and as you suspected, within the first five sentences he was dead weight.

but you didn't wake him or dare move. he was finally getting his much needed rest.

besides, you knew he'd be right there in the morning begging you to tell him all over again.

but this time, his ruby eyes wouldn't be dimmed or heavy with dark circles.

[oneofstarkskids]

false god

matthew murdock x reader

☆ gender neutral reader * mentions of sexual relationship * friends with benefits * no smut * reader has religious trauma * demisexual reader? * mild angst, ending with fluff * swearing * church setting

disclaimer: this is not meant to disrespect anyone's religion, it's a self-endulged expression of my own experiences and beliefs

your thumb hesitated before the blue bubble showed 'sent'. you'd made quite the effort not to text him first.

to wait, patiently. for a sign, or an explanation. you didn't plan for it. the change.

at first...it was easy. open-mouthed kisses, hands exploring underneath clothing. no strings.

but each moment you spent with matt murdock gave you a deeper glimpse into his soul. there was something else. something other than the sexy lawyer from hell's kitchen.

but you couldn't figure it out, and god knows he wouldn't tell you.

you'd reach for something of value. ask a question that was just a little too personal, and suddenly he's shutting down. sitting up and mumbling, "i've got an early morning," as if you weren't wearing his shirt.

and you would leave, of course. in a huff of frustration, because you'd truly never felt more stupid. stupid for thinking that this could be more than just unbridled lust.

see, the thing about friends with benefits when you're hardly even friends is the lack of a connection. of knowing someone truly. and maybe it was different for other people, but you hated fucking without emotion.

but with matt... there was emotion. even when he tried to deny it, even when you tried to push it down. even though neither of you knew how to process it.

and you thought you'd finally figured it out. for a split second. a kiss that was just a bit different than the desperate frivolous ones the two of you always shared.

which is why it crushed you when he pulled away, breathless but void of any real reaction.

you hadn't seen him since. he hadn't texted or called in weeks, and you were just about to decide to move on when he asked you to meet him in the middle of the night.

of course, you assumed it was for the usual rendezvous. but then, he sent you the address of a church. which was...concerning.

regardless, you were curious. okay, maybe you were also desperate to see his face again. chiseled cheek bones, pouty lips, vacant brown eyes.

so there you were, walking through the aisle of the sanctuary for the first time since you were forced to come as a kid.

a beautiful mosaic of christ stood at the front, stretching out across the entire wall just behind the altar.

and in the front row of the pews, there was a silhouette you couldn't forget if you tried.

you made your way over to him, whispering his name as if you weren't the only two in the building.

and of course, he didn't need you to let him know you were here, he heard your heels clacking softly against the cobblestone steps just outside.

"please. have a seat," he waved towards the spot beside him, his other hand gripping his knee like a vice.

you did, partially because you wanted to see where this was going and partially because your legs were aching from walking six blocks.

but as you sat, he stayed silent. the minute it took him to start speaking felt like five.

"this is weird, right? you're probably confused," he sighed.

you looked down at the ground, "well, i was a little surprised when you texted to meet up. in a church, no less."

he let out a breathy laugh, "yeah."

but it wasn't funny.

"i felt like i owed you something. an explanation maybe. because i was giving mixed signals, and i get it...if you hate me," he started.

you listened intently. of course you didn't hate him. you weren't sure you ever could.

"but i'm...not the kind of man you think i am. i'm not even the kind of man you deserve," he said, letting his head fall.

"and no matter how much I'm starting to...feel for you..." he paused, gathering his words. "i can't disappoint you by pretending i'm anything more than the monster that lives in me."

your brows pinched together and you snaked your fingers into his, "matt, you're not a monster."

he squeezed, "but that's the thing. i am. i try to be a good person. to justify the mistakes. make up for the past."

"but it's a part of me. and i don't want that part of me to find its way out. i don't want- i can't hurt you," he finished.

you looked around the gilded building, the structures that looked like they'd stood tall for centuries. the peaceful nature of it all despite the anxiousness it brought you from years of religious trauma.

"you're not the only one who has demons, matt. you can't get rid of your darkness anymore than you can take away my own. and it's not your fault..." you stopped to make sure he was listening. really listening.

"i didn't have an easy childhood. there were things i had to suffer that no child ever should. things that left me broken."

you subconsciously turned towards him a bit more, "if there's one thing i've learned it's that, once something is broken like that... you can't fix it. you can clean up the mess. you can throw away the shards so you don't end up cutting yourself on them, but you never get that back."

"i don't care what kind of monster you think you are, matt. i want you. all of you. even if i have to help you clean up the pieces," and you could tell he heard the strangled pain in your voice by the way that he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. his hand was wrapped around the back of your head, holding you impossibly close.

"i'm sorry that you ever had to feel broken," he whispered.

you let your forehead fall against his, "what else are you sorry for?"

he arched a brow, eyes trained in front of him, on nothing at all.

"not talking about the unspoken thing between us sooner?" matt asked.

you couldn't stop the giggle that pushed past your lips, "why was that a question?"

he shook his head, "i don't know. i'm an idiot."

you took the opportunity to rest your head on his firm shoulder, fingers still intertwined, "well we can't all have genius boyfriends."

he froze, muscles stiffening. you weren't even aware it was possible for him to feel even more like a rock.

you instantly regretted letting it slip. too soon. too much.

your mind already ran through every scenario, every response, and had begun planning the fastest track to get over a breakup with a boy you never technically dated.

"boyfriend," he said with a smirk, pulling you from your crazy train.

you buried your face in your hands, "i'm sorry! it slipped."

matt held both of your hands in his, "i like it."

you began to think that maybe all that stuff that was shoved down your throat as a kid wasn't entirely wrong. maybe love was real. just maybe, so was fate.

it seemed like the only plausible explanation for a man like this one to find you.

[oneofstarkskids]

hair holds memories

pairings: WLW!! yelena belova x reader

summary: you're beside yelena through the highs and through the lows. or in this case, the long and the short.

warnings: mentions of natasha romanoff's death :(

genre: heart wrenching fluff

yelena was the only one for you in this universe. and though you'd never seen any others, you were sure you'd found each other in every single one.

you loved her.

you loved her so much that you learned how to hold her without saying a word when she found out her sister was dead. you loved her so much that you told her to do whatever she felt needed to be done when she was given a contract for natasha's alleged killer.

you loved her so much you let her push you away when revenge consumed her. you loved her so much you welcomed her back with open arms when she found out the truth about nat's death. you loved her even when it hurt.

and sometimes it really fucking hurt.

but sometimes it was just the two of you.

no assignments. no grudges. just two smitten women cuddled up in their poorly lit apartment.

today was one of those days. she'd been going through a box of pictures on the floor of your living room as you affectionately brushed her hair out of her face with your fingers.

she held one for a moment longer than the others. a photo of her and natasha, from the last time she'd even spoken to her sister.

she'd been on the run, dyed her naturally cherry red hair blonde and cut it to her chin.

the two of them were keeping a low profile at an outdoor bar in a town nobody knew the name of. catching up.

so they sat, sharing beers like always and joking about how fucked up their lives were. it was around that time that yelena had started carrying a little digital camera for moments like that.

"you know, if you ever need help with anything," yelena had told her sister. but of course she didn't need help. she was natasha romanoff. she'd figure it out the same way she always did. alone.

she told you it was because her mother, melina, had kept a scrapbook when she was a kid. when she was still innocent and oblivious to the world around her. to the pain.

and after everything had fallen apart, she never saw that scrapbook again. you liked to think her pictures made her feel that innocence again. that blissful ignorance.

maybe they even helped her pretend like life was a collection of little happy moments, rather than soul shocking grief.

you felt her back deflate against your legs as she sighed, setting the photo down and looking up at you. you smiled at the sight of her, pretty green eyes, long lashes and blonde tendrils framing her face.

you brushed your thumb against her cheekbone, "what's up, pretty girl?" she gave you a look, one that told you this was a serious conversation, "can you do something for me?"

your brows furrowed together as you prepared yourself, nervous for what she was going to say next.

"can you cut my hair?" she asked like a kid asking their parent for something at the store, positive they were going to say no.

you let out a relieved chuckle, "of course, sweetheart."

she smiled, gazing at you with appreciation before jumping up to go find everything you needed. you watched her walk away for a moment with a smile on your face, then stood up to follow after her.

the two of you ended up in your bathroom, hair ties and scissors littering the counter. you stood behind her, combing through her long tangles.

"how short were you thinking?" you ask. you hadn't expected her to reach in her pocket and pull out the photo of natasha from earlier.

the sight brought tears to your eyes, and because you knew your voice would crack if you spoke, you placed a kiss on her shoulder and got to work.

it took a few youtube videos and hours of perfecting and maybe you'd cut it a bit shorter than nat's was, but it would grow and as you finished up yelena looked into the mirror with tears in her eyes.

"what's wrong? i'm sorry, i should've warned you that i'm not a hairdresser," you said in a frenzied panic.

she laughed as warm tears ran down her cheeks, face beaming with joy. yelena turned around to look into your eyes and held your face in her hands, "i love it. i love you."

she rested her forehead against yours, whispering thank yous as your hands made their way into her newly short hair.

it was unfamiliar and you would miss braiding it before bed at night, but it was still soft, still golden, still...yelena.

"do you like it?" she asked, almost as if she was reading your mind. you laughed, bewildered by the fact that even yelena belova could be worried about trivial things.

"it's not funny! it's a serious question," she said, her adorable russian accent failing to help her case.

you shook your head. "you're right! it's not funny, and i think...you look pretty hot," you said with a smirk.

"oh really, детка?" she pulled you closer somehow. your brain short circuited and you nearly didn't register her next words.

"hot enough to get a new girlfriend?" she asked slyly.

nearly.

"lena! i just cut your hair for you," you gasp playfully. "that's practically a marriage proposal."

her face contorted in disbelief, "it definitely is not!"

you gave her a look but she ignored you, deciding to search for the broom to start sweeping up the pile of hair on your bathroom floor.

"and i will be expecting a proper marriage proposal when the time comes," she said sneakily the moment she was down the hall and out of sight.

you practically melted, chasing after her, "and when exactly should i start planning?"

[aquaticmercy]

Lipstick Stains

Summary : You leave lipstick marks on Bucky’s face.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x wife!reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : fluff, slightly suggestive content, canon-typical violence, please let me know if I missed anything.

Word count : 2.8k

Note : I didn’t post at all last week because I was busy viewing wedding venues, and we’ve finally picked one, so that’s a big weight off our shoulders lol. I’ll be updating my taglist, masterlist, and replying to asks very soon. In the meantime, I’ve queued this up while watching Fantastic Four, so… enjoy!

The morning was chaos, as always. 

You were already finished with your cereal and halfway through your coffee, trying to wrestle your foot into a pair of your favourite flats when you realised you were running late. 

Bucky’s slice of toast had been sitting in the toaster for the past seven minutes because you couldn’t find your lanyard. Your phone was only thirty percent charged. You’d only slept four hours. And your husband was—

“—way too calm for someone who’s also late,” you muttered as Bucky emerged from the bathroom, toweling his hair and wearing nothing but his dog tags and a pair of black boxer briefs.

He smirked. “You’re staring, sweets.”

“I’m stressed,” you snapped, stepping over a pile of clean laundry. 

He chuckled, walking barefoot to the kitchen island and stealing your half-full mug of coffee like it was his God-given right.

“Did you take my last granola bar too?” you asked, rifling through the cabinets.

“Nope,” he said between sips. “You ate that last night when I fell asleep on the couch.”

You stopped mid-step, hands on your hips, about to give him hell—when you noticed the little box he was holding behind his back.

“Buck.”

“Hm?”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

“James.”

He grinned, then revealed the box — matte black, small, with a thin satin ribbon around it. You immediately recognized the luxury brand embossed in gold across the top. You blinked, confused.

“What…” you started, walking toward him slowly.

Bucky shrugged casually, but his eyes were almost shy. “It’s just... a thing. Just because.”

You stared. “That’s… the lipstick? The one I’ve wanted for months?”

“The exact shade, darlin’” — he sounded proud — “Figured you might like to wear it today. Y’know. For your big meeting with the board,” he said, stepping closer, trailing both metal and human fingers down your arm and pressing kisses, “and maybe let me kiss it off tonight.”

Oh.

Your stomach flipped.

You reached out, pulling the ribbon, and opened the box. The lipstick sat nestled in velvet, a rich shade of red that reminded you of another era. You lifted carefully, like it might break if you touched it with too much force— it was very expensive, after all. 

“I can’t believe you remembered,” you whispered, brushing your thumb across the cap.

“I remember everything about you,” he said, that dangerous rasp curling into your ear.

Even after all these years, your cheeks flushed, heat pooling in your stomach. “Bucky, we have to leave in ten minutes.”

“We’ve done worse things in five,” he whispered, lips brushing the side of your neck.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying... if you wanted to try it out right now, I wouldn’t mind.”

You smacked his chest, though lightly. “If you don’t stop trying to seduce me, we are not leaving this apartment today.”

He grinned and backed away with both his hands up. “Fair.”

You turned to the mirror by the entryway and carefully uncapped the lipstick. You smoothed the deep crimson shade over your lips, and it went on like a velvety and bold dream.

You turned back toward him. “Well?”

Bucky looked like he’d been punched in the chest.

“Holy shit.”

“Too much?”

“No.” His voice was hoarse. “That’s… that your colour.”

You stepped toward him slowly, lips parted just slightly, eyes flicking up to his. He grabbed you by the waist before you could reply, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that had been simmering under his skin since he walked out of the bathroom with no top on. He smiled against your mouth, triumphant, as you wound your arms around his neck and let him deepen the kiss.

Then you pulled back and planted one kiss on his jaw. Another on his cheek. One right under his ear, just to hear him groan. Then one more, on one of his eyebrows, because he was finally frowning at the time on the microwave.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I really do have to go.”

You were laughing as you grabbed your coat and swiped your bag from the floor. “I’m always right.”

He was still blinking in a daze as you passed him.

“What?” you asked.

“Did you… did you leave a mark?”

You paused, cocking your head. “…maybe.”

“I have a briefing,” he whined dramatically, touching his face with metal fingers.

You shrugged. “You’ll survive. Tell the team I say hi.”

He jogged after you, grabbing his jacket and boots. “You are so lucky I love you.”

“I know,” you said, kissing him once more on the lips, just to reapply the color.

You opened the door and winked. “Now go, Sergeant. Before I drag you back to bed and ruin both our careers.”

He didn’t move for a second.

Just stood there, watching you walk away, cheeks flushed, all kissed up, no thoughts whatsoever in his mind as he looked at the lipstick smudge on his collarbone in the distorted reflection of your stainless steel pan.

—

Once you were gone. Bucky rushed into the bathroom mirror, and it showed exactly what he expected.

Your new lipstick stain, bolder than he would imagine.

It was smeared like war paint along his jaw and neck. One kiss was just below his ear, slightly angled like you’d pulled him down by the collar. Another was fainter, near his cheekbone.

“Fuck,” Bucky muttered.

He yanked the hem of his black long-sleeve shirt up and scrubbed at his jaw. He loved that color on you, and loved that he could still feel the drag of your lips across his skin, but the team would drag him to the ground.

He wiped again, a little too hard this time. A faint pink patch came off on his shirt, but the rest stayed stubbornly in place like a brand.

“Shit,” he muttered again, but it was too late now. 

He had a work briefing to go to.

—

The elevator dinged in the watchtower. 

He adjusted his jacket, popped the collar up slightly to shield the worst of it, and rolled his shoulders back as he stepped into the new, refurbished Avengers briefing room.

The calm lasted about four seconds.

“Jesus, Barnes,” Yelena said, looking up from her tablet. “You wrestle a lipstick monster on your way in?”

The entire room froze for a second.

John blinked before letting out a low whistle. “Oh damn.”

Alexei squinted. “What... is that paint?”

Bob Reynolds raised his hand like they were in a classroom. “No, those are lip stains! Most likely from his lovely wife that brings us cookies once a week.”

Bucky clenched his teeth and sighed. “You people need hobbies.”

Ava’s tone was flat as ever. “We do have hobbies. One of them is watching you walk into meetings like you just rolled out of bed with your wife still attached to your face.”

John burst out laughing. “I mean, fair. It’s kind of impressive.”

Bucky reached up slowly and tried to rub his thumb over the spot near his ear. Still there. Of course.

He exhaled through his nose. “I wiped it off.”

“You tried to wipe it off,” Yelena corrected, standing up and walking around the table to inspect him like a forensic analyst. “That’s high-end lipstick. Long-wear. Transfer-proof, so clearly she kissed you when it was still drying.”

“She did it on purpose,” Ava said casually, arms crossed. “You can tell. Look at the placement. That’s a ‘he belongs to me’ kiss. And that one”—she pointed—“is downright territorial.”

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek, suddenly remembering the way you smiled as you kissed each spot on his face that morning. Like a map. 

He had to look away from his own reflection in the polished black table. His skin was warm now. His ears were hot. His neck… was tingling.

John clapped him on the shoulder. “So this is how married life is treating you, Barnes.”

Bucky didn’t answer. 

The truth, though?

He was starting to like it.

No — he loved it.

The more he looked at his reflection, the more loved seeing the lipstick on his skin the way it clung to him even after he scrubbed at it like a sinner trying to wash off guilt. The possessiveness in it. The heat it left behind. The way it made him feel like you’d staked a claim on him trying — just by pressing your mouth to his skin, casually.

God, that made his knees weak.

He dragged a hand down his face and tried to clear his head, but he could still feel the phantom weight of your hands in his hair, tugging just slightly. The scent of your perfume still clung to his jacket. The taste of your mouth lingered on his lips like honey.

And now, thanks to your indestructible lipstick and a complete lack of shame, he was sitting in a military-grade conference room looking like he’d been devoured alive by his wife.

And he wanted more.

He wanted to walk into battle with your lipstick on his jawline. He wanted the world to see he had something — someone — worth coming home to.

Yelena slid back into her seat and gave him a knowing grin. “So. You want us to pretend we didn’t see it, or...?”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Pretend away.”

Bob leaned over, stage-whispering, “Don’t worry, man. If I had a wife who kissed like that, I wouldn’t wipe it off either.”

—

The mission was supposed to be routine.

Get in, extract intel, maybe break a few bones. It was a Hydra splinter cell — the wannabes, fanatics, and leftovers still pretending their little empire wasn't in ruins.

But no one warned them that James Buchanan Barnes was showing up with red lipstick smeared across his face.

—

20 Minutes Into Infiltration

The base was buried in some frozen forest.

Bucky didn’t care.

He moved like a shadow through the corridors, metal arm whirring. But it wasn’t the weapon in his hand that made the first patrol unit freeze.

It was his face.

Or, more specifically … the kiss marks on it.

One print glowed faint red under the stark fluorescent lighting, right beneath his cheekbone. Another peeked out just above his collar. A third bold and shameless one sat on his eyebrows. 

“What the hell…” muttered one of the guards, gun wavering.

“Is that… lipstick?” another whispered, confused. “Is he—“

“I think someone got lucky this morning.”

“I think we’re about to get beat up.”

And they were right.

Bucky didn’t say a word. He just smiled, thinking I’ve got nothing to prove — but I’m going to make this hurt anyway.

Three seconds later, the hallway was a pile of bodies— cracked ribs, dislocated shoulders, and a shattered femur, probably. The last guy was still groaning when Bucky knelt beside him, blood dripping down his temple.

“The drive,” Bucky growled, pressing the cold frost of his fist to the guy’s shirt. “Where is it?”

The guy coughed. Eyes wide. “Y-You’ve got… lipstick on your face.”

Bucky blinked once.

“Yeah, well.” Bucky hissed proudly. “My wife kissed me goodbye.”

The Hydra agent whimpered. “...Lucky bastard.”

—

40 Minutes In, Main Control Room

The alarm was blaring. Red lights flashed like strobe against the concrete walls. Another squad of agents waited in a semicircle with their weapons raised. They were prepared.

Then Bucky stepped through the smoke.

And for a split second, they hesitated.

Because he wasn’t just battle-worn — he looked like he’d come straight from someone’s bed. Hair mussed. Collar half-popped. Face kissed like a trophy, yet with blood on his knuckles.

“Is this a joke?” one of the agents sneered. “You show up looking like you fucked a runway model?”

Another tilted his head. “That lipstick waterproof or what?”

“Why don’t you come find out?” Bucky deadpanned.

Then he dove straight into the fray.

His fists moved like they were born for it — metal arm catching one throat, organic arm snapping another wrist. Someone tried to tase him and he drove an elbow into their ribs hard enough to lift them off the ground.

The whole time, the lipstick stayed.

One agent tried to mock him mid-fight. “Does your wife know you’re out here fucking up people with her makeup on?”

Bucky shoved him against the wall, face inches away.

“She picked the shade,” he growled.

Then he headbutted the guy so hard he dropped like a ragdoll.

—

The last Hydra grunt was backed against the server wall, his eyes wide.

“Y-You’re fucking insane,” he stammered. “You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. You’re someone’s pet.”

Bucky tilted his head.

He leaned in close, giving the guy a good long look at the smeared lipstick still faintly on his cheek — a little smudged now with sweat and blood, but still there.

“No,” Bucky said, voice low and lethal. “I’m her husband.”

And then he knocked the guy out cold and completed the mission. 

—

It was past midnight when you heard the key turn at the front door.

You were curled up on the couch, hair tied up, reading the same paragraph on your annual report for the fourth time — half waiting, half trying not to stare at the clock.

Then you heard a heavy pair of boots, followed by the thud of a tactical jacket hitting the floor, and you didn’t even have to look up.

He was home. 

“Buck?"

He let out a tired grunt.

You stood, moving toward the hallway, just as he stepped into view, sweaty, bruised, and a bit wrecked, with blood on his forearm and gravel in his hair.

And still… wearing your lipstick marks.

The marks were faded now, but still unmistakably there.

You blinked, covering your mouth to stifle the giggle that bubbled up. “Oh my God.”

He looked up, eyes heavy, mouth tugging into a sleepy smirk. “Tried to wipe it.”

“I know.” You grinned. “Bob messaged me. Didn’t know it was that bad.”

Bucky chuckled, as he kicked his boots off. “Of course he did.”

Then, he walked right into you, his arms wrapped tight around your waist, head ducked against your neck and just held you.

You barely had time to react. “Hi—Whoa. Okay. Hi.”

His body felt like home against yours, metal arm sliding up your spine as he practically lifted you off the couch, burying his nose into your shoulder.

You laughed softly, hugging him back. “You okay?”

He nodded, murmuring into your skin. “Mhm. Just needed this.”

“You smell like shit.”

“And you smell like home,” he murmured, voice gone hoarse.

“Rough mission?” you asked, brushing your fingers through his hair.

Bucky hummed again, nodding lazily. “Got messy. One of ‘em asked if the lipstick was waterproof.”

You laughed. “And?”

“I broke his nose.”

“Good man.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes half-lidded. “They all saw it, babe. Saw me like this.”

You smiled and smoothed your hand over his beard. “I think it’s hot.”

That got his attention. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “You, showing up to a mission marked by me? Of course.”

He looked like he was about to melt into the floor.

“I really love you,” he mumbled.

“I really love you too, especially with this lipstick,” you teased, brushing your thumb over the faint smudge near his eyebrows. “This one held up through gunfire and hand-to-hand combat. I’m impressed.”

“I didn’t really want to wipe it off,” he admitted sheepishly, voice gentler now. “Even when I saw it in the mirror. I tried, but… not that hard.”

You grinned. “You liked it, huh?”

Bucky pressed his forehead against yours, and you felt the tiniest, almost embarrassed nod on skin. 

You reached up and gently tilted his chin, eyes tracing the places where your kisses had landed. His skin was flushed, warm, bruised in places — but somehow, the lipstick was still the first thing you saw.

You leaned in and kissed his cheek again, just beside the original print.

Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut, and a rumbled  content from his chest, almost like a purr.

"You're clingy," you whispered fondly.

"M'happy," he mumbled. “Mission’s done. You’re here. Your kisses are still on me.”

You ran your hands up under his shirt, feeling the scarred skin, the steady heartbeat. “Come to bed, baby.”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

You blinked. “No?”

“I just wanna hold you for a bit,” he said, walking backward and pulling you with him toward the couch. 

So you curled up on the couch again — this time with a super soldier wrapped around you like a weighted blanket. His arm tucked under your legs, his nose against your collarbone, his sigh on your skin.

Every few minutes, he kissed your neck or your shoulder or the inside of your wrist, like he couldn’t stop.

Eventually, his lips brushed your ear. “Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“You think, since it’s a rest day…” he paused thoughtfully. “Maybe I could try the lipstick tomorrow? Kiss you up before your work.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “That’s... kind of hot, Buck.”

-end.

Request Guidelines

Masterlist

General Bucky taglist:

@hotlinepanda @snflwr-vol6 @ruexj283 @2honeybees @read-just-cant

 @shanksstrawhat @mystictf @globetrotter28 @thebuckybarnesvault @average-vibe

@winchestert101 @mystictf @globetrotter28 @boy--wonder--187 @scariusaquarius

@reckless007 @hextech-bros @daydreamgoddess14 @96jnie @pono-pura-vida

@buckyslove1917 @notsostrangerthing @flow33didontsmoke @qvynrand @blackbirdwitch22

@torntaltos @seventeen-x @ren-ni @iilsenewman @slayerofthevampire

@hiphip-horray @jbbucketlist @melotyy @ethereal-witch24 @samfunko

@lilteef @hi172826 @pklol @average-vibe @shanksstrawhat

@shower-me-with-roses @athenabarnes @scarwidow @thriving-n-jiving @dilfsaresohot

@helloxgoodbi @undf-stuff @sapphirebarnes @hzdhrtss @softhornymess

@samfunko @wh1sp @anonymousreader4d7 @mathcat345 @escapefromrealitylol

@imjusthere1161 @sleepysongbirdsings @fuckybarnes @yn-stories-are-my-life @rIphunter

@cjand10 @nerdreader @am-3-thyst @wingstoyourdreams @lori19

@goldengubs @maryevm @helen-2003 @maryssong23 @fan4astic

@yesshewrites1 @thewiselionessss @sangsterizada @jaderabbitt @softpia 

@hopeofwinter @nevereclipse @tellybearryyyy @buckybarneswife125

@imaginecrushes @phoenixes-and-wizards @rowanthomasknapp @daystarpoet @thefandomplace

@biaswreckedbybuckybarnes @herejustforbuckybarnes @kitasownworld @shortandb1tchy @roxyym

@badl4nder @natalia42069 @silverdoragon @juliet-is-the-sun12 @nightlight486

[oneofstarkskids]

this is everything. hot, needy, fluffy. ugh! I'll take ten pls

[oneofstarkskids]

pulling her under

pairings: VALCAROL (valkyrie x carol danvers) aka my otp

genre: um? wlw yearning?

warnings: none

notes: PIRATE X MERMAID AU!! these are my girls and this fic was just something really random that i thought of. hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!!

valkyrie was drifting off, the wind kissing her cheeks and rippling her clothes.

her dirty boots were propped up on a wooden crate, taking the weight off her feet.

she had a beer in one hand, the other arm strung lazily across the side of the boat.

"captain?" a voice called, rudely dragging her out of her slumber.

she groaned before peeking one eye open. it was korg, in all his sedimentary glory.

"meek and i were just wonderin' what you wanted us to do with the rest of the catch? you see..." he kept going, but she'd tuned him out, standing up and walking away without listening.

drink in hand of course.

her boots clomped as she made her way to the quarterdeck where her right hand man was at the helm, carefully steering the ship.

with a silver ring dangling from his ear and smudged black liner stood loki, the mischievous. the daring. the most ruthless pirate.

someone she respected enough to be in her crew, on her ship, but never fully trusted.

"i trust we're headed in the right direction?" captain valkyrie expected rather than asked.

loki flashed her a devilish grin, "perhaps. or i may simply be leading you into my carefully curated trap where i throw you all overboard and leave you for dead."

she took a swig of the drink, savoring the burn it left as it went down, "wouldn't be much of a trap if you just told me your entire plan, now would it?"

he laughed, something awful and conniving, "that's where you're wrong. the best traps are the ones you see coming, but can't find your way out of."

she glared at him sideways, "can you find your way out of the edge of my sword?"

loki gripped his heart with one of his steering hands, "you wound me, captain."

she mocked him in turn with a smirk, "not yet i don't."

just then the ship rocked forward. valkyrie had to grip onto one of the posts to keep from getting thrown off deck.

the sky that had been clear mere seconds ago now cracked with thunder.

"are we on course?" she shouted, voice gravely.

loki was glaring into the clouds, defiant of the death it threatened to the entire crew. "headed right into siren's swell." he yelled back.

she quickly took the rolled up map out of the loop on her belt and unfolded it, still being rocked back and forth by the increasingly raging waves.

her eyes darted frantically all over the map until she found the words 'siren's swell'.

the spot had a red line marked right through it, along with pictures of jagged rocks and a deadly looking tail with razor sharp edges inked into the paper.

cold dread washed over her as she realized she had no idea what to expect.

"hey, captain. i don't mean to overstep, but i have reason to believe we're heading into dangerous territory." korg said, coming out of nowhere and offering his oh-so obvious observation.

val strained, fighting the urge to respond with something sarcastic.

as if on cue, the entire ship jolted and cracked as if it hit something in the water.

"shit!" she cursed as she rushed to the edge of the boat and searched the black depths below her.

for a split second she could've sworn she saw...well, she wasn't really sure.

something reflective. iridescent. like scales.

which was alarming because any creature that could survive in these condition wasn't the kind she wanted to encounter.

she hurried back over to loki, "how fast can you get us out of this?"

he pulled out a telescope, stretching it out and peering past the fog, "it's about half a mile out. even if we were able to clear the storm, there's probably significant damage to the keel. we're too far out from shore."

as captain, the woman weighed her options. her crew was family and the last thing she wanted was to risk their lives. but they'd given up so much to get this far. they couldn't turn back now. not when they were so close.

"alright. stay on track," she decided.

loki's eyebrows knit together, "did you not hear a word i just said?"

she nodded, eyes focused on the creaking boards beneath her feet, "i heard. and if you're suggesting we take a poll, I'm almost certain the waves would take us out before you got an answer."

loki laughed, something a bit more genuine than usual, "through hell or high water. aye, captain?"

she looked over at him for a moment. there was an adventurous glint in his eyes.

her own burned with tears she failed to blink back. "hell or high water," she muttered in response for what may have been the last time.

loki began steering the boat straight ahead, calling on the all-father under his breath.

the waves were rough but the crew stayed afloat. it wasn't until they were nearing the end of the disaster that the ship rocked forward again, letting out a groan.

loki had determination painted across his features.

valkyrie was helping the others, tugging at the masts.

but it was all deemed futile as a wave rolled higher and higher, crashing down over the ship.

it happened so fast, she wasn’t sure when she lost her balance or at which point she got thrown into the blue abyss.

she wasn’t sure whose strangled cry she managed to hear over the clap of thunder.

valkyrie just sank, her gold accessories weighing her down. she thrashed and kicked, swimming her way to the top.

her head bobbed above the surface long enough for her to see korg floating by on a loose plank, one arm reaching for meek.

but the current wrapped around her and dragged her back down, drowning any shred of hope she had left.

it was quiet there in those pitch-black depths. peaceful in a way that almost made her forget she was dying.

fighting became so exhausting that letting the water invade her lungs sounded like mercy.

she closed her eyes, ready to accept her fate. a gruesome one for which she was entirely to blame.

but then a blinding beam of gold shone through her eyelids. she tried reopening them, but the light flooded the darkness, so bright that a silhouette was all she could make out.

the figure slowly drifted closer, in a dreamlike way that made val question if she had already crossed over to the other side.

with each passing second she lost more oxygen, more will to live. so when the creature stopped mere inches from her face and caressed her cheek, she didn’t even flinch.

her head rolled forward as she began to lose consciousness, but just before the darkness seeped into her mind, she caught a glimpse of familiar scales.

iridescent.

realizing valkyrie was no longer breathing, the creature wrapped its arms around the captain, pulling the cold body through the waters at an unimaginable speed.

val woke up on a sandy shore, her locs spread around her head like a halo. she gasped for air, eyes snapping open as she took in the vast, endless sky above.

after turning onto her side to let water spill from her mouth, she sputtered and coughed.

her gaze then trailed to the woman hovering nearby, hair like sun-kissed sand and sparkling brown doe eyes.

valkyrie had never seen anyone more… ethereal.

as if in a trance, she reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind the woman’s ear.

then a sudden thought made her blush. the idea that this woman had saved her life. arms wrapped around her, lips pressed softly against her own, the woman’s breath becoming her lifeline.

the blonde looked at her with a sadness val couldn’t quite unravel.

the flop of skin against water pulled her from her curiosity. her head craned to pinpoint the source of the sound, and what she saw made her scramble back in shock.

a five-foot tail with paper-thin fins splashed against the rushing water, glittering in the sunlight.

as valkyrie stared, the pieces finally clicked into place.

“siren,” val cursed shakily, staggering to her feet.

“wait,” the blonde spoke, her voice like an angel’s echo.

and for some unspoken reason, valkyrie obeyed, compelled by the creatures allure.

"i need to know your name," the siren said with a vulnerable ache in her voice.

val stood conflicted, years of conditioning screaming at her.

where she was from, sirens were known to curse souls and enchant the innocent, luring them to their deaths.

but this woman seemed to be none of those things.

all val saw was sincerity. someone who risked everything to save her.

there was a strange magnetism between them, causing val's fingertips to twitch at her sides.

almost as if it was taking all of her willpower to not take a step closer.

"brunnhilde," she breathed, voice barely above a whisper.

the woman's pink coral lips spread into a gentle smile, one so sweet that it made val's chest tighten.

"carol," the blonde said in return, voice soft like the wind above the waves.

she reached for val's hand, fingers icy from the saltwater, before pulling her back down to her level.

valkyrie knelt before her, still completely stunned and in awe.

the mermaid placed a featherlight kiss across the pirate's ring-decorated knuckles.

valkyrie's breath hitched and she was back in the depths of the ocean.

dizzy, unmoored, and completely at the will of fate.

only it wasn't the water pulling her under.

it was carol.

but as quickly as the touch came, it vanished.

with one last longing gaze, the creature dove back into the water, golden hair glowing as she disappeared beneath the surface.

valkyrie collapsed to her knees, as if she could feel the absence of the woman like a rift between them.

all she had to show for it was the ghost of the mermaid's lingering touch against her palms, rippling beneath her skin like an unspoken spell.

she barely registered the crunch of twigs behind her.

"captain?" it was loki's voice, thick with surprise and relief.

she turned around slowly, eyes wide and glossy, brimming with tears.

realization struck her...

a siren had left her cursed after all. cursed to exist. denied a world she was allowed a glimpse into but could never be a part of.

[oneofstarkskids]

professional

clark kent x fem!reader

genre: hella fluff, slow burn!!!

summary: what starts out as a quick visit ends up with you staying the night at your coworkers apartment.

warnings: sexual desire??

note: i saw superman (2025) today and got straight to writing. !!no spoilers!!

2k-ish words

it was another late night at the daily planet. you had stayed after hours, organizing the stack of piles on your desk and making sure tomorrow's articles were ready to go out.

the yellow glow of a desk lamp was the only thing illuminating the room, besides the metropolis light pollution just outside of the large office windows.

as you set aside the last of the prints, you noticed a briefcase leaning against the legs of the desk across from yours.

you didn't need to see the KENT plaque just above the clasp to know it was clark's.

he'd been working on something new this morning too and all of his research was probably still laying between the dividers of that brown case.

so you did the polite thing and tucked it under your arm before locking up the building.

as soon as you stepped outside it began pouring rain. just your luck. you tried calling him, but it kept going straight to voicemail.

you went back through your text messages to the day clark had sent you his address for a gift you had mailed him. nothing special.

just a new pencil sharpener. every article at the bugle was typed up and then printed, but clark preferred to do things the old fashioned way.

he'd write out all of his thoughts, scratch things out, crumble up the really poorly written papers, and then type up the fully revised version.

the only problem was, all he had was this tiny handheld sharpener that had seen hell and back. so, you bought him a new one. as a 'thank you' for supporting you and sticking up to perry when you were first starting out.

you scrolled until you found the location pin. was it rude and probably inappropriate to show up to your co-workers house in the middle of the night, unannounced? maybe.

but hopefully clark would see your intentions for what they were. to return a belonging to a friend.

it was a bit of a walk, but you seemed to be distracted the entire time. were you really just helping out? being a good coworker?

or not-so deep down, was there another reason you were making your way to his place this late?

it didn't matter.

before you knew it, you were standing at his door soaked from head to toe.

he nearly opened the door before you had a chance to knock, saying your name with surprise.

"what are you doing here?" he asked, adjusting his glasses.

you shifted from foot to foot a bit as you held the briefcase out to him, "you left this at the planet. thought you might need it."

he looked over it for a moment before taking it from you. his fingers brushed yours as he reached for it, sending a shiver through your entire body.

clark seemed to notice, then took note of how drenched you were, "did you walk here in the rain?" he asked almost rhetorically.

"yeah, but it's not that far," you said with a smile, contradicting the rosy color of your nose.

clark's dark brows pinched together, trying to understand why you would've done such a thing.

he stepped aside, letting the door swing open, "i have towels and you really should change into something...warmer."

he swallowed, noticing that your pencil skirt and blouse were now clinging to your skin from the rain.

"that's really sweet, but i should probably get home," you said with a soft smile, but his arctic blue eyes could've convinced you otherwise on their own.

"you could get hypothermia. i wouldn't be able to forgive myself," clark said.

you let yourself laugh, it always seemed easier around him, "alright then."

you walked into the apartment, following after him as he went on a hunt for towels.

by the time you'd made it to the bedroom, he'd already set one out along with a pair of his clothes.

"i don't know how well they'll fit, but i figure it's better than wet clothes," he says with his signature grin.

you brush your hair out of your face before whispering a thank you, and that's when you notice how close he is. towering over you and only a few inches away.

your heart seems to beat a little faster.

clark looks down at your chest and blushes suddenly before clearing his throat. "i should probably...sorry. the room's all yours," he mumbles awkwardly before stepping out.

as you get changed, you can't help playing the interaction in your head over and over.

clark is the sweetest man you've ever met. he's insanely talented, really intelligent, and genuinely funny. and yet, there's always something in the way.

something you can't quite see, but feel. on paper, he's perfect. but something tells you there's more to clark kent than he lets on.

now draped in his oversized t-shirt and sweatpants that you had to triple fold over, you leave the room.

he's only a few steps away, in the kitchen, pouring hot water over a blue mug.

"i wanted to make sure you had something warm before you go," he said without looking up.

you involuntarily blushed at his considerate nature, "thanks."

he handed you the mug, "careful. it's hot."

"coffee?" you asked hopefully before peeking into the ceramic cup.

he gave you an apologetic look, "tea."

you snickered at his expression before blowing on the beverage to cool it down.

clark leaned against the counter with one arm.

you tried your best to focus on the drink. to not notice the way the muscles in his biceps rippled from holding his weight. to not let your eyes linger on the veins in his forearm too long. or the way his palm was spread out over the marble-

a loud buzz interrupted, yanking you out of your thoughts.

clark raised his eyebrows, reaching for the phone in his pocket. "looks like a flash flood watch," he said quietly.

your fingers curl aroud the mug nervously.

he noticed this, looking down at you sympathetically. "hey, it's going to be okay."

"but...you should probably stay here for the night. if you're comfortable with that, of course," he stutters.

you think it over for a moment.

clark is a gentleman, so it's not like he would try anything. and besides, the rain was coming down hard. flash flood warnings don't get sent out for no reason.

sure, you worked together and this could probably affect your professional relationship if any lines were to be crossed.

so...you would just have to make sure they weren't.

which was easier said than done when he was always looking at you that way.

"you're right," you nod in agreement.

he analyzed you for a moment, as if he was making sure you weren't uncomfortable in any way.

"okay. you can have the bedroom. i'll sleep on the couch," he said politely. you finished what was left in your mug.

"thank you, clark," you said for what felt like the hundredth time tonight and made a mental note to return the favor some time.

you began handing the mug back to clark but the handle slipped through your fingers and it went plummeting towards the tile.

before it could shatter, clark was on his knees, cradling it with one hand.

your breath hitched at the sight of him down there looking back up at you.

maybe you should've apologized. or even laughed it off.

but he stood up so slowly, barely an inch from your face, and you forgot how to think at all.

"careful," he whispered, eyes flickering down to your lips.

ignoring the magnetic force between the two of you, you went your separate ways.

as you crawled into his sheets and rested your head on his pillow, you were sure that was the last you'd see of the raven haired man for the night.

until, a crack of thunder woke you from your sleep. you jolted forward, hand on your chest as your lungs heaved.

clark was already by your side, hand on your shoulder, "it's okay. just breathe. deep breaths in and then out slowly."

you tried to focus on his voice, do what he said. it wasn't easy, but after a few minutes your breathing had slowed.

he'd held onto you the whole time. "are you okay?" clark asked, sincerity in his eyes.

you nodded, "how did you-"

he blinked, trying to understand what you were asking. then it clicked, "oh. i heard you shout. you were crying."

you felt embarrassment wash over you. this didn't happen often, but when it did you'd be plagued with a dreadful feeling all day long.

how fucking perfect for it to happen the one night you choose to spend at someone else's house.

"i'm so sorry," you let your head fall against your bent knees. on the bright side, you'd forgotten what the dream was even about in the first place.

clark's gentle touch fell from your shoulder to squeeze your hand, "don't say that. it's not your fault."

"it's not your fault." his words echoed in your head.

you let your fingers brush against his, "i woke you."

he shook his head, a single curl falling against his forehead, "i wasn't asleep."

clark wasn't going to tell you it was because he'd been worried about you, listening for the slightest sniffle in case you'd caught something out in the rain.

he just gave you a once-over, double checking that you were okay, before straightening his posture, "you should get some sleep."

your heart dropped as he let go of your hand. as he began to leave, you looked out at the window behind him.

the clouds crackled with fury.

"clark," your voice came out weak.

he turned back to you without hesitation.

"do you wanna stay? maybe talk?" you asked.

clark's eyes went slightly wider and he seemed at a loss for words.

you fidgeted, "it's just, i don't think i'll be able to go back to sleep. and it's kind of awful being alone in here."

"i don't know how you do it," you laughed.

the smile he gave you reached his eyes and he sat beside you without a word.

you moved over, making sure he had enough space before leaning back against the headboard, "tell me about your latest piece."

clark began rambling on and on about news in metropolis. how big corporations were affecting small businesses and something about climate change.

you weren't really sure. at some point you began falling asleep, your head slowly sinking down onto his shoulder.

he stopped talking as he felt you curl up against him, taking a moment to admire your peaceful state.

after making sure you were fully asleep, he gently laid you down against the pillows, pulling the covers up over you.

"goodnight," he whispered before making a move to slip out of bed. but before he could, your arm was flung over his lap.

he let out a short, breathy laugh before trying again.

this time, your fingers curled around his shirt and tugged him closer.

so clark had no choice but to stay there by your side all night long, even dozed off sitting up a few times.

by morning, you'd completely forgotten where you were.

that was until you saw his face. his jaw slack, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he snored quietly.

the morning glow hit his features just right and he suddenly didn't look like shy, quiet clark kent.

he looked like something carved by greeks. he looked like a god.

almost as if he could feel you staring, he blinked, slowly waking up. clark gave you a curious look, "were you watching me sleep?"

your eyebrows shot up, "what!? no, of course not. that would be weird."

he nodded slowly, "it would be weird. but, i don't mind weird."

you chewed your bottom lip nervously as your thoughts ran wild. it had only just seemed to dawn on you that you were currently at clark kent's apartment, laying in clark kent's bed, wearing clark kent's clothes.

"you talk in your sleep, ya' know?" he smirked.

you frowned, "um. no, i did not know that."

he looked at you like he knew something you didn't.

"what?? what did i say," you asked, bracing yourself for impact.

clark shook his head reassuringly, "nothing."

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in as he pulled off the covers and walked over to his dresser, taking a sip from a glass that you hadn't noticed before.

"and i'll make sure that you dreaming of my big, strong arms is off the record," he said smugly and casually.

you gasped in horror, "CLARK!" you threw a pillow at him, missing terribly and being subjected to the sound of his chaotic laughter.