Chapter Warning: This chapter contains romantic themes, mild language, and playful domestic interactions.
The soft glow of morning light filters through the curtains, pulling you from a deep sleep. As your eyes flutter open, the first thing you notice is the overwhelming scent of roses—hundreds of them, spilling over every surface in the bedroom. Petals are scattered across the bed like a crimson blanket, and vases crowd the nightstands, dresser, even the windowsill. It's extravagant, almost absurd, but undeniably Tony.
Before you can fully process it, the door creaks open, and there he is—Tony Stark, your husband of five years, balancing a tray with wobbly determination. His hair is tousled, sleeves rolled up, and there's a smudge of flour on his cheek. The breakfast he brings looks like a heroic effort gone slightly awry: toast that's more charred than golden, eggs scrambled into a lumpy pile, and coffee that smells a tad too strong. But the smile on his face, wide and earnest, makes your heart skip.
"Good morning, beautiful," he says, setting the tray on the bed with a flourish that nearly topples the orange juice. He perches on the edge of the mattress, his eyes searching yours, a mix of hope and nerves flickering there.
You sit up, pulling the sheets around you, and glance at the floral explosion. "Tony... what's all this?"
He rubs the back of his neck, that familiar sheepish grin tugging at his lips. "Okay, hear me out. I know I've been buried in the lab, coming home late every night, missing bedtime with you and the little guy. By the time I drag myself in, you're both out cold, curled up together like the cutest damn thing. And last night... I overheard you on the phone, talking about how the marriage feels monotonous, no romance left. I get it—it's my fault. I've been neglecting you, and I'm sorry. Really sorry." His words tumble out in a rush, barely pausing for breath. "So, to fix it, I booked us a staycation. Two whole days, just you and me. No suits, no emergencies, no kiddo interruptions. He's heading to your parents' place this afternoon. We deserve this."
Your heart aches at his confession, the vulnerability in his voice hitting you like a wave. He thinks it's about us? Oh, Tony. You reach out, your hands gently cupping his face, thumbs brushing over the stubble on his jaw. His eyes widen, locking onto yours with that intense gaze that always makes your pulse quicken.
"Tony, stop," you murmur softly, your voice steady and warm. "I love you. So much. But... I wasn't talking about our marriage. That call was with my sister. Hers is the one that's turned monotonous—no romance, all routine. Not us. Never us."
Relief floods his features, a huge breath escaping him as his shoulders slump. He lets out a shaky laugh, pulling you closer. "Jesus, you have no idea... I thought you were done with me. That this was it—the big talk before the end. So, now that our marriage isn't imploding, I can cancel the staycation, right?" He smirks, that playful glint returning to his eyes, but there's still a hint of uncertainty lingering.
You narrow your eyes, a teasing smile curving your lips as you poke his chest. "Anthony Edward Stark, if you even think about canceling that staycation, you will be dead meat."
His smirk widens into a full grin, and before you can react, he's on his feet, bolting from the bed with a dramatic flourish. "Catch me and we will still go!" he calls over his shoulder, laughing as he darts toward the hallway.
Adrenaline surges through you, and you scramble after him, barefoot and giggling, the sheets forgotten. The house echoes with your footsteps—his longer strides carrying him ahead, but you're quick, determined. He weaves through the living room, dodging toys scattered from last night's playtime with your son, but you close the gap, heart pounding with joy.
Just as you think you're about to tag him, strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. Tony spins you effortlessly, pulling you flush against his chest. His breath is warm on your neck, and then his lips crash into yours in a deep, hungry kiss. It's all heat and reassurance, his hands splaying across your back, drawing you impossibly closer. You melt into him, fingers threading through his hair, the world narrowing to the taste of him—coffee and that uniquely Tony spark.
When you finally break apart, foreheads pressed together, he's breathing hard, eyes sparkling. "Oh, never cancelling never" he whispers, nipping at your lower lip. "You are so beautiful Y/n."
Taglist: @ts-rdj-reader @definitelynotaginger
A/N: I miss writing so muchhh but my gorgeous fiance and I are doing long distance. I work from home in the morning hours so does he sooo the night is the only time we get to talk but I am seeing all the requests and trying to work on them
~ A Little Taste of Heaven ~ (Peter Parker x Fem!Reader) (1/10)
Sorry for any mistakes! I don't have a beta and this is my first story I've ever put out there! ~ ❤️ Any feed back is much appreciated! I hope you all Enjoy!
Also it has been posted to ao3 as I have an account there under Kprincess3697 so it hasn’t been stolen, Love y’all 🥰
warnings : Mature themes/Explicit content/Action-packed violence/Emotional turmoil/Hostage situations/Romance/Angst
summery "Spider-Man swings in to save the day, but ends up stealing more than just a moment—he gets caught in something a little more… complicated. 😉"
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🎵🎶Sweetest Pie • Megan Thee Stallion, Dua Lipa 🎶🎵(link to song)
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Moving to Manhattan had felt like stepping into an entirely new existence. Her old life—familiar routines, the safety net of her small circle—was now miles away, stored in memory boxes and cautious goodbyes. This was supposed to be her fresh start, her big break. She had landed a job at the New York Bulletin, after all.
The title alone had made her giddy with anticipation. A major magazine! She had imagined herself diving into editorial meetings, pitching bold ideas, and seeing her byline in glossy print. But reality had been far less glamorous. Instead of crafting stories, she spent her days running coffee orders, delivering memos, and juggling dry cleaning runs for senior staff.
An errand girl. That’s what she had become.
She fought to swallow the growing pit of disappointment every time her phone buzzed with yet another task. This wasn’t what she had dreamed of, but Manhattan wasn’t one for indulging dreams—it was a place where you either climbed or got swept away. And she wasn’t about to let the city win.
Navigating the bustling streets of Manhattan was like stepping into a current of unrelenting energy. Crowds surged past [Name] in every direction, the air thick with the aroma of street food mingled with exhaust fumes. She kept her head low, her messenger bag slung over one shoulder and her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She had just picked up lunch for her editor, the kind of errand that seemed to define her job lately.
She paused at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. The towering digital screens above her flickered, capturing her attention as they cut into their regular loop of advertisements. The unmistakable face of J. Jonah Jameson appeared, scowling and leaning forward in his signature style that made it seem like he was berating the entire city.
“This just in!” his gravelly voice boomed over the speakers, loud enough to drown out even the relentless honking of taxis. “Another so-called heroic escapade by your friendly neighborhood Spider-Menace. Earlier today, the webbed wonder was spotted in a disastrous attempt to thwart a robbery in Queens, leaving chaos in his wake!”
[Name] watched as shaky footage played on the screens, showing Spider-Man swinging between buildings, dodging blasts of some kind of energy weapon. The scene cut back to Jameson, his face practically crimson with indignation. “Let me be clear, folks,” he continued, wagging a finger for emphasis. “Spider-Man isn’t saving this city. He’s putting you in danger—plain and simple!"
The light changed, but [Name] found herself rooted to the spot for a moment longer, watching the broadcast. Around her, New Yorkers barely glanced up, accustomed to Jameson's rants and the endless stream of breaking news. To [Name], though, it was a strange reminder of the world she now lived in—a world where superheroes and supervillains were part of the daily grind.
She shook her head and stepped into the crosswalk, weaving through the sea of pedestrians. Whatever her own challenges were, she figured, at least she wasn’t tangled up in all that. For now, her focus had to stay on making her own way in this city, one step at a time.
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[Name] pushed open the glass doors of the New York Bulletin, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and a warm bag of takeout wafting up from her hands. The front desk clerk barely glanced up as she hurried past, juggling the precarious tray and paper bag while trying to avoid bumping into her colleagues. Her heels clicked against the polished floor, echoing in a way that made her feel small—just another cog in the relentless machine of the magazine world.
She arrived at her boss’s office, setting the coffee and lunch order down on the edge of his sprawling mahogany desk. He didn’t even look up from his computer, offering only a curt “Thanks,” before diving back into whatever important task demanded his attention.
At her desk—a tiny corner carved out in the bullpen—[Name] pulled out her notebook. Her coffee-stained to-do list stared back at her, mocking her ambitions. Gripping her pen, she doodled absentmindedly in the margins, her thoughts drifting to the stories she wanted to tell, the words she was desperate to write. She couldn’t let this be her only reality. There had to be a way to prove herself, to claw her way out of the errands and into the writing she was born to do.
Before [Name] could take another sip of her now-lukewarm coffee, her work phone buzzed. The caller ID flashed her boss’s name—“Mr. Caldwell”—and she reluctantly answered.
“[Name], I need you to handle a few things for me,” Mr. Caldwell’s voice came through, brisk and to the point. “I’ve got an important meeting this afternoon with Diane Hartridge from Hamilton Publishing. Big deal for us. So, here’s what I need: send out those follow-up emails I dictated yesterday, book me a lunch appointment with Hartridge for next Tuesday, and drop off a package at this address.”
She heard the shuffle of papers on his end before he rattled off an address. [Name] scribbled it down on a notepad, recognizing the street as one not far from her own apartment.
“Yes, sir,” she said, forcing a professional tone into her voice. She could already feel the familiar twinge of frustration creeping in. Meetings with publishing executives, conversations about big deals—those were the kinds of things she had dreamed of being involved in. Instead, here she was, taking notes like an intern.
“And once you’ve dropped that off, you can take the rest of the day off,” Caldwell added, as though offering her a generous gift. “Consider it a breather. You’ve earned it.”
[Name] bit back a sigh. “Got it,” she replied, keeping her voice steady. Hanging up, she glanced at the tasks now piling up on her mental to-do list.
Back at her desk, she typed furiously, knocking out the follow-up emails with clockwork efficiency. Each one had to be just so—polished, professional, and perfectly aligned with her boss’s expectations. Once she hit send on the last email, she tackled the lunch appointment, navigating the online booking system while fielding interruptions from passing colleagues.
Half an hour later, with her inbox cleared and the reservation confirmed, [Name] leaned back in her chair and allowed herself a fleeting moment of satisfaction. One set of tasks done.
Grabbing her bag and the package from the reception desk, she stepped out into the midday chaos of Manhattan. The familiar surge of people, cars, and noise hit her immediately, but at least the errand would take her near her neighbourhood. She adjusted the strap of her bag, holding the package securely under one arm as she navigated the sidewalks.
Moving in step with the endless tide of Manhattan pedestrians, [Name] felt almost invisible amid the city’s chaotic rhythm. As she turned the corner, a boutique caught her eye, its window display glowing softly under the midday sun. There, on a mannequin, was a dress that immediately drew her in—a soft lavender piece that was sweet and understated. The hem hit mid-thigh, just a few widths away from the knees, with delicate white lace ribbons crisscrossing over the bodice and tied into a playful little bow at the sweetheart neckline. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was undeniably feminine, with just the right touch of charm.
[Name] hesitated for only a moment before stepping into the boutique, the bell above the door chiming softly as she entered. The quiet hum of conversation and the fresh, clean scent that lingered in the air made the shop feel like a little oasis from the noise outside.
“Can I help you find anything?” a cheerful sales assistant asked, her warm smile matching the inviting atmosphere.
“I was actually hoping to try on the lavender dress in the window,” [Name] said, her voice laced with a shy excitement.
“Of course! Let me grab your size,” the assistant replied, quickly disappearing into the back.
A few minutes later, [Name] stood in front of a full-length mirror in the dressing room, smoothing out the soft fabric over her hips. The dress fit perfectly, the lavender colour complimenting her complexion and the crisscrossing lace ribbons adding a playful, feminine flair. She smiled, turning slightly to admire the way it flattered her figure. It was exactly what she needed for the get-together that evening—a simple yet pretty reminder that, even amidst the chaos of her first week, there was still room for moments like this.
“This is the one,” she told herself quietly, nodding with conviction as she stepped back into her own shoes.
Within minutes, she was back out on the street, the boutique’s shopping bag swinging lightly in her hand. The day didn’t seem quite as daunting now. Tonight, she’d celebrate in her new dress, and maybe—just maybe—she’d let herself believe that she belonged here, even if things hadn’t gone exactly as she had planned.
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The bass thumped through the crowded bar, reverberating under [Name]’s feet as she leaned on the high-top table. The evening had been a lively blur of laughter, drinks, and getting to know her colleagues—Hannah, who worked in layout design, and Megan, one of the junior writers. [Name] was starting to feel like she was finding her footing, a stark contrast to the awkward chaos of her first day.
“Wait, so you actually spilled coffee on him? On Caldwell?” Megan asked, her eyes wide with mock horror as she took a sip of her wine.
“Straight on him,” [Name] said, laughing despite herself. “It was everywhere—his desk, his papers, him. I thought I was going to be fired on the spot, but he just looked at me and said, ‘You’ve got five minutes to get me another latte.’”
“That’s iconic,” Hannah said, grinning. “Honestly, not bad for a first day. Could’ve been worse.”
They all burst into laughter, and Megan raised her glass. “To surviving your first week!” she declared, her enthusiasm infectious.
“To surviving,” Hannah echoed, clinking her glass against theirs.
[Name] couldn’t help but smile as their glasses met with a cheerful ring. She felt a spark of warmth in her chest, the camaraderie lifting her spirits. For the first time in a while, she felt like she belonged—at least, a little.
The moment shifted as a couple of guys approached their table, clearly familiar with Hannah and Megan. The women greeted them with easy smiles, the conversation quickly veering into shared anecdotes and inside jokes that [Name] didn’t quite follow. Not wanting to intrude, she offered to grab another round of drinks for the three of them.
Squeezing through the throng of people, she made her way to the bar. It was packed, but she managed to find a small gap to slide into, catching the bartender’s attention after a few minutes of patient waiting. As she rattled off their order, the music thumped louder, almost drowning out her voice. She shifted her weight, waiting for the drinks, when she felt a presence sidle up beside her.
“Hey there,” a man said, his voice just audible over the blaring music. [Name] turned her head to see him leaning against the bar, his shirt slightly untucked and a confident smirk on his face.
“You here alone?” he asked, his tone casually suggestive.
“No, I’m here with friends,” she replied, keeping her voice polite but firm. She’d dealt with this type before—overconfident, pushy, and oblivious to boundaries. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.
“Ah, come on,” he pressed, leaning closer. “I could keep you company.”
“I’m good, thanks,” [Name] said sharply, her grip tightening on the bar as the bartender set the drinks down in front of her. She grabbed them quickly, balancing the glasses carefully in her hands. “Excuse me.”
The man stepped back, raising his hands as though he’d done nothing wrong. “Alright, alright. No need to be like that,” he said with a crooked grin before disappearing into the crowd.
By the time she got back to the table, her heart was steady again, her annoyance at the man already dissipating into the noise and energy of the bar. Hannah and Megan noticed her expression, though, their conversation pausing briefly.
“Everything okay?” Megan asked, setting her drink down.
“Yeah,” [Name] said, sliding the glasses onto the table. “Just some guy at the bar who couldn’t take no for an answer.”
“What a creep,” Hannah muttered, her gaze darting toward the bar. “Stick with us. We’ve got your back.”
Nodding grateful for the solidarity. She sat back down, forcing herself to focus on the laughter and warmth at the table. Encounters like that weren’t new to her, but they were never pleasant. Still, she wasn’t about to let one guy ruin her night.
As the night wore on, the music seemed to pulse through every corner of the bar, and she found herself swept up in the rhythm with Hannah and Megan. The three of them laughed as they danced in a small circle, occasionally bumping into each other as the crowd pressed around them. Hannah threw her arms up with exaggerated flair, spinning in time to the beat, while Megan leaned in to shout over the music, “You’ve got moves, girl! Where’ve you been hiding these?”
She laughed, shaking her head as she tried to keep up. For a few minutes, there was nothing but the pounding of the bass, the heat of the room, and the infectious energy of shared joy. They pulled her into a silly line dance, half stumbling and laughing through it, before dissolving into giggles at their own lack of coordination.
“I needed this,” Megan said, fanning herself dramatically as they paused to catch their breath. “Best idea ever.”
Hannah nodded, her cheeks flushed from both the dancing and her gin and tonic. “Agreed. But I think our admirers might have other ideas.”
The guys from earlier had appeared at the edge of the dance floor, waving them over with playful grins. Hannah shot Megan a look, and the two of them exchanged mischievous smiles before turning back to her.
“We’re gonna head out with them,” Hannah said, placing a light hand on her arm. “You okay getting home?”
She nodded, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Yeah, I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”
“Text us when you’re home, okay?” Megan said, pulling her in for a quick hug.
Hannah gave a quick wave as they linked arms with the two guys, disappearing into the crowd. Left alone under the flashing lights of the bar, she lingered for a moment, letting the music wash over her. The night had been fun—chaotic, vibrant, exactly what she needed—but as she glanced at the time on her phone, she decided it was probably time to call it herself.
Grabbing her bag, she slipped out of the bar into the cool embrace of the city night. The vibrant pulse of music and chatter faded as the door swung shut behind her, replaced by the layered hum of Manhattan—the sporadic honk of a cab, muffled voices from passing groups, and the occasional rumble of a subway train beneath her feet.
The air was crisp and carried the faint scent of rain on concrete, grounding her as she started walking. She pulled out her phone, glancing at the map briefly to reorient herself. The bar was in a part of the city she didn’t know too well, and the unfamiliar street names were a little disorienting. Still, she figured she’d find her way soon enough. After all, getting lost was part of the charm of living in Manhattan—wasn’t it?
She took a right, then a left, but the streets didn’t seem to align with where she thought she should be. A few blocks later, she realized she might have gone too far in the wrong direction. The tall buildings seemed to close in slightly, their windows glinting faintly under dim streetlights. Her grip on the strap of her bag tightened as she slowed her steps, scanning for a recognizable landmark.
Then she heard it. Footsteps. Heavy and deliberate. They weren’t her own.
Her heart tightened as she slowed her pace, ears straining against the quiet. She risked a glance over her shoulder but saw nothing—just the stretch of empty sidewalk behind her. A chill pricked at the back of her neck, and she shook her head, trying to dispel the creeping paranoia. It’s nothing, she told herself. Just someone else heading home.
But the sound didn’t fade. It grew louder. Closer.
Her heart raced as she quickened her pace, scanning the empty streets for something familiar. Turning into an alley in a desperate attempt to shortcut her way back, she froze. Ahead, blocking the far end, stood two burly men, their shadows stretched long under the dim, flickering streetlight. They didn’t move, but their stance left no question—they were waiting.
Her breath caught, and she spun around, instinctively stepping back toward the entrance she had come through. But her stomach dropped as she saw him. The man from the bar emerged from the shadows behind her, his hands stuffed casually into his pockets as if he’d been out for a leisurely stroll. His smirk was gone, replaced by something far darker. The gleam in his eyes sent a cold shiver down her spine.
He took a slow step forward, his movements deliberate, the click of his shoes echoing against the walls of the alley. “Looks like you got a little turned around,” he said, his voice low and sinister, the friendliness he had feigned earlier now stripped away. “Don’t worry. We’ll help you find your way.”
[Name]’s chest tightened, and her hand gripped the strap of her bag as her mind raced for an exit. Trapped between the men blocking her path and him closing in behind, she felt the weight of the alley pressing down on her like a vice. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but there was nowhere to go.
The man’s smirk twisted into something even darker as he stepped closer, the dim light catching the cold gleam in his eyes. She instinctively took another step back, her breath quickening, but before she could fully process her next move, he lunged.
The suddenness of it made her heart slam in her chest. She jerked back, her movement instinctual and desperate, only to collide hard with something solid. A startled gasp escaped her as she spun around, realizing too late that she had backed straight into the other two men. Their hands shot out like vices, one grabbing her by the arm, the other seizing her bag and yanking her balance off-center.
“Got her,” one of them muttered, his voice gravelly, the sound of it reverberating in her ears as panic clawed its way up her throat.
She twisted and pulled, trying to wrench herself free, but their grips only tightened. The man from the bar loomed closer now, his steps deliberate and almost lazy, as if he already knew the struggle was futile. He adjusted his sleeves, his calm movements a sinister contrast to the chaos surging through her body.
“You made this way too easy,” he said, his voice dripping with malice....
Before he could make contact, a cheery, almost sing-song voice interrupted. “Yoohoo!”
The man froze, his head snapping to the side as Spider-Man crouched casually on the edge of the building above them, giving an awkward wave. “I think it’s you who made this easy,” he quipped, the web-shooters on his wrists already aimed and primed. With a swift flick, a sticky line of web shot out, pinning the man to the brick wall behind him. His smirk disappeared in an instant, replaced by a look of shocked indignation.
“Hang tight,” Spider-Man said, hopping down into the alley with a graceful flip. He landed between [Name] and the two burly men, who were momentarily too stunned to move. “Alright, fellas. Who’s next?”
The bigger of the two lunged, throwing a wide, meaty punch in Spider-Man’s direction. Without breaking a sweat, Spidey caught the punch mid-swing, his free hand scratching at the back of his head as though this was all mildly inconvenient. “Man, you guys really need to work on your timing. Swing and a miss,” he said, twisting the man’s arm just enough to send him stumbling backward.
Before the other man could make a move, Spider-Man shot out another web, sticking his feet firmly to the ground. The guy flailed awkwardly, looking down at his now-immobile boots as Spider-Man turned to him. “And you,” he said, wagging a finger like a disappointed teacher. “I think you should apologize to the lady. Right now. Loudly. And use your nicest manners.”
He tilted his head toward [Name], who stood frozen in shock, her heart still racing from the encounter. Spider-Man turned back to the first man, webbed securely to the wall, and offered a mockingly thoughtful hum. “What about you, Smirky McCreepy? Anything to say for yourself? Or are you good hanging out there?”
The bigger man sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “Apologize? To her? Screw you, Spider-Man.”
“Yeah,” the other chimed in, struggling against the webbing that pinned his feet to the ground. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”
Spider-Man sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “You know, I try to give people a chance. I really do. But you guys just had to go and ruin it.” With a flick of his wrist, another web shot out, sticking the last man to the ground before he could even think about making a move. “There. Now you’re all grounded. Literally.”
He tapped the side of his mask. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you let the NYPD know we’ve got a few bad apples here? Alley off 12th and Main. Oh, and tell them to bring extra cuffs—these guys are a bit... sticky.”
“Message sent,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s calm voice replied in his earpiece.
Spider-Man turned his attention back to [Name], his posture relaxing as he approached her. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, his tone softer now. “I mean, I know this probably wasn’t how you planned your night, but... you’re safe now.”
Spider-Man shifted his weight from foot to foot, scratching the back of his head as if he’d suddenly forgotten how to stand properly. “So, uh,” he started, his voice cracking just slightly. “That was, uh, intense, right? I mean, not that I can’t handle it—I totally can—but, you know, I guess you didn’t sign up for alleyway creeps tonight.”
Her heartbeat was still racing, but his awkwardness was oddly comforting. She nodded, managing a small smile. “No, not exactly.”
“Yeah, figured,” he said, nodding along with her, as if trying to convince himself he wasn’t making things worse. “Uh, you’re not hurt or anything, right? No bumps, bruises, or weird Spidey-induced whiplash?”
“No, I’m fine,” she said, adjusting her bag. “Thanks for, you know… all of that.” She gestured vaguely toward the webbed-up men behind him, their muffled protests starting to quiet.
“Oh, don’t mention it,” he said quickly, his words tumbling over each other. “I mean, seriously, don’t mention it—I kind of like to keep the whole ‘friendly neighbourhood’ thing on the down-low. You know, keep the mystery alive.”
Her smile widened a fraction, and he seemed to relax slightly. “So, uh,” he continued, gesturing toward the street. “Do you, like, know how to get home? Or...?”
She hesitated, glancing around at the unfamiliar streets. “Not really,” she admitted. “This isn’t my usual neighbourhood. I was trying to find my way back to East Harlem.”
“Oh!” he exclaimed, his tone brightening. “East Harlem—cool area! Amazing food, great vibes, and, uh, let’s be honest, fewer creeps like these guys.” He gestured toward the webbed-up men behind him. “I can totally get you there! You know, as a bonus for saving the day—or, uh, the night.”
He stepped a little closer, his movements tentative as he caught her uneasy expression. “Hey, uh, you okay? That was… intense,” he said, his voice softening, as if the words were trying to land as gently as possible. “Not that I’m an expert on post-creep alleyway vibes or anything, but you look like you could use an express pass out of here.”
She hesitated, glancing back at the men stuck to the wall. The adrenaline still buzzed through her veins, but the idea of staying here a second longer made her stomach churn. “Yeah,” she said quietly, the word slipping out before she fully realized. “That’d be great.”
His masked head tilted slightly, like he was offering an unseen reassuring smile. “Alright, awesome. So, uh, what’s the plan? Should we do the ‘swinging-through-the-city’ thing? I mean, it’s faster than walking… and less awkward than small talk while we dodge fire hydrants.”
She blinked at him, caught off guard by his casual delivery. “You mean, like... swing? Swing-swing?”
“Yeah!” His voice brightened again as he straightened up, excited by her cautious curiosity. “Trust me, it’s like Uber, but with webs instead of wheels. And also no ratings, please, because I’m still workshopping my moves.”
Her laughter came unexpectedly, cutting through the edge of her fear. “Okay,” she said, brushing her hair out of her face. “Let’s do it.”
“Yes!” His arms shot into the air briefly in triumph before he caught himself. “I mean, cool. Great. Just hold on tight, and, uh, I promise I’ll try not to do any unnecessary flips. You know, unless it looks super cool.”
Carefully, he wrapped an arm around her waist, checking her expression to make sure she was okay with the proximity. When she nodded, he shot a web upward and leapt into the air. The world blurred as they arced high above the city, the rhythmic thwip of his webbing almost hypnotic. Her initial fear dissolved into awe as the view opened up—streetlights stretched below like strings of gold, and the warm summer breeze brushed her face.
“So,” he called over the wind, his tone as conversational as if they were sitting in a café, “East Harlem, huh? You got a favourite taco spot over there, or is it all just about the vibes?”
She laughed, adjusting to the thrill of being weightless. “I just moved here, actually,” she replied. “Still figuring it all out.”
“Perfect timing, then!” he replied, swinging them over a row of townhouses. “If you’re new, you have to try this one little taco truck on 116th. Oh, and there’s this churro cart on the corner of Lex—it’ll change your life. Like, I once ate five in one sitting, and I don’t even have a normal human metabolism.”
Landing briefly on a rooftop, he recalibrated, looking back at her. “Doing okay? I mean, like, no motion sickness or second thoughts?”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling despite herself. “This is… kind of amazing.”
“Kind of?” He playfully gasped, launching them back into the air. “Alright, I’m gonna do, like, 12% more flips now. Just wait—it’ll be amazing amazing.”
She laughed again, the sound surprising even her, as the city continued to blur and twinkle below. The weight of the night’s events eased with every swing, her unease replaced by a growing sense of wonder—and a strange feeling of safety with the masked hero who seemed more human than super.
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With one final swing, Spider-Man landed lightly in an alley behind a quiet row of buildings. He set her down gently, stepping back and pulling at his mask slightly to adjust it. “And here we are—East Harlem. Or, well, technically, this very scenic, definitely-not-sketchy alleyway. But hey, you’re close enough, right?” He let out a nervous laugh, motioning around them with exaggerated enthusiasm.
She laughed softly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. The rush of swinging through the city still buzzed through her veins, but now that her feet were on solid ground, she could feel a different kind of energy—one she couldn’t quite explain. “That was incredible,” she said, her voice quieter now, steady.
“Yeah?” he replied, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “Cool, cool. Glad you think so. I mean, it’s not every day you get an airborne tour of the city. Well, unless you’re me. I get a lot of those.”
She stepped closer to him, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. The space between them shrank, and his posture stiffened slightly, as though he hadn’t been prepared for the sudden proximity. “Uh,” he said, his voice cracking just a touch, “you, uh, sure you’re okay? No whiplash? Sore neck? Legs still attached?”
Her lips curved into a small, mischievous smile. She didn’t answer, but her gaze held his, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them.
He froze, his mask hiding what was undoubtedly a deer-in-headlights expression. “I mean,” he stammered, gesturing vaguely to the alley, “you’re safe now! Which is—uh—good. Totally good. Safe is good.”
She tilted her head, still not saying anything.
Peter let out a shaky laugh, tugging at the edge of his mask out of nervous habit. He started to take a half-step back, but his body refused to follow through, stuck somewhere between retreat and a kind of hopeful panic.
Then [Name]'s hand touched his cheek, her fingers light even against the textured fabric of his suit. His breath hitched. “Can I kiss you?” she whispered, her voice so soft he wondered if maybe his mind had made it up. His eyes widened behind the mask, and he blinked a few too many times. “Uh—y-yeah, yeah, totally. I mean... yes,” he stammered, tripping over the words.
She leaned in, her lips brushing against the fabric of his mask, teasingly soft against his covered cheek. Peter froze, his breath catching as the expressive eyes of his mask widened in surprise. For a moment, he was all nerves and stammering thoughts, the usual Peter Parker chaos.
But then, in a move that felt bold even for him, he reached up and tugged the mask just high enough to reveal his jaw, his cheek, and the curve of his lips. His heart pounded as he looked at her, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Maybe… try that again?”
[Name] leaned in, her lips brushing softly against the bare skin of his cheek. It was quick, almost fleeting, but enough to send a jolt through Peter. His breath hitched audibly, and the eyes of his mask contracted again, wide and expressive.
She hesitated for a moment, watching him, testing the waters. Then, with a small, playful smile, she leaned in again, placing a gentle peck on his other cheek.
Peter’s lips parted slightly, his jaw tensing as if he were trying to process what was happening. His gloved hands hovered awkwardly at his sides, unsure of what to do.
“Uh…” he started, his voice cracking just a little. “I—uh—this is… nice.”
Name] leaned in again, her lips brushing the corner of his, feather-light. A soft sigh escaped her, warm against his skin. Peter’s breath hitched, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure she could hear it.
The eyes of his mask contracted slightly, a flicker of surprise and something else—something braver. Slowly, he turned to face her fully, his gaze locking with hers for a heartbeat that felt like forever.
When she leaned in again, her lips found the corner of his once more, lingering just a moment longer. And then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, they both closed the gap. Her lips met his in a proper kiss, soft and unhurried, and Peter melted into it, his gloved hand hovering awkwardly near her shoulder before finally resting there, grounding him in the moment.
What started off as a light peck suddenly turned into a clash of tongues and teeth. He took a step forward, closing the last of the distance between them. Red-gloved hands wrapped around her—one at the waist, just above her lower back, and the other finding purchase at the base of her neck, pulling her deeper into the kiss. She lightly brushed her index and middle finger against his partially exposed cheek before placing the rest of her hand against his covered neck.
With a firm yet gentle touch, he guides her until she is pressed fully against the wall of her apartment complex. His lower hand shifts from her back to the wall, providing stability. She lets out a breathy moan, her head thrown back, and he takes the chance to lavish wet kisses and licks on her exposed neck.
Peter started prepping kisses along her shoulder and up her neck close to her ear. "Fuck~" he panted out, under the mask his pupils were blown out with the lust coursing through his veins. Looking at her, with her head thrown back, lips parted, and hair all dishevelled, did things to him. His heightened senses caught the quickening of her pulse, the heat rising to her cheeks, every subtle reaction she couldn't hide. He shouldn't—but hearing that single word shattered his restraint. "More~" She whispered, her breath hitching as she brought her face back to his, their lips colliding in a relentless cascade of kisses. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her fingers interlocking at the nape of his neck.
She gasped aloud as she felt him lift her effortlessly, as if she weighed nothing. Peter took the opportunity to push his tongue into her mouth when he pressed her further into the wall, his weight pinned her in place as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Matching his intensity, her tongue danced with his in a heated battle for dominance. Her nails skimmed down the back of his mask, a deliberate and teasing motion.
It was as if she had become an entirely different person, a vixen. She was filled with wanton lust for man whose face she had never seen, he had an uncanny ability to captivate her completely. All she could feel was the undeniable heat and pulsing from between her thighs and she needed a release, and soon!
"I… I need more~" She whispered breathlessly, her eyes locking onto what little she could see of his face. His shoulders and chest rose and fell with each panting breath, mirroring her own unsteady rhythm. Her hips began to move involuntary against his own grinding down against a very noticeable bulge, what surprised her was his very own hips pushing up to meet her own thrust down. With each meeting of their hips, her summer dress inched up ever so slightly. "Oh... fuck....Just like that" They both panted aloud, in unison.
Peter couldn't take his eyes off (name) the way she gasped at the delicious friction, the way her hips would push harder into his. Enough was enough he decided to take control of her hips, and set a harsher rhythm. Letting one hand slip from her hips, he brought his index finger to his mouth, teeth grazing the glove's edge as he tugged it loose, letting it fall to the ground between them. As his hand came free, he seized her chin, drawing her into a fiercer, more demanding kiss.
Releasing her grip from the back of Peter's neck, she cupped his face, her fingers grazing beneath the mask that still concealed his nose, eyes, and the rest of his features. For a fleeting, heart-stopping moment, fear gripped him like a vice. His fingers trembled as he released her chin, lurching forward to snatch her wrists. He pressed them between their chests with a desperate urgency, his breath caught in his throat. "No," he growled, his voice dipping low and steady. "The mask stays on." Each word carried quiet authority, leaving no room for argument. "Don't make me web your hands to the wall, because trust me, once that stuff's on, it's not coming off anytime soon." he quipped, his tone low but teasing, the corners of his mouth threatening a sly smile. "Kinky," she breathed with a soft laugh, her eyes glinting with mischief.
Before she could dwell any further on the idea of Spiderman's unexpected kinkiness, he shifted the hand gripping her wrists. The ungloved hand descended toward her panties, its movement deliberate and steady. A breath away from where she truly and utterly needed it most. "Please," she pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation. Peter chuckled, his cheeky smile widening as he leaned closer. 'Say it again,' he murmured, his tone dropped an octave, rich and teasing, as he leaned in, stopping just a breath away from her ear. Panting heavily, her flushed face turned toward him, she managed to gasp, her voice cracking under the weight of her plea, "Please, touch me."
And just like that, the pad of his index finger brushed against her clothed clit, a touch so light it was barely there. And yet, she felt it all the same—electric, unmistakable, A need so overwhelming, it forced another gasp from her lips. "Fuck! You’re not going to break me," she gasped, her breath hitching, the words desperate.
For a fraction of a second Peter grinned mischievously and pressed the pad of his finger further into her covered clit. His head dropped onto her shoulder, a deep, guttural groan escaping him as though he could no longer hold it back - at how damp her lace panties were. He'd made his mind up and surrendered to his baser desires, he deliberately began to coax her clothed core into submission with slow, deliberate strokes. His fingers danced across her sensitive skin in lazy circles, gradually increasing the pressure until she was writhing beneath his touch.
As he continued to tease her with his fingers, the slow, deliberate strokes ignited a fire within her, a flame that grew in intensity with each passing moment. The lazy circles he drew on her skin seemed to awaken a deep-seated hunger, a craving that threatened to consume her. Her body began to writhe and twist, her hips arching into his touch as she sought to increase the pressure, to deepen the sensation.
The fabric of her clothing, once a barrier, now seemed to enhance the experience, the gentle friction of the material against her skin adding an extra layer of sensitivity to the mix. His fingers, deft and skilled, coaxed and cajoled, drawing out a response from her that was both involuntary and irresistible. The pressure he applied, gradual and insistent, pushed her closer to the edge, until she was gasping, her breath coming in short, sharp pants.
Strokes grew more insistent, the pressure increasing, she felt herself being drawn into a vortex of sensation, a whirlpool of pleasure that threatened to pull her under. Her legs, once still, now began to tremble, the muscles tensing and relaxing in time with the strokes, as if urging Peter on, begging him to continue. The air around them seemed to vibrate with tension, the only sound the soft rustle of fabric, the gentle gasps of breath, and the pounding of their hearts, all combining to create a sense of anticipation, a sense of expectation, that seemed to build and build, until it was almost unbearable.
"Oh God," [Name] whispered, her voice trembling with need. "I don't know how much more of this I can take."
"Just a little longer," Peter replied, his voice low and husky. "I just… I don’t want this moment to end. You’re—you’re so beautiful."
And then, just as she thought she couldn't take it anymore, Peter's fingers changed rhythm, his touch becoming more urgent, more demanding. But instead of pushing her over the edge, he suddenly pulled his fingers away, leaving her feeling empty and bereft.
She let out a cry of disappointment, but Peter just smiled, his masked eyes narrowing intensity. He brought his fingers to his lips, tasting the sweet nectar that coated them. His eyes closed in rapture as he savoured the flavour, and she could see the realization dawn on him.
Untangled her legs from around his waist, he dropped to his knees, but in a swift and agile motion, he got her right leg over his shoulder on the way down. The movement was so smooth, so fluid, that [Name] barely had time to process what was happening before she found herself in a new and intimate position.
Peter's face was now buried in her pussy, his tongue licking out to taste her as he supported her weight on his shoulder. She felt his hot breath on her, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to drive her wild. Her leg was draped over his shoulder, her foot dangling in the air as he knelt before her, worshiping her with his mouth.
But as he delved deeper, his desire for her became more frenzied. With a swift and savage motion, he ripped her panties down the middle, the fabric tearing apart with a soft rip. [Name] felt a jolt of shock and excitement as the cool air hit her exposed skin, but before she could even process what was happening,
Peter's tongue was back, licking and sucking and probing with even greater intensity. As he continued to devour her, his fingers began to explore, gently probing her entrance before slipping inside. He started with one finger, his index finger, which he slowly inserted into her, feeling her inner walls clench around him. She was tight, but he was patient, taking his time to stretch her out, to prepare her for what was to come.
He began to add more fingers, his middle finger joining his index finger, and then his ring finger, slowly stretching her out until all three fingers were inside her. His fingers curled inside, hitting the spongy tissue that caused her to see stars. She could feel it—an overpowering surge building within, each wave cresting higher, stronger, relentless in its climb toward an inevitable breaking point. And he was her release—this masked hero who currently had her right leg thrown over his shoulder going for gold between her legs.
As he continued to finger her, moving his fingers in and out, in a slow, tantalizing rhythm. His fingers danced inside her, stroking her inner walls, building her pleasure, and driving her wild. With each stroke, he felt her getting closer, her muscles tensing, her breath catching, and he knew that she was on the edge, ready to tumble over into ecstasy.
(Name) couldn’t remember if he’d surfaced for air—he was a starving man, lost in an unrelenting desert, and she, the first drink of water, burned across his senses, igniting something raw and untamed within him. "I could die here, and I wouldn’t even care. This—this is everything" he groaned, his voice thick with passion, His masked eyes narrowed, the expressive lenses contracting as they locked onto hers. His focus was solely on her, and he could see the pleasure and desire reflected back at him, fuelling his own passion and driving him to take her higher.
She broke eye contact, her gaze faltering as she caught sight of her glistening juices clinging to his chin and lips, a sight both distracting and impossible to ignore... Because, damn, was that hot. All she wanted was to run her hands over his head, but that infuriating mask was in the way. "Don't stop," she begged, her head falling back against the rough brick wall, the cold surface grounding her as the moment consumed her entirely. Huffing a quick chuckle, he was back in an instant, his movements swift and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey.
And just like that, the brutal onslaught slammed into her, unyielding and merciless, tearing through her with a force that left no escape, no reprieve, only raw, consuming need. God, could this man eat! His tongue swept over her clit in endless, tantalizing licks—a raw display of pure indulgence. His fingers were unyielding as they bullied her G-spot, retreating only to plunge the trio of digits back in with relentless precision, leaving her wondering if she could endure the exquisite torture for much longer.
(Name) could feel the intense, building pressure, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to overwhelm her, and she knew that if he continued, she wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer, the anticipation and frustration coalescing into a desperate, aching need that begged for just one more touch, one more twirl of his tongue, to send her tumbling over the edge. And just like that, the taut thread of her control snapped, releasing a torrent of pent-up pleasure as her body surrendered to the overwhelming sensation, the dam breaking in a rush of ecstasy that left her shattered,
Peter felt her hand clasp the back of his mask as her back arched, a breathy "Oh~ Oh~, I'm," Her head was flung back, the tendons in her neck straining as her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth agape in a soundless scream, the only sign of her ecstasy a faint, keening gasp that escaped her parted lips. She had no need to announce her climax, for he could sense it in the way her core clamped down around his hand, the right one trembling violently over his shoulder as her body convulsed, and the sudden, silky rush of her cum on his tongue, a primal, instinctual knowledge that sparked a corresponding surge of pride within him.
Coming down from her high, gasps and shallow breaths spilling from her parted lips, she felt an overwhelming urge to tug away the mask of the man kneeling before her. She wanted to see him—not as the faceless figure in the suit, but as the person beneath.
Peter’s Spider-Sense tingled, and his reflexes kicked in. He felt it—the subtle tightening of her hand at the back of his head, the faint tug that followed. Adrenaline surged through him, and his left hand instinctively moved, smacking softly against the wrist of her right hand.
A splat echoed, and her right hand froze in place—she couldn’t move it. Did he? No… he had! He’d done exactly what he’d warned about, webbing her hand firmly to the wall. Lowering her leg from his shoulder, he wiped his chin and lips with his uncovered hand - succumbing to the irresistible urge to lick his fingers.
Despite having just been nestled between her thighs, his fingers still slick with the remnants of her climax, Peter couldn't resist the urge to bring them to his lips, and as he sucked the fingers that had just been inside her, he let out a low, throaty groan, the sound vibrating through the air as he savoured the taste of her, his eyes closing in rapture as he indulged in her flavour. "I told you—the mask stays on."
She wanted to be angry, but she couldn’t—not after the performance. The low, husky tone of his voice, the gentle rumble of his words, and the unmistakable bulge in his pants, all combined to send a pulse of heat straight back to her core, reigniting the embers of her desire and making her feel like she was being pulled under again.
She struggled to pull her wrist free from the webbing that bound her to the wall. "The more you struggle, the tighter it’ll hold you to the wall," he said, his tongue flicking out to brush against his bottom lip. "What?" she gasped, her chest heaving, her breasts straining against the sweetheart neckline as she looked at him bewildered. Noticing the way the eyes of his mask narrowed, his head dipping slightly downward, and the faint, almost hesitant curve of an awkward smile on his lips. "Up here," she called out to him, all traces of nervousness and embarrassment tossed to the wind as she pointed to her eyes.
His head snapped toward her, only to dart away just as quickly. In an instant, he stood at his full height as F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice slipped into his ear, calm but urgent: 'There’s a robbery happening right now at Artisan and Carat in Midtown Manhattan—seven heavily armed suspects, three hostages.' He bent down, retrieving his discarded glove with practiced ease, as F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice chimed in once more, her tone still measured but tinged with urgency. 'If you leave now, estimated arrival is approximately ten minutes. Casualty risk remains low, but it’s increasing,' she informed him crisply. As she spoke, a video feed patched through to his mask’s holographic interface, displaying live footage of the robbers inside the store. His jaw tightened as he took in the scene—the heavily armed suspects pacing, their movements erratic, and the hostages cowering in fear.
She wondered what had caused the sudden shift in his demeanor. One moment, he had been looking at her with that awkward, almost endearing smile, and the next, he was tense and poised, as if ready to spring into action. Her thoughts were interrupted as he reached for the glove on the ground, sliding it back onto his hand with a practiced efficiency. The motion only added to the growing sense that something unseen was pulling him away, his focus no longer on her but on some urgent, invisible call.
He glanced at her, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features as he struggled with the decision. The need to tell her what was happening warred with the urgency to act, to save the hostages before it was too late.
She watched as he adjusted the mask, the transformation so swift it left her breathless. In an instant, he was Spider-Man again—an untouchable figure, every trace of vulnerability buried beneath the red-and-blue façade. Yet, she knew something had shifted. She didn’t need to hear the words to feel the weight of them; the urgency radiating from him was undeniable. Whatever had happened, it was pulling him away.
Peter hesitated, torn by the fear that the woman he'd shared such an intimate moment with might think he had used her. Yet, as F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice punctuated the seconds with time estimates and escalating risks, he knew he had no choice but to act.
Backing into the alley, Peter’s voice came in a rush, tumbling over itself. "The web’s gonna dissolve! Like, really soon! Stop struggling, you’re only gonna make it worse!" The words left his mouth so quickly, they almost blurred together.
Without waiting for a response—or even checking if she listened—he shot a webline and launched himself forward. The pull of the swing was immediate, his grip tightening as he zipped up and away. The city blurred beneath him, a streak of light and sound.
“Peter,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. snapped in his earpiece, her tone clipped. “You’re three blocks off course. Redirect immediately.”
“I’m trying, I’m trying!” he shouted back, adjusting his trajectory mid-swing. His breath was quick, his heart racing as the sharp whistle of wind roared in his ears.
Behind him, her faint voice reached him for just a moment—a fleeting sound he couldn’t make out before the city swallowed it whole. It lingered in his mind, though, even as F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s next instruction pierced the chaos.
She watched as he backed into the alley, the weight of his words hitting her like a blow. "The web’s gonna dissolve! Like, really soon! Stop struggling, you’re only gonna make it worse!" he called out, his voice sharp and hurried. Panic welled up inside her as she saw the decision he'd already made.
Before she could stop him, he sprang into action, launching himself forward. His web shot out, anchoring to a building, and in a heartbeat, he was gone—soaring through the night sky, the city swallowing him up. Desperation clawed at her throat, and she shouted after him, her voice breaking, "Wait! Don’t leave me like this!"
The cold reality hit her like a wave—she was trapped. Lace panties ripped and discarded pinned to the wall of the alley behind her apartment complex, she struggled against the sticky web, but it held firm. Her eyes darted to her purse, lying just out of reach on the ground. Panic crept in as she thought of everything inside—her phone, her keys—everything she needed to free herself or call for help.
She forced herself to take a deep breath, steadying the panic that threatened to consume her. The sticky web anchored her firmly to the wall, leaving her helpless but determined to keep calm. Her gaze landed on her purse, lying just out of reach, and a flicker of frustration crept in.
"Spider-Man," she murmured softly, almost to herself, her voice tinged more with disbelief than anger. A faint ache settled in her chest—not from the web, but from the realization that he had left her here, pinned and powerless, without so much as a second glance. She shifted her weight, trying to slide down the wall, but the web’s grip made even that a struggle, her pinned hand rendering the effort awkward and futile.
The sting of his absence was sharper than the situation itself. Only moments ago, they'd shared something so raw, so vulnerable, and yet he'd left her here, tangled in this mess without a word of explanation. Did it mean nothing to him? The thought gnawed at her, a hollow ache twisting in her chest. She had trusted him, let him in—and now, she was abandoned and alone.
The weight of it settled over her, sharp and unrelenting. She blinked back the tears threatening to spill, her chest stinging as the reality sank in. She’d been the one to kiss him first, to close the distance between them—but she had thought it meant something more. The way he had taken off, leaving her pinned and alone, stung in a way she hadn’t expected.
Her shoulders trembled slightly as she steadied her breathing, forcing herself to push the hurt aside. Once she was free, that would be it. Spider-Man could swing off into the night for all she cared. She wouldn’t think about him again—not his voice, not his touch, not the way he’d made her feel, if only for a moment.
Summary: Y/N and Steve have a complex relationship. On a busted mission, some conversation pieces come up that need to be solved.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (Avenger)
Word Count: 3100+
A/N: I did a small poll on who I should write for next, and I got an even amount of votes, so I decided on Steve! I haven't written for him for a long time and thought it was deserved this long in. So enjoy these fluffy enemies to semi-lovers one-shot :)
______________
Steve watched, as if in slow-mo, as a knife passed his face and embedded itself into the chest cavity of a man close to getting the jump on him.
"So much for having this mission in the bag, huh?" Y/N's sly comment followed as she jumped from a banister down to the level Steve was on in the attic of an old church.
"The rule was no killing," Steve grunted in frustration as the man he had grasped by the neck fainted, and he tossed him to the side.
"Yeah, well, someone was going to die, and it was either him or the person who's supposed to be running this mission. You should be grateful I didn't choose the second option," she smirked, straightening her tactical vest as she scanned their surroundings. "What's the update?"
Steve could have reprimanded her more, as he was used to doing, but they were on a time crunch, and the men they were sent to take in under SHIELD's order hadn't gotten the memo of no killing.
"Masgood isn't here," he sighed, swiftly anchoring his shield to his back. "He must have gotten word we were coming and staged the place to look like he'd be here."
"Yeah, it seems to be his MO," Y/N sighed, bending as she dug through the pockets of the unconscious assailant.
"What are you doing?"
"Checking the body for clues, duh," she replied with a tone of disinterest. She paused, looking up at Steve. "I know this isn't your first rodeo, so why are you acting like it?" One of her forearms rested on her knee as she squatted over the body and dug through his pockets unbothered.
Steve rolled his eyes and shifted on his feet as look at the space. "Something feels off about all this."
"When does it not? We chase bad guys with evil and sadistic intentions as our career. I'd be worried if it felt right," she grunted softly as she stood up and moved to another body.
Steve moved to a window off to the side and looked at the street and environment below for any more clues.
Their target was a man in charge of a large human trafficking ring. Ivan Masgood. An infamous drug lord who started poking around in a new field of illegal activities. Like most felons, he had personal goons and connections that kept him close to untouchable, but SHIELD had plans to shut that down now that he was tapping into the stealing of innocent adolescents from the streets.
"I say we tie these idiots up for the agents that'll come clean up this mess and make our way to the restaurant down a few blocks. Looks like a good Mediterranean place," she sighed, walking over and leaning against a pillar behind the window where Steve was monitoring pedestrians.
Steve turned to her with an annoyed face, one that was a staple for their duo and eyed her.
"We're on a job. A job that involves a man who is taking advantage of innocent children."
"Yes, and we can't solve it on an empty stomach," she shrugged, pushing on the wood. "And this place is empty. We've handled the few goons here, and now we move on."
"Is it really that simple to you?" Steve huffed, crossing his arms as he turned to her.
"If by simple you mean the practiced next step, then yes. It is," she nodded with no hesitance, even with his stern glare fixed on her.
"You're impossible to-"
"Shhh," she hushed, raising her hand and slightly turning her head.
Steve knew better to question her when she did that. Her hearing was better than his most of the time. Her enhancements weren't far from his own, but sometimes they proved to be even more sensitive than his.
He mouthed a "What?" and she shook her head as a hint to hold on. A few moments passed before she shook her head and returned to reality.
"False alarm," she turned, looking at the only door in and out of the attic. "Help me tie these assholes up, and then we're getting dinner."
"Y/N," Steve started, but she ignored him and searched for rope or anything of length to keep them secure.
Three men tied up with both electric chords and Christmas lights were still unconscious as Steve called in the clean-up crew that was there minutes after Y/N and Steve were in the front of the church, giving a quick rundown of their mission.
"It was a 50/50 shot, Cap. Can't get too hung up on it," Rodney, one of the agents who had been working on the case with them, assured.
"Doesn't make it any less frustrating," Steve sighed before grunting at the pressure hitting his chest. He looked down to see Y/N holding a pile of clothes on his sternum.
"Change. We have a date," She grinned, already in street clothes herself.
He gave her a once over and noticed the small grin on Rodney's lips before he quickly walked away.
"Y/L/N!" Steve yelled after her as she turned and was already moving on to her next task. He groaned and slumped as he looked at the jeans and baseball Henley picked out for him. A hat and sunglasses paired on top.
__________
"Why are we here?" Steve grumbled under his breath as they sat in a booth at the Mediterranian restaurant that looked family-owned but had the ambiance of a well-off family—the two fit in a way that raised a few questions.
He wasn't sure how she had managed to drag him there, but either way, he was there, and something about Y/N orchestrating this entire meal left him confused.
"I haven't had a full meal since last night," she answered, staring at the menu before grabbing the waitress's attention as she balanced two plates in hand. "Can we get the drink menu, please?"
"I'll grab it on my way back," she smiled kindly, her voice accented with a Grecian tongue.
"Thank you," Y/N smiled back kindly and went back to the menu. "I heard their Sangria is amazing. And it's homemade."
"Y/N," Steve ground through his teeth. He was fed up with this side quest that served no purpose. "What are we doing here?" he articulated each word.
"Jeez, Cap. Get the popsicle stick out of your ass and relax some. We're just having dinner and waiting for the show," she responded, putting the plastic-covered menu down and throwing her arm over her side of the booth.
"What show-"
"Drinks?" a teenage boy who looked to be one of the owners' kids begrudgingly asked for their orders.
"I'll take water for now, and this one will have a double scotch neat to help ease his never-leaving glower," she smiled up at the kid, who just blinked at her, and Steve burned holes in her head from the side. "Water. We'll both do water."
"Right…" the kid grumbled, not bothering to write the order as he stalked off.
"You said this had to do with the case. That's the only reason I'm here," Steve intertwined his hands on the table and took a breath as he watched her. In truth, she had vaguely mentioned something about the case, and he ran with that one bullet point, which put him in this position.
"Tell me. How does one sign up to gain your trust? Do I have to jump in the line of fire a second time to get it, or is it like whoever gets your coffee order right without asking? Maybe something in between there?" she leaned forward on the table.
Six months ago, Y/N had jumped in front of a blast from a mutant's powers for Steve, and it had benched her for over a week with the aftereffects.
He hadn't expected her to make that kind of sacrifice, and he had been more than grateful and did his best to show it during her healing time and afterward. But at the end of the day, her snarky comments, struggle to stay professional, and blatant disregard for orders made it hard for him not to be aggravated when she did things.
"It's not trust as much as it's being out of the know for what the real reason for us being here is," he softly said when she looked at him with eyes that seemed to genuinely want to know why he treated her with little patience where he normally gave it freely. "I like to be informed."
She watched his eyes closely as if waiting for the but, but then she tensed ever so slightly, and her eyes flicked behind his shoulder casually.
"That's also known as trust. Not knowing the reasons but counting on the person putting you in the position that they wouldn't do it with ill intent. But if you want your answer, it's behind you. Careful how you turn," she said with a straight face as she looked out the window next to them.
Steve furrowed his eyebrow but discreetly twisted enough to see what she was alluding to.
There he was. Ivan Masgood. With four bodyguards around him and a few associates coming through the back entrance, one of the employees ushered him to a secluded corner for him and his posse.
When Steve turned back around, Y/N was on her phone as if just another customer waiting for their meal.
"How'd you-?"
"I'm good at my job despite what some think." Her comment wasn't missed by Steve, and he could hear the slightest bit of pain in her words. "I overheard some of his goons talking not so confidentially at the church. He stupidly gave away their Randevu point and mentioned a meeting with a potential contact while they waited for us to fall for the trap."
"Was it the two at the front door?" Steve questioned, thinking back to their infiltration of the church/ hideout.
"Yeah, dumb and dumber. I think they just got promoted cause the one who leaked this info bragged about being moved to guard his private residence." She put her phone away and fiddled with the paper wrapper from the straw as she explained. "I can promise if they figure out how we got the intel to come here, he will not be guarding any residence in the near future."
Steve was a little surprised. Y/N had always been good at her job. Hell, there was a reason she ran with The Avengers themselves. Super enhancements helped, but she'd always been more than resourceful in her spying, too.
But sometimes, he didn't see her as taking her job seriously, so when she got the jump on things before him, he felt bad for undermining her.
He monitored the place now that it was a possible environment for a fight. Taking note of the details like exits, number of people, tables, resources, and make-shift weapons if needed.
"Have you contacted Rodney?" he asked as he casually surveyed the place.
"Just messaged. They'll have a team a block away to go if needed," she nodded. "For now, we eat," she smiled overly brightly as the waiter came back over with their drinks.
They ordered, but Steve got the smallest appetizer only to make it less conspicuous as customers.
"Eagle's leaving the nest," Y/N hummed as she ate the last bite of her meal, and the group they had been monitoring walked toward the back alley.
Steve shifted in his seat just enough to see the exit, and they both nodded in confirmation of their next move. Y/N slapped down a wad of cash and shuffled out of the booth where Steve offered his hand, and they left out the front.
For the second time that day, Steve watched as a blade whirled past him, but this time, it implanted itself into the tire of an SUV in the back alley, followed by a loud pop.
The assailants hoping to make a getaway were out of a car now, and Steve had taken the advantage to knee the driver's side door where the man halfway in it, ricocheted his head off the frame and collapsed on the ground.
"On your left!" Y/N shouted as she rangled her own opponent, and Steve noticed another one of Masgood's men escaping.
Not wanting to lose his position since Masgood himself was still in the car he had cornered, he angled and calculated the right throw for his shield to take him down. And with the right aim…
"Fuck!" the man shouted before falling down to the concrete seconds after getting smacked in the temple with the vibranuim disc.
Steve turned after hearing Y/N grunt and saw that two of her attackers had cornered her and were getting a jump on her.
"Y/L/N!" he shouted, stepping her way, but she used another man's body as if a wall and walked her feet up his torso until she was backflipping and rendering them both helpless instantly.
"Rogers, Masgood!" she panted once back on her feet and pointed behind him.
Masgood had pulled out the other side of the car and was positioning a gun right at Steve. Everything happened so fast that Steve didn't know where the gunshot had landed after he ducked from the barrel.
A scream followed, and thinking his aim hit someone else, Steve looked around for the injured only to see Masgood holding his shoulder where the butt of a blade was jutting out.
"You fucking bitch!" Masgood turned his attention to Y/N, who had been smiling at her shot. He dropped quickly to grab the gun that fell out of his grip, but before he could get to it, Steve slid over the hood and tackled him.
"That's no way to speak to a lady," Steve gritted out as he pinned him to the ground and brought his hands around his back.
Any of Masgood's men that may have escaped the narrow alley had been caught by the backup team Y/N had set up a block away. By the time the fight was over, eight men were already in custody, and Masgood was locked in a contained SHIELD van.
After going through a briefing with Rodney, who had been instructing the team outside the alley, Steve and Y/N finally took a minute to breathe.
"Thanks for packing my shield," Steve said kindly as they moved to their SUV.
"Didn't want to have you fighting without your comfort item," she smiled but winced as she rolled her shoulder.
"You ok?" he stopped in his tracks, moving in front of her to keep her from going any further.
"I'm fine," she mumbled, moving her shirt sleeve and looking at her arm for the wound. "Just a scratch."
Steve didn't hesitate to shift the long sleeve to see the cut in the fabric and the blood that had soaked through it.
"You were supposed to get checked by the medics," he studied the injury, and she hissed at the pressure of his gentle touch, which was enough to sting.
"It's nothing a bandaid can't fix. Besides, it'll be a scar come morning," she tried to brush his hand off, but he gave her a stern look at the action. "Why are you so worried? I figured you could care less if I walked out with a katana protruding from my gut."
Her eyes refused to meet his, and he hated the feeling that overcame him at the idea that she thought he wouldn't be phased by something like that.
"That's not true," he said gently, his hand loosened its grip but didn't leave her arm.
"You sure as hell don't act any other way," she mumbled, looking at his hand and placing her own on his to try and remove it. "Seriously. You don't have to act like you care just cause you feel bad-"
"Y/N, I'm not acting," he turned her face to his, gripping her chin between his thumb and index finger. "I would never wish to see you hurt."
She didn't fight the hold he had her in, but she gave him weary eyes at his comment.
"Your words tell me otherwise, Steve." Her words were said with a form of hurt that he never pictured her holding.
"I'm sorry," he lowered his head every so slightly to catch her eye line better. "I'm sorry that I'm a hardass around you and make you feel like I'd rather see you hurt or injured than alive and well."
"I don't understand what I've done to-" she started and pulled her head back before he, without thought, pulled her arm he had a grip on into him, making her body crash into his.
She froze initially, but when his arms wrapped around her back, he rested his head on her. She sighed and fell into it. She needed that hug more than he realized.
"You get on my nerves, Y/L/N, but it's not in a way that I'd wish never to experience it again. I act like I can't stand it, but truthfully, I need someone to keep me in check the way you do," he muttered as he rested his chin on her head. "I'm sorry I don't give you the benefit of the doubt where you deserve it most."
"Why?" she mumbled into his chest.
"Honestly?" he hummed, pulling her back and looking at her still in his embrace. "I think it scares me how much I actually care when you drive me as crazy as you do."
Her eyebrows furrowed, and she turned her head at him.
"What do you mean, Rogers?" she said in almost a whisper.
"I mean, I can't wrap my head around how you constantly get on my nerves, but I like it."
There was a pause as they stared at each other, and her lips slowly curved.
"Steve. Are you confessing that you may actually like me?" she grinned.
He chuckled under his breath, making his chest vibrate.
"I'm confessing that we may have some things to figure out, I guess," he nodded, not feeling hesitant at surprisingly admitting that.
"Well, isn't that a 180 from how we started the day," she laughed, pulling back. "How about we stop for a sweet treat for this discussion that I'm definitely pulling you into when we get to the compound?"
"Am I going to regret confessing this?" he scrunched his nose but couldn't help the smile that followed.
"It's me. What do you think?" she shrugged, moving toward the SUV passenger side.
"Good to know our ways aren't changing much," he sighed, following behind her to open her door.
Y/n:well I mean someone marries you with joy and excitement and some people really look forward to their wedding day and you just fuck em on the night of the wedding
Loki:
Y/n:THEIR PARENTS TRUSTED YOU TO LOOK AFTER THEIR CHILD I MEAN HOW CAN YOU DO THAT?
Loki:Is that why we aren't married?cause I assure you Odin does not mind me getting fucked
Summary: After the death of Vision shortly after the birth of her twin boys, Wanda moves into a small city in Jersey and opens a bakery. Which is where she meets you and starts a friendship with you but shortly after it starts Wanda ends up developing feeling for you. What does she do?
Characters: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Warnings: Baker! Wanda, mention of the avengers, mention of vision as well, fluff, useless lesbians, bakeries and food.
word count: 4.4k words
A/N:everyone go thank @whelpimhere for the prompt, she is the best person in the whole wide world!!!!!!!!! also the way i was gonna have this posted Thursday but everyone and their mother kept interrupting me and making me run errands.
Happy reading besties!!!
Let it be known that Wanda had no plans of ever having a crush on you. After the death of her husband and the birth of her twin boys, romance was not on her list of priorities because her main goal was to be the best and do the best for her kids. Plan on having a crush on someone who became one of her closest friends ( Next to Natasha but she doesn’t have to know that information of course) was not on her list.
She had gotten a love for baking ever since she was a little kid and it had continued as the years went on. It only grew stronger when she had joined the Avengers having access to the best ingredients and items to bake whatever recipe she found online. Tony has spared no expense when it came to groceries for the team and Wanda used that to her advantage very much. It’s how she ended up bonding with Natasha, late nights when both of them couldn’t sleep due to nightmares, and ended up baking famous desserts from Russia and Sokovia. It’s where she ended up falling for the synthezoid Vision, teaching him to bake some of her favorite desserts which he would keep in the back of his mind when Wanda had a bad day and needed something to cheer her up.
So once she was done for good with the Avengers, Wanda had decided to open up a little bakery in new jersey. It was an excellent way to keep her busy while the boys were at school along with something to occupy her mind. Many on the team had tried their best to convince her to stay but it would bring too much sadness to be in the area that reminds her too much of the love of her life. Plus she wanted a fresh start in which she could heal from his death and have the “ ideal family life” she had seen in some of her favorite sitcoms.
Lucky for Wanda, she wasn’t all alone in the town when she had moved in or when she was opening a bakery. She had some friends for support like the remaining avengers, her neighbor to her left Agatha, and you.
Wanda had met you and Agatha 6 years after she had moved to the small town with her then-baby boys, meeting Agatha as well. After college, you had moved into Westview, finding an affordable home close to where you work and avoiding a long commute. Agatha had seen you struggling with some of your boxes, and immediately made friends with you, claiming you need someone to “ have fun within such a boring town” or whatever. That day you were tired from driving so you just smiled and nodded at whatever she said. After a week of unpacking, and waiting for furniture to be delivered, you had a little get-together with Agatha as well as her mystery plus one.
Which is where you met Wanda and had become best friends right away. Both of you had the same taste in tv shows, books and music so it was no shock to anyone that you’d click right away. Along with that both of you always seem to be up at the early hours of the night, Wanda because of the kids and you with many deadlines your boss had given you that you’d have to finish late at night at home.
Years ago
“ How are the babies Wanda?” you ask her on your phone, Wanda and Tommy on facetime with you as you are trying your best to finish this deadline so you can get 4 hours of sleep.
“ Billy is fast asleep while Tommy here,” she shows the 1-year-old boy she’s holding on her side who seems to be wide awake,” wants to help Mommy with some cleaning here in the kitchen instead of sleeping like his brother”
“Oh poor baby, “ you say to her as you finish the last of the project,” once I send the last of this to my boss I can give both of you my undivided attention,” you tell her through the phone and successfully send the email with 20 minutes to space from the deadline that was set.
“ finally y/n, now can you tell me about what your mystery admirer sent today to your house,” the redhead says to you, trying her best to get Tommy to sleep and failing badly.
“ Well yesterday they left a box of some of the best croissants ever, I’m talking stuff that would be found in Paris, god they were amazing and today they left some snickerdoodles at my door when I got up,” you show both of them the box of cookies left for you when you got up for work. Tommy just continued to make baby noises as he had no sense of what cookies were while his mother was smiling like crazy at how excited you had gotten over the box of cookies.
It had been about 4 weeks since a mystery person had left you baked goods for you in the morning, just leaving a note with said dessert and you still have not gotten close to finding out who it was.
“ Oh, snickerdoodles!!! How amazing, I wonder if y/n had figured out who sent them all this food,” she says to her son and he giggles at the baby voice being used by his mom, as Wanda continues to hear about the dessert that was left to you.
Around the time that the boys were around one year old, Wanda had developed a crush on you and had been having a hard time trying to “ woo” you or whatever modern term the kids use these days.
You can’t blame Wanda for not having the moves with you, at the time it was still weird for her to even like someone after Vision had died. It felt like she was betraying him by liking you so she had hoped that maybe if she had dropped off some stuff she had baked for you before heading to the bakery in the morning, then you could get the hint about the crush the woman had on you.
So far there’s been no progress at all with her crush on you, only seeming to grow bigger as the years went on, especially when you spent more time with the boys when Wanda had gotten busy with the Bakery, having to hire 2 people to help her out. She didn’t think it would be such a hit in Westview but she was happy nonetheless with all of the new customers and the happy faces who came to taste her desserts.
“ Are you sure you can take care of the boys while I deal with the problem at the bakery? I don’t want to have you babysit on your day off and stuff -”
“ Wanda I don’t mind taking care of them, now go and deal with the new hire while the three of us watch some paw patrol,” you say as the 3-year-olds are too busy paying attention to the plot of the show.
Whatever plot you can’t seem to figure out always seems to get their attention for what feels like hours.
Your friend gives you a checklist that’s meant for her babysitter, kisses them on the head before making her way out of the house to go and help the new hire at the bakery before he ends up setting the place on fire by doing something dumb.
Once she helps the dude with the unexpected rush of customers, Wanda finally comes home to see the three of you sitting on the living floor. Both of them are putting their full attention on you as you show them some of the Lego sets that you’ve built over the years, having a whole folder on your phone dedicated to it.
“ Boys Mommy is home!!!” Wanda announces and both of them run off from their spots to greet their mom with a big hug.
“ How were the boys y/n? Did you have fun with y/n boys?” she asked and hoped that nothing went in the couple of hours she was gone. As much as she loved the boys, they sometimes have a problem with making babysitters quit, so maybe the universe can help her out and hoped they were on their best behavior
“ Mommy we had fun with auntie y/n,” Tommy says and Billy nods in agreement with his brother.
“ Y/n let us have ice cream and then we got to watch some tv and she even showed us legos,” Billy says with excitement in his voice, mostly from the ice cream you had given him but still very much a good response.
“ Yea mommy, can we get legos like the ones y/n has?” Tommy says and gives Wanda some of his best puppy eyes.
“ If you and your brother go and clean up the mess in the living room,” she points to the mess of toys,” we can go to the store” and both of the boys run off to clean up the mess of toys while you get up to go and talk to Wanda.
“ Both of them were on their best behavior don’t you worry,” you say and place your hand on her shoulder which takes Wanda a bit to wonder what this means,” as always if you need me to babysit here or at my house, I’m always happy to”.
“ You're the best friend ever you know that y/n?” Wanda says to you in a sweet tone and you smile back at her.
She has no idea how the fuck this crush on you hasn't killed her yet or how you haven’t figured out it was her delivering all the desserts.
It even leads to the both of you sometimes having late-night baking sessions after the boys fall asleep or when Natasha along with her sister Yelena volunteer to babysit the twins while she handles the stuff in the bakery.
By “ Handling stuff “ that means baking different types of desserts while you taste test them and give your honest opinion on them. What else did you think?
It was a nice Thursday evening, the sunset had just set in Westview as the redhead across from you is testing out a new flavor for cookies she wants to sell along with some cupcakes as summer gets closer. It had been kind of sweet and a little domestic just watching the redhead do her magic as she reads over different recipes that have been in her family since she was a small child.
You didn’t even notice that you were zoned out watching her bake until you felt some flour hit your face, Wanda on the other side of you giggling like an idiot that she caught you off guard, unaware of the reason behind it.
A couple of seconds pass by as you quickly move items with sort of value away from her baking station and an all-out food fight begins in the kitchen. Loud laughs and cheers can be heard by everyone within half a mile, both of you not giving 2 shits if you get called by the police for being too loud.
20 minutes later, both of you call it a draw ( Wanda trying to claim that she won fair and square), and you spend another 30 minutes or so cleaning the mess that you had created in the bakeries kitchen, not wanting to piss off the employee who had closed that night after hearing about the food fight and the aftermath of it.
Wanda managed to bake like she had wanted to even with the impromptu food fight that occurred. Both of you sit in front of the oven, patiently waiting for the cupcakes to be done so the cookies can bake. Just happy to enjoy the silence and energy between the two of them in the kitchen.
“ y/n???”
“ Yeah Wanda?” you ask her.
“ Did you ever figure out who that secret admirer was ?”
“ I have not Wanda,” you say looking at her,” why are you asking me ?”
“ Well,” she says and avoids making eye contact with you, afraid of the reaction of what she’s going to admit to you,” I do know who is it”.
Better late than never to tell you that she’s been the one leaving an assortment of desserts at your door. It’s a surprise to hear that you still haven’t figured it out yet but then again if you don’t get a good amount of sleep, it’s hard for you to think.
“ Wait, are you telling me all this time you’ve known who it was Wanda?????” you say in a surprised tone. It’s not that you’ve been hating all of the food they have been delivering, it's saved you so much money since this has started but with your busy job, there’s been a difficulty with trying to figure out who the mystery person is.
Most of your free time that you do have, is used for sleeping or helping out your friends ( mostly Wanda if you had to be honest) with whatever problems they had. Sometimes even put together some amazing lego sets to display in your office as well.
As you patiently wait for Wanda to tell you who the mystery person is, the alarm that she had set on her phone rings at the perfect moment. She wanted to tell you but her thoughts were getting the best of her, unfortunately.
She decided to tell you another time when it’s just the both of you and she isn’t focusing on baking and her business.
Maybe she’ll start to telling over people about it.
Which she decides to do when she gets back home from the bakery to see Natasha and Yelena in her living room, with both of her boys sleeping on either side of them. It’s kind of a cute thing to see but feels it’s too risky to take a picture.
“ I’ll take the boys to their bed,” Yelena mouths to her as she wakes up the boys so they can sleep in their room.
Once Yelena has both of them Wanda gives her a thumbs up and smiles, and Natasha gives her a questioning look. She knows her too well to know that something must be up, probably having to do with you.
“ Wanda are you okay?” Natasha asks her and that’s when Wanda decides to tell her about you, well she knew who you were but the part about having a crush on you. Yelena even got to hear a bit of the story and once she was done, all Wanda could feel at the moment was relief that someone heard her talk about you.
She also feels hopeful that after telling both of them about you, they could help her come up with a plan so she could say to you without being nervous. And that’s what the three of them 2 for the next three hours, accompanied by the help of coffee.
“ She needs to go big Natasha, Wanda would want to impress this y/l/n chick,” Yelena states, being firm on her plan of doing something big and over the top while Natasha is on the other side of this. Keep it plain and simple so she can make the point.
“ Let me guess Yelena, you got it from all those cheesy romcoms??” Natasha says to her younger sister, getting flipped off by the blonde for liking those types of movies for the cheesy romance and predictable plot.
“ They are not cheesy! It's funny for you to say it’s cheesy when I saw you watching the wedding planner the last week when it came back from the mission with Kate”.
“ for research stupid”
“ Sure it was Natasha, cause by the looks of it you seemed to be intrigued by the plot and I saw no paper around you STUPID-”
“ Okay call me stupid one more time- “
“ Stupid”
“ I’m gonna tell Kate about the time you stole her leftover mac and cheese that she bought from that once fancy restaurant.”
“ YOU WILL NOT TELL HER NATASHA OR IM GONNA FIGHT YOU” Yelena whisper yells to her sister in an attempt to wake up Billy and Tommy from their slumber
“ And I’m gonna win”
“ Sure Natasha with your lame tech”
“It's not lame “
“ Lame”
“ Now call me lame one more time-”
“ WILL BOTH OF YOU STOP ACTING LIKE A BUNCH OF DUMMIES AND HELP ME FIGURE OUT HOW THE FUCK I’M GONNA TELL Y/N,” Wanda whisper yells at both the widows which makes them shut up right away. It didn’t even wake up the boys at all too so she’s happy about that. They both take a break from arguing like a bunch of idiots to help their friend with her current problem.
Yelena and Natasha stop and both find a way to combine their ideas, and one hour after their 5-hour brainstorming session, both of them were able to come up with a plan for Wanda
~
Wanda knocks on your door a couple of times, holding a box of heart-shaped cookies that were personally decorated by Billy and Tommy themselves. Who had been woken up by all of the talking at night when one of the boys woke up from a nightmare and had walked into the living to find all the women in their brainstorming session. The plan that was made by the widows was thrown out the window for the plan that both her boys.
“ Can we help with your plan mommy?” Billy asks as Wanda is walking them to school, the question taking her by surprise that the boys were awake when she was with Natasha and Yelena what to do.
“ Wait how do you know about the plan boys ?”
“ I woke up from a nightmare and heard you talking with auntie Nat and Yelena but went back to sleep right after,” Billy tells her and pauses,” And then I told Tommy about it when I woke up the next morning. The next time she sees the widows she’s gonna have to throw a pillow at their faces for being too loud.
The redhead takes a moment to check the time on her phone, she still has 30 minutes til school starts, so it gives her more than enough time to hear the plan Billy and Tommy had come up with.
Which led her to where she’s standing at the moment, a box of cookies made by her, decorated by her sons, a nice card made by herself with a nice written note on it and hopes that all of this goes well for her.
It takes all of her not to check the time on her phone but that would just make her even more nervous than she already is and all she could do at the moment is just waiting for you to open the door for her.
“ Ralph if you need one more fucking egg from me again I'm gonna have to start giving you direction to the grocery store and -, “ you say as you see it’s not your annoying neighbor who never seems to have eggs to cook with,” Wanda hi! What are you doing here so early in the morning??”
“ I came to deliver these cookies that I and the boys made yesterday,” she tells you while handing you the box,” and to also give you this card that I wrote, I’m too nervous to tell you so I wrote my feelings in the card”.
You step to the side to let Wanda in so she can come in while you read the card.
“ Where are the boys?”
“ Asleep right now, Natasha is here so she’s with them so they are not alone in the house,” Wanda says.
Wanda takes a seat on your couch right next to you and you open the card to see the most beautiful design and the sweetest message ever. The woman next to you relaxes for a bit seeing the big smile on your face.
Dear Y/N
When my husband had died when the boys were just babies, I had no idea if I’d even be able to love someone again like I did Vision, and then I met you. I had started off seeing you as just a friend and as both of us spent more time together, I started to develop feelings for you. The feelings I had for you made me feel guilty for having them but you are such an amazing person, so nice to me and everyone around you, helping me with the boys, and so on. I think my favorite thing about you is how good you are with kids, especially when some people might hate kids for no reason, here you are always being so nice, being so cool with them and they love how cool and nice you are( maybe because of the legos for Tommy but I’m not too sure about that being the only reason). So as my feelings started to develop, I decided that sending you different desserts would maybe help you get the hint but clearly, my plan did not work too well in my favor since I’m here rambling.
To make a long story short, I like you so much y/n you have no idea
Sincerely, the mystery dessert person, Wanda Maximoff
You check the back of the card to see the cutest messages ever from the twins too, guess they wanted credit for their part in this too.
Cookie decor by Tommy And Billy :)
“ Natasha and Yelena had this big plan made up,” Wanda start to talk after giving you time to read the card,” but the boys said it was too hard and decided that I should just go simple, plus they wanted to decorate some cookies for you”.
You open the box and 2 heard cookies decorated by what seems to be Wanda and 2 other ones that seem to look like lego pieces, which you assume were decorated by both Billy and Tommy. You make a mental note that the next time you see them, you’ll thank them for the cute cookies.
“I am so dumb Wanda,” you say to her.
“ No, you aren’t y/n”
“ All this time it was you and now I feel bad because you’ve been so nice and yeah I do have feelings because oh my god,” you pause,” Wanda you're like the coolest person I’ve ever known, stupid hot, and like the best mom in the whole world like you could get anyone else and I'm lame -”
Wanda interrupts your rambling to kiss her and to say it’s the best kiss you’ve ever had would be a total understatement. Her lips are so soft on yours, the way she’s holding on to you is so gentle and all you want to do is be in this position with her forever but at some point, both of you do need air to breathe.
“ Hi y/n”
“ You did that because? “
“ To stop you from rambling,” she says with a smile and leads you to the couch so both of you can sit for a while, to bask in the moment.
“ hahaha right,” you tell her and do your best to hide the blush that’s appearing on your face but she stops you from doing that. Wanting to see how cute you look after kissing you like she’s been wanting you for years.
“ If I actually would have seen the clue that it was you I would have realized sooner,” you tell her Wanda.
“ I know but y/n,” she takes a hold of both of your hands,” I know that you would have seen it was me all of those years ago but your job kept you too busy but hey here we are now and that’s all that matters”.
“ I can’t wait to see how everyone else reacts to this,” you tell her.
“ Can I kiss you again Wanda?” you ask her and you pull her to sit on your lap so you can feel her close to you and kiss her some more before she has to leave you.
For the most part, when you do tell people it’s all mostly a good reaction from friends and family.
Agatha is happy but not surprised it took you both this long to admit the feeling both of you had for each other. Something about you being the most useless lesbians she’s ever met, unsure as to what she meant by that but a happy reaction from her anyway.
Both Billy and Tommy were over the moon at the news of both of you admitting your feelings to each other. Her sons gave each other high fives at the fact that their plan went super great, along with the fact that their mom was happy with them. You even got the “ if you hurt her “ talk from the boys when Wanda was in the bathroom but you promised then not to ever break her heart.
Everyone else was also happy for both of you as well. Natasha and Yelena were excited when Wanda had told them but Yelena was a bit mad when they heard their plan wasn’t used.
“ You mean to tell me that we came up with the best plan ever and you threw it away for your kid's plan????” Yelena says a bit in shock.
“ Why are you even mad about it Yelena, we can just use that plan for someone else when the time comes,” Natasha tells her sister to calm her down a bit. She’s also mad at the plan not being used as well, not as mad at Yelena. If there’s something known about Natasha is that she’s very well at hiding emotions from others but Wanda could tell. They were happy to see that their friend was able to find love again nonetheless.
Let it be known, that even after 6 years after the death of her husband, she was able to move on from her feelings for him. Even after she felt like having any sort of romantic feelings for anyone else would be like betraying him, here she was able to tell you how she feels about you.
Overall, Wanda is just excited for the future when it comes to her bakery as it seems to always be increasing with happy customers but also a future where she can be happy and have a romantic relationship with you.
TW/CW: Alcohol, Tony's self destructive tendencies, if there's any more let me know and I'll add them!
A/N: This is something I started many years ago, I just never finished it. I'm currently working on the next few parts, I'm accepting suggestions on where this should go too! It's not the best but I hope you enjoy.
Lugging your suitcase behind you, you hesitantly walked into the elevator. You pressed the button that read 'Floor 12' and waited as it made its way up. You were nervous, you didn't want to be here. Unfortunately, being the newest Avenger meant you had to stay at the tower against your will. You were not impressed.
You finally reached your desired floor, before taking a step out. All eyes drifted to your current position and you felt somewhat nervous. They all stood and made their way over to greet you. You extended your hand towards them, allowing them to shake your hand if necessary. A red headed woman was the first to introduce herself. "I'm Agent Romanoff, I'll be your training partner and mentor. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. Director Fury assigned you to me for a reason. He deems you worthy, now prove it. As an avenger, you have responsibilities and commitments. We look out for each other, okay? Don't screw up." She warned. All you could do was nod in agreement, your eyes slightly widened. Her face softened and that's when she let out a small chuckle. "You can call me Natasha. I promise, I don't bite. I'm sorry for scaring you."
You relaxed as she took your hand and shook it, before turning to the man that stood next to her. "This is Clint. He's annoying, but you get used to it." She earned a groan of playful annoyance from him before he shoved her. She proceeded to introduce everybody else, until she got to the last few members. "Hey, I'm Sam." He smirked, sending you a wink. You couldn't help but scoff. "And I'm not interested." You shot back before turning to the next guy.
"This is Tony, I’m sure you’ve probably heard of him. He owns the tower, designs the equipment we use. Also, his ego is bigger than his wallet, so be warned." She joked. You turned away from him quickly, forcing your attention on anything else. His face dropped, but he quickly fixed it before the others noticed.
"I'm Y/N." you smiled. "Can somebody show me to my room?" Tony was quick to offer his assistance, but you brushed it off. "Nat, do you mind? I do have a few questions…" she agreed and you grabbed your suitcase, following her closely. Tony sighed, pouring himself a whiskey and knocking it back quickly.
Reaching your room, you thanked Natasha, politely declining her offer of assistance before closing the door behind you. Deciding you would unpack, you emptied your possessions onto the floor. You organised your clothes, placing them in your wardrobe shortly after. Your bathroom was then full of toiletries and you even hung up a few photos. It finally suited your style. By the time you finished, you were exhausted. You just wanted to sleep. Unfortunately, sleep was one of your biggest struggles. If you slept more than four hours, or even slept without a nightmare, it was guaranteed you were becoming sick, which also wasn't very often.
A voice filled your room, alerting you that dinner was being served. You knew it was Jarvis. Making your way to the dining room, a familiar scent filled the air. A small smile graced your face as you entered the room, your favourite meal presented on the table. Taking a seat in between Bucky and Clint, you waited until everybody else had loaded their plate before taking your own portion and tucking in. You ate in silence as conversations erupted around you, each person enjoying the food prepared for them as they socialised with their team mates.
"Y/N, why don't you tell us about yourself?" Steve suggested politely. You hesitated, unsure of what to say. "I-uh, I'm not that interesting. There's nothing really important about me." Tony scoffed, causing everybody to raise their eyebrows and turn their gazes to him. You rolled your eyes before continuing. "What do you guys want to know?"
This time, Wanda was the one to ask. "Is there a significant other we need to know about?” She wiggles her eyebrows in a teasing manner, causing you to blush profusely. After shaking your head, Sam piped up. "In that case, how about you and I get to know each other?" The rest of the team laughed as he sent you a wink.
"Like I said earlier bird brain, not interested." You playfully shot back. His right hand lay over his heart and he feigned hurt, causing you to roll your eyes again. "We heard you're pretty smart. In fact, you have similar knowledge to both Tony and I. It'd be nice to have your input on a few projects if you're willing to?" Bruce smiled. You smiled back, nodding your head and confirming your availability to help. Tony watched you inquisitively throughout it all. "You must've had a real good education. Where did you go?" Bruce asked again.
"I was homeschooled, taught by my father until he passed, my brother until the age of 16 and then my Aunt. By then, I knew everything there was to know. All I had to do was go to college to take the exams, the rest is history." You replied. “Your brother must be an exceptional man. I'd love to meet him one day." Bruce responded. You gave a small nod, brushing off any emotions. Steve spoke up again. "So, do you like jogging?" He simply asked. "I do, I go twice a day. Know any good spots?" You questioned. "Sam and I actually go twice a day too, you're more than welcome to join us." You smiled, thanking him before finishing your food.
"Would you care for a drink?" Thor held the amber liquid out to you. Shaking your head, you declined. "I don't drink." You stated casually before standing up and clearing your plate. The rest of the team did the same and you decided to excuse yourself before they could ask you anything else. You bid them goodnight, walking into the elevator and eventually back to your room. Your nightly routine commenced and you slid into your bed, laying in the darkness until your eyes fluttered closed and you fell into a deep slumber.
You were already awake when Steve knocked on your door at the crack of dawn. He was surprised, but didn't think too much of it. You met Sam in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water before making your way to the ground floor and exiting the tower into the cold air. It was refreshing, to say the least. A smile graced your face once again as you made your way to the park. Sam thought it necessary to explain the 'on your left' situation and you were glad. Steve ran ahead of you both. You started off slow with Sam, easing yourself into the exercise. Once you got into a rhythm, you sped up and quickly approached Steve who was miles ahead moments before. "Hey Rogers, on your left!" His face was priceless as you overtook him, a smug look plastered on your face. This continued until you were all satisfied with the miles achieved, making your way back to the tower immediately after. "You got heart kid." He complimented as you exited the elevator. You rolled your eyes as Tony came into sight, a glass of whiskey glued to his hand.
"Tony, it's 10 in the morning. Could you not wait?" Sam enquiries. Tony chuckled, knocking back the drink before pouring himself another. "Isn't it too early for you to be on my case?" He shot back rather defensively. You were somewhat relieved when Sam took the alcoholic beverage and disposed of it, snapping Tony out of his self-destructive tendencies temporarily.
You began walking off, eager to jump in the shower to rid yourself of the sweat. The footsteps behind you got closer and a tight grip around your arm stopped you. "Did you put him up to that?" Tony asked rather harshly. You laughed in the least humorous manner. "I didn't do shit, Stark. Let go of me." He refused, roughly tightening his grip as you stumbled back into the wall. "You need to grow up, Y/N." he sneered. "You have no control over me. As far as I'm concerned, you're dead to me,” you announced, wiggling from his grip and walking quickly to your room, slamming the door and locking it.
You kept your distance for the next few weeks, avoiding Tony at all costs. During dinner, the tension was high and it was clear to everybody you did not get along. If only they knew. Of course, Tony was planning to throw another one of Stark's famous parties much to your dismay. You made it clear you would not be attending.
"But Y/N, it's the first party since you joined! You have to come, it'll be fun. Please?" Wanda begged. You shook your head. "I don't drink, nor do I like parties. I never have." You admitted. Tony rolled his eyes at this statement. "If she doesn't want to go, we can't force her." Bruce defended you. "Don't worry Y/N, I won't be going either." You sent him a thankful smile before walking back to your room, leaving them to plan.
A few days later, it was Tony's party. Hundreds of guests arrived, causing the levels of sound to increase dramatically. The DJ let the music blare and the tower practically shook. The whole team dressed to perfection, giving you a smile before going down to the lower level. You sigh, flopping onto the sofa with your laptop as you begin typing out your work. Fury would kill you if you didn't get it in on time. Bruce checked up on you, bringing you a tea and a few snacks to help you focus. He sat next to you, enjoying your company as you spoke continuously about your research. It had reached 11pm when Bruce began growing tired. He politely excused himself, wishing you a goodnight before traipsing off to his room. Many hours later, the rest of the team made their way up. It was clear they were absolutely wasted, their inability to stand was a major hint. You couldn't help but laugh when Clint tripped and Natasha fell down beside him, laughing harder than she usually would. After helping them off the floor, you lead them to their rooms and ensured they were safe in bed before making your way to your room.
Slipping into your pyjamas, you closed your eyes. Unfortunately, sleep did not come. A loud crash caused you to shoot up from your bed, you grabbed your gun and tiptoed throughout the tower until you found the culprit. Tony was sprawled out on the floor, the glass from the now broken coffee table underneath him. You mentally groaned, you did not want to help him. You knew you couldn't just leave him there. You studied his body quickly, discovering a small cut to his face and hand. Reaching down, you managed to pull him up (with great difficulty) and supported him until you reached the infirmary. Throwing him onto the bed, you grabbed a few supplies.
"Get away from me, what are you doing?" He asked, slurring each word. "You're hurt, I'm helping you." You told him. Using the tweezers, you carefully took the shards of glass from the wounds. He winced, trying to pull away but you held him down. Next, you cleaned it. He let out an audible groan but all you did was roll your eyes. It was his own fault, after all. Luckily, it wasn't too deep. You bandaged his hand and stuck a few steri-strips to his forehead, closing the small wound. You were about to move him again, when he stopped you.
"You don't care, why are you helping me?" He asked. You thought for a moment, not looking him in the eyes. "Because if I didn't, who would?" This silenced him. You steadied him on his feet, before throwing his arm over your shoulder as you took him to his room. You lay him softly, taking his shoes and jacket off and throwing his duvet over him. He seemed satisfied as you lay painkillers and water on his nightstand before turning around. Just as you turn the light off, you hear him. "I know you hate me and I'm sorry..." his snores fill the room as you close the door, brushing off his words and making your way back to your room. "Jarvis, wipe all cctv footage." You demanded. "As you wish." He complied. Soon, you fell into a deep sleep.
If you know me…. I had to make a xmen insert 😭😭 (He/him) I have no info on him but he is fluttershy coded to me…. His name is Fink (so original I know zzz)
Older concepts… plus alt colors for his outfit… his costume is still a wip aswell 😭😭
A collection of all my works. Links and descriptions included:
The Hobbit:
Thorin x reader This is a compilation of short extracts that I have had sat in my drafts for ages, they happen before and during the Hobbit timeline and may one day become a longer fic
Acotar:
Azriel x Reader A night in a shared hotel room leads to confessions of love.
Criminal minds:
Spencer Reid x (gn) Reader A late night working ends with the both of you falling asleep on the couch where the rest of the team find you the following morning.
Spencer Reid x (gn) Reader Part 1- The members of the BAU have noticed a change in Spencer and are trying to reach the botttom of it. None of them are expecting you an energetic artist who is outgoing quite the opposite to Spencers usual quite demenor.
Spencer Reid x (gn) Reader Part 2
Loki
Loki x Reader part 1-When you are invited to a party with the Avengers it is a shock to them all when it is revealed you are in fact engaged to the God of mischief.
Loki x Reader Part 2 - This is a backstory to my Loki x reader promptYour mother takes you to Asgard where you meet Loki and slowly a friendship is formed.
Loki x Reader Part 3 - You and Loki are once again reunited, on the readers home planet.
Loki x Reader Part 4- Loki and you meet at a ball where feelings are finally revealed.
Eric Coulter
Eric x Reader -Reader has been in love with Eric for ages little do they know he feels the same way and everything comes to light after a heated training session.
Izzy Hands
Izzy x Reader -The crew finds out Izzy’s sparrow tattoo has more meaning than meets the eye when someone with a duplicate appears while they are on shore leave.
Izzy x Reader -Ed reveals the reason Izzy is always so grumpy and short tempered is because he got separated from you.
Izzy x Reader - A: You're right. I was jealous. B: I know. A: It was foolish. B: It was. A: Must you agree with me all of the time?
Izzy x Reader You and Izzy come up with a pact. The two are equally matched and decide on a system when they spar. Whoever wins gets to ask a question which the loser must answer. Which after a while turns into a getting to know you.
Boba Fett
Boba x Reader -Reader is a bounty hunter, they have known Boba for a while and when the two get captured readers tattoos are revealed which change colour to reflect their emotions. The two slowly realise perhaps their flirting actually has something deeper hidden underneath.
James Kirk
Kirk x Reader part 1 -This is not based on any episode or film. In this you are half Vulcan but act more human than your brother. Very few people know you are related as your long hair usually hides your ears. Kirk knows your part Vulcan but not that you are related to Spock. You are a science officer, security guard and engineer with a small amount of medical knowledge. Your main job, however, is a science officer.)
Kirk x Reader part 2
Carlisle Cullen
Carlisle x Reader -You are a human and have been dating Carlisle for a while. It is almost Halloween and you want to share your love of pumpkin carving with the family.
