Yes We All Need Him In Our Lives 😩

Reblog to cure his depression

AWWWW THANKS!!!!!!!! I FOUND IT 😊😊😊😊

Hey guys! I'm tryna find a peter Parker x reader fic where it's Peter's Birthday and he thinks that the reader forgot about it because she has been ignoring him ( at least that's what he thinks) due to work but actually she planned a whole party for him and it's all fluff. I really want to read that fic again. But I don't know the title. Please help me find it 😭😭😭😭

🔥🔥🔥😍😍😍

Peter's maid. (Peter Parker x reader)

Summary: Tony hires a new maid that is assigned to Peter's Room.

Mature content 18+, language, maid kink.

Masterlist

You were desperate for a job. Times were tough for your family right now, and there wasn’t much money to spare. You tried keeping positive but it was hard at times. Especially when the new Animal Crossing game came out.

As an inexperienced eighteen year old, you had no idea where to start. All you knew was you wanted to avoid customer service and cleaning.

Until you saw Tony Stark’s advertisement.

In your defense you thought you were signing up for a paid internship, but when meeting his associate the whole dynamic changed. You met with an older man who was quite stoic. He asked you a bunch of questions and even made you provide several background checks. On the third meeting, he looked over his files once more. “Okay.” He mumbled. “You will be expecting a call in the next three to five business days for the maid position. Thank you for coming in.” He sighed.

Your eyes shot up in pure shock. This grumpy old shit must have confused your application with someone else’s. “Thank you.” You politely said not wanting to confront him. You left the office quietly mentally beating yourself up for their mistake. You decided on just trying your luck somewhere else.

As you napped peacefully after school, eyes slowly shutting as you relaxed more and more, your phone went absolutely bananas. “Shit!” You groaned. You lazily sat back up and turned on your phone, messages from your friends kept popping up along with a missed call from an unrecognized number. You saw a voicemail notification pop up right above it. You rolled your eyes and clicked on the notification.

“Hello, this is Stark Industries calling you back about your job application, Y/n L/n? We would love to have you at our office again at, 5pm on Tuesday. Please come prepared for your first day. If you are not present on the property we will give your spot to someone else. Thank you.”

“Oh gosh…” you whispered to yourself. “It couldn’t hurt to check it out right? Maybe I can just explain to them their mixup and maybe then I could be recommended for an internship.”

••••

“So what do you think?”

“Well girl. I think you should like totally go for it.” One of your best friends, Lily said. She ruffled her luscious, long blonde locks.

“You’d be stupid not to!” Your other best friend, Ryan, scolded you.

“What about the whole maid thing?”

“Honey, listen. It’s Stark Industries. Tony Stark is like the richest man alive! He’s a total dilf too! If you’re not gonna take it I’m gonna buy a wig and pretend to be you.” Ryan playfully rolled his eyes. “And if that fails, just tell him you’re the prettiest girl at Midtown high according to the yearbook.”

“When all else fails just use high school popularity!” Lily deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes at Lily and Ryan’s slight teasing but decided it wouldn’t hurt to go. It was a shit load of money after all.

The 6th period bell rang and the three of you grabbed your backpacks and started heading out of the cafeteria. “I’ll see you lovely ladies later, I’m off to show my entire drama class how much more talented I am than everyone else.” Ryan grinned.

“Bye Ry.” Lily and you both sung mockingly.

“What’s your 6th period again this semester? I’m having trouble remembering all of the new changes. I freaking hate the beginning of January.”

“Yeah me too, I’m still writing 2021 on all of my papers.” You laughed. “I have Mrs. Warren now. I love not having her for 8th period, she made the last period of the day drag out sooo long.”

“Why is it better during 6th then?” Lily said as you both began your way up the staircase.

“Because then 7th and 8th I have art and then French so I can relax and not have to be either completely stressed out or completely zoned out. Her class makes me feel like my brain is on fire.”

Lily giggled. “I’m glad then. Hey! Since you have it before me now, can you take pictures of the answer keys now for me?” She pleaded.

“Lily…” You mocked.

“Pleeease! Just one quickie picture when you get the answer keys, especially next Friday! I have no idea what is happening in class right now. I don't know how I’ll be prepared. If you get caught just blame it on me! They can’t expel us, we're in the popular group.” She teased.

“You’re right. “ You shook your head. “Plus you’re dating Flash!” You gasped. “She’ll totally let us get away with it if it comes down to that.” You paused in front of Mrs. Warren’s class.

“I know we’re joking, but can you name one time anyone in our group has gotten like an actual punishment for something they did. They literally like worship us here.”

You sighed. “As much as I hate to say it, yeah. Did you see that Asher only got one detention for giving some kid a wedgie up to his neck?”

“Oh yeah I did!” Lily clicked her tongue. “That’s awful actually.”

“Yeah, no one deserves that. I feel pretty bad about it, I have gym with that guy and he still has marks from the underwear being wrapped around his neck. I also think we as a society should collectively retire the word ``wedgie.”

“Yeah. It’s a really, really gross word.” Lily snorted. “Bitch, I have to go to class. Text me okay?”

“Of course.” You smiled sweetly as you said your temporary farewells.

Upon walking into your class, you saw him. Peter Benjamin Parker. You had always been slightly envious of Peter Parker. Sure, you were popular, breathtakingly gorgeous yet humble, funny, had lots of genuine friends, a nice family, yet the fact that he was always one step ahead of you pissed you off. In middle school, when you first met Peter, you had practically every class with him. Despite you both only having said a few sentences out of all the years you had known each other, you were competitors, in your mind at least. You were always second to Peter in academics. No matter how hard you tried, you could never compare. He always came out on top.

You didn’t hate the guy, hell you didn’t even dislike him. You didn't even know him! You just envied him.

“Hi, Y/n.” Mrs. Warren warmly greeted. “Welcome to 6th period! We tend to go a little faster than in 8th period, but don’t sweat it. I know you can handle it. Take a seat next to Peter, right in front of Flash.” She pointed, nearly causing you to faint. Your legs felt like complete jelly as you made forced eye contact with Peter.

Peter, on the other hand, felt similarly. Despite sitting on the stool, his kneecaps immediately turned into jelly, his cheeks began to blush faint pink and he could feel his heart beating more rapidly. The girl he had been crushing on since middle school was now coming over to sit next to him.

“Hi.” You shyly smiled. “I’m supposed to sit next to you. Could you move a little bit over?”

“Y-Yeah! Of course…” Peter stammered, almost falling out of his seat in the process. You smiled again at him which caused him to turn his head upon seeing your pretty smile. You noticed his awkwardness and smiled again to yourself. You had always found him pretty cute, and seeing him this close up, you realized he was really cute.

You whipped out your phone and turned down your brightness just enough so you, and only you could see your screen. You clicked on the groupchat with Lily and Ryan.

‘Guess who I’m sitting with’

‘Don’t tell me that loser Ken who farts all the time. I had to sit next to that creature for an hour before I demanded a seat change.’ Ryan sent.

‘Guess again.’

‘Brad Hottie Davis?? He’s so into you.’ Lily texted back.

‘Not my type I’m def not into Brad. It’s Peter Parker.’

‘Who?’

‘Who?’

‘I’ll text you guys l8ter. Class is starting.’

••••

The day had gone by slowly and you could feel your head begin to throb as you made your way back to the Stark building. You had to go through heaps of security before entering the same lobby you once were in. A man who you had not recognized stood before you, he gazed upon you just as stoic as the last man who previously interviewed you.

“Hi, Y/n L/n?” He asked.

“Yep, that’s me.” you stammered.

“I’m Mr. Hogan.” He greeted. “So, you were an excellent candidate and Mr. Stark loved your application. Although I was quite surprised someone as qualified as you would apply for a maid job.” he mumbled.

You opened your mouth to speak but your words wouldn’t form.

“Uh okay, take the elevator up to the third floor, check in at the maid station, they will supply you with your uniform and assign your room number.” Happy pulled his phone back out and continued on with a phone call leaving you there.

You had absolutely no idea how to even be a maid, hell you didn’t even know how to clean properly. You had the choice to run out right now. Yet, if you had stayed at this job until payday, you would definitely have enough money to buy Animal Crossing and help out your parents a bit.

••••

In the changing rooms, you opened the box and feasted your eyes on the Stark maid uniform. You pulled it out to see it more closely, not believing your eyes. The top part of the skimpy black dress had a perky white collar, with a cute black bowtie. The bottom half of the dress had a white apron that tied around the waist which had frilly ends. The skirt fluffed out a bit, which had frilly ends as well. You then saw white fishnet stockings that barely reached past your knees. Along with black Mary Jane’s with a slight heel. You shivered upon seeing the uniform in its entirety. You took a deep breath and slipped on the outfit and shoes. It was definitely short, and showcased your legs. You played with your bowtie for a few seconds before turning around. Your butt just barely getting full coverage from the dress. You looked down at the card placed in the box with your uniform and shoes. You were assigned to room 105.

“Am I really gonna fucking do this?” You sighed and looked at yourself in the mirror, almost admiring yourself.

••••

You walked into room 105 and was hit by the stench of Axe body spray, practically burning your nostril hairs off. You were disgusted by the mess. Clothes were thrown everywhere on the floor, the bookshelf was messy and each book was just thrown, the bedside drawer was messy as well with organized clutter and boxes were out just full of stuff waiting to be put away. Not to mention random legos just popping up all throughout the room. “Holy shit!” you exclaimed.

You brought all of the cleaning supplies into the room with you and shut the door behind yourself. Your hands become sweaty just thinking about cleaning this disgusting mess. You had no idea how you were going to pull this off.

As you got started, you noticed the room wasn’t dirty which was a step up. It was just massively unorganized. You put in your earbuds and began to clean. You threw most of the clothes on the floor into the hamper, you hung up the ones on the bed, and gaming chair in the closet, you picked up the tiny lego pieces and set them in the corner of the room and began organizing the bookshelf. You admired the books that sat messy on the shelf, physics books, Star Wars books, chemistry books, and even some comic books. You giggled to yourself as you looked through one of the comic books.

Peter stood on the windowsill and unlatched the lock, he pushed the window upwards and panicked seeing another individual in his bedroom. He sneakily jumped on the ceiling and watched you organize his belongings. You turned around to pick up a small feather duster. He audibly gasped upon seeing you.

His five year crush was now in a sexy maid uniform dusting his book shelf. Peter might have been upside down but that didn’t stop him from taking in every inch of you. He began to feel himself go weaker upon gazing at you and licked his lips as his eyes fell to your cleavage. Last fall when Peter had been in a hotel in Switzerland, he had ordered some porn that showcased a girl in a sexy maid uniform, although she couldn’t compare to you he realized he had some sort of kink for it. That whole week in Switzerland, after fighting and going on missions with the avengers he would masturbate to soothe himself at night.

After organizing the bookshelf you decided to take a break and flopped down on the twin bed. You placed your earbuds away and rested your head on the pillows. You shut your eyes softly and sighed.

“Hey, prettygirl.” Peter jumped down from the ceiling still in suit.

You jumped upon hearing this familiar voice and became even more startled as you fluttered your eyes open to see Spiderman standing above you.

“H-Hi!” You squeaked in terror. Peter could see you tense up and hear your heartbeat increasingly rapidly.

“Oh! Please don’t be scared!” His voice instantly softened. “I’m not gonna hurt you! You see, this is my room.” he said sheepishly.

You looked down and noticed his growing bulge in his pants. Your cheeks instantly flushed again.

Peter noticed the look on your face. “I’m so sorry- do you want me to wait outside for a few minutes?”

“O-Oh it’s okay! I’m just finishing up.” You stammered. You looked up at him and met his eyes. “You just kinda remind me of someone.”

“Who?” the eyes of his mask narrowed.

“What?”

“W-Who?”

“You just sound like this guy I’ve always kinda had a thing for.” Unsure of why you blurted this out to him.

Peter’s heart instantly dropped as he processed this sentence. He stood silent for a minute. “Take off my mask.”

“What?” you exclaimed.

“Take it off…Please.”

Your hands shook as you jumped up from the bed obeying him. He grabbed your wrists and rubbed your arms gently before sliding you even closer to him. Your perfectly manicured hands gently peeled off the mask and before you know it you saw Peter Parker’s deep brown eyes staring back at yours. He looked away slightly as he gave you a toothy grin.

You looked at him in utter shock, searching for anything, anything! To say.

“I really envy you, you know?”

“W-What?” Peter stuttered.

“I’m jealous. I’m jealous of how smart you are. Although, most of all I admire how smart you are. My admiration for you always outweighed my jealousy.”

He looked back at you in pure surprise.

“You know, after all this time. I just realized how much I like you.” You gushed. You wrapped your fingers on his shoulders and pulled him even closer to you.

Peter obeyed and was inches away from your face. Your cheeks blushed being so close to him. “O-Oh!” You flushed. “You can’t tell anyone.” You took a few steps back.

“About?“ Peter still on ecstasy from being so close to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows and tugged on the hem of your skirt. “This!”

Peter examined you for a minute, loving every single second of this. “Well you can’t tell anyone about this!” He mocked you and tugged gently on his suit.

“Oh y-yeah, I still haven’t quite processed you being Spider-Man yet.”

“Well I haven’t quite processed you being a maid yet.”

You blushed again at his words. “I-I really need the money.”

“I respect that really!” Peter rubbed the back on the neck. “It doesn’t look very professional though?”

“It’s the required uniform Tony gives to all the maids.” You explained.

“Oh!” He clicked his tongue. “Now thaaat makes sense.”

You nodded in embarrassment.

“Okay, uh! Well think about it this way. No one will see you like this except me! Because you clean my room-“ he trailed off realizing. You now clean his room. He swallowed slowly.

“Y-Yeah.” You looked down shuffling your feet.

“On one condition.” Peter’s voice cracked.

“Which is?”

“Twirl for me in that sexy maid uniform.”

You smirked at this reply. “I’ll do you one better.”

His eyes widened at your bold statement.

“How about a lap dance?” You winked.

YESSSSS DEFINITELY 💖💖💖

is anyone interested in a multi-part harley keener fic, featuring peter and possibly a love triangle? because i want to write one, but i need to know if people will actually read it lmao

Me 😩

is anybody out there who enjoys reading dark themed stuff?

Everyone was being so protective of me. I loved this lmao 😭🖐️

Webs of Opacity

Summary: On the eve of the annual Stark Halloween party, you’ve managed to gulp down too much alcohol and tangled yourself into intricate webs of trouble. Even glittering fairies can’t escape the drama, and handsome 80’s film characters can’t always save them from sleazy boyfriends and hangovers.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Rogers!reader (adopted, of course), Steve Rogers x sister!reader, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff

Word count: 6k

Warnings: underage drinking, reader being very drunk, unconsented kissing, mild violence

A/N: This is a mess, I’m sorry. Started this last fall and rushed to get it done in time for this year. Also happy Halloween and over a week of Midnights being out. Couldn’t help myself from referencing it every other paragraph lol

Also if anyone has any scenarios or requests for my college series please please send them to me! Love your enthusiasm for my Stark U babies and want to keep writing for them

Masterlist

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Your shiny, entirely fake wings keep bumping into the ridiculous amount of people crammed into this room, and you're sure you have never apologized more times in your life than tonight. Wanda has assured you many times that, no, you should not take off your wings because you look, in her words, adorable. It was her idea, after all, to dress you up like a little flowery fairy for the Halloween party Tony has thrown tonight. She made your wings all fluttery and glittery, and the flowers in your hair sparkle every now and then. It feels like a childhood dream coming true.

"Spider-boy!" you call out over the loud music, jumping as you stretch your hand up in the air to alert the young man twenty feet away.

For a "quiet gathering" there sure are a lot of loud, drunk people here. Then again, it was your mistake to trust the promise of Stark when it came to a party.

Your jumping up and down is entirely unnecessary when you're trying to gain the attention of someone with a creepy sixth sense that allows them to just know everything happening around them. Peter already knew exactly where you were the moment you opened your mouth. It doesn't help that you're just a tiny, little bit of tipsy either.

He smiles a toothy grin as he pushes past the crowd towards you, showing glimpses of his Indiana Jones costume that's honestly a slightly surprising choice. He looks handsome though.

"Hi, Y/n!" he nearly shouts over the music, embracing you in a side hug as he takes a look at your outfit. "You're a fairy! It fits you so great, it's like you were meant to be one,” Peter exclaims happily while you chuckle lightheartedly.

"Thank you, it was Wanda's idea. Indiana Jones, huh?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in question. It's quite uncharacteristic. Last year he went as Nikola Tesla and nobody knew who he was supposed to be.

"Yeah, Tony said I had to go as something cooler this year. He'd disown me otherwise." Peter cringes while your head is thrown back in laughter.

"He told me I looked like a moth earlier," you answer with a grin on your lips, the remnants of your chuckles fading out.

"You look great, Y/n. Very sweet. Think Bucky's gonna get here any second and tell me to keep any 'punks' away from you," Peter tells you. You roll your eyes, though fondly.

"Hm, I bet he will," you hum. "Gotta send him back soon if he keeps that up. Both of them, for that sake."

You nod your head towards the blonde head sticking up in the bar crowd. Your brother is an overbearing mess that you would much rather let you be, instead of hovering protectively around your presence constantly. He seems to have eased up on his duties tonight, though, in honor of the holiday.

"I think it's good that—you know—they look out for you. There are a lot of bad guys out there," Peter says, scratching his head nervously like it would somehow offend you.

"Yeah, that's understandable. Though Steve and Bucky seem to think I'm still a kid." You scrunch your nose fondly.

"Well, you are. Kind of," Peter says. Your mouth hangs agape jokingly, with a silent scoff in answer.

"Oh, that's where we're going! You're only two years older, asshole," you say with a glare, taking a sip from the drink in your hand.

"Those two years make a world of difference." He smiles with a glint in his eyes. "Head off to college and then they'll see you as an adult, maybe."

"I'm going in January—stop looking at me like that!" you yell when he smirks, holding back a laugh. "I'm serious! Alright, okay, we're not playing nice tonight, are we?" You raise an eyebrow in question.

"Sure," he smiles. It falters just as quickly when you snatch the red solo cup out of his hand, gulping down the sweet and bitter liquid before crumpling the cup in your hands. "Hey!" Peter shouts. "You're not 21!"

"Neither are you." A victorious smile adorns your lips. You try not to show the distaste from the bitter liquid burning in your throat.

"In a few months!" Peter blushes and you fight the urge to coo at him because he gets shy over the most peculiar things.

"You're so cute, Parker," you tell him with a bop to his nose.

"Oh, piss off," he says and shakes his head.

"Learnt a new swear word? Impressive. College has really changed you."

"You're really annoying right know, you know that?"

You shake your head frantically, scrunching your nose simultaneously, and there's something different about you that Peter just noticed now.

"You're already drunk, aren't you?" he asks with realization dawning upon him. You gaze up at him with a mischievous glint and a gasp escapes him. "Y/n, Steve's gonna freak out on you!"

"He's never gonna find out. And I'm not drunk. I had three drinks earlier, 's fine," you say with a dismissive wave.

"Three drinks?" he breathes out in disbelief. "That's not little—hey! Hands off, asshole!" Peter interrupts the beginning of his speech to scare away the twenty-something with his hands on your hips.

"Dickhead," the guy mutters under his breath as he backs away. You turn around to meet Peter's eyes with a pout as the guy saunters off, a disappointed frown in between your brows.

"That guy was hot. You scared him away. You ruined my only chance," you pout.

You turn around again before Peter has the chance to answer, roaming your eyes around for the guy. With only a few seconds he's managed to land himself over by the bar, drink raised to his lips as he eyes you hungrily despite Peter's warnings. You smile, biting your lip with a newfound confidence you've never experienced. Yeah, definitely tipsy. Sober you would be hiding away in the cleaning closet by now.

"Well, yeah, he was—Y/n, hello?" Peter lays his hand on your shoulder, turning you around to meet his eyes again. "You know what? We're gonna go for a walk." He lays an arm around your shoulders, gently steering you away from the guy and into the crowd.

"Oh, where?" you ask, already forgotten the source of your previous pout. "Careful of my wings, Parker."

"It's a surprise," Peter says as he loosens his hold around your wings, glancing to see if they're alright. You stop talking almost instantly and for once he's happy to know some silence from you, because right now you can't seem to shut up and he's not used to spending time with your chipper-talkative version.

Peter pushes the two of you through the thick, sweaty crowd filled with lazy costumes and masterpieces alike, ranging from several layers thick to barely covering anything at all. He recognizes some of the people from the compound, some from his college that he doesn't even know how they got here, but most of them are complete strangers.

You send flirty glances and hellos over your shoulder to every guy you gain eye contact with. It's scary how fast the alcohol went to your brain, from being completely unnoticeable to half-drunk in a minute. Peter does not like the drunk you. Or he does, maybe, but not in a room filled with guys who just can't wait to get under your ridiculously cute dress. It's offensive really, how you can manage to look so excruciatingly innocent and hot at the same time. He'll curse out Wanda tomorrow.

The party is so packed with people that it takes ten minutes before he finds the ones he's looking for. Wanda and Natasha sip on their martinis in a ridiculously large couch, gossiping like a bunch of school girls as they shout encouragements at Sam and Tony on the dance floor. Peter sighs, nearly pushing you down on the couch next to Natasha before he slouches down himself.

"What do we have here, huh?" Natasha smirks and takes a small sip of her drink.

"She's drunk. I'm exhausted. Please take her off my hands," Peter says as he throws his head back on the couch. You let out a giggle, leaning against Natasha's shoulder.

"He's exaggerating," you say with your voice muffled by her shoulder.

"Okay, young lady. Drunk, huh?" Wanda asks, raising an eyebrow in question. Her perfectly red lips curl into a smile that shows she's not really upset about it.

"No," you mumble, scratching your nose with your manicured finger for the occasion. "Hiya, Auntie," you coo while curling up besides Natasha.

"Stop calling me Auntie," she mutters and gently pushes you off her shoulder.

"How's your boyfriend? Jake? No, John. Wait! Jack!" you fumble over your words. It might as well be any of the three names, because Natasha has been showing up with a new person on her arm every other month this year. You don't know what it is, really, but you guess you should be glad she's exploring her options.

"Jason," Natasha says through a roll of her eyes. The slightest hint of amusement can be found on her lips, but it's nothing that she shows to someone else. "And he's very much good, now stop asking. He's just getting drinks," she says and nods towards the bar.

"I like that guy," you exclaim excitedly. There's no doubt about your drunken state in this moment, because in no shape or form have you been as wounded up about any of Natasha's past partners.

"Hey, honey," Wanda catches your attention with a gentle hand on your arm, reaching across the sofa. "Where's your brother hiding? I can't imagine he would be very happy with you being drunk, no?" she asks.

"He can't know!" you exclaim with a whispered shout. "He's gonna kill me, please, Wanda."

Your eyes are blown wide open in fear. It's not that Steve would be mad—the disappointment is what you desperately want to evade. He gets that frown in between his eyebrows, puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head while looking down to the ground. Being on the receiving side of that is humiliating, on the verge of heartbreaking. You can't handle that tonight.

"I don't know, sweetheart..."

"Please, Wanda." There's tears gathering in your eyes, more so for dramatic effect than actual upset. You've slid down onto your knees in front of her, begging with your hands on her thighs.

"Oh god," Natasha mutters under her breath, setting down her drink on the table while indifferently glancing over to the bar where her boyfriend of the month resides.

She can't really handle this theatric version of you. There's a reason you're usually one of her favorites, despite your young age—your ability to be fucking quiet. Whoever gave you all that alcohol is on her damn hit list.

While she tunes out the conversation behind her, some kind of settlement is agreed upon where you, of course, get your way. No more alcohol, and Wanda won't tell your brother or Bucky what you have been up to.

When she stands up to leave, you're on your feet again. Now your attention has wandered over to Peter's costume, talking of how 'incredibly accurate to detail' it is despite being thrown together last minute by the college student. The only thing telling what he's dressed as is the hat paired with the old leather jacket.

A wet kiss is pressed to Natasha's cheek as soon as she joins Jason by the bar. His hand instantly finds her waist, pressing her into him tightly. His touch almost repulses her. He's too straightforward with his affection, so obvious in his quest to show her off.

"You look so goddamn sexy," he whispers into her ear. "Been thinking about what we talked about the other day."

Nat hums absentmindedly in answer, raising a finger swiftly to wave over the bartender.

"You know, having another p—"

"Yeah, I know what you're talking about," she interrupts him.

He brought it up about a week ago, and she only entertained the idea because she was bored. Jason is only a temporary occupation for her constant need to destress—there's no way in hell she's gonna adhere to his fantasy of having two girls sucking him off at the same time.

"She's not your real niece, no?" Jason asks suddenly, setting his gaze on your soft curves in that angelic dress framing your figure on the other side of the room.

Natasha's attention snaps from her drink to where his eyes are set. "You know she's not," she mutters as she takes a sip on her martini, suspiciously eyeing her boyfriend.

"I'm up for it," he says, nodding your way.

"Excuse me?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, gracefully setting down her glass on the counter.

"She's our girl, I have a feeling she is. You can ask her, can't you?" Jason smirks as he shamelessly keeps his stare on you. "Pretty little thing like that would be up for anything, wouldn't she?"

It takes exactly two seconds for Natasha to have a sharp fork pressed against Jason's side, just above one of his major arteries and restricting his breathing. A choked gurgle escapes his lips as Natasha's mouth lingers next to his ear.

"I know 72 different ways to break every bone in your body, and I can make 65 of them seem like an accident." Her smooth voice fills his ear. "Keep her name out of your mouth."

She keeps the fork pressed into his skin for a few seconds, just for extra measure, before she lets it go and Jason coughs violently as his hand flies up to his throat. Natasha takes another sip of her drink, glancing over the unsuspecting crowd with a roll of her eyes.

"I suggest you leave. Go clean up in the bathroom, you have a stain on your shirt," Natasha says before taking her drink and walking away.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

You squeeze yourself through the thick bathroom line, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear while trying to avoid bumping into as many people as possible. You gave up on preserving your wings two drinks ago, because quite frankly you have forgotten them by now.

You might also have ignored your fellow elders' warnings of laying off the alcohol, choosing to indulge in whatever drink you could get your hands on for one evening only. It's a risky move, but it's something you can afford. You rarely stir up any trouble, if any at all. What fun is it if you remain predictable all the time?

The music blares through the floor, thumping along with the people jumping up and down against it. You're out of it in the most wonderful way, rid of your constant presence in your own mind, if even for just a short while. The consequences do not exist and neither does your conscience.

When a guy in his late twenties, or thirties, maybe even your age, grasps a hold of your hand and asks if you want to dance, you answer yes without any hesitation. Sweaty bodies spread their heat around, pushing up against you and the mysterious guy as you move against each other.

You barely know what you're doing. You're only following along, letting him control your movements close to his body. If you were more sober you would have seen how it could be more likened to grinding than dancing, but the weight of his hands on your hips feels grounding instead of unnerving.

"You look so fucking pretty," he says into your ear, muffled by the alcohol buzzing in your head and the music blaring over the speakers.

You throw your arms around his neck, looking up at him with what you think is a smile. You're trying, at least. "Thank—" Hiccup. "Thank you. You're pretty too," you say, even though you can barely make out his features in the darkness.

But you think he looks pretty. A hypothesis based on the way his hands feel on your skin. Hot may be a better word for it, but in your state of mind adjectives do not differ especially much from each other. That's why you let him drag you away from the crowd, pushing through drunk people until you find a relatively secluded corner of the floor.

The wall is cold against your heated skin, your back against it while the man's arms cage you in. The feeling of his lips trailing across your neck barely registers. It just feels nice, you think. Your eyes are fluttered close, back arching while you mumble indetectable words you can't even decipher yourself. You're so fucking drunk you won't even remember this moment in the morning.

That's the problem with you drinking tonight—your alcohol consumption has been so limited that you have no conception of whatever is much or not. You have no idea if it takes three or six drinks to get you affected. You have no idea what you are like on tequila or vodka, on Prosecco or red wine. So now, eight drinks later of so many different types you can't even remember which was which, you're out of it enough to barely remember your own name.

His wet lips against yours are a suffocating presence you would much rather be without. It's sloppy and rushed, not at all what you imagined kissing would be. You wince to yourself, pushing him away just an inch to run the back of your hand against your mouth.

And then he's suddenly gone. You could have sworn he stood right in front of you. It takes a good ten seconds before you find him on the floor, clutching his nose with an angry frown in between his eyebrows.

"What the fuck, man?!" he shouts, looking up at the guy who has a funny hat on his head and a heaving chest.

"Stay away from her," the guy seethes, suddenly taking a gentle hold of your arm.

You don't have it in you to protest. Maybe it's dangerous to follow whoever when they tell you to, but your moral compass is non-existent in this state.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" the guy asks you. You blink, staring at his face while trying to piece together his features. No words come out of your mouth. "Damnit," he sighs, shaking his head.

A woman comes up to him with rushed steps, agitated look on her face. "Is she alright, Peter?" She runs her eyes over your disheveled figure.

"She's completely out of it. Must have snuck in quite a lot of more drinks," he answers. "Your dickhead of a boyfriend is taken care of, by the way. Probably won't stir up anymore trouble now."

"I should have checked so he actually left. It was reckless to think he would leave her alone," she says with a stern face, cold gaze watching the exit.

"Wasn't your fault, Nat," Peter assures her. You sway in your stance, stumbling into his hold while he steadies his grip around you.

"She needs to lay down before she passes out. Get her a glass of water for me, will you?" Natasha commands.

Peter nods, giving you a concerned glance before reluctantly heading towards the bar. Your head comes to lean on Natasha's shoulder with a whine, letting her lead you wherever she's going. You're starting to feel dizzy and slightly nauseous, and you do not like it. If you had the energy to speak you would launch a heavy string of complaints.

"Come on now, darling. A few more steps," she says, taking on more of your weight.

Your face is buried into her shoulder. The only thing detectable from your blubbering is the whines, wordlessly pleading to take you away from wherever you are and rid you of the nausea.

Heavy glances are exchanged between Peter and Natasha as he pushes through the crowd, fingers clinging tightly onto the large glass in his hand.

"Here," he breathes out, reaching the glass towards her.

She takes it from his hands, tilting your chin up with her manicured fingers. "There you go, Y/n," she mumbles as you gulp down small sips of the liquid.

The music blares loudly throughout the large room, sweaty bodies packed tightly together. What you found exhilarating and exciting twenty minutes ago is now suffocating. It's the only thing you know as you barely stand on two feet amongst the crowd. If it weren't for Nat, you would be in a heap on the floor.

"Let's go." Natasha nods towards the exit, glancing over her shoulder as Peter trails shortly after.

You're barely awake, burrowing your face into the crook of her neck. Peter can smell the stale alcohol on your breath from where he walks just beside the two of you—fruity drinks and vodka and tequila and wine. It unnerves him to think that you might have ingested enough of the poison to make it dangerous.

The bitter night air is refreshing for anyone who's senses are at least partly alert. It's a blessing really, that tonight you only have the short walk from the party to your homes located just on the other side of the compound grounds.

The dewy grass is partially lit up by strobe lights placed along the lines of the premises, soaking Natasha's heels and Peter's loafers. Your bare arms prickle with the low temperature.

It feels like an awfully long journey for Peter as he walks along Natasha, halfway waking up enough from the haze to take on some of your weight as well. There's a thought or two of swinging you back home in just a few seconds, but there's not much for his web to hold onto out here. The anxiety creates shudders in his limbs and forces him to glance over to your figure every other second.

"She'll be fine, Peter," Natasha says without so much as sparing him a glance. "She's just drunk. It'll be over tomorrow."

But his anxiety doesn't ease, rightfully so, when your palm suddenly pushes against her chest with all the force you can muster in your state. You whine, sprawling your legs until they have no option but to release you.

"Wha—"

On your knees, bent over the small bushes meticulously trimmed by the nice gardeners, you throw your guts out with shudders wracking the whole of your body. Awful.

Natasha could have said 'I told you so', but people make dumb decisions while drunk and she already feels bad for you over what Jason did. "Oh, honey," she whispers to herself instead, taking a step forward to reach you.

But Peter's faster. Of course he is. The young man is kneeling down beside you, hand gently wrapping around your hair to pull it aside while the other rubs against your back.

Any other time, when alcohol isn't poisoning your blood, and you would have felt ashamed. You probably will be tomorrow. You would have reacted to Peter being the one to take care of you, especially after showing such irritation about your state earlier.

The grass is cold and wet against your knees, but it is a welcome relief from the heat plaguing your skin. You are almost certain there are tears making their way out of your eyes and you would positively murder someone for another glass of water.

Instead of gulping down another glass, like you want to, you close your eyes while breathing out deeply. The nausea slowly fades away with each second, the heat being replaced by dewy goosebumps on your skin, all the while clarity pushes itself past the alcohol-induced blur.

A raspy cough. A thick gulp, swallowing too much air at the same time but you force yourself to hold it in. "Did I just kiss someone?" you speak for the first time in an hour.

And Natasha nearly laughs, until she remembers the state you were in. You didn't kiss someone.

"No, Y/n," she says softly, glancing up at Peter with a hardened gaze that tells him to keep his mouth shut. "No, you didn't."

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

It's dark, empty of anyone who usually resides in the living room. The lights flickered on one by one, lighting up the space too much for your liking when you stepped inside. A whine was all it took for Peter to turn them off again.

You've been discarded on the couch, legs stretched out over Nat’s thighs with a cold, wet towel laying on your face. Peter sits fiddling with his fingers just beside your head. It's quiet—thankfully—even though you feel much better than before.

"What time is it?" you ask after what must have been ten minutes of complete silence.

"It's, uh, ten past one," Peter stutters out, like he's surprised by the sound of your voice. In reality he just reacts this way each time you speak, but the circumstances have chipped on his resolve. He can't hide his shivers behind a cool facade anymore.

"Happy Halloween," you croak out, earning a quiet chuckle from him. He checks his phone to see the date on top of the screen. 31st October, indeed.

Honestly, Peter has been some kind of obsessed with you since he was sixteen and visited the compound for the first time. You and Steve were walking on the trail slinging around the grounds, deep into solemn conversation.

Peter should have been listening to the endless list of security policy Happy was lining up for him, but he just couldn't tear his eyes off of you. Not because you were beautiful—you are, but he couldn't really see your face in detail from that far away—but because there was someone else his age in the same situation as him. Then he found out you were just Steve's adopted little sister and was a bit disappointed over your lack of involvement with the Avengers.

For weeks he tried to understand why you were in this century too and if Captain America had kept you secret for a reason. Peter was too nervous to actually talk to you until Tony shut him out of some team meeting and you were the only other one in the living room. He saw you everyday after that.

But now he's living hours away at university and he hates that it feels like you're drifting apart and everything is happening without him knowing. You drinking and being interested in men and men being interested in you. He tries to keep the contact up—texts you everyday and calls you and sends messages to Steve or Bucky if you don't answer. For the things you won't tell him, the things he can't see.

He was so excited for tonight. Chose the Indiana Jones costume because Harrison Ford is cool and sexy in those movies and surely you must think that too? And damn it, when he saw you sparkle and shimmer as you walked into the room with your wings fluttering he almost fell to the ground. It was fun as long as you were sober enough to actually talk to him.

Peter's spent the last hour and a half so goddamn mad at Natasha's boyfriend. And of course he is jealous, it should have been him you were dancing with like that, but that man took advantage of your vulnerable state. You could barely stand up, let alone actually protest or give your consent. Peter doesn't know if that was your first kiss or not, but regardless he's mighty glad he knocked the guy out.

You've gone quiet again, and he almost thinks you have fallen asleep, but you peek out from under the towel when the door you all came in through is thrown open. Heavy boots clank against the floor and a frown adorns Steve Rogers', or Fred from Scooby Doo for the night, face when he and his best friend barges inside. It doesn't take long for them to catch sight of the couch occupied by a wide-eyed Peter, stoic Natasha and still kind of drunk Y/n.

"You're going to be the death of me, young lady," Steve speaks up, letting out a deep sigh once he's close enough to tower over your figure.

He got a run-through of the events by a slightly dramatic Asgardian god and an infinitely more concerned Wanda a few minutes ago. You had gotten black-out drunk and found yourself grinding against some punk in the crowd. That was forgivable, even though Steve would much rather you didn’t at this age. Then that fucking jerk shoved his tongue down your throat despite you barely being able to form words. Yeah, Jackson or Jacob or whatever his name was had a talk with Bucky before the two of them rushed over here.

With his hands on his hips and a shake of his head, Steve stands there for a second before kneeling down. Bucky has his arms crossed a few feet away like he still hasn't really decided wether he's pissed or just feels sorry for you.

"You okay, Y/n?" Steve asks you, a little softer. His palm has come to feel your forehead, even though you doubt fever is a common symptom of being hungover.

Peter is paralyzed beside him. He’s quite sure Steve knows how completely infatuated he is with you. Mostly because Peter accidentally, somehow, sent a voice message meant for Ned to Bucky. He must have shared that by now. What should I wear? Y/n is going to be there. Han Solo? Does she even like brunettes? Is she into blondes? Oh god, I’m helpless.

"No," you mutter in answer to your brother’s question. "This sucks. Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Bucky snorts. "What did you even drink? Vodka?"

"No. I don't know. In the beginning it was just some screw-top rosé Peter's roommate brought," you tell him, scrunching your nose with the memory of the taste of it. "It tasted cheap."

"Oh, because you know things like that now, do you?" Bucky says, raising his eyebrows at you. "Can tell expensive wine from cheap-ass rosé?"

"Buck," Steve says before you even have the chance to answer. Chastises, maybe. "You're not 21 yet. Who gave all that alcohol to you?"

You turn your head away, pressing it into the pillow. Steve turns you back to him with a hand to your shoulder, giving you a pointed look that holds some level of amusement. He acts like God's righteous man, but he was a troublemaker in his youth. Tony would have a field day if he knew all the times Steve came home drunk at sixteen after drinking some musty home-made brandy.

"Peter?" Steve looks up at him when you choose not to answer, using alternative, dirty methods to get answers. Cheater. Your mouth falls open, looking over at both your brother and Peter with an offended glare.

The young man stutters, eyes glancing frantically between the two of you while trying to figure out who scares him the most. "I—uh, don't know. My roommate. Apparently. Natasha's boyf—ex?"

The playful tone dims into stern faces and clenched jaws as the villain of the evening is mentioned out loud. You're caught up deciphering the sudden switch in attitude for longer than you should have before solving the riddle. Natasha told you nothing happened, but unfortunately you have vague pictures of a man, her man, shoving his tongue into your mouth. Oh god.

You sink even further into the couch, if that's possible, shielding yourself from the undoubtably judgemental gazes shared in the room. Natasha's boyfriend cheated with you and you didn't even say anything.

"Don't hide from us, sweetheart," Steve says, brushing hair away from your face. "Hey, it's not your fault. That punk took advantage of you. You weren't in your right mind."

Your dickhead of a brother knows you too well. Can tell with just a glance when you're overthinking and analyzing and blaming yourself for problems that have nothing to do with you from the beginning.

"Calm down, birdie,” Nat says softly, earning your attention even though you want to crawl out of your skin. “That's not a conscious decision, when you're drunk like that. It wasn't your fault in the least. Fourty minutes ago you couldn't even stand straight.”

"I'm really sorry, Nat," you say, eyes flickering down to your legs draped over her lap.

"Stop it. That fucking dickhead thought it would be a good idea to tell me he wanted to have a threesome with you. I told him to stay away from you and leave, but he obviously didn't. Probably just to spite me."

"Threesome?" Steve chokes on his breath and the word comes out as more of a cough. He tightens his hold on your hand until you let out a wince, drawing a whispered ‘sorry’ from his lips.

“Me?” you breathe out, sitting up a little higher.

Peter pushes you down onto the pillow again not even a second later. He doesn’t want you to strain yourself. He’s also fucking pissed now because that man not only assaulted you, he also asked Natasha to have a threesome with you. A 19-year old.

“I’m sorry that he took advantage of you, Y/n. Not going to bring anymore of these assholes I keep dating.” Natasha sighs tiredly, letting her head fall back against the couch.

“That’s not your fault either, you know,” Bucky mutters, earning a pointed look from her that says more than her words can. A ‘thank you’ and ‘I know, dickhead’ simultaneously.

A comfortable silence spanning a dozen of seconds is shared between the five of you. It’s late and everyone is tired and what needed to be said has already been said. You’re fine after all and Natasha will be okay, if she isn’t already.

Peter shifts uncomfortably beside you, brushing against your hair and alerting you even more of his presence. He’s been so sweet to you tonight. He always has been. It guilts you now that you have taken his kindness for granted with time, but Peter cared for you the entire evening despite his teasing words.

You don’t know if it means something. Peter is good to everyone. And he has—MJ and him seem so close. They most likely spend all their time together now when they go the same college. Both geniuses. You don’t really have much to contribute except being the younger sister of America’s favorite hero and embarrassing yourself in a fairy costume on Halloween.

So you push the thought aside. Bury it deep and take in the rest of your surroundings. A quiet snort rests on your lips as you assess the brooding man who has finally seated himself down on an uncomfortable chair from the kitchen.

"Your costume is horrible, Bucky. You're not even dressed up,” you speak up, breaking the silence with a playful smile.

"Yes. I am," he mutters. "I have a mask."

"That does not count. You're wearing your normal clothes." You giggle while he rolls his eyes, earning a chuckle from you brother too. He’s glad to see you cheering up.

“What is considered a real costume then, sweets?” Bucky asks you, raising his eyebrows while pinpointing you with his ingenuine glare.

“I don’t know.” You look around, glancing over your brother’s attempt at a classic Fred, Natasha’s Dorothy, before landing on Indiana Jones. “Peter’s is good,” you mumble, heat spreading to your cheeks from nowhere. Why are you reacting this way?

“Yeah, sure lucky ‘bout that since he planned it all for you,” he mumbles under his breath. “Punk is head over heels.”

The breath escapes the two of you—you and Peter. Because Peter knows Bucky is right and you can’t believe what you just heard.

“What?” both you and Steve say simultaneously. Your brother has turned his entire body towards Peter.

You raise yourself up to a seat, glancing between Bucky and Peter. The latter’s eyes are wide open, lips parted. Guilty.

“Peter?” you ask him, so quietly he almost has to rely on the shape of your lips to hear what you said.

A clearing of his throat. Scratch on the back of his neck.

“Yeah, about that…”

YAAAAASSSSSSSS 💖💖💖💖

anyway, reblog if…

a) you’re in the mcu spiderman fandom

b) you ship spideychelle

c) you’re an irondad fan

i really need more mutuals. and, as usual, stark*r shippers DO NOT INTERACT. I’ll block you if you do

AMAZING!!!!! a part 2 pleaseeeeeee where peter and the reader have graduated and separated and Peter soon realises how much he loved her and they meet after a long time but the reader has moved on with someone else??????

love is not enough

peter parker x reader

prompt - “ then what do i deserve? “ “ someone who's good to you. devoted. someone who's not me."

warnings - angst, it's just hurt really no comfort besties <3

mlist+taglist | reqs open at 2nd jan | no taglist for peter but send me an ask if you'd wanna be tagged for it <3

a/n saw nwh have some feels it was good i love andrew and his spidey the most so look out for a very cool fic <33 (also this is kinda short but yeah)

unrequited love doesn't die. it only get hidden away deep beneath your heart, wounded and then sometimes it turns bitter and mean and full of vengeance; or sometimes it turns so frail and afraid and feels as if it could never love again.

only a very terrible case of unrequited love can make you feel both of these things and unfortunately, you felt it both only 'cause of peter parker.

peter was sunlight. warm, loving everything you'd want, need- for happiness. he could have been your sun, one you could touch, feel and kiss- but he wasn't.

you weren't like the moon, shining in its all glory. you were like the glint of it's light on broken glass. mj was the moon and peter was the sun, while you were merely a glint of light, barely significant between them.

you hated just how desperate you were for peter's touch, his love. you hated how your mind considered him your home- all the thoughts at last wandered to him. you hated how you fell in love with someone who was never yours to begin with. first liz and now mj but never ever yours.

you were crying. you crying so hard that you could barely breath and every single breath you took felt like breathing through broken glass. your lonely heart was cursed with the infinite unrequited.

"i loved you then and i love you now peter. i was and will be always here why don't you get?" you spoke your voice at the edge of breaking, tears slowly brimming in your eyes. "first liz and now mj why is it never me?"

"i just- i just see you as a bestfriend why don't you get it? you are one of the only thing constant in my life and i can't lose that." peter tried to reason, gripping his hair in frustration.

"how will dating me mean that i won't be a constant anymore, peter i- what ever are you saying? just tell me the real reason peter. what is it? why am i never your choice?"

"i just- i don't like you okay? i mean- yeah i like you as a friend but- and you deserve someone better than be anyway." peter spoke fumbling over his words.

"okay then, what do i deserve?" you spoke harshly. your eyes not leaving his brown ones which looked slightly watery.

"someone who's good to you. devoted. someone who's not me" peter bit his cheek, his watery eyes threatening to spill at any moment.

"but i want you peter. i am the one who's there for you at midnights. i am the one who gives you a place to sleep when you can't go home. i am the one who is always there. i am the person you always come too. what is it about me that you can't even think of loving? what is it that you see in mj over me?" you were sobbing now, the angry tears hot against your face.

"the love i have for you will never be enough y/n, it never will." peter breathed. "and i am sorry for that."

"i gave you my midnights, all of my moonlight and this how you treat me? i ask you one question peter- what is it that you see in mj over me, you answer that and i will leave." you tone was cold, filled with venom. you felt and insane amount of hatred for peter right now. the love you held for him disguised itself in something so vengeful that you couldn't believe it.

"i just don't-"

"do you remember our long 6 hour phone calls where we talked until our throats were sore and eyelids heavy? or when you made french toast in the morning even though you didn't like it but you knew it was my favorite? when you'd compare me to the sun and you the moon? do you remember reading me stories at night simply because I asked you too? do you remember all the times I fell in love with you?" you were screaming now, your finger pointing his chest, tears falling down your cheeks. "i know you remember it all too well peter."

"i do."

"then what went wrong?"

"i- i don't know it's just i kissed mj and i like her and then it just happened y/n i am sorry-"

"i kept you like an oath peter. was i merely a secret to you? was i not someone you ever truly loved?" there was a pause, "was it even love to you?"

"y/n i am sorry." peter replied his hand slowly holding yours, placing a kiss on your knuckles. "i am sorry" he repeated as he let go of your hand. "i will always remember all too well." he said and turned around, walking away, leaving you alone.

you wanted to scream and shout and beg him to stay- but instead you did none of that and just watched him go. you loved him then and love him now, you never could be mj- it was all a male fantasy.

Loved this!! 💖💖

so i checked out your guidelines and you said that you like plot to be included too so i hope this isn't too much for you.

R is 11 here if that's okay with you.

can i ask you to write an avengers x teen!reader where tony adopts a kid from foster care and the team is trying to get her to open up but she locks herself in her room because she's used to moving from home to home or being abused in the system so she's scared to do anything normal like interact and stuff like that. when they showed her room on the first day she was hesitant to go in bc she's used to poor treatment. Wanda and Nat are the first ones to notice her behavior and they point it out to the rest of the team. they come up with a plan to help her but it only pushes her further away from them bc she isn't used to that much attention. they decide that when she's ready she'll come to them so one game night she tip toes downstairs and peaks in the living room to see them having a good time. wanda or vision senses her energy and she tries to silently sneak back but they invite her in and she reluctantly joins them. she isn't too familiar with the games they're playing so they teach her then afterwards they watch a bunch of movies and they're glad they can give her the family she never had.

Family

Summary: Sometimes it takes a while to find your true family.

Pairing: Avengers x teen!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 1116

a/n: This is not too much at all! Thank you for the request :) (I’m sorry this is terrible)

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

Walking into an entirely new surroundings is always anxiety inducing, but it’s especially scary when the people leading you to your so called new room are the world’s mightiest heroes.

There’s two men and two women in front of her, she knows who they are, of course, but she isn’t going to bring it up. Surely they have already sensed it.

One of the men, Iron Man, or Tony, as he told her to call him, is talking constantly. His hands are moving up and down, side to side as he gestures to different rooms and what’s in them. He is walking right in front of her, creating a sort of barrier between them. Wanda on the other hand, is walking next to her, occasionally glancing down at her.

Y/N keeps her eyes on Tony’s back. She doesn’t want to look anyone in the eyes or seem too fearful by mapping out the place.

“And this here,” Tony stops walking and opens a door, “is your room.” He turns to look at her with a big grin.

Not moving, Y/N stares inside the room. The four of them keep looking at her, waiting to see her reaction, but they get none.

Tony clears her throat. “You can go in, kid.” With small steps, she goes into the room. “We know it’s a bit empty, but you just tell me whatever you need and want, and I’ll buy it.”

She doesn’t need anything. It’s not like this room will be hers for long. It’s usual for her to stay in a home for a month at best. So, it’s better to not get attached to anything or anyone.

Wanda has a frown on her face as she watches Y/N set down her tiny bag. She’s worried of the girl, but puts those feelings on the side, this is a big change after all.

“Should we leave you to settle in?” Steve speaks up when the silence starts to drag on for a long time. “Someone could come get you when dinner is ready.”

With a nod from Y/N, the four of them close the door and leave her alone with her thoughts. With no one around, she lets out a deep breath and starts inspecting the room. It’s bigger than any other room she has had, and cleaner.

It’ll definitely be harder to leave this room behind when the time eventually comes.

After two very uneventful days, Natasha and Wanda have started talking with the other Avengers how Y/N doesn’t seem to get better, even though they’re giving her plenty of space. So, they decide to try another approach.

Wanda knocks on the door with a huge smile. Some of the other team members are behind her with boxes.

Opening the door only slightly, Y/N peeks through the gap. “Hi!” Wanda waves. “We got you something, if you could open the door a bit more?” Her voice is gentle and on the quieter side.

Y/N opens the door properly. Her eyes widen when she noticed the others and all the boxes waiting there. “We bought you some furniture and decorations.” Natasha brings one of the boxes in the room. “Obviously, we don’t know for sure what you like, but I think we got some good stuff.”

She stays frozen on her spot, out of the way, staring at the others walking in and out of the room. There are so many of them at the same time. Y/N doesn’t understand what they’re doing. Is this a test?

In fear of being punish for a wrong reaction, she decides to not react at all. Her hands are shaking behind her back, but she doesn’t let them see her fear. She just stares at them with a stoic expression.

“What do you think?” Wanda asks once the things are set. “You can obviously change things around if they aren’t to your liking, but this is a good start, yeah?” When Y/N just nods mutely, Wanda’s smile falls.

A silence falls over the room. Very uncomfortable and heavy silence. “Well,” Natasha clears her throat. “We’ll let you be.”

When the door closes, Wanda and Natasha glance at each other. “That didn’t work out the way I wanted.” Wanda mumbles. “I really thought that’d help her get out of her shell.”

“Maybe we just need to let her be.”

She huffs. “I know, it’s just so difficult when I can basically hear her worries.”

“It’ll happen, lets just do it on her terms.”

A week goes by where it almost seems like Y/N pulled into her shell even more. She wouldn’t speak to anyone, or even want to physically be in the same room as someone else. One of the team members always had to go knock on her door and leave a plate of food in front of it, so she would eat.

Most of the team got back into their regular routines, though their worry stayed the same, but they couldn’t stand outside her door forever. Wanda and Natasha would talk to her through the door at times, even if the conversation was fully one sided.

Today, the Avengers decided to spend the evening playing different board games. It’s not unusual for them, as they like to do bonding activities together.

Tony knocked on Y/N’s door to ask her to join them, but only got a small head shake as an answer. However, after an hour and a half, Y/N opens the door carefully.

She sneaks towards the living room, being cautious not to make any noise. Stopping right before the room, she peaks in. All the team members are laughing and shouting together.

Y/N takes deep breaths to calm herself down, these kind of situations still make her incredibly nervous. Suddenly, Wanda turns to look at her.

Her eyes turn wide and she is just about to turn away to go back to her room’s safety, but Wanda speaks up before she can. “Hey, sweetheart. Do you want to join us?” Now some of the others turn to look at her.

With hesitance, Y/N starts walking towards them. They’re surprised by this, but try their best not to show it. “We’re playing Monopoly. You ever played it?” Tony asks as Y/N sits between Wanda and Natasha.

“No.”

“That’s alright, we’ll teach you.” Wanda smiles, putting one more pawn to the board.

Y/N stays quiet for quite some time during the game night, but when the evening goes on, she starts initiating conversation more and even leans on Wanda’s side at times.

Maybe this family is different after all, it certainly isn’t ordinary.

YAAAAS 😍😍😍 PLEASE I LOVE ALL THE TOM HOLLAND AND PETER PARKER ONES!!!!!!

going thru my google drive and found some of my wips so im gnna share them. if yall like any in particular, lmk cus maybe itll motivate me to write them

1. Peter Parker - A FWB situation takes a turn for the worse when the lines begin to blur for Peter, teetering between friends and more just as you begin to dote your attention elsewhere. (smut, angst, fluff)

2. Tom Holland - Working as a medic on Tom's set proves to be more than just fun and games when a particular someone's feelings develops into more. Jealousy erupts when someone else beats Tom to asking out said medic, a confession only spurring on after a stunting accident that causes great havoc. (fluff, angst)

3. Mob!Tom - A bookstore owner owes Tom a great deal of cash and he comes to take what's rightfully his, only to run into a tired minimum wage worker who's uninterested in his threats, leading to a lifelong love story that neither would expect. (fluff, slight angst, smut tbd)

4. Mob!Bucky - Your casual hookup buddy finds himself starting to crave something more and he couldn’t have come around at a more perfect time. (fluff, angst, smut tbd)

i have hella obx wips but i havent seen s2 so idk if theyll even make sense now 😭 but heres some. if someone could lmk if theyd still work? ill write them possibly

1. Rafe Cameron - Rafe turns 21 without you by his side and it hurts more than you expected. Based on 21 by Gracie Abrams (angst)

2. JJ Maybank - Not disclosing your sexual history with John B. to JJ proves itself to be a big mistake when things get out of hand after JJ finds out. (angst, fluff)

3. JJ Maybank - After reluctantly hiring you as his tutor, yours and JJ's feelings begin to develop into more. Too bashful to admit it, JJ adamantly denies it in front of the Pogues, only for it to be overheard by you, leading to a series if hurt and anger that could have been easily resolved if JJ simply had the courage to admit his feelings. (angst, fluff)

that's all. peace n love <3