Marvel Mcu - Blog Posts

SPOILERS FOR AGATHA ALL ALONG!!!

You know what would be so cool? If Tommy Shepherd, who unlike the comics, remembers his life as Tommy Maximoff, how heartbreaking would that be? You do everything to get your brother back and when he does come back he sees a version of you that you really are not anymore. With Tommy he recognizes his brother’s spirit but all those inside jokes and them being the only kids in Westview due to the hex. Tommy telling their memories but Billy doesn’t remember, so he feels kind of excluded.

DO YOU GET WHAT I MEAN???

(Also please continue to 🏴‍☠️ everything for the boycott)

(Part 6) It's 4am rn........ @idkwhatever580

(Part 5) Thank @idkwhatever580 for this post!!! Bc I wasn't gonna make any more for awhile but they got me in the mood!!

(Part 4) Thinking about it I should've made these earlier and posted them on Halloween

Me anytime someone mentions Wanda

Another Day 1

Warnings: dub-con/non-con, age gap, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, emotional abuse, physical abuse, possibly other triggering events. 

Characters: dark!Steve Rogers.

Summary: Be careful what you wish for, one day it could come true. And that might just be your savior in disguise, all it takes is a little bit of persuasion. 

Interact on your own accord. You have been warned. 

Any reblog, comment, feedback is well received and appreciated! Enjoy <3 

Another week, another day, another hour. Every single time the same.

It’s like a torturous cycle that’s never ending. Like the universe is playing a cruel joke on you and you’re waiting for someone, anyone to come out with cameras and tell you that you’re on a reality TV show and this was just an experiment. 

Or at least wishing that you were like the main character from The Truman Show and one day you would find a way out. But what a surprise. Life isn’t that simple. 

You let out a sigh as you throw your head back, leaning in the hard chair at your dull job. You look up at the grey painted ceiling, forgetting about the cheap lightbulb that was ironically placed above you in the exact same spot you are seated in as the awful light shines on your face. 

You immediately squint your eyes, reverting your gaze away from the light, regretting that you ever made the decision to look up, getting even more frustrated with the situation you found yourself in. 

You swear internally as you get up from the chair while closing the laptop, yet another cheap object provided by your employer. Your job working at a sales agency never was much of an interest honestly but as long as you can afford your rent and groceries you could never complain that much. 

As you went to take your coat, you look over at your coworker with a defeated smile on your face.

“Gonna go out for a bit, I need a break… Let me know if you need any help.”

He barely gives a nod in return, not even sparing a glance in your way, clearly his full attention being on whatever he was doing on his laptop.

You pay no mind to it though, already used to people not giving you much thought. You make your way toward the exit of the rather small and depressing building, grateful that you were placed on the ground floor instead of the third or fourth floor, obviously no elevator in sight. 

Only stairs. A lot of them. 

Your whole body shivers as you make contact with the cold weather, which probably was like three or four degrees outside. Your coat not doing much either as you look at the fog that was forming at every breath you took.

You wrap your arms around yourself in hope of making the cold more bearable as you look around, at nothing in particular, just observing people walking by, kids playing in the snow and couples holding hands. 

It brought a smile to your face as you enjoy the crowded street, losing yourself in the noise and the nostalgic feeling it gives you. Remembering the old days where you were walking with your mom, just talking and laughing, without a care in the whole world. 

Yet the bittersweet moment doesn't last for long as you are rudely awakened from your daydream. You feel a body crashing into yours. You quickly look up, startled by the sudden interaction. A man with blonde hair and blue eyes, obviously taller than you. 

He looks down at you with an apologetic expression, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“So sorry sweetheart, in this crowd it’s too hard to see much of anything.” he gives a small chuckle. 

You stare at him dumbfounded. He tilts his head as he waits patiently for your response, unfortunately you realize only after a few seconds what has happened. You straighten yourself.

“S-sorry, sir, I didn't mean to be rude,” you shake your head in embarrassment.

“And no, no problem at all!” You quickly add, cursing at how your voice went up a pitch. 

He gives a small hum in return, still smiling, seeming as if he’s pleased with your reply.

“In this case, if you don’t mind me asking,” he looks around. 

“I seem to be a bit lost, do you perhaps know where I can find Elite Sales?” 

Your eyes go wide as you hear him call out the name of the company you work for, but quickly regain yourself. Of course he wouldn’t know where to find it. The goddamn company didn’t even think to at least put up a poster with the half assed, original name as they call it, on the damn building. 

“Good thing you found me then,” you gave the man a smile.

“I work for the company, I can help you with whatever you’re looking to buy.” you say trying to be as polite as possible as you instinctively go into the customer service voice. 

“Here is our, er, building.” 

He took his time studying the building in question as you patiently wait for him to make a move. You watch him with curious eyes, they can't help but wander as you study every single detail. The way he's dressed… long heavy coat, turtleneck sweater which fits his upper body perfectly, showing how well built he is, classic straight slim suit pants and classic leather shoes which on their own probably cost more than what you make in a single month.

‘’I don’t mind the staring sweetheart… but I’m kind of in a hurry.’’

You snap back to reality as you realize how he probably saw you staring at him like an idiot. You feel so stupid and embarrassed, you don't even say anything back. You make your way inside the building, dreading the work that awaits you. Occasionally stealing glances at the man, making sure he is still following behind you. You see your only coworker present in the room, being as busy as ever, still not acknowledging you nor the customer.  

‘’Right then, if you could kindly explain to me what exactly you’re looking for?’’ you say as you take a pen and notebook from your desk.

He lets out a sigh as he folds his arms ‘’Not entirely sure…’’

Your eye twitches just the tiniest bit. Not the first time you have to deal with customers like him.

‘’Sir, I can’t help you if you don’t give me at least an idea.’’ you say as your patience is starting to wear thin.

‘’Alright, alright,’’ he chuckles.

You give him a frown as you don’t find any of this funny, but he just brushes you off as he continues.

‘’Tell me sweetheart, how are your safety locks?’’ he looks at you with a serious expression.

You were taken aback by his sudden mood change. You blink a couple of times until finally, you reply.

‘’…Could you please elaborate?’’

He shifts to lean against the wall, in a more relaxed position.

‘’Let’s say, for example, I put all of my most prized possessions in a room. I need something to keep it safe, locked.’’ he says, not once breaking eye contact.

‘’Not just any lock.’’

You think for a moment, taking in his words. You hesitantly nod your head yes while you write the information down in your notebook.

‘’Alright sir, I’ll see what I can find.’’ you say as you finish writing the last word ‘’Can I help you with anything else?’’

The man gives you a smile as he moves away from the wall, now standing fully straight  ‘’That would be all, dear.’’

‘’Perfect. If you could please give me a name and a phone number so I will know how to contact you?’’ you quickly add, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

‘’Steve Rogers,’’ he starts saying then ends the sentence with his phone number information.

You thank him as you finish writing everything down, now waiting for him to just leave and be on his way.

As he gets to the exit door, he stops for a second to look at you. He calls out your name with a smile on his face, wishing you a good day before leaving. You stand in your spot without moving as you stare dumbly at the door that closed behind him.

You never told him your name.

Hello to the few people following me or ones that saw my jedtavius art and that others! (Wow, crap opening lol)

I might make another tumblr account so I can post more art! My current account(this one) is on my phone, and I'm not the brightest, so Idk how to get art from my iPad to my phone.

I'll reblog this with the name of the other account. That doesn't mean this account is dead, it'll still be in use!

The kind of things I'll post will be in the tags

I never noticed that!

Something about the way the plates of his metal arm shift when he moves is so hot. Sue me.

Did Chris Evans delete his Twitter/X?

I've seen screenshots of his twitter and when i went to look for it, I couldn't find it. Anyone know what happened to it or am I being dumb?

This is so cute!!

@gmotheemo I did it

I made Thruce art!

It only took me 5 million years.

No, I’ve just been uninspired 😔 I’m still into Avengers, but idk what to draw

You can’t gimme requests u gotta pay up, check out my commission prices on my pinned post. I take PayPal B)

Anyways, it’s genderbent. Idk how to draw arm and leg hair, despite having an abundance, not do I know how to draw muscular ladies (it’s sad cuz they beautiful :() but here ya go

It’s my OTP :)

Please reblog! Likes don’t spread my work.

The amount of science used in this post!!!

Did they ever reveal how Captain America was thawed? Because I’m picturing a bunch of Shield agents with hair dryers and I don’t think that’s quite right.

ARMS ARMS ARMS ARMS

ARMS ARMS ARMS

Why don't people call Tony x Pepper pepperony?

OKAY THIS IS REALLY OFF TOPIC BUT…

because the TVA goes back to reset everything when anyone messes up the the Sacred Timeline

this means there was potentially a timeline where the Ant Man Asshole Thanos theory could’ve happened but the TVA reset everything

Thank you @charming-mug for this screenshot from the video game "Marvel's Midnight Suns".

I'm losing my mind. This quote, from an official source, has made my week. Because thats exactly it! Thats the point! It's not that Tony looks as Peter and wants to adopt him because hes just so cute or anything. Tony looks at Peter and sees himself!

He sees himself in miniature. He sees a kid with all the potential that Tony wasted, all the potential that Tony mourned throwing away. Tony wants to make sure that Peter gets all the parts of Tony that Tony is proud of, and that Peter avoids the parts that still haunt Tony.

Tony gives Peter tech. He gives him access to the lab, new suits, and academic validation. He tries to make sure that Peter gets the chance to grow up as surrounded by tech as Tony did.

But! Tony is there! He actually helps, he makes sure Peter knows that the tech is a gift, and its there because Tony thinks Peter is worthy of it. And Tony is somewhat strict (ferry scene, yelling in infinity war, ect.) because I'm sure a part of him wishes that Howard had stopped Tony from partying and throwing his life away.

Irondad works so well, in my opinion, because its not that Tony thinks that he would be a good dad and so he finds some kid to take in. Its good because Tony finds a piece of himself in the way Peter behaves, and he starts feeling responsible for it. He is PUSHED into parenthood by his sense of responsibility and guilt over his past.

Tony looks at peter and sees who he could have been. He wants to make sure that Peter ends up better than him. Tony wants to right the wrongs done to him, to make sure Peter doesn’t experience the hurt that followed Tony into adulthood.

(And then Peter lost a mother-figure and a father-figure, and both were killed in a way that Peter doesn’t feel right to blame the murderer for their deaths. And Peter got put into the public eye, every movement criticized. And the Peter was so famous that his "bad publicity" held him back from his dream school.

Tony wanted Peter never to experience the things that hurt Tony. But Toy didn't live long enough to watch as all his efforts were proven to be in vain.

Because history repeats. The son becomes the father. Theres only one way this story ends.)

Post-NWH peter getting a tattoo of 1. his name (in case somehow the spell starts affecting HIM too) 2. the handwritting of his loved ones.

He gets a heart that May drew on a note in his lunch, that he kept. He gets MJ's initials in her handwriting, taken off a letter she wrote him and slipped in his locker. He gets a drawing Tony once did on his robotics homework, of DUM-E (and he dosn't include the caption Stark wrote, "this is DUM"), and he gets Ned's writing, "guy in the chair", a "signature" he once left on a paper after Peter traced out the plan for one of his patrols.

Peter spent the last of his money on them. If he died before they remember him, he wants them with him.

(He finds, after that, that Peter is a lot more careful about his injuries. He hadn't had the motivation, until now, to stop himself from getting hurt. But he couldn't get an injury where the tattoos were. He couldn't mess up the last piece of them.)

Born Again Put a Bullet in My Childhood

*Born Again Spoilers*

The return of the Man Without Fear not only broke my heart, it signifies the end of my childhood. The bullet fired by Benjamin Pointdexter went straight through its victim and into the last bit of nostalgia I held for my younger years. 

I was twelve years old in April of 2015. The concept of a streaming service was still new to me, and I expected the first Marvel/Netflix show to be reminiscent of a low-budget fan series. I was going through a lot at the time. My parents were getting divorced, my grandfather was sick with cancer, and my family was on the verge of being homeless. On April 10th, my father and I stayed at my grandad’s house. Grandad was at the hospital because his lung cancer had taken a turn for the worst, and I curled up on the worn couch as spring air filtered in from the open window and my Dad sat down with a grunt in the recliner. My Dad turned on the show and I was enthralled. 

I had never seen a superhero show that felt so adult, so real, so slick, and complicated and heavy. I related to Matt Murdock, someone who always seemed to have some sort of obstacle ahead of him. I related to Matt’s boyhood counterpart who was concerned about his father making the rent payments on time. I related to being small, consumed with the big mysterious world that can change at any moment with various levels of stability. I liked that Matt Murdock kept going, no matter how bad things got. 

Two days later, I was sitting in my bedroom late at night, watching the infamous episode “Nelson V. Murdock” on my Wii console, legs folded under me, chewing my nails as Charlie Cox and Elden Hensen cried on screen. I was still thinking about that episode the next morning as we drove to Grandad’s house. Later that day, the police called informing us that our house had been robbed. My TV and Wii console were both stolen along with all our other possessions. The drawers in my bedroom were pulled free and clothes were strewn about. Looking at my room, I felt naked. There were Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle decals on my walls and I wondered if the thieves looked at them when they came into my room. I wonder if they felt bad about stealing from a child and I knew they probably didn’t. Two days after that, we were officially evicted. 

In 2018, I was an angry teenager. My mother was getting remarried and I didn’t like the guy. I didn’t like that we were moving or that I wouldn’t see my friends as much anymore, even though they didn’t feel like my friends at the time. Most of them treated me like shit because we were all young and unhappy about something. I was suicidal but I didn’t fully understand what I was feeling. I pretended to be happy all the time and that made it worse. The new season of Daredevil was the only good thing I had going on in my life. I coveted the episodes, watching one every other week, taking my time. When the series was canceled I was halfway through the season. I stopped watching it and I wouldn’t finish it until 2024. I didn’t want the story to be over. I didn’t want to say goodbye to Matt, Karen, and Foggy, my only real friends. 

Recently, I’ve been struggling with the concept of growing up. I’m twenty-two years old and I’m in a weird space where I’m not a kid but I also don’t feel like an adult. It feels like I stopped aging in 2020. I keep reminiscing, thinking to myself “Things used to be better,” even though I know that isn’t true. I’m in college, I’m in therapy, I’m on medication, and life is good. Yet, I can’t seem to move on from periods of my life that have passed. I find myself dreaming about my childhood home and places I lived in my teens. They’re always altered, mashed together like some fucked-up Winchester mystery house. 

For years I wanted Daredevil to return. The original series was the postmark of my adolescence. Matt, Foggy, and Karen did more for me during the worst parts of my life than most of my friends have. I wanted to see them again. It was so weird when I got my wish. Tuesday night, I assembled the best bar food I could find, spicy chicken wings, fries, mozzarella sticks, a big juicy burger, and three ice-cold bottles of Coors Light. I set my favorite Daredevil comics and Funko figurines around my television set and placed my fancy chair right in front of it. Seeing Matt, Foggy, and Karen together again was like a dream or a hallucination. And none of that compared to the shock of seeing Foggy gunned down in the street. Hand covering my mouth, food getting cold next to me, and my cousin crying on speakerphone, I watched one of my best friends bleed to death on screen. 

I’m a sensitive person and I tend to overthink. I like drawing connections, even if they don’t make complete sense sometimes. In the aftermath of the Born Again pilot episode, sitting on my chair and staring at the ceiling, I realized something: I can finally move on. In some odd, fucked up way, seeing my three favorite comfort characters together again, and seeing one of them die, has given me a sense of closure on my childhood. No TV show was meant to last forever. I’m glad the 2015 Daredevil series died a hero before it could become a villain, and I’m glad the new series is taking a different route.  Seeing a definitive end to the original series is permission for me to let go of my unhappy adolescent years and move on. I’m grateful for that, and I know that Born Again is going to make me cry more in the future. 

Tonight, I will drink to Nelson, Murdock, and Page and all they’ve done for a lonely kid.

Rick Stepp (irresponsibleink@gmail.com)

The Love Letter | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Male!Reader

A/N: Another Steve Rogers fanfic because he is a cutie. This one is way shorter than my first fic and not the best writing I've done admittedly. Anyways, enjoy!

P.S. Stream Short n' Sweet by Sabrina Carpenter 💋

The Love Letter

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Y/N, too afraid to verbally confess his feelings for Steve, gives him a love letter instead

Warnings: Sad

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Natasha stared bewildered at Y/N, aggressively punching the boxing dummy in the team's training room. With each continuous whack, growing strength with each successive hit, the dent in the dummy's torso grew larger. Natasha observed that he only acted this vehemently if something was bothering him. The last time this occurred was after a botched mission that resulted in numerous accidental deaths and tonnes of paperwork. As Y/N began winding down from his strenuous training, Natasha approached him, already having a slight idea for the cause of his trouble.

“It’s Steve isn’t it?” she abruptly asked. 

Y/N glanced towards her with a questioning look. “I’m sorry?”

“You like him, but you’re too scared to tell him.”

Y/N stared at her, trying to maintain a look that conveyed he was completely unsure as to what she was on about. However, he soon cracked under the pressure of her intense piercing gaze and gave her a resigned look. Sighing, he said, “Was I that obvious?”

"Y/N, we all see the way you ogle him." Y/N's jaw slightly clenched at his obliviousness to his obvious crushing. "The whole team knows, and I wouldn't be surprised if Steve himself did too."

Y/N let out a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair. He always hated Natasha’s cunning observational skills. But he was aware this time his long-term crush was exposed at his fault. “I just don’t know how to tell him. I mean, what if he doesn’t feel the same?”

Natasha lightly placed her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re not going to ruin anything by telling him. There’s nothing wrong with being honest. Plus, there could be the chance he likes you also.”

Y/N’s head shook slightly. “I’m not sure how to tell him without completely embarrassing myself in front of him.”

Natasha’s expression turned deep with thought. Then, the metaphorical light bulb lit up in her head. "Maybe you should write him a letter. That way nothing you’ll say will be misconstrued. It's the most objective way to say your feelings for him, Y/N."

Y/N glanced towards Natasha, unaware if she was serious or saying everything in jest. "Wouldn't it be easier if I sent him a text message?"

Natasha shook her head. "Letters are more romantic. Plus, Steve is old-fashioned. I'm sure he'd appreciate it more than some lacklustre text."

As Natasha left the training grounds, Y/N began thinking deeply about her suggestion. He never imagined telling Steve about his feelings, let alone confessing through a handwritten letter. The worse that could occur, he thought, was that Steve would reject him and the entire trajectory of any friendship they had would completely change beyond recognition. However, the idea of Steve being whisked away by anyone else was enough to fill him with dread. He couldn't have a repeat of his emotions during Steve's brief fling with Sharon Carter. Tear-dampened tissues filled his room the week he heard the news – he reached a new low during that time. After his shower in the gym's adjacent locker room, Y/N began devising what he would say and how exactly he would say it.

Walking back to his room, Y/N made a brief detour to one of Tony's several printers scattered around the compound to grab several sheets of paper. He was already anticipating the inevitable drafts that would end up in his garbage bin. As he sat on his desk, cracking his knuckles before putting pen to paper, he hoped whatever monstrosity he would conjure would convey his feelings in a way that Steve would fully reciprocate them.

------------------------------------

After three hours and several tossed crumpled balls of paper in his garbage, Y/N finally created what he thought was the best thing he had ever written. Skimming through it again, he started thinking otherwise and that it was actually really bad. The letter read:

Steve,

I've been thinking a lot lately, and I finally decided I needed to air it out. Natasha suggested writing you a letter, and honestly, I was hesitant at first. But the more I considered it, I realised it was the only suitable option for this situation. I know you're not the type for overly grand gestures, so I'll keep it simple.

Ever since we met, I've been admiring you. Not just for the reason that you're Captain America, but also for what I've seen in who you are as a person. Your kindness, bravery, strength, and dedication amongst many more of your qualities are things I've come to deeply respect. Over time, these feelings I felt for you have grown from something more than admiration – something I never expected.

I've tried to hide it, but I'm not sure I can anymore. I like you, Steve. I really like you a lot, as more than a friend. I know you've been through a lot, so I don't want any of this to complicate you any further. I just needed to tell you how I feel. I value the friendship we have, and I don't want this to negatively change that.

I understand if you don't feel the same way. If you'd prefer it, we could both pretend I never wrote you this. But if there is a chance you feel the same, maybe we could both see where this goes. No pressure, no expectations – just honesty.

Y/N

After rereading it for the fifth time, Y/N decided this was the best it would get. If Steve hated it, then so be it. Y/N put the letter in a sleek dark brown envelope from a stationary set he bought earlier from a high-end arts and crafts store. Since it was for Steve, he had splurged on whatever he could in hopes it would convey the seriousness of his feelings.

As Y/N walked towards Steve’s room, a feeling of severe anxiety washed over him, causing him to fidget with the letter between his fingers. The outcomes of the letter-sending were so polar that he wasn’t sure if his feelings were worth the chance. On one hand, Steve would feel the same and both would live happily ever after. On the other, Steve would downright reject him, their friendship would be destroyed, and the awkwardness would find a way to infiltrate its way into the team, getting in the way of their world-saving. 

Steve’s door came into view, and the urge to turn around and leave became stronger for Y/N. Before Y/N could back down, he heard footsteps descending the hallway’s corner. After quickly slipping the letter under the door frame, Y/N ran in the opposite direction. Whatever was to ensue after was up in the hands of whichever deity was out there.

------------------------------------

The team assembled for dinner shortly after Y/N’s letter made it to Steve’s room. As he sat in his designated spot beside Natasha, his hands started becoming clammy, and his head became nauseous with worrying thoughts. Steve has yet to arrive at the table. Coughing lightly, Y/N turned towards Natasha. 

“I did it, Nat.” Y/N quivered softly. 

“Did what, Y/N/N?” She said in between her chewing.

“I sent him the letter. Earlier this evening, I sent him the letter. God, I can’t believe I listened to you.”

Natasha turned her head, eyes wide in disbelief. Before she could respond, Steve walked into the dining room. The team greeted him, including Y/N whose voice wavered slightly upon seeing the man he so recently confessed his feelings for. Steve’s eyes wandered around the table until they stopped on Y/N. The two looked at each other, and Y/N’s stomach churned. He tried to read Steve’s expression, but it was indistinguishable. As his heart pounded, his hands trembled under the table. 

Natasha slightly nudged Y/N with her elbow. “Relax, Y/NN. Just see how he acts.”

Y/N nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. As Steve approached the table, he pulled the chair directly in front of Y/N, sitting down with a small smile. “Hey, everyone,” Steve greeted, his voice soft and supple, smiling brightly at the team. 

Y/N managed to contort a crooked smile in return. “Hi, Steve.” His voice wavered once again and his cheeks blushed. He looked down towards his plate in hopes no one noticed.

As the team continued with their conversation – Bruce and Tony bantering about lab tech, Thor sharing a story about Asgard, and Clint making sarcastic remarks near the table’s end – Y/N kept glancing towards. Steve looked relaxed, but every so often, his eyes would also meet Y/N’s, and Y/N’s stomach would be sent into a spiral of front flips. 

At one point, Steve met Y/N’s gaze and held it for longer than usual. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. He knew at that point that Steve must have read the letter. There was no other reason for the glances they shared with each other, and the slight glint of something in Steve’s eyes. He could already sense the inevitable conversation Steve was about to confront him with in the not-so-distant future.

Dinner continued, and eventually, the team started to disperse. As for Y/N, his heart sank as he remembered it was his turn to wash the dishes today. Today of all days. Even more troubling, Steve had volunteered behind to help with cleaning. Y/N already knew where this was going to lead. With one last glance at Natasha who offered him a reassuring smile, it was just Y/N and Steve left together.

------------------------------------

The kitchen was dead silent as the two men cleared the table, the clinking of dishes and the sound of running water from the sink being the only interruption. Y/N could feel Steve’s presence beside him – comforting and warm, but tonight it felt different. Heavy. He couldn’t conjure the courage to look at him, instead focusing on aggressively rubbing a stubborn stain on one of the plates.

Finally, after what like an eternity, Steve finally broke the silence. “Y/N,” he said, his voice carrying a certain softness that made Y/N’s heart beat faster. “About the letter…”

Y/N froze, squeezing the sponge in his hand hard. He knew this was bound to happen, but hearing Steve’s voice mention his letter still made him incredibly nervous. Slowly, he turned towards Steve, ready for whatever he was about to be hit with. “Yeah?” he managed to whisper, his voice barely managing to make it above a whisper.

Steve fully turned towards Y/N, setting down the dish he was currently drying and meeting his eyes. His expression was serious, and his blue eyes were holding a feeling Y/N couldn’t decipher – nervousness, maybe, or regret. “I read it,” he said quietly. “And I want you to know that I’m honoured that you trust me enough to share your feelings with me. I really am.”

Y/N’s heart clenched. He felt the impending doom through Steve’s tone. Y/N nodded slowly, attempting to keep his emotions in check. “But…?”

Steve took a deep breath, he turned away briefly before meeting Y/N’s eyes again. “But I don’t feel the same way,” he said, voice firm but soft. “I care about you a lot, Y/N, as a friend. I value our friendship and I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t see you the same way as you see me.”

Y/N’s felt his heart shatter, the pieces were spiralling into a million jagged edges. The pain was worse than anything he experienced. It felt worse than any gunshot or stab wound he ever endured. “I understand,” he said. It was evident he was trying to hold back tears. “I just thought… maybe…”

Steve’s hand hovered above Y/N’s. He hesitated before retracting it, unsure if Y/N wanted to be touched or not. “I really am sorry, Y/N. I don’t want to make this awkward between us. I value our friendship too much for that.”

Y/N could only nod again. His chest swelled with a numbing feeling. He then realised what the glint was in Steve’s eyes. It was pity. “Yeah, no I totally understand,” he muttered. He stared at the soapy water. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was stupid – I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Steve said gently. “It was not stupid at all. You have every right to express your feelings. I’m just sorry I couldn’t give you the answer you were looking for, Y/N.”

Y/N could feel the tears pooling near the ducts of his eyes. The weight of the rejection fully settled on his shoulders. “Yeah well…thank you for being honest. I appreciate it, I guess,” he whispered, turning back to the dishes to hide the tears now streaming down his cheeks. He scrubbed at the plates more force than necessary, trying to channel to pain he was feeling towards his hands. 

Steve hesitated. It was clear he wanted to say more, but he could tell Y/N wanted him to leave. “I really am sorry, Y/N.”

Y/N couldn’t trust himself to speak again, afraid his voice would hint at the tears leaving his eyes. After a brief moment of silence, he could hear Steve’s footsteps retracting from the kitchen.

When he was sure Steve was gone, Y/N let out a shaky breath before letting his tears fall freely. He gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles turning white in an attempt to hold himself together. But it was to no avail. He slid down to the floor, back against the kitchen sink. The pain was too raw to hold in. As he buried his head in his hands, he sobbed and prayed that no one would walk in and see his miserable self.

He was fully prepared for the possibility of rejection. But everything in him was hoping Steve would feel the same. That the future he envisioned for both of them together would become real somehow. The heartache he felt was unbearable, and each breath he took was a struggle as he attempted to calm himself down. Was he not good enough for Steve? Was he not attractive enough? Y/N started internally beating himself, trying to find the reason he wasn’t desirable for the only person he could ever want.    

Minutes passed, maybe hours; Y/N wasn’t sure. Eventually, the tears started slowing down and his breathing became more shallow. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand, taking a few shaky breaths before standing up. He knew he had to pick himself up and move on. But for now, Y/N could let himself wallow in his grief. 

As he walked back to his room, he couldn’t help but think if he could ever face Steve without breaking all over again. 

FIN

A/N: Sorry! Hope you enjoyed! Next one will be cute as fuck I didn't enjoy writing this one that much actually it didn't fill me with happy giddy feelings.

Sober Thoughts | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Stark!Male!Reader

REUPLOAD A/N: Hi. It is currently 12:41 AM – another restless night unfortunately sigh. After watching a YouTube video of someone reading the infamous Harry Potter fanfiction My Immortal (I love you Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way), I became filled with unbridled inspiration to write something of my own. Anyways, enjoy! Also this is the very first fanfiction I’ve ever written. Please please please (by Sabrina Carpenter) give constructive feedback that won’t be too harsh on my little soul. This’ll be a fluffy fanfic. I'll dabble in smut later on maybe if y'all enjoy this enough...teehee. Happy BRAT summer/autumn 💚

P.S. Any errors you see will be excused by the fact English is not my first language and NOT because I suck at writing and revising ;) This fic will also be posted on Ao3 after they accept my invitation. Pls let me in Ao3.

Sober Thoughts

Word count: 4.7k

Summary: Y/N gets very drunk in front of Steve

Warnings: Alcohol, profanity

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Being the son of Pepper Potts and the eccentric billionaire, playboy and philanthropist (in that exact order) Tony Stark came with its fair share of drawbacks. While financial security was a given for Y/N, a side that came with this coverage was endless PR events. Being the sole heir to the Stark company, Y/N was forcefully thrusted into the public eye at a very young age, constantly forced to appear at social gatherings for the general public to gain somewhat of a perception of him – hopefully for the better. Today was one of these socially exhausting days, and perhaps his least favourite event of all – the annual ‘Stark Gala: proceeds going to various charities!’ A boring name he is very well aware of, and yes the ‘proceeds going to various charities’ line was annoyingly part of the title – something he had so valiantly fought Tony on, albeit unsuccessfully. 

The gala starts in 2 hours. Currently, in stereotypical Stark fashion, Y/N lay sedentary on his bed, staring at the ceiling whilst pondering for ways to escape the tiring event. Amidst his angsty mood, a knock arose from his door followed by Tony entering his room. 

“Hey bud, no more moping around,” he said after flipping the light switch in Y/N's room, “gala’s not gonna dance itself.”

Y/N turned and laid on his belly, eyes stuffed into his pillow in an attempt to suppress the bright lights, “What if I just don’t come, dad? Just chalk my absence to a cold for the press, please. I have no will nor strength to do this.” 

“You know you can’t do that, Y/N/N. The public requests you grace them with your holy presence at the gala.”

“Dad, what if I just set fire to the venue?”

Tony scoffed at his son's comment. “Don’t bother with that sassy attitude, kid. It’ll be over in a flash. Just enjoy, grab some drinks – and hey you might even find yourself a nice date there.” He said, adjusting a frame on the wall. “My best advice is mingle until your mouth falls off – my dad used to say that to me.” 

As Tony continued slightly tidying Y/N's room, a muffled groan erupted from his pillow. Y/N knew he was very well right; there was no escaping. Resigning to his fate, he abruptly stood up from his bed and began rummaging through his closet. “Fine. I’m going because I want to go, not because you’re forcing me to.”

Tony chuckled and ruffled Y/N's hair. “That’s the spirit, champ. I promise you these things can be fun if you let them. Soak up the atmosphere. And enjoy the drinks.” He then murmured, “Just not too much, as well ‘cause…you know.” 

Tony’s sudden shift in tone was in reference to Y/N's relationship with alcohol. While Tony was notorious for being able to hold his liquor, the alcohol-tolerance gene had unfortunately not been passed down to his son. The last time Y/N drank, which had been at Clint’s birthday party, he had somehow woken up inside of a dumpster – not even exaggerating. Another time, he had taken a plane to Washington and found himself passed out on a bench outside the Pentagon – also not a hyperbole. Aware of this knowledge, Y/N planned on getting absolutely wasted in order to pass the time and to make the night somewhat memorable. 

Y/N ran a hand through his hair attempting to fix it whilst looking for proper attire. “Yes, yes I know, father figure. Do you promise it won’t be boring like last year?”

Tony feigned an offended look, putting his palm against his chest. “Boring? There was an open bar and a chocolate fountain – all appearing again this year, by the way. What more could a man ask for?”

“To not come.” Y/N said begrudgingly.

“Okay well sometimes certain things can’t be provided, sugar plum.” A grimace found itself on Y/N's face after hearing the nickname. Before he could respond, Tony was already halfway through the door. “Anyways, be ready by 8; we’re leaving at 8:30 sharp.”

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The night was, to say the least, already an absolute dread. Upon arriving at the upper-echelon-esque museum where the gala was being held, Y/N was already drained. After exiting the limousine that took both him and Tony to the museum, a torrent of camera flashes had blinded Y/N. Furthermore, before even entering the museum, a news reporter had shoved a microphone into his face and asked a very invasive question about his lovelife. Before Y/N could insult the reporter’s rude behaviour, Tony quickly grabbed his arm and ushered him into the museum. 

It was very well aware by the public of Y/N's choice of abstaining from dating, never really having any serious relationships. This was especially questionable for the public considering who his father was, with everyone believing Y/N would’ve followed in lieu of his behaviour during his 20’s. 

However, what the public didn’t know was that the reason for Y/N's singleness was because of one of his dad’s blonde colleagues (that wasn’t Thor). Y/N's crush for  Steve Rogers AKA Captain America had simmered for the last few months. It began during an incident in the Avenger’s Compound in which the inherent Stark idiocy had decided to bite Y/N severely in the ass.

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It had been late at night and Y/N had been tinkering on some project in one of Tony’s spare workshops in the compound when his phone suddenly rang. Picking it up, he saw Tony was calling him. He paused the music blaring in the workshop’s speakers before answering his dad. 

“Hey bud, I have a favour to ask.”

“What is it, father figure?” He set down a screwdriver he was holding down on the workshop table.

“First, you know I hate it when you call me that. Second, there are some files that were delivered to my office that need to be put into storage in the room beside the training area. Would you mind doing it for me?”

“And why can’t you get Happy or yourself to do it?”

“Well I am actually currently at dinner right now with your mother and we are having a blast right now, and Happy is enjoying a paid holiday in the Bahamas.” 

With an overexaggerated sigh, Y/N hung up on Tony and accepted without further question. 

Heading towards Tony’s office, he marvelled at the emptiness of the Avenger’s Compound. While he never interacted much with the Avengers, only in passing, he was aware that some of them were nightowlers. However, there really was no one. Usually, there would be at least a SHIELD agent somewhere, but tonight the building was completely desolate. 

Upon arriving at Tony’s office, Y/N immediately noticed the large boxes propped on his dad's desk. He had clearly underestimated the sizes of the office boxes, with one he (very dramatically) guesstimated being the size of his torso’s length with a width of a baby whale. Unfortunately for him, there were 5 boxes in total. Being the impatient ass he is, he had decided to carry all of the boxes in one go to spare himself having to return to Tony’s office for a second trip. He noticeably struggled and after leaving Tony’s office, he immediately regretted his decision, wishing he inherited more of his mother’s patience. From a bystander's perspective, it was a comical sight seeing Y/N Stark carrying a tower of boxes almost twice his height. 

After rounding a sharp corner – something that could’ve been easily avoided considering the size of the building’s hallways – Y/N  crashed right into another person. Y/N, along with the boxes, crashed loudly and painfully against the cement floor. 

"Shit," Y/N said out loud. The embarrassment from the predicament was too much for him, so he opted for keeping his eyes on the ground, seemingly becoming very interested in the flooring's designed patterns. He stayed in that position, wallowing in his shame until the other person he had forgotten about spoke up.

"Sorry about that, kid." A low and husky voice spoke above Y/N. Y/N moved his eyes from the floor to the other man in the hallway. He was met with piercing blue eyes and a head of light blonde hair. Great. Not only had he embarrassed himself in front of someone, but that certain someone had to be Captain America of all people. Flashing the best smile he could conjure, Y/N stood up from the floor in an attempt to save as much face as possible.

"No, no, it was all my fault Steve," Y/N chirped. Wow, he sounded like a complete wimp. Not only that, but he called Captain America by his actual legal government name. Y/N did not consider himself close enough to call Captain America Steve. The situation was further going off the rails as they both stood in an uncomfortable silence for what seemed like forever. Suddenly, Steve spoke again, breaking the suffocating air of awkwardness.     

"Need help with those." Steve said, smiling slightly at Y/N. Thinking back on it now, it was definitely the smile that got Y/N hooked into Steve. With a curt nod, both of the men started cleaning the mess of files. "Do these need to be in a specific order?" Steve questioned. Quite frankly, Y/N did not care for the files' order; he was much more preoccupied with the strange feeling down in his stomach. He slapped himself internally before answering Steve.

"I'm not sure actually. The person reading these can decipher that themself." Steve chuckled at his words. An actual, genuine laugh. Y/N found whatever he said to not be as funny Steve was making it out to be. But nevertheless, good job Y/N! You made Captain America laugh at something you said! After tidying the files, the two of them started walking, Y/N in the lead with Steve following in his stead. 

"Where to, Stark Jr.?"  

"The storage room by the training grounds."

The walk to the files' designated area was filled with silence – not uncomfortable like before, but instead a somewhat pleasant quiet. Deciding to be bold, Y/N asked Steve a question.

"What do you do all day?" Wow, Y/N didn't intend on that sounding as rude as it did. 

"What do you mean?" Steve responded.

"Like, what do you do when there isn't a mission where you have to save the world or anything." Great save, Y/N said to himself.

"Well, if there isn't a mission I usually train in the gym – nothing bad in doing some extra training. Other than that, I usually visit SHIELD's headquarters to do business that I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." He turned and smiled at Y/N after saying the last part. The strange feeling was there again.

"That honestly sounds like a miserable existence."  Y/N said. Steve laughed and Y/N smiled, proud of himself for making Captain America laugh a second time this night. "Do you have any actual free time at all?"

"The only time we get to ourselves are weekends. I typically go for jogs in the morning then catch up on any work I didn't get to finish from the weekday. By the time I finish, it's already pretty late at night." As Steve continued to talk, Y/N couldn't help but sneak glances at him. Y/N had noticed a smile was etched on Steve's face and he wondered if it was because Steve enjoyed his company or if he was merely entertained by their topic of conversation. "If I have any time to spare, I like to draw. I've started taking painting classes recently."  

Y/N debated on whether or not to make a joke about Steve's work and him not "finishing" fast enough, but thought it was too weird even for him. "Wow, even on your day off your life sounds bland – aside from the drawing part I guess." Steve had laughed once more at what Y/N said, and Y/N silently applauded himself once again.   

Steve's smile persisted despite Y/N's slight insult to his daily life. "My turn to ask. What do you do all day? I never see you around that much." 

"That's 'cause I'm usually cooped up in a lab somewhere doing tech stuff I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." Steve chuckled again. "If I'm not doing techy stuff, then I'm usually doing boring paperwork for Stark industries. And if I'm not doing that, I'm sleeping peacefully in my bed."

"Now I'm offended by you calling my life bland when yours’ is equally as boring, Y/N," Steve joked.

"It'd be more exciting if you were in it." Oh Y/N, what exactly are you saying now? Suddenly, the signature Stark flirtiness accumulated within Y/N as the next words left his lips. "You should join me on my bed sometime." Oh sweet Jesus. Even Y/N himself shriveled from pure disgust at what he just said. It wasn't even a remotely good pickup line. He fully expected Steve to bolt away as soon as possible and leave him behind with the behemoth-sized boxes.   

Before Steve could respond, the pair found themselves in front of the storage room. Steve opened the door for Y/N who could only mumble a quiet thanks in response as he was still shaken up from his earlier misspeaking. Finding a secluded table in the room, Y/N set down the boxes with Steve following in suit. The two then exited the room and found themselves in yet again another uncomfortable silence. Before Y/N could hurriedly escape, Steve spoke.  

"You should get out of your lab more. I'd like to see more of you around if that's possible." Upon hearing that, the feeling from earlier was present again in Y/N's stomach except it had been exponentially stronger this time. "I enjoyed talking with you, Y/N."  

It was as if Y/N had lost any inkling of social awareness as he said his next remark. "You'd practically have to pry me off a workbench with those big arms of yours, Steve."  

Steve only laughed in response, clearly somewhat amused by Y/N's bold eccentricity. "I'll see you around, Y/N." Steve started walking away before suddenly turning around with a smirk on his mouth. "Oh, and I'll take you up on that earlier offer." 

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Ironically enough, Y/N and Steve have yet to converse with each other again after their brief encounter. This was mainly due to Y/N avoiding Steve after having said his embarrassing comments – especially about Steve's arms, something Y/N can't help but gag at upon reflection. Looking back at their moment together, Y/N can only sigh and hope the super soldier forgot about his humiliating behaviour. 

Looking around the museum, Y/N stared in awe at the inside's appearance. The building itself had replicated the architecture and grandeur of Ancient Greece, with large columns on the building's interior and exterior. While the building itself was an architectural beauty, what really stood out were the floral decorations garnered around the room, both on the tables surrounding the middle of the museum designated as a dance floor and hanging in between the interior pillars. Y/N had to remind himself to find his mother later, who arrived hours earlier to help decorate, and commend her keen taste in floral arrangements. 

Y/N's moment taking in the interior decor was interrupted when he was approached by Tony and a stubby man wearing a suit. Tony introduced the man to Y/N who turned out to be one of Stark Industries' business partners. Nothing notable was said in their conversation aside from numbers and Y/N's vision for the future of Stark Industries. This was how the first half of the night went: Tony introduced Y/N to one of his business partners, boring conversations about logistics would ensue, Y/N was asked about his ideas on Stark Industries' future – rinse and repeat. After numerous runs of this seemingly perpetual cycle, Y/N's social battery had been absolutely drained and Operation Get-Drunk-And-Pass-Out was set in motion. Excusing himself from Tony's presence, Y/N ran a beeline towards the bar, his stride swift with determination to get his hands on anything alcoholic.

Taking a seat at the bar, Y/N began thinking about what he would drink. Suddenly forgetting every alcoholic beverage that ever existed, he waved down the bartender to get his first drink of the night. "I'd like whatever will get me the most piss-faced, please." The bartender simply gave him a cordial smile and nod before pouring a single clear liquid into a small shot glass. He then gave Y/N the glass who before drinking said, "bottoms up." The mystery liquid was absolutely repulsive and scorched Y/N's throat. His face puckered up in pain, eyes shut as tears formed at the brim of his ducts. "Jesus, dude, what is this!?"

"Everclear." The man answered with a very thick Russian accent. Y/N had no idea what that was nor was aware of its very high alcoholic percentage, almost being pure alcohol.  What he did know was the vile taste and painful burn signified it was able to get him 100% wasted. 

"I'll take 10 more of those, please."

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At shot four, Y/N's vision had started getting blurry, his lips and skin felt tingly, and he kept laughing at the most nonsensical things to laugh at. His drunkenness was made very apparent for everyone at the bar when he pointed towards someone's poorly trimmed goatee and laughed maniacally at it. While his actions had been in poor-taste and he was making a grand fool of himself, Y/N could care less as he revelled with his newly acquainted friend, Everclear. 

Before downing shot number five, a man had approached and sat beside Y/N and began ordering. To his surprise, Captain America in the flesh had situated himself beside him at the bar. Knowing Y/N's already embarrassing encounter with him sober, only God knows what was about to ensue between the two of them while he was intoxicated. 

“Enjoying the night, Mr. America?” Y/N slurred. 

“Clearly not as much as you, Y/N.” Steve responded. He was currently sporting a classic black and white tux with a dark blue tie. His attire, while as basic and stereotypical as they come for a formal event, suited him perfectly. Being the idiot Y/N was while drunk, the spike of confidence that surged within him caused him to comment on Steve's appearance.

Y/N leaned towards Steve, getting very close in his personal space, then saying, “apologies, Captain, but you sure do look ravishing if I do say so myself. I’m proud to be an American.” Y/N giggled at himself while Steve looked at him with an amused expression. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re flirting with me, Y/N.” Steve said, flashing his captivating smile. Y/N stared at him with dazed eyes before leaning back and downing his fifth shot of liquid courage.

"Maybe I am flirting with you, Steve. That's what I was doing last time we talked in case you didn't realize."

"Yes, you were quite subtle the last time we spoke." He said sarcastically. He took a sip of whatever he ordered from the bar before continuing. "Speaking of, I've been meaning to talk to you ever since that night, but I could never get a hold of you."

Y/N laughed, not knowing if Steve actually knew why he hasn't seen him since or if he really was oblivious. "Well, Steve, I was avoiding you because I made a fool of myself the last time we talked." A hiccup came out of Y/N's throat. "And then I said to myself, 'Steve probably thinks I'm weird so I'll avoid him to prevent any further embarrassment'." 

"Well, I really did enjoy our conversation last time, Y/N. I mean it."

Similar to their last encounter, a wave of deafening silence consumed the pair's conversation, the awkward tension causing Y/N to become slightly sober. Fortunately for him, the alcohol was still very much prevalent in his bloodstream, giving him enough confidence to break the awkward silence.

"Sometimes I wish I could just run away – leave this life behind and escape to some deserted island.” Y/N glanced towards Steve who was already looking at him. "It's too much at times – this life."

"It would be easier if you had someone with you for the journey."

Y/N looked at him, feigning an incredulous look. "Are you implying with your word choice, manner of speaking and overall cadence that you want to be that person for me?" Y/N laughed, scoffed was more like it. "I'd say you're the person flirting with me, Steve."

Steve chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving Y/N. "Maybe I am, Y/N."

Y/N could only stare at him as his heart skipped a beat. Perhaps it was the alcohol messing with his senses and disposition, but his usual wit was gone and he was speechless – a rare moment for Starks. Noticing his hesitation, Steve leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a near whisper.

"Y/N, you don't have to go through this life alone. I've seen through your father how hard it can be for someone in your position. But you don't have to bear it all by yourself."

"Do you really mean that, Steve? Or are you just saying all this because I'm drunk and pathetic." Y/N's voice wavered, the confidence he had during their last encounter was noticeably absent.

Steve reached out, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder. "I've noticed you, Y/N. Even though we haven't talked much, I can already tell you're a special person. You're more than just Tony Stark's kid. There's something unique about you. And I want to get to know you more."

The butterflies Y/N felt during their last encounter returned and did pirouettes in his stomach. "I don't know what to say, Steve."

"You don't have to say anything right now. Just know I'll be here and I won't be leaving anytime soon."

Y/N looked at Steve, a whirlwind of emotions torpedoing inside of him. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel so alone. The confidence suddenly returned and a smile braced itself on Y/N's face. "Are you technically asking me out?"

Steve only laughed in response before standing up and saying, "I can take you home now if you want."

Y/N quickly stood up. "Oh yes please, Steve. Another minute in here and I think I'll have an aneurysm." As the two started walking, a sudden wave of a burdening reminder of his father's presence washed over Y/N. "Wait, I can't leave – dad said I-." 

Before Y/N could finish, Steve quickly interrupted him. "I think everyone here, including Tony, can see you're in no condition to be here any longer." 

Y/N could only nod, too exhausted to protest. As they exited the building Y/N's head grew heavy, and it gently fell onto Steve’s shoulder. Steve tensed for a moment, then relaxed as his arm slowly wrapped around Y/N’s waist, pulling him closer. “Take me home, Steve,” Y/N mumbled softly against his shoulder, his breath warm against Steve’s neck.

"That's what I'm doing right now, Y/N." Steve said softly.

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After exiting the building, Steve hailed one of the idle limousines across the museum. He had to carefully slide in Y/N's body before sliding in beside him.

The ride back to the Avenger's Compound was quiet and tranquil, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the earlier evening. Steve glanced at his watch - it said 3:33 AM - then turned his gaze towards Y/N's sleeping body leaning against the car window. A small dribble of saliva was escaping the corners of his mouth, and Steve quietly chuckled.

"I can feel you looking at me. Cut it out." 

"Unfortunately, I can't seem to stop my eyes from lingering on things I find beautiful." Y/N could only blush at Steve's unexpectedly sappy words, unaware the super soldier had it in him to be a corny romantic.

"You're no better than any other man, Steve Rogers," Y/N teased, though his voice was softer than before. Steve smiled, but was interrupted by a loud yawn erupting from his mouth. Abruptly, Y/N sat up straight from his slouched position, suddenly remembering something in his drunken haze. "You know, you still have yet to cash in on my offer, Steve."

"You mean your offer to be in bed with you?" Steve asked, his tone in between amusement and curiosity.

Y/N eagerly nodded. "I wouldn't mind if that happened tonight."

Steve's head turned at a concerning speed that definitely would've given a normal person severe whiplash. He gave Y/N a stern yet somber look, one that carried warmth with a reprimanding undertone behind it. "I'm not going to sleep with you, Y/N. I mean, you're drunk and that would be me taking advantage of you – I'd like to think you expect better from me."

Y/N blinked, looking both very offended and embarrassed. "That is absolutely not what I meant, Steve, you naughty man!" He crossed his arms and sunk into the limo's soft leather seats. "I meant that it would be nice if we just laid and went to sleep together...I just don't want to be alone tonight."

Steve's expression softened immediately, understanding the vulnerability behind Y/N's words. Their eyes met, a silent agreement shared between them, filling the rest of the ride with warmth from their comforting connection. 

As the car grew quiet again, Y/N, emboldened by the last remnants of alcohol in his system, threw one more cheeky remark towards Steve. "But you would have sex with me, right?" 

Steve laughed, his head shaking, but the tenderness in his smile spoke volumes. "Get some rest, Y/N. We'll talk in the morning."

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Y/N stirred awake in his bed, his eyes wincing as the harsh rays pierced through a gap between his bedroom curtains. His head pounded, and a wave of nausea met him immediately. Unable to fight it, Y/N ran to his bathroom, purging the contents of last night's festivities in his toilet. It was quite a horrid sight. 

After what seemed like hours, Y/N exited from his bathroom, wanting to get more sleep. Stumbling back to his bed, he noticed the large body-shaped mound from underneath his blankets. Frightened, he approached it cautiously, scared of the idea of having drunkenly slept with a stranger. 

Slowly uncovering the body, Y/N was met with the peaceful sight of a sleeping Captain America. Steve's chest rose and fell steadily, lips parted as he took even breaths. Then, the events of the previous night came rushing back to him like a semi-good dream and Y/N mentally facepalmed himself. However, while he internally scolded himself for his embarrassing behaviour, he also congratulated himself for having been somewhat successful in his endeavours of pursuing Steve. 

Laying back down gingerly beside Steve, Y/N grabbed his phone from the nightstand. The time was 11:11 AM and Y/N silently made a wish to himself. He noticed he had received 10 missed calls and nearly 50+ messages from his dad. Thinking it was regarding his early leave from the gala, Y/N decided to deal with his father later, still exhausted from the night before. Opening Twitter (he refused to call it 'X'), Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as he saw his name trending alongside 'Steve Rogers' and 'Captain America.' A knot formed in his stomach and he decided to Google his name. The urge to puke suddenly returned as he was met with a news article reading:

‘Hottest New Couple in NYC?! – Captain America & Y/N Stark Seen  Seen Getting Cozy During Annual Stark Gala’  

Below the headline was a picture snapped of Steve and Y/N at the bar, Steve leaning closely towards Y/N as both shared very flirtatious smiles towards each other. Y/N groaned loudly, causing Steve to stir awake. Today was going to be PR hell.

FIN

A/N: This actually took multiple days to write and while rereading it it's actually really corny? But, fanfic writing is actually kind of fun, I might do it more. Anyways, hope you enjoyed :) Also sorry for any mistakes I'm too lazy to revise

MARVEL OC!!!

okay okay OKAY. Listen, I'm primarily part of the Star Wars fandom (and random shitposts, but we don't talk bout that) BUT, I've recently gotten back into marvel by watching daredevil AND LET ME TELL YOU I've had this OC idea for MONTHS and I've finally had the time to write it out.

[Image description: A picture depicting a young girl in a kn95 mask and hood coving her hair is shown. They are angled away from the viewer, but her eyes are looking towards the viewer. They have a bandage on their right eyebrow, and a strand of hair falling in front of her left eye. The second picture shows a front profile of the same person without the mask and hood, but their eyes are glancing to the right. She has short dark hair with a small streak of white, a bandage on her right eyebrow, a black eye with a tiny scar above the eye, and a scar across their nose. They have a very faint smirk. Above the pictures have the words "Phantom/Daisy Dixon, She/They" in the right corner and "MCU/NMCU" in the left. Underneath the pictures are lines of writing depicting a backstory and powers. End Image Description.]

Don't worry Ima give you the backstory >:) (though I might change the backstory a bit, this is just the outline technically)

TW: Death, Abuse, religious trauma (don't know if this counts but ima be safe), Suicide, sexual assault (not to any of the characters, just mentioned as a crime) tell me if I missed any!

Text: Phantom is a 15-year-old Vigilante, whose real name is Daisy Dixon. Daisy was raised in a very sheltered home with her father (Donald), mother (Sylvia), and 18-year-old brother (Martin). Daisy grew up in a strict Christian household with her father being passionate about Christian ideals and being a saint/martyr. Daisy was closer with her mother as she got older, as her father's ideas scared her and made her uncomfortable. Martin and Daisy were close when they were younger, but Daisy started to avoid him when his ideas became more like their fathers, and he started participating in illegal activities.

The family grew up in a small town in Oregan, before moving to NYC when Daisy was 12 for better economic opportunities. Daisy and her father went on a hiking trip to North Carolina a year after moving to NYC. On the third day of the trip, Daisy's and her father got into an argument that escalated quickly, and in a fit of rage, Daisy's father pushed her off the cliff the two were staying on. Daisy fell into a creek polluted by chemicals and died. Donald was known to be short-tempered and scary, but he had never physically hurt anyone. When he realized what he had done, he committed suicide by hanging.

Daisy's body was found the next day by a couple hiking, and she was taken to a hospital morgue. Hours later, she woke up, shocking everyone. She was questioned by the police, and she told them what happened (which is how they found her father's body later that day), and once she was deemed physically and (semi) mentally fit to travel, she was taken back to NYC and her family was filled in on the situation. Since then, Daisy and her mother had a strained relationship. Sylvia blamed Daisy because she started the argument.

Days later, Daisy discovered her powers on a walk at night when she went to help an injured woman in an alleyway and realized she had the ability to heal. Situations like these continued to happen, and Daisy discovered all of her powers. Eventually, Daisy became a vigilante/medic for the people and deemed herself Phantom. A month later, Daisy started to fight petty crimes (car robbers, pickpocketers, bullies) alongside healing people. When she turned 14, she started to fight bigger criminals (drug dealers, sexual assaulters, child abusers), and this is when she became more known to the public, and eventually, after she took down her first gang (admittedly it was small), she was recognized as one of NYC's beloved (by the people, we all know what news reporters think) vigilantes.

Second Text:

Powers: —Invisibility —Phase through non-living objects —Healing —Enhanced Agility, Flexibility, Speed, Stamina, and Strength

Side effects: —low energy levels after using powers —Sensitivity to the sun —increased metabolism

(yes I know some of the text on this post and the paper doesn't match up, that is on purpose. I changed some stuff.)

The golden retriever in me goes crazy when watching shows. I’m like “you know how I would have fixed this, group hug!!!” Like tf??? Who do I think I am???

Peter: It’s Christmas! Are you all in a Christmas mood?!

Ned: Merry crisis.

Y/N: Jingle bells, jingle bells, single all the way.

MJ: Hoe hoe hoe.

Peter: Guys, please.

Steve: Hey, what have you two been up to?

Thor: We were helping Y/N write their vows, but they kicked us out because Bucky was making inappropriate suggestions.

Bucky: How is “Loki, I love your sweet ass” inappropriate?

Peter 1= Tom’s Peter

Peter 2= Tobey’s Peter

Peter 3= Andrew’s Peter

Peter 3: Is the plural of milf/dilf milfs/dilfs or milves/dilves?

Peter 1: Milfs.

Peter 2: Milf/dilf is an acronym, you can't change the spelling to milves/dilves.

Peter 3 : Wait, they're acronyms? What do they stand for???

Y/N: Mom in late forties, dad in late fourties.

Y/N: I learned that from the movie called M.I.L.F that I saw the trailer of in theaters probably 5 to 7 years ago.

Peter 2: Mom/dad I'd Love to Fuck.

Peter 3 : WAIT, WHAT THE FUCK—

Peter 3 : I NEVER REALIZED IT WAS ACTUALLY HORNY!

Y/N: Oh, is it not mom in late fouries?

Peter 1: What? No! It isn't!

Y/N: THE MOVIE TRAILER LIED TO ME!

Peter 2: Y/N...

Y/N: THIS IS WHY I DIDN'T THINK CALLING PEOPLE MILFS WAS ALL THAT BAD BECAUSE IT STOOD FOR SOMETHING HARMLESS IT JUST HAD A SLIGHTLY SEXUAL CONNOTATION!

Peter 2: I am entirely unsurprised that this is coming from you.

Y/N: PETER 3 , DOES IT MAKE SENSE WHY I CALLED THE DIARY OF A WIMPY KID MOM A MILF NOW BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WAS LITERALLY JUST A DESCRIPTOR WITH FUNNY CONNOTATION!

Peter 3 : The word milf has been ruined for me.

Peter 1: THAT'S ITS DEFINITION, IT CAN'T BE RUINED THAT'S WHAT IT MEANS!

Peter 2: Y'all are dumbasses.

A/N- For those of you that don’t remember…

Peter 1= Tom’s Peter

Peter 2= Tobey’s Peter

Peter 3= Andrew’s Peter

Y/N: Subs are so fun to play with. All you have to do is hint at what you might do, back them into a corner with a look, or grab their wrist in a certain way and they're a wide-eyed mess.

Peter 3: What the fuck kind of Subway are you going to?

Peter 1: Substitute teachers deal with so much shit.

Peter 2: Guys.

Surprise, Surprise

A/N- Please keep in mind, this is my first time writing a Reader Insert. So, I'm sorry in advance if this isn't that good.

Loki x Fem!Reader

F/F= Favorite Food

Imagine on the elevator, Thor talks to Loki about a girl he met while on Midgard, having no idea that girl happened to be Loki girlfriend of 6 years, you.

"I'm sorry, my lady." Thor's voice booms throughout the kitchen after having bumped into you after turning away from the fridge. You smiled softly and nodded your head in thanks. "It's no problem Thor." you said. "Would you like to have lunch with me, my lady? Everyone seems to be out of the Compound at the moment." Thor asks in a surprisingly soft voice. "Why the hell not? My name is Y/N L/N, by the way." You smiled widely. "It is nice to meet you, lady Y/N. What would you like to eat?" Thor grins, gesturing to open-planned kitchen in the Avengers Compound. "I'll just take a plate of F/F from the fridge, Thor. Thank you." You spoke before sitting at the dinning room table, as Thor plated both you and him some F/F. After heating both plates up, Thor flopped into the chair next to the one you were sitting in, after putting both plates on the table. You and Thor got to know one another as you both ate. Loki had told you about Thor and stories about when they were little, but you didn't think Thor would have such Golden Retriever energy based off of what Loki had said. You guys eventually went separate ways as Thor said he was off to the gym. You bid goodbyes as you went back to Loki's room. As you arrived at Loki's room, you could see him walking down the hall towards the Elevator. "I'm going to get a new book, my Queen." Loki spoke softly but loud enough for you to hear, without turning around, as if sensing your confusion. "Ok, I'll be in your bedroom, my King." You spoke before heading into Loki's room and closing the door.

Loki got to the elevator the same time as Thor, and coincidentally the Library and gym are one floor apart. Going the same way, down. Thor held the elevator doors open for his brother which had Loki nodding his thanks. "I met such a wonderful maiden today, brother." Thor announced as the elevator doors closed. Loki raised an eyebrow in question, which Thor noticed. "Why yes, she was the upmost kind and sweet woman I've ever met. I think you would love her. She has a mischievous side but also has a kind and caring nurture to her. I think you and her would get along great after some of the pranks she told me she's pulled on her older brother." Thor explained with a bright smile. "Who is this, you speak of Thor?" Loki questioned with genuine curiosity. "Her name was Y/N L/N. She was brilliant, she was." Thor spoke, with wild gestures of his hands, before smiling at his brother. "I think you and her would get along great." He added quickly, noticing Loki's amusement to the situation. Loki nodded with a mischievous sparkle to his eyes. "I'll keep that in mind, brother. Thank you." He spoke with a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. "No problem, brother." Thor grinned while giving Loki a pat on the back.

As Thor and Loki went their separate ways once arriving to the destined floor, Loki smiled to himself, a genuine smile, just thinking about you and thinking he's ready to tell the team about you. He knows you're the one for him. You complete him. You make him feel things he's never felt before. You are the love of his life. He doesn't know what he would do without you. You make him a better person. Loki is happy for the first time in what feels like forever because of you. He is beyond grateful he met you. He would go to the end of the Nine Realms for you. He would kill for you. He would do anything you asked of him. You have him wrapped around your finger like there is no tomorrow.

Loki, negotiating with Steve & Bucky

Loki: We have Y/N. Give us ten thousand dollars and they will be returned to you unharmed

Y/N: Whoa, whoa, wait, you think I'm only worth ten thousand dollars?

Steve & Bucky:

Y/N: MAKE IT ONE MILLION-

Steve & Bucky, in unison: Y/N STOP

Thor: I put the pun in punishment.

Ned: I put the top in unstoppable.

Peter: I put the cute in execute.

Y/N: I put the sexy in dyslexia.

MJ: I put the ass in class.

Loki: I put the D in Y/N.

Thor: Who would you kill out of the four of us, Steve?

Steve: Bruce, easily.

Bruce, laughing: What the fuck, man.

Steve: Well, Tony would be too easy. He’d probably be into it.

Tony, now standing in the doorway: What the fuck, man!?