tulipfantasies

[tulipfantasies]

i promise i am still alive. i am so sorry for slow updates. my mental health took a major hit and i recently started college again.

[tulipfantasies]

i watched the hunger games for the first time a few days ago (catching fire is the best one). be prepared to see a lot more of katniss and peeta hehe.

if my writer's block gives up bc rn it's being a bitch.

[tulipfantasies]

night owl ✩ n.romanoff

pairing; natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary; after having a restless night, you decide to head to natasha's room to relax and watch a film with her. 

characters; friday and liho

warnings; pure fluff, cheesy (near the end), (sort of) established relationship, nat's a bit of a james bond nerd (sorry not sorry), i waffled on (may re-edit it later), r is ticklish

my notes; i love the fact she memorises the dialogue to the james bond films (she's so real for that). credit to the owner of the prompt, (i got it from a generator). also it's my birthday!!

word count; 2.6k ao3

3:36 am.

Deep silver pools of moonlight gently cascaded through the thick curtains, blocking out the silver star-ridden sky gleaming down on the deserted streets. 

The night was still. Not a single soul was awake for miles on end; it felt as if the world slept to the everlasting stretch of silence coating the streets of New York like a pearly blanket of snow. 

The Avengers Tower carried such a serene atmosphere that if someone were to drop a single pin, those living in the tower would hear the minute-clattering noise it made upon impact.

Those are often the best kinds of nights.

Tonight, unfortunately, was not one of those peaceful nights. Not for you and not for several other earth-saving heroes (it’s hardly surprising given that some of them have insomnia). 

Tonight was one of those rare nights that dragged on continuously; the seconds turned into minutes and the minutes into hours. The longer time ticked on, the more you gradually grew restless.

The only noise that floods your bedroom is the rustling sound of the bed sheets as you toss and turn for the umpteenth time in the hour alone.

Right left, left right. No spot was comfortable enough to fall asleep. 

Whatever direction you find yourself in, it feels like you are lying on a large slab of rock rather than the usual soft cloud.

There weren’t many thoughts occupying your mind at this hour, but for some reason, your mind was completely wired, which prevented you from sleeping.

With a quiet and exasperated scoff, you push yourself up into a sitting position, causing the blankets you were wrapped in to drop from around your body.

You shiver at the sudden coldness of the night’s air seeping into your body. 

Someone turned the thermostat on the floor down again. She has a habit of doing that.

Everything goes dead silent. There is no sound of rustling bedsheets, no distant police or ambulance sirens, just pure silence. 

Your eyes wearily glance around your bedroom so you can soak in the pale moonlight, tinting your belongings with a gentle glow. Your hands gently rub against your bleary eyes before they rise to smooth out your messy strands of hair. 

“Friday?” You call out to the AI, expecting an immediate response. You let out a soft yawn.

“Yes, Miss L/n?” Her familiar and cheerful Irish voice answers your call immediately. Just as expected.

“What time is it?”

“Currently, it’s 3:36 am, Miss. You’ve been tossing and turning for over an hour; is there anything I can do to help?”

“Uh, no, thank you, Friday.” You quietly reply, just as another yawn falls from your lips. You peel back the duvet. “Is anyone else awake?”

“Miss Romanoff and Mr Stark are currently the only ones awake.” She informs before going silent until her name is addressed again.

You murmur a soft ‘thank you’.

It wasn’t surprising that those two were the only ones awake in the tower—besides you. Natasha has always been a night owl; Tony is one of those who have insomnia. They’re usually up taking in the silence while doing their things. 

You need to kill time fast.

You could open your laptop and start scrolling through Netflix to watch a film or series, to take your mind off things until you fall asleep; even the thought of scrolling through seems tedious. 

Too tedious for this hour, you think to yourself.

Another option includes sneaking down to the training facility to get a few extra hours of training under your belt; the thought of being sore and sweaty had your face scrunching in disgust.

Most certainly not.

Maybe you’ll go and keep Natasha company for a little while. 

You swing your legs out of the duvet and off the bed so your feet can touch the cold floorboard under your bed. A slow shiver rolls down your spine as you rise to your feet with an exhausted sigh. 

You slowly wander away from your bed and across your bedroom, so you can quietly swing open the door and make your way out. You sluggishly walk down and across the hall, where Natasha’s room is. 

From outside her room, you could just about make out the sounds of her TV playing at a low volume, which is presumably done not to wake you.

Even late at night, she’s still thoughtful.

You silently thank Tony for putting you and Natasha on the same floor and that she was in her room tonight, not wandering around or in the training facility to relieve her tension (which she has a habit of doing). 

You notice the fact—as you get closer and closer—that her door was open just enough to let the soft, warm glow from her bedside light trickle out from the crack.

It paints a section of the floor beneath your feet amber.

“Nat?” You whisper as you poke your head through the crack between the door and the white-painted door frame. “Is it okay if I come in?”

You push the door open a little wider to catch the perfect glimpse of her. She looks peaceful and content with the silence while she watches another James Bond film. 

She was sprawled across her bed—with her red hair splayed across her pillow—as she silently mouthed along to the dialogue of the 007 film.

If you’re not mistaken, she’s watching ‘From Russia With Love’.  

It’s like she’s seen the film franchise way too many times to count; she probably has seen them all so many times. You wouldn’t blame her if she did.

The second her emerald gaze finds your weary one, her lips curl into a warm and inviting smile. She pauses for a minute or two before scooting over—to make enough room for you—while pulling back the duvet and patting the bed. 

An invitation to join her in watching her film, or knowing her, a marathon. An invitation that you gladly accept.

“What are you doing up this late, detka?” She coos as you remain by the door frame for a few minutes longer. “It’s unlike you to be up this late; is something on your mind?”

You shake your head as you wearily make your way over to the bed. You intended to climb in to watch the remaining half of the film with her like you’ve done many times before.

Standing by the doorway for so long meant that you didn’t initially notice the ball of black fur curled up on her other pillow (plus it was dark), so you were pleasantly surprised to see the other guest as you reached her bed.

Liho. 

Natasha swears that Liho isn’t her cat, and she’s nothing more than a stray who loves following her around; you know otherwise. 

“Hey, Liho, do you mind giving up the pillow?” You whisper to the cat before leaning over to scratch behind her ear, making her purr quietly. You turn to Natasha with an amused look. 

“Don’t,” she says sternly while focusing on the screen.

“I thought she wasn’t allowed on your bed.” 

“She’s not,” she replies as she glances over at the black cat, who looks happy where she is. “Someone keeps letting her in. I bet it’s Bucky; y’know how he is with Alpine.”

You chuckle to yourself before scooping the cat up and practically sinking into the softness of her mattress and duvet.

You let out a peaceful sigh as you could feel your muscles relaxing, and Liho nuzzled her head against you. 

“She’s not that bad, y’know. She’s sweet.”

“Mhm, you didn’t answer my question from earlier. Is something on your mind?”

“No,” you mumble as she shuffles so she is close enough to encase her arms around your torso. “I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t mean to interrupt your film. Is this your first James Bond film of the night?”

The back of your thighs was touching hers, and your back was pressed firmly into her chest. Her grip around your waist was gentle, while her fingertips brushed over your hip in a soothing circular motion. 

“No,” she quietly replies. “Second.”

Natasha’s soothing motion against your hip had you mirroring the motion onto Liho’s head (behind her ears). Liho’s purrs grew louder, which made you smile softly.

At this point, it was almost second nature for her to pull you as close to her as possible while her hands rested somewhere on your body (usually on your back or hip).

It’s like an instinct for her.

“Chronological order, Nat?”

“Mhm,” she hums while lifting her fingers from your hip to absentmindedly run them lightly up and down your forearm. They feel cold against your warm skin. “I just finished watching Dr. No.”

“Is that the one with Sean Connery or Roger Moore?” You ask, already knowing the answer yourself.

Honestly, you just wanted to hear her enthusiastically talk about it. Her quiet excitement about certain things has you falling even deeper in love with her, which seems impossible to do.

At the same time, you want to tease her so badly. Tease her for being so sweet and slightly nerdy.

It’s not the smartest idea to tease an assassin about how sweet and nerdy she is when she talks about certain things.

No, you wouldn’t wake up the next day, so it’s best to keep the thought to yourself.

“Sean Connery, detka,” she replied to your question with a soft chuckle. “Moonraker is one of Roger Moore’s films, which is a good film too.”

You let out a quiet ‘ah’ sound before shuffling in closer to her—if possible—to bask in the warmth she was still radiating. It’s relaxing, even soothing.

“Have I-”

“Yeah, you’ve watched Moonraker with me.”

Hm. You didn’t need to get the words out for her to know what you were about to say. 

“I never did ask why you were up so late, Nat,” you whisper as you weaken your grip on Liho, who is asleep. “But I’m going to assume that the mission you just came back from is messing with you.”

She lets out a small sigh. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

Missions aren’t always easy; sometimes they can go pear-shaped to the point where they're compromised.

You’ve been on many missions that have gone off the tracks, but every single time you’ve dealt with them head-on.

“Put it out of your mind,” you whisper as you tilt your head upward to catch her softened and tired gaze. “That was one day; tomorrow is another.”

“Alright, Miss Wisdom, that’s enough for one night,” she lightly teases as she looks down at you for a fleeting minute before looking back at the screen. 

You weren’t following along with the story in the slightest. You don’t have much interest in watching James Bond at this hour; you are too busy enjoying her warmth as she gently holds onto you as if you were delicate.

You remain silent in her arms while she occasionally nuzzles her nose into your hair for that extra stretch of comfort and reassurance that she’s not alone.

She’ll never be alone.

“He wouldn’t be able to do that,” she grumbles, clearly unamused. Ah, there’s the habit that you love and hate. “He’d kill himself right away.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing, detka,” she murmurs before quickly kissing your hair while inhaling the scent of your shampoo. “I’m just talking to myself.”

Anyone who knows her well enough should know that Natasha tends to correct any inaccuracies in spy films. Half of the time, she doesn’t even realise she’s doing it, so it’s almost like it's an instinct for her to correct the character’s mistakes.

While it’s very endearing to see her so invested in something, it can get annoying.

Yelena has the same habit as Natasha, making it harder to watch spy films with either of them.

“You know, you and Yelena have the same habit,” you whisper as you drag your hand down the cat’s back before she climbs out of your arms. 

“Oh yeah?” Natasha replies as she watches the screen before looking down at you. She’s smiling lovingly. “And what habit would that be, detka?”

“You both love pointing out and correcting any inaccuracies in spy films.” 

“I do not do that,” Natasha denies, even though there is a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. 

“Oh, you don’t? Because, if I recall correctly, you just said ‘he wouldn’t be able to do that’. It sounds like pointing out to me, Nat.” You tease before squealing as she gently digs her fingers into your hips.

In one swift move, she is hovering over you with one hand by your head to hold herself up while her other is wiggling at your side.

If there’s one sound Natasha loves more than your voice, it's the sound of your pure, unbridled laughter.

“Nat! Stop!” You squeal out as your hands reach up to her forearms to try and get her to stop attacking your sides.

She doesn’t stop; she smiles at you with a loving gaze.

“I’ll only stop if you admit that I don’t have a habit of doing that,” she says in a slightly proud tone. “Yelena might, but I certainly don’t.”

“Okay, okay,” you say before holding your hands up like a truce. “You don’t do that.”

She grins triumphantly before lifting her hand and placing it on the other side of your head so she can get a better view of you and how red you’ve gone from laughing. 

“Neither of you can go a single film without pointing a mistake out for the rest to see,” you say quickly, causing her to roll her eyes and pepper kisses all over your cheeks.

“Ugh, fine,” she grits out in between each kiss she lays on your cheeks. “Maybe I do. Okay, I correct and point out mistakes in spy films; it’s not my fault they are often inaccurate.”

“Alright, we’ll agree to disagree. C’mere.”

Natasha doesn’t waste any time when it comes to sinking back into her mattress behind you. She snakes her arms around your waist before pulling you flush against her chest, like before she started tickling you.

The last thing that Natasha is focused on is what Sean Connery’s Bond is doing or saying on the TV screen.

No, she’s focused on how your nose scrunches as you yawn softly or on your weary smile.

It is pretty late, so she wouldn’t blame you if you fell asleep in her arms. She wants you to, selfishly, because she loves it.

“Sleep, detka,” she coos softly in your ear before pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere; you’re safe with me.”

“I always am,” you whisper before sighing contently after yawning for the second time in a minute. “I just want to stay up and talk with you. Or at least finish watching your film with you.”

“We can talk more in the morning; just close your eyes.”

Her thumb softly dragged your knuckles back and forth due to your hands being laced together, while her other hand softly drew circles into your exposed arm.

So soothing.

Put both of those together, and you’re on the verge of sleep.

It wasn’t long before you were quietly snoring while nestled in her protective embrace.

Natasha stayed awake a little longer to soak up your gentle sounds mixed with Liho’s content purrs. 

The mischievous cat was back laying on her pillow, despite not being allowed anywhere on her bed.

Nothing mattered as the world stood still as she gazed lovingly at her girls.

You and Liho are her girls (even if she’d never admit the cat was hers; everyone knows Liho is her cat).

She likes how it rolls off the tongue.

“I love you,” she whispers as she presses a feather-light kiss to your cheeks as you sleep. Her eyes drifted closed. “More than you’ll ever know.”

[tulipfantasies]

night on the town ✩ n.romanoff

pairing; natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary; a simple night on the town leads to the discoveration of pain and addiction.

characters; (mentions) og 6 and a woman named maria (not hill).

warnings; 16+ (just to be safe), use of alcohol and cigarettes, (mentions) underage smoking, (mentions) addiction, (mentions) natasha's past at the red room, (mild) swearing, (mild) jealous r, nat is ooc again, (minor) angst and fluff. 

my notes;  please, if any of the topics in bold make you uncomfortable or trigger you, do not read onwards. i don't want to upset anyone so consider it your warning. i don't think i like this one. can anyone spot the small pop culture reference??

word count; 2.6k ao3

A ‘simple night on the town’ turns into 1:04 am. 

The entire length of the streets of New York was bathed in a soft amber glow, all thanks to the street lights that were situated on every corner of the Avenues. 

Midtown, or at least the side you all find yourselves on, was eerily calm given the environment (and the atmosphere hidden on the inside) that was nestled amongst the usually busy streets.

No car horns were heard for miles on end.

For the middle of spring, the air was bitterly cold yet so freeing. In stark contrast to the air behind the secured doors, which was heavy and suffocating.

Tony, among one of his genius plans, had decided that you all deserved to take a break from your demanding and life-saving lives.

He described it as a ‘simple night out on the town’, but we all know that in Tony’s dictionary, that was an excuse for him to get shit-faced. 

So, naturally, you all tagged along to keep him out of trouble and to have a little fun yourselves.

Who could pass up a free drink and the chance to unwind anyway?

Now, none of the team members that tagged along were anywhere in sight except for those who were strictly keeping sober or physically couldn’t get drunk.

The sensible ones.

The only remaining ones were around the table in the VIP booth that Tony rented in the club.

2:45 am.

It’s been 1 hour and 41 minutes since you last saw her dancing with some brunette, who has definitely drunk more than the legal requirement.

Desperate.

1 hour and 41 minutes of scanning through the hot and heavy crowd in search of a single sign that she was still dancing with the brunette or getting another drink at the bar.

None. 

“Y/n? Where are you going?” Steve’s voice calls out over the booming music as he watches you snatch your phone from off the table impatiently.

“Need fresh air.” You reply hastily before throwing a small smile over your shoulder and in his direction.

“She’s going to find Nat,” Clint’s voice could just about be heard over the music as he was talking to Steve and you were walking further away. “Like always.”

The music was practically deafening to the ears; the last thing on a drunken mind was the volume of the music.

Sex and more alcohol always are. 

You were just silently thanking yourself that you had entered the club with a lot more self-control and had only ended up getting tipsy this time around.

Unlike Tony who was completely shit-faced.

Pushing through the thick sea of plastered couples (who were dancing in a way that was even too much for you) was a task in itself but you finally managed to reach the front doors to the club.

Soft, yet bright, light was emitted in your direction causing you to wince. 

You let out a large sigh of relief the further away you stumble from the raging nightclub, random shot glass in hand, and into the bitter air that pierced the exposed skin on your arms and legs.

A small shiver runs down your spine.

“Fancy seeing you here,” A sultry voice brings your, slightly blurred, attention away from the empty shot glass in your hand and toward the direction where it came from.

The dimly lit alleyway. “Got tired of being in there?”

“Nat!” You exclaim in relief as you slowly make your way over toward the alleyway. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you for like the past hour.”

The closer you reach her, the more of her outline you can make out.

She’s leaning up against the masonry while nursing a half-empty bottle of tequila (or vodka, it was too dark to make it out) in one hand and a lit cigarette in between her index finger and middle finger on her other.

A dangerous combo for a dangerous woman.

“I’ve been out here the entire time, detka.”

“Oh? With that brunette who was all over you like some desperate-”

“Careful now,” She cuts your words off with a smug grin and a tsk sound. “You had a lot to drink, detka?”

“Uh, yeah, a few but I’m not drunk like Tony.” You reply as you make a move to lean up against the wall opposite to her.

No other words were spoken as she raised the cigarette to her lips to take a long drag. 

Drag after drag, she slowly puffs the lethal smoke out towards the right of her while she makes sure that not once does she take her emerald gaze from off of you.

It was an intense gaze.

“But that’s beside my point, who the hell was that brunette dancing with you?” You ask abruptly with a raised brow. She chuckles in amusement at your clear jealousy. “Because she was getting way too cosy with you.”

“No one important, just someone who drunkenly came up and started dancing with me,” Natasha replies as if it never bothered her because it didn’t bother her. “Think she said her name was Maria or something.” 

Maria. “Hm, you seemed to get pretty handsy with her, do you like her?”

“Where’s all this jealousy coming from, Y/n/n?” She asks in an amused tone which is followed by a chuckle. Oh, she was enjoying this. “To be fair, it’s amusing seeing you go all green over some random girl, especially one I don’t know or have an interest in.”

“Y’know, I’d rather not discuss it.” You say, brushing off her question and ignoring her comment as you turn to face away from her so she can’t see you roll your eyes.

There’s a pregnant pause before you clear your throat and look back toward her with a slightly softened gaze.

The cigarette remains firmly pressed in between her fingers.

“Have you always smoked?” You ask, to change the subject, as you fold your arms over your chest.

Natasha doesn't reply straight away but takes another drag.

She drops the remaining bit of her cigarette onto the ground so that she can stamp harshly on it, with the sole of her shoe, just to make sure that it’s out.

“Mhm,” she hums with a shrug of her shoulders. “Just kept it to myself, I guess.”

Taking your bottom lip in between your upper front teeth, you nervously chew on it as she leans forward to slip the shot glass from out of your hand and into hers.

Without any sounds, she lets the clear liquid trickle out of the bottle and into the shot glass before gently handing it back to you.

You bring the rim of the shot glass to your lips before knocking it back in one go. Straight tequila. 

“Oh, god, that’s tequila.” You state in a strained voice and with a noticeable grimace as the liquid burns the back of your throat.

Natasha chuckles at the sight of your grimace before smiling softly as you clear your throat. “You okay there, detka?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You reply before sighing and reaching up to give your temple a quick but firm rub. “You know smoking is bad for your lungs, right? And besides, what are you out here drinking tequila straight for?”

With her fingers curled around the neck of the tequila bottle, she brings the rim of the bottle up to her lips intending to tip it back to take another swig.

But she doesn’t. 

“You only get one chance in life, detka,” she replies nonchalantly, ignoring your second question, before finally taking a swig of the alcohol. “I’ve learnt that the hard way.”

Given what she was forced to witness and trained into doing while growing up, it made some sense for her to be wishing away her life like this.

That amount of trauma is often immovable and can only be numbed by the effects of drugs and alcohol.

The Red Room raised those girls into being their bloodthirsty puppets, the ones who were forced to believe that they had no place in the world and yet here Natasha is, with her foot in the world, throwing it all away just to numb her feelings.

You never really know what you’ve got until it's too late.

The thought of going through what she had growing up made your skin crawl.

“How long have you been smoking for?” You ask cautiously as you stare at the redhead who lets out a long sigh.

From that sigh alone, you can tell it wasn’t a habit that she had recently picked up. 

“Listen, I didn’t come out to get interrogated about my unhealthy habits, so just drop it, alright?” She defends herself before she extends the neck of the bottle back over to you.

You decline with a shake of your head.

One shot of tequila is enough. You can’t stomach anymore tonight.

“How long have you been smoking, Nat?”

She lets out a defeated sigh. “Not sure. Since I was, like, 14 or 15.”

You would say that you’re surprised to hear that she’s been smoking so young but by the looks of it, smoking has become an unhealthy coping mechanism for the shit life she’s got.

You just wish it wasn’t her that was suffering like this.

“A cigarette is the least of my worries.” She replies with a shrug before closing her eyes to relive the memory.

“They drugged me with all kinds of things in the Red Room so I added to it by stealing a cigarette from a packet in a guard’s pocket. I can still remember getting in trouble now.”

Silence comes from her end as her gaze flickers down to the squashed cigarette on the floor before glancing back up at you, who peacefully analyses her.

She can’t stop.

“And it’s turned into a habit that you now can’t break.”

“Yeah, I guess you could put it that way.” 

“Does smoking and drinking like this at least make you feel better?” You ask curiously but cautiously.

When it comes to Natasha, you have to choose your words carefully.

Natasha doesn’t let her guard down around anyone yet here she was, in a dingy alleyway, letting you see the regret and pain shining in her eyes.

No, it doesn’t.

Your heart aches for her; all the cigarettes and alcohol that she’s taken over the years (outside and inside of you knowing her) haven’t numbed the pain in the way she hoped it would.

It just put her at ease for a certain amount of time.

“Oh, Tasha.” 

She doesn’t say anything else but instead, her gaze flickers away from your eyes (which she always finds herself lost in) and down to your soft-shaped lips.

So kissable. 

She could practically taste the bitterness and sweetness of the alcohol on the tip of her tongue.

At that moment, she knew that she wanted, no, needed to kiss you more than ever. 

Without any hesitation, she takes a step toward you so she can place her hands on your hips (despite still holding onto the bottle) so she can gently tug your back away from the masonry.

Her blurry gaze rests on your lips, memorising the shape and softness of them before she dips her head down slightly.

Her lips were inches away from yours. 

“Nat-”

“-Shut up and let me kiss you.” She growled before pulling you in closer so that her hot breath was fanning against your lips. 

The moment her lips crash against yours, your hands instinctively reach up to comb through her soft red locks.

She tastes like 5 different alcohols and nicotine all in one go; normally you’re not into that but, right now, you crave her. 

You didn’t want her to break the kiss any time soon but she did and instead of moving away from you, she rested her forehead against hers.

The both of you were panting softly.

“Are you addicted to them?” You whisper as your hands drop from her hair and down to cup her rosy cheeks. “The way they make you feel numb or how they make you act?”

Her forehead drops against yours as her head hangs low and the warmth her body was radiating disappears as she takes a step back from you.

A small nod confirms everything you need to know.

She’s addicted.

She stares at you as she extends her arm out so that she can carelessly throw the empty bottle of tequila as far away from her as possible.

Your grip on your shot glass loosens so the shattering noise rippling through the alleyway increases just like the pile of glass shards.

“I–I don’t know how to stop.” 

The alcohol in her system has weakened the walls she put up for her protection to the point where they were trembling.

“You’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”

You take a short step toward her to go back to gently cupping her cheeks in your soft hands.

She leans into your touch as a thick singular tear rolls down her cheek. 

Here she was, standing in front of you, looking vulnerable and broken. And boy, did the people of her past break her.

“I want to stop. I do but I can’t.” She admits in a soft tone as if she is worried about other people hearing her. “I’ve tried so many times.”

The glass shards crunch under your footing as you drop your touch on her cheeks to wrap your arms around her torso.

She instantly wraps her arms around you in return. 

“I promise you, I am going to help you out of this.” You whisper your promise as she buries her head into the crook of your neck.

You’re wearing the perfume that drives her crazy.

It felt as if your promise was empty but the determination flooding through your system tells you that you will not let it be empty.

You are going to help her through this, like it or not.

“Let’s go get some water so we can sober up, yeah?” You whisper as she pulls away to give you a nod of agreement. “You’re stuck with me, now, Nat.”

“There’s no one I would rather be stuck with, detka.” She whispers back as she slips her hand in between yours to squeeze it before following as you both sluggishly walk out of the alleyway.

The alleyway that you stood in, kissed in and where she bit the bullet and admitted defeat. 

The streets remain silent as the two of you stumble down them, hand in hand.

The bitter air no longer bothered you or the exposed skin that you were showing, not when you were wrapped underneath Natasha’s arm. 

“Thank you,” She says, after silence, as you two stumble onto the corner of the street to call a taxi. Thankfully there was one in the distance. “For not judging me and sticking by me. Even in my darkest times.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Natasha.” You reply as a taxi pulls up in front of you. You both climb in and mutter your destination to the driver before you turn back to look at her. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, because I’d do anything for the people that I love. And it’s safe to say that I’m in love with you.”

She smiles softly at your, slightly drunken, confession before bringing your hand up to her lips so she can press a soft kiss on the inside of your wrist and then against your palm. 

“I love you too, detka,” she whispers as she moves her head to catch your lips in for a sweet but short-lived kiss. “More than anything in this world. I love you.”

[tulipfantasies]

Which Marvel characters do you write?

hi, thank you for asking.

i've answered a similar question about which marvel women i write for but overall i am happy to write a lot.

please note though that some characters will be written platnonically (i.e. as sibling or parents). may change in the future.

marvel characters i am happy to write for:

- natasha romanoff

- peter parker (tobey, andrew and tom)

- carol danvers

- loki and/or sylvie

- yelena belova

- kate bishop

- tony stark

- wanda maximoff (sibling, platonic & parent only)

- bucky barnes (sibling & parent only)

- steve rogers (sibling & parent only)

- scott lang

- the avengers (in general)

feel free to ask about any other characters that i may have missed. i'm happy to tell you if i am happy to write about them or not.

[tulipfantasies]

What Marvel women do you write about?

hey, thanks for asking.

i’m open to writing for most of the female characters except those who i do not know enough about because i haven’t watched their film or series (i.e., gamora or maria).

you are very likely to see me writing for natasha and i do plan on writing for yelena, kate and wanda in the near future.

as always, my requests are open so please, don't be shy to ask for other characters that i may not have mentioned on here or to request something.

[tulipfantasies]

love-struck ✩ n.romanoff

pairing; natasha romanoff x fem!avenger!reader

summary; natasha wasn't the type to fall in love easily but in the times she does, she's head over heels. you just happen to be the person she's madly in love with.

characters; wanda maximoff, yelena belova, friday, (mentions) bruce banner, (mentions) helen cho and (mentions) maria hill.

warnings;  fluff, wlw, small angst, swearing, jealous natasha, (mild) violence, badly written injuries (they probably make no sense), mild blood, hurt/comfort (little), no russian used (mentions it) and wanda and yelena being an unlikely (but cool) duo.

my notes;  honestly, i got carried away it's so long. nat is ooc ig. side note, i don't say it enough how much i love her omg. 

word count; 3.9k ao3

Natasha was love-struck when it came to you; there was no way to put it or best represent it.

She wouldn’t openly admit it to yours or anyone's face, of course—never in a million years—but the closed-off and cold Natasha Romanoff firmly believes that she’s finally found someone who makes her feel happy and warm (both happen to be foreign feelings to her).

She’s built up so many walls to protect herself from experiencing any more pain and suffering that she’s forgotten how to let people in without hurting them, but with you, it’s different. 

You waltzed into the Quinjet, ready for the mission ahead, dressed head to toe in your superhero attire with a warm and happy grin painted on your lips. 

At that moment, she could feel those walls crumbling until they were practically rubble.

Sweet, patient, and gentle you, who never stood for her or anyone’s bullshit.

Sweet, patient, and gentle you, who always made sure that she was eating and drinking enough, getting plenty of rest, and that she wasn't badly injured after a rough mission. 

To her, you were the epitome of perfection.

She’s always found immense solace in your presence (with how things go for her, that’s a lot). 

Whenever you were around, she felt the weight of being an Avenger, a deadly assassin, and a role model to little girls worldwide lift straight off her shoulders.

She felt free to be who she wanted and deserved to be when you were around her.

Wanda, being her perceptive and mind-reading best friend, was quick to catch on to her infatuation with you quite early on. 

She’d always pick up on the way Natasha’s thoughts were swimming with ones about you or how her palms grew clammy as she struggled to find the words she wanted to say to you (which made Natasha feel dumb). 

She didn’t need to look any further into Natasha’s mind or use her powers to jump to the one conclusion that was obvious to everyone in the Avengers.

Natasha is in love with you.

Now, with every single chance she gets, she bravely teases Natasha about it with the help of Natasha’s sister, Yelena. 

Morning, noon, and night, Wanda and Yelena are there, making witty remarks that cause her to curse them out in Russian. 

They even give Nat a knowing look before wandering off whenever you two are in the same room; they want to get that much under her skin.

"Are you even listening to me?" Yelena asks as she waves her hand in front of Natasha's face. 

"Hm?" Natasha hums as she breaks her train of thought, which—obviously—consists of you, before turning her attention towards her sister.

Yelena gives her a look as she folds her arms over her chest.

"Don't mind her; she’s busy daydreaming about Y/n again,” Wanda comments with a smirk as she walks into the room the sisters are standing in. 

Yelena smirks back just as Natasha scowls at the witch. “Like she does every day.”

“No, I’m not; shut up, Wanda.” She hisses as she shoots Wanda and Yelena a glare that would’ve put them six feet under if it could. “And you’re not helping, either.”

“Listen, why don’t you just tell her that you are-” Wanda’s question was cut off by her, so in return, she rested her hand on her hip and raised her eyebrow in amusement.

“I’m not in love with her!” She snaps before turning her attention to a text that just came through on her phone. Yes, it was you; of course it was. “Just back off, both of you.”

“Deny it all you want, Nat, but you totally are.” Yelena teases as she subtly holds her hand out in Wanda’s direction for a quick high five.

They both grin mischievously at each other before looking back at Natasha.

“I wasn’t going to say you were in love with her,” Wanda replies with a tone laced with satisfaction, as if she had caught her out, which in a way she did. 

Natasha instantly cleared her throat as she flushed red from embarrassment. “You’re both fucking annoying. Just tell me what you want.”

Wanda chuckles at her response, while Yelena continues to smirk.

Both were finding this all amusing, and what better way than to stir the pot a little with a seemingly foolproof plan?

Both were sick and tired of Natasha pining for you so helplessly, so to give her an extra nudge in the right direction, they decided to make her jealous. 

Wanda is just glad that she walked into the common room just in time to see you giggling and blushing at a shitty joke that Maria had made. 

It gives them something to work with.

"Actually, it's about Y/n," Wanda replies confidently. 

Natasha immediately locks her phone and stuffs it into her pocket to focus properly on what Wanda is saying.

"What happened? Is she okay?" She asks immediately before she glances between her sister and her friend.

“She’s fine, Nat,” Yelena chimes in, knowing what Wanda was doing. “We just wanted to let you know that she's been spending quite some time flirting with Maria lately.”

Both instantly pick up on the way Natasha scowls ever so slightly at the mention of Maria. Maria Hill, her ex-fling, of all people.

“FRIDAY, where is she?” Natasha asks without any hesitation. Just mentioning Maria’s name was all it took for jealousy to seep into Natasha’s system.

“Miss L/n is in the common room with Miss Hill,” FRIDAY replies without a beat. 

To make matters worse, FRIDAY pulled up a hologram recording of you laughing gleefully at something stupid that Maria had said.

That alone pissed Natasha off.

Natasha practically flew down the hallway that leads to the common room without a word; she was that jealous. 

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Yelena asks as she cranes her neck to watch Natasha disappear down the many hallways.

“I’m, like, 80% sure,” Wanda replies with a shrug as she moves the hologram screen that FRIDAY provided to watch the footage closely.

Much to Yelena and Wanda’s chagrin, it did not go entirely to plan. 

Instead of instantly interfering with the conversation that you and Maria were having, Natasha decided that she’d rather admire you from afar and just listen to the way you’d laugh at the story that Maria was in the middle of telling. 

Of course, Natasha was busy thinking of the excuse she wanted to use to intervene and get you away from Maria.

For once in her life, nothing came to her.

She furrowed her eyebrows and grumbled heavy curse words (in Russian) beneath her breath, at Maria, never at you, only to back away from the idea just at the sight of you being so happy. 

She refuses to ruin that happiness, but god, it was fucking pissing her off. It should be her making you happy and laughing like that, not her ex, Maria.

Her! 

She knows the things you love. She knows what jokes would generally make you laugh until your sides hurt from laughing too much. Yet here she is, standing off the side.

With a quiet, exasperated sigh and a light push off of the wall that she was leaning up against, she had decided against acting on her jealousy (even if it was making her see red) and decided to back away quietly. 

By the time she had made the decision, it was too late; you had already spotted her in the corner of your eye. 

“Oh, Natasha!” You exclaimed happily as you turned towards Maria to bid her goodbye while you walked over to Natasha.

Natasha’s lips instantly soften into a half-hearted smile as she desperately tries to hide her jealousy and feelings for you.

Her heart flutters as you come closer until you stand at least 2 inches away. 

“Oh, hey. Y/n.” 

“I thought you had a mission today, Nat.” You point out as you walk down the hallway that leads away from the SHIELD agent you were just talking to.

Natasha follows you as if it were an instinct. 

“Nah, just a debriefing.” She replies calmly.

“Oh? What was the mission?”

“Just some intel retrieval,” Natasha answers as she glances at you. “Nothing important, a quick in and out job.”

You raise your brow in response to her words before smiling warmly at the Avengers you both pass by. You have no clue where you two were headed.

“An easy job for you, then.”

Natasha didn't say anything; she was too busy admiring you from the side. She was too busy beating herself up over the fact that she couldn't intervene in what was happening between you and Maria.

It took several more weeks (the verge of several months) of watching you with heart-shaped eyes before Natasha was placed in a situation where she let it slip about her feelings for you. 

God, were Yelena and Wanda glad she finally worked up the courage.

It was her turn, this time around, to give the mission briefings, so, with little hesitancy, she had pulled you and Wanda into the briefing room to put you on a mission that best suited your skillset.

It was her turn to ignore the aching feeling.

“Hiya, Nat.” You chirped as you swung the door open to walk over toward the table with Wanda behind you.

“Y/n, Wanda,” She greets the both of you calmly before she drops two files in front of you, urging you both to read them.

“There’s a new HYDRA base that has come to our attention; they’re keeping certain individuals captive and have intel that could be fatal in the wrong hands. It should be a simple mission, but I wouldn’t count much on it.”

Across from the table, Wanda shoots her the same knowing look and smirk she always gives her when you are in the room before glancing back down at her file. 

You’ve picked up on the glances and smirks a few times but have never questioned it; for all you know, it could be an inside joke. 

“Mhm, when do we leave?” You ask after flicking through the file and glancing over at the redhead.

“In the next hour. Get ready.”

You push the file down the table in Natasha’s direction before pushing your chair out so you can stand up and salute her teasingly (just like you do when it’s Steve doing the briefing). 

She gives you an amused look while she fights the urge to smile at your actions.

“How long of a mission are we looking at, Nat?” Wanda asks as she finally glances up from her file and pushes her chair out so she can stand too. 

“However long it takes, you are looking at a couple of weeks at the most.” 

You barely spoke a word as you brushed past Natasha on your way to the door so that you could get suited up for this mission.

Words or not, you still had Nat’s gaze burning a hole into your back as she watched you disappear.

“Oh, what have you done?” Wanda asks in amusement as she watches Nat watch you. “You’ve just put me on a mission that could last for a while with the girl you are madly in love with.”

“Oh, piss off, Maximoff,” Natasha snaps as she breaks her trance to glare at the witch. “You are just as bad as Lena.”

And, as if she had summoned her, Yelena comes strolling into the briefing room with a smirk curled onto her face and her phone held up high with a text saying ‘Mission briefing, meet in the briefing room’ from an unknown number (which was just Wanda).

“Listen, I’ll tell you this as nicely as a friend could, but you are so blatantly in love with her, it’s fucking irritating,” Wanda says just as Yelena walks over to a file on the table to pluck up and read it. 

It’s an easy mission for you two, honestly.

Natasha scoffs loudly and bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from yelling or swearing even more in Russian. “I am not in love with her!”

Even Yelena gives Natasha a look that tells her that neither of them is buying a single word she is saying.

She lets out an exaggerated sigh before reaching up to pinch the skin on the bridge of her nose with her index finger and thumb. 

"Fine, I am madly in love with her; is that what you two wanted to hear?" 

“Ha! Took you long enough,” Yelena replies triumphantly before turning to Wanda with a knowing look. “Keep an eye on Y/n/n during the mission. I’ll keep an eye on Ms Grumpy over here.”

Natasha couldn’t decide who she wanted to kill more. Wanda, for somehow bringing Yelena into this all, or Yelena, for making shit worse.

Both, but slowly and at a different time.

“Now move your ass, Maximoff,” Natasha snaps as she makes her way over to the door. “Oh, and you, stay out of this, you little shit stirrer.” She snaps at Yelena, causing her to shrug her shoulders and place the file down. 

Just like she had stated it would be, the mission started fairly simple and smooth, until it went completely wrong. 

You and Wanda worked like clockwork; Wanda was busy guiding the hostages away to safety while you roamed the hallways in search of the intel that you’d need to retrieve. 

At this point, you are both used to HYDRA’s attempt to hold people hostage while they steal information; this isn’t anything new. 

“You know she’s madly in love with you, right?” Wanda comments as you both search around the base for any remaining hostages or new little experiments of theirs (which was important given that you are both HYDRA experiments) before you flee the place.

“Who is? The one in charge?” You asked teasingly, which only caused a groan matched with an eye roll from Wanda. 

You both know who she is in this situation.

“Oh, I know she is.” You add on before Wanda can get a word in, just as you back up to kick a door open.

The door immediately splinters as you scope the room with your and Wanda’s powers at hand.

“You know?” Wanda repeats as her mouth drops open in shock before she closes it to glare at you as she follows closely behind with her powers ready.

“Why the hell haven’t you done anything about it? Do you know how fucking irritating it is to see her swoon over you?"

“I want to see how long it takes her to confess.” You reply to her questions as you move around the base cautiously. You were both prepared for someone to pop up.

“This is Natasha we are talking about,” Wanda reminds you bluntly. “That would be the last thing that she’d fucking admit.”

Now that you think about it, waiting for her to admit that she is in love with you does seem like a dumb idea, but you’ve gone this far, so why not wait a little longer?

Unfortunately for you, all this talk about the (sort of) situationship between you and Natasha worked well as an unintentional distraction from the mission ahead of you two.

One that didn't work out so well for you (at the time). 

It all happened in one big blur. 

One minute you were scoping the hallways and the rooms for any hostages or agents you’d missed while loudly discussing with Wanda that Natasha’s crush on you was so obvious that even you knew about it. 

The next, you were shot not once, not twice, but thrice: once through the shoulder, the other through your thigh, and the last through your abdomen. 

The second she heard the gunshots and watched you slowly collapse to the ground with blood trickling through your suit, Wanda immediately turned around on her heels and threw the agent straight through the nearest wall. 

Several times.

“FRIDAY,” Wanda immediately says to the AI connected to the comms at all times. “Alert Helen and Bruce that Y/n has been shot. Let Natasha know too.”

“Yes, Miss Maximoff.”

Natasha has never moved so fast in her life. 

The second FRIDAY had alerted her about what had happened to you on the mission, and she practically flew out of her room and towards the hangar bay with the full intention of ripping whoever had hurt you to shreds (if she had found a way to get to you). 

Instead, with no jet around and already in use, she had to stand in the hangar bay, waiting for the Quinjet to touchdown. 

“Hey, I heard what happened,” Yelena calls out as she appears behind her sister with a look of concern. In all her life, she’d never seen Natasha this way before. “Are you okay?”

Natasha immediately brushed off Yelena’s question and balled her hands into a tight fist. “Where the fuck is the Quinjet? Why is it taking so long?”

“Calm down, Nat; she’ll be okay,” Yelena says reassuringly as Nat begins muttering under her breath in, you guessed it, Russian.

She only does that when she is really nervous, frustrated, or angry.

A few moments later, the Quinjet landed several feet from Natasha and Yelena. Natasha didn’t even wait for you or Wanda to emerge before she entered the jet with only you on her mind.

Just the sight of you barely holding it together and being in so much paint as your ruby blood trickled down your suit where the bullets had penetrated made her pause for a moment and stare at you. 

It was nothing she hadn’t seen before; she’d seen worse, but she hated seeing you hurt.

With ease and gentleness, she wraps her arm around your torso to gently lift you off the seat that you were bleeding out on before she lifts your uninjured arm over her shoulder to better support you. 

She ignores the worried calls from Wanda and Yelena as she exits the jet and goes through the hangar bay.

The only thing she was focusing on was your grunts of pain. 

Without speaking any words between you, Natasha carefully—yet swiftly—guides the two of you to the Medbay, where a professional can properly tend to your gaping wounds.

She felt like time was ticking.

It wasn’t in your plan to get injured like this; you could’ve done without it, but with the way she is currently acting towards you, it seemed to be an effective one.

Natasha helped you onto the nearest free bed, where Bruce and Helen instantly moved towards you.

She stepped back with a shaky exhale before wandering out to be met by Wanda and Yelena.

“What the hell happened?” She turns to Wanda and shoots her a furious look, crossing her face.

Wanda stood tall, acting as if Natasha’s anger didn’t faze her, which it didn’t. “We were searching for any more hostages or their little experiments, and an agent shot her twice. You’d be glad to know that I took the liberty of tearing him to shreds for you.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Nat replies sarcastically as she rolls her eyes.

“Listen, Nat, she’s going to be fine. Bruce and Helen are in there tending to her now.”

Natasha turns to her sister and frowns in thought. It took around an hour before the door behind them opened as Helen walked out with, by the looks of it, good news.

They had done their job, and now Nat was allowed to see you, so she did. 

“Hey,” Natasha whispers as she approaches your bed a few minutes later. She sits next to your bed and takes your hand between hers. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Gee, no, ‘thanks, Y/n, for completing the mission and getting all those people and intel out’?” You croak out from all of the pain medication that they had you high off of.

“Thank you, Y/n,” she replies in a far softer tone. “But, seriously, what were you thinking? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, Nat.” You quietly say as you squeeze her hand tightly. You let out a quiet hiss at your sudden movement before giving her a small smile. “Plus, you are making out like I was looking to be shot twice.” 

“You could’ve bled out and died.” She frets as she squeezes your hand back even tighter. “And then what? I’d be without you.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words; the feeling that this is the moment she’s going to admit her feelings for you settle into your gut, causing you to smile softly.

“It doesn’t matter; we finished the mission. We got all those hostages out and the intel from the hands of HYDRA, so who cares that I got hurt in the process?” 

“Me! I care that you got hurt.” She blurts out as she leans over to gently brush your hair from your face. “I don’t give a shit about the mission.”

“That’s a first.” You comment and let out another hiss through your teeth, as the slightest movement causes a burning sensation to flood your shoulder and thigh.

“Don’t joke about something serious like this.” She replies in a quiet but stern tone before sighing.

“Okay, jeez.”

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if Helen came out and told me that you just bled out and that there was nothing they could do,” she admits as she continues to brush your hair out of your face. “Because then I wouldn’t have been able to tell you how I feel about you.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, knowing full well what she means. 

“I mean, I am so fucking in love with you that I can’t live without you,” she admits as she begins to drop her hand down to cup your cheek and gently caress it with the pad of her thumb.

“Really?” You ask with a grin as you place your hand over hers, which is cupping your cheek. “You can’t live without me?”

She hums as her gaze locks with yours for a minute or two. You are the one person she can’t live without.

Before you knew it, she was leaning over your bed to the point where your lips were inches away.

Her breath was hot against your lips as her eyes searched yours for confirmation that she could kiss you. 

When your gaze granted it, her lips slowly connected with yours for a sweet and desperate kiss—the one that you both desperately wanted.

“I love you so much, Y/n.” She whispers as she pulls her lips away from yours very slowly.

“I love you too, Natasha.” You whisper as she moves back to sitting down with your hand (which was still entwined with Natasha’s) now resting on her lap.

“Fucking finally!” a voice exclaimed loudly and excitedly from the doorway of the infirmary. Yelena. 

A second later, Wanda and Yelena walk over towards your bed with matching shit-eating grins on their faces.

“Took you long enough to admit it, Nat.” Wanda chuckles as both she and Yelena sit at the foot of your bed, careful not to hurt you further. 

“We’re glad you’ve finally told her about your feelings. We are also glad that you’re okay, Y/n.”

“Yeah,” Natasha hums as she turns away from the matchmaking duo and towards you so she can gaze lovingly at you. The smile you’re flashing her makes her stomach flip and her knees buckle. 

“So am I.”

[tulipfantasies]

late night baking ✩ g.stacy

pairing; gwen stacy x gn!reader (written with fem! in mind)

summary; late night at a sleepover turns into a late night baking and dancing session

characters; (mentions) your parents

warnings;  fluff (bc that's what she deserves) and (kinda) slow dancing. 

my notes;  her and miles needs to have a hug each. everyone say thank u to gwen for curing my writers block /j. (link to actual recipe used - xx). like to remind you that I was 17 when writing this.

word count; 2.5k ao3

It was late at night, like 2 am late, when you and Gwen were standing in the middle of the kitchen.

You were both glancing over a promising brownie recipe from a random website that you had pulled up on your laptop about 20 minutes ago. 

Gwen remained silent as she rested her chin on the top of your head while you rested your chin on your forearms (which were resting on the clean countertop).

Your eyes scanned over the method meticulously, trying to figure out where you two should start first. 

Thankfully, you had the right amount of ingredients lying around from your previous bake. 

"So, what do we do first?" Gwen asks as she lifts her chin off of your head so that you can stand up straight to preheat the oven.

Gwen had come over to stay at yours for the weekend to keep you company (or at least up until your parents came back from their trip).

She's been hanging around at your place since school finished on Friday; thankfully, her dad didn't seem to mind her staying here with you for a few days. 

You two had made the joint decision to do something other than watch repeat episodes of a TV show when 1:30 am ticked by on the clock.

You weren't sure what you were going to bake, but all you knew was that anything at this point was better than watching TV.

Now, the two of you were standing in the kitchen, enjoying each other's company as you prepared to bake brownies.

You and Gwen were bathed in the low and warm light that was being emitted from the kitchen and the blue light being emitted from your laptop.

The warm glow accentuates the beautiful and warm smile that Gwen always wore—the one that made your heart melt.

"It says here that we melt the butter," You reply as you unwrap the block of unsalted butter, with the occasional glance back at the recipe. "Oh, and the broken-up dark chocolate."

Your fingers curl around the curved edges of the glass bowl to pull it closer to you so that you can dump the butter and cooking chocolate in.

Both of these had been measured to the recipe's requirements, so all you had to do was pick it up and move around Gwen to put it in the microwave. 

1 minute on the timer. 

Aside from the microwave making a noise as it melted the contents, it was silent in the kitchen between the two of you.

It's never normally this quiet between the two of you, but you just blamed that on both of you being overtired. 

"It's way too quiet in here," Gwen grumbles quietly as the microwave pings. 

She takes this as her cue to lean over your laptop and spend the next few minutes scrolling through your plethora of playlists until she comes across one filled with songs that you both know and like.

She grins to herself before pressing the volume button on the top right corner a few times.

At max volume, one of Lana Del Rey's many songs begins playing.

The soothing melody encompasses the kitchen; in an instant, the quiet atmosphere that settled between you two shifted into a far more lively one.

Completely lost in the moment, the two of you begin to dance along to the beat of the music, both of you momentarily forgetting about being overtired from staying up too long.

You grin as a burst of energy washes over you before humming along to the tune as you pull the glass bowl out of the microwave and set it down on the countertop to let the mixture cool down.

On the other side of the kitchen, Gwen was busy weighing out the sugar while carefully grabbing three eggs from the carton.

You move to click the metal whisks into place on the hand mixer as she does so before plugging it in and sliding it over to her.

She smiles in return before picking it up and lowering it into the unmixed egg and sugar.

"Love the song choice, Gwen." You comment as you move to read some more of the recipe.

"Mhm, you would; it's your playlist." She fires back teasingly. 

She flicks the switch on the hand mixture to mix the eggs and sugar for a few minutes before turning the whisk off and placing it down.

Gwen slowly creeps up behind you, shooting you that warm smile from behind, before she slowly snakes her arm around your waist while moving her free hand to gently pinch your hip with a breathy chuckle.

You yelp out in surprise before biting the inside of your cheek and letting out a chuckle as a reply.

You and Gwen have been best friends since before you could even remember (a little before Peter joined you two), so it wasn't uncommon for you two to do stuff along these lines.

Best friends, that's all you were.

So if you were just friends, then... why was your heart skipping a beat every time she got close to you or touched you? Why did your mouth run dry and your palms grow clammy when she was around? 

Something tells you that these are not the normal feelings that best friends should be feeling for one another, and– 

"Hello? Earth to Y/n!" Gwen’s voice echos and comes into focus as she waves her hand in front of your face.

She was holding the bowl of the now-mixed sugar and eggs in front of you; she wore a look of uncertainty. “Does this look alright to you?”

“Oh, yeah, it does.”

With her question luring you out of your spiralling trail of thoughts, the two of you soon began working together like clockwork.

The two of you, halfway through, had swapped roles, meaning that Gwen was now back to weighing out the rest of the dry ingredients on the weighing scale while you took over the whisking and carefully folded the butter and chocolate mixture into the pale mousse-like one.

The more time that passed, you could feel yourself waking up and simultaneously relaxing as the two of you continued to whizz around the kitchen.

You continued to hum along to the different songs as they bleed into one after another while glancing several times over at the recipe to see where next.

"Are you alright, Y/n/n?" Gwen asks while she weighs out the cocoa powder but she stops for a minute to glance over at you with a raised brow. “You seem quieter than usual; is something up?”

You were busy folding the two different mixtures into one big one when her questions struck.

The butterflies in your stomach became more prominent as you unravelled the chocolate bars from their wrappers and began chopping them up into chunks with a knife.

"Hm?" You hum as you glance over at Gwen while thinking of the words you want to reply with. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine; I'm just tired and lost in my thoughts, I guess.”

Was it far from the truth? Slightly. 

In all honesty, you are starting to believe that you've developed feelings for Gwen that go beyond how friends should feel. Everything about her captivated you.

From the way she flashes you that sweet smile (the one that shows off the gap in her front teeth) right down to the way she so passionately dedicates her life and free time to saving New York. 

Gwen didn't seem too convinced, but she shrugged anyway. "Alright, if you say so." She replies as she tips the dry ingredients, one by one, into your now-folded mixture. 

Gwen's luck runs out there and then, though.

Forgetting that her personal strength has increased since being bitten, Gwen goes to gently open the bag of flour, only to rip the bag in half.

The flour mingles with the air and covers every surface in the kitchen (but not the actual mixture) in a thick white cloud.

Thankfully, it looks like there is enough left for the actual mixture.

“Oh crap!” She exclaims in shock as she notices that you are covered head to toe with the soft flour.

You freeze up for a good minute or two as your mind catches up with what has just happened.

Your hands reach up to swipe away the flour that coats your face so you can open your eyes again; when you do, you are immediately met with her blue eyes staring at you. 

Gwen immediately bites down on her bottom lip to suppress the urge to burst into laughter, and when you let out a loud and cheerful laugh—the type that hurts your sides so much—she lifts her teeth out of her bottom lip and immediately joins in.

Her laughter was infectious.

Just the sound of her laughter echoing in your ears brought a sense of warmth and happiness that lingered long after the flour had settled.

You had to physically stop yourself from laughing anymore just to get your words out.

“You’re lucky we still have enough flour.” You reply jokingly, still quietly giggling, as you begin tousling your hair to get the remaining bits of flour out of it.

“I’ll get the broom,” Gwen mutters after her own laughter died down.

She disappears out of the kitchen to slowly make her way through your apartment in search of the broom.

She returns to the kitchen five minutes later with the broom in hand.

And just as quickly, she begins to slowly drag the broom across the light mess while you continue to titter to yourself.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” She mumbles as she rests the broom against the nearest wall and rubs the back of her neck out of embarrassment.

“Don't stress about it, honey. Accidents happen.” 

 "You got to admit... it was kind of funny though," Gwen adds with a small smirk.

 "Mhm, for you." You add on with a chuckle. "I'm the one that looks like I've just put my head through a cloud."

Gwen snickers at your comment while she makes a move to tip the mixture into the lined baking tray that is resting on the counter. 

The music continued to flow effortlessly, with the occasional change into a different song as you picked up the tray of brownie batter and made your way over to the oven.

You set a timer on your phone a minute after you push the oven door closed. 

You stood in the middle of the kitchen, not sure whether or not you should get started on cleaning up when Gwen's arm began to slowly snake around your waist.

She rests her chin on your right shoulder as she begins to softly hum along to the song that is playing, which only makes your heart simultaneously leap out of your chest and melt. 

Your cheeks were flushed a deep red as you blushed profusely.

"Dance with me, Y/N/N," Gwen whispered in your ear, her warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

You agreed very quickly.

With just your luck, the music runs into one with a slightly slower tempo.

Very gently, she turns you around so you are face-to-face with her before she begins to sway her hips.

With a small tug on your waist, you soon found yourself following her actions, so you are now both swaying together in the middle of the kitchen.

It felt quite intimate. 

Gwen's grip around your waist tightens ever so slightly, pulling you closer to her as you both move in sync.

You can feel the warmth of her body against yours, and a wave of comfort washes over you. 

This is not what best friends do. 

You were not expecting her to slip her hand into yours and spin you outward, away from her, before pulling you back in.

You welcomed it, though, with a loud shriek of laughter as she continued to pull you along the kitchen floor in tune with the tempo of the song.

Gwen's eyes meet yours, and a subtle smile forms on her lips. "Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm, you can ask me anything," You reply as the two of you continue to innocently dance.

"Are you in love with me?"

Oh, crap! Oh, crap! 

"Uh, um, what makes you say that?" 

Gwen raises her eyebrow as you stutter out your response to her question, which definitely caught you off guard.

Her subtle smile turns into a smirk of amusement.

"First off, friends don't dance in the way we currently are." 

At least she agrees.

You hate the fact that a simple question has reduced you to a stammering mess; it makes you feel small. 

"We're, uh, just dancing, Gwen," You add on as she continues to dance along with you. "That doesn't mean I love you. I mean, I do love you, but, uh, as a friend."

"Mm, if this is just us 'dancing' then why are you blushing?" She asks in amusement.

Gwen already knows about your crush on her; she has known about it for a good while now.

It was safe to say that she definitely felt the same way.  

Did Gwen use staying over yours and baking together as an excuse to get close to you and hopefully get you to admit your feelings for one another? 100%. Did it work the way she wanted it to? Oh, yeah.

"I think you love me," Gwen adds with a teasing tone.

"No, no, no, I do not love you, not at all. You are my bes-"

"Just shut up and kiss me already," Gwen chimed in impatiently.

"Yeah, alright, I'll shut up." You murmured in agreement before snaking your arms around her neck.

With your arms around her neck, she dips her head slightly so that your lips are hovering over each other and your warm breaths are mingling.

Gwen's lips curl up into a small smile before she closes the tiny distance between the two of you. 

Her hands cup your cheeks as your hands rest on the nape of her neck.

Your sweet kiss lasts for a few more seconds before the both of you are pulled away by the sound of your phone's timer going off.

"You know I love you, right?" Gwen says as you carefully take the tin out of the oven and leave it to cool down. "I'm always going to love you."

"Did-" Pause. "Did you just quote La La Land?" You ask with a raised brow as she pulls you back towards her.

She rests her forehead against yours and gives you a gappy grin.

"Maybe." She replies with a chuckle, making you smile brightly.

"Well then, I'm always going to love you, too."

You both continued to dance across the kitchen floor (to more upbeat songs) until the sun peaked up across the horizon and painted the sky with bursts of pinks, oranges, and yellows.

Or until the birds chirped their morning songs.

[tulipfantasies]

Heavenly garden view in Wales, United Kingdom ~ koeklilian

[tulipfantasies]

the urge to go on a rant about how gwen shouldn't have forgiven her father as easily as she did in the film is strong.

that girl deserves better. she's 16 for god sake. a child that was held at gunpoint by her own father. i would've never forgiven mine if he did that to me.

(tasm!george would never do that to tasm!gwen)

...

feel free to leave your opinions down below if you do have some, i'd love to read them

(does anyone wanna be friends?? i need friends.)

[tulipfantasies]

Hello!! I love your Gwen x fem readers! I was wondering if you could do one where Gwen is comforting a stressed out overworked female reader. I’ve been struggling so bad with college and it’s not the vibe 😭 I swear I’ve cried like 10 times this past week. Thank you🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

hi yes ofc i can! i hope things get better for you with college.

stress relief ✩ g.stacy

pairing; gwen stacy x fem!reader

summary; you were riddled with stress so gwen takes it upon herself to help you destress and relax.

characters; (mentions) a lecturer/professor.

warnings; fluff for my girl, established relationship, (mentions) overworking and r procrastinated (relatable), gwen plays with r’s hair and no usage of y/n.

my notes; thank you for requesting (it's my first one hehe), i hope you liked it. the layout/pictures are messing around and it's pissing me off, sorry 'bout that.

word count; 1.8k ao3

You felt as if you were suffocating with the never-ending amount of stress you were under.

It was exam season, and like any person practically wanting to fail their course, you had chosen to procrastinate and actively avoid the idea of knuckling down and studying for it.

A stupid idea.

So in a mad dash to absorb any information you possibly could, you gather any handouts they have given you, your class notebook, and a crap ton of stationery.

Your desk, which looked as if a bomb had gone off on it, was littered with coloured pens, highlighters, and many unorganised papers.

5 hours and 3 cups of coffee later, you were sitting at your desk with your head in your hands as your eyes frantically glanced over the neon pink highlighted paragraph.

You found yourself re-reading the paragraph over and over again for what felt like the umpteenth time in one hour.

None of the words on the pages made sense, no matter what colour they were highlighted in.

You immediately drop your head from your hands and let it rest on your desk with a small thud, following it with a loud groan of frustration.

The papers you rested your head on clung to your forehead briefly before dropping lightly back onto the desk.

"How many cups of coffee have you drunk so far?" Her voice breaks the forced silence, causing you to jolt ever so slightly in surprise.

You didn’t even need to look to know who the voice belonged to; it was Gwen, your girlfriend.

"I don’t know, maybe 2 or 3?" you mumble as you lift your head off the desk so you can rest your chin on your folded-up arms.

You could see Gwen shaking her head in disappointment in your peripheral view.

In your stressed state, you let it slip from your mind that you and Gwen had previously made plans to hang out with each other.

You didn’t make massive plans, but you both agreed on watching several movies with a crap ton of snacks to choose from.

Movie night with Gwen sounded like the one thing you needed most right now, but you can’t let yourself push it back more.

Gwen sighs and pushes herself off of your door frame so she can step further into your bedroom.

She plops down on your bed and silently watches, with a frown curling onto her lips, as you dive back into studying.

"You are going to make yourself ill with all this coffee and stress," She comments quietly as she folds her arms over her chest.

She wasn’t disappointed; she was worried.

"Gee, thanks, Captain Obvious, for that observation," You unintentionally snap back at her with a roll of your eyes.

Stress mixed with a lot of caffeine can make you agitated and prone to snapping. Gwen knows this. "I would’ve never figured it out on my own."

Her obvious comments didn’t help your stress much, and neither did your side job, which was writing news articles for The Daily Bugle, which was constantly adding and changing your shifts, forcing you to work unreasonable hours.

You were studying for a journalism degree, and yet you would’ve never thought you’d be writing all those ‘Spider-Menace’ articles about Spider-Woman.

You sigh heavily as you think over your poor choice of words before letting the regret immediately begin battling with your stressed emotions.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m not thinking straight.”

"It’s okay, babe," Gwen replies calmly as she begins making her way over to where you are sitting.

She slowly snakes her arms around your shoulders and rests her chin on top of your head. "You are under a lot of stress, and on your third, no doubt fourth, cup of coffee, you were bound to snap."

Being used to the comfort of her touch, you immediately melt beneath her embrace and silently thank every star that glistens in the inky black sky that you have someone like Gwen in moments like these.

A shoulder to lean on when things get rough. "Tell me all about it, honey." She adds on in a quiet tone.

Those words were all that was needed for the floodgates to open and the unstoppable rambling to begin.

You told her every little detail, right down from the journalism exam you have to cram all the studying into how much of an awful man J. Jonah Jameson is for making you write horrible things about Spider-Woman (all Spider-Woman was doing was bringing safety to New York).

You didn’t want to work there for much longer, but you loved writing columns for newspapers, so you were torn.

Throughout your rambling, which ultimately lifts a weight off of your shoulders, Gwen’s fingers work on moving strands of your hair from out of your face and behind your ears, her hands pulling it up into a loose ponytail so it is well out of your face a second later.

She leans down to place a soft and sweet kiss on your cheek before placing her hands on the back of your chair and swivelling it around so you are now facing her.

"You need to take a break, babe," She says calmly, though it sounds like she is demanding it.

She slips her hands in between yours and gently pulls you out of your chair and onto your feet.

"Ms Wright won’t be happy if she finds out that I’m not studying enough for the exam, Gwen," You mumbled tiredly as you gently squeezed her hands, which she reciprocated immediately.

"I can’t take a break; I need to study for my exam."

"What Ms Wright doesn’t know certainly won’t hurt her," she replies as she begins to very slowly walk backwards in the direction of your bed, dragging you along with her.

"You need to take a break before you make yourself worse."

You let out a sigh, both in frustration and relief, before nodding your head and dropping your hands from hers so that you can climb on top of your mattress and comforter.

Gwen follows your actions, but this time she has your laptop tucked underneath her arms and shifts to place the laptop on the mattress in front of you.

She lets you sign into the laptop and pull up the search engine before nudging the laptop back in her direction so she can scroll through Netflix for a film that you can both watch.

After several minutes of disagreeing on what type of film you want to watch, you both agree, and soon the opening credits of the film are rolling.

You let your heavy head gently drop onto her shoulder before sighing lightly and nuzzling in closer to her.

Without giving it any thought, Gwen wraps her arms around you as her eyes remain on the laptop as she watches the film, which has not yet started.

"How much sleep have you gotten?" She whispers above the dialogue of the character on the screen.

"Few hours max." You reply quietly.

Now that it was brought up, your eyelids were feeling very heavy, as if something was weighing them down to the point where they were almost drooping closed.

"How on earth you are still standing is beyond me," Gwen mumbles over the dialogue before letting her hand drop into your hair so it can comb through very slowly, despite the fact it was in a loose ponytail.

Your eyes flutter shut in relaxation as her hands brush past each small knot and tangle in your hair.

"Not fair," you whine softly at her touch on your head. It was so relaxing and loving. "You know I like it when you play with my hair. You are trying to get me to fall asleep."

Gwen chuckles at your soft whine before smirking to herself. "It’s working, isn’t it?"

"Yeah, it is," you mumble tiredly as you let your eyes flutter closed from exhaustion.

At this point, the movie served as background noise for your quiet conversation.

Thankfully, you’ve both watched it before, so you weren’t missing out on much.

A tidal wave of comfort and warmth washes over you as she continues to brush her hand through your hair.

She is lulling you to sleep.

"You know, I have every faith in you, honey," she whispers as she places a soft kiss on the top of your head, which causes you to smile softly. "You are going to pass your exam with flying colours."

"Yeah, you think so?" You whisper back as you very briefly lift your head off of her shoulder to look at her.

She smiles warmly down at you and nods firmly.

You lower your head back down onto her shoulder and let her words settle in.

"I know so, babe," she says, shrugging her shoulders, which makes you chuckle tiredly at the sudden movement of her shoulders.

She leaned down so her hot breath was brushing onto your skin and that her lips were ghosting yours. "You’re too smart and unbelievably gorgeous not to."

"Shut up, you dork." You blush at her words before reaching up to gently and playfully push her face away from yours, making her chuckle.

"I’m your dork," she murmurs before lightly pressing her lips against yours.

Her hands continued to brush through your hair, ultimately messing it up so it was back in front of your eyes. "Now, try and get some sleep, alright?

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Your eyelids were too heavy to disagree with her, so after fighting back the urge, your eyes soon slipped closed, and your breathing went shallow and steady.

An indication that you had fallen asleep on Gwen’s shoulder (which she’d never complain about).

You had finally let yourself relax after stressing yourself over studying for your exam, and Gwen couldn’t be happier knowing that her attempts to relax you worked in an instant.

Knowing that she couldn’t do much more with you laying your head on her shoulder, Gwen decided to join you in sleeping.

She slowly leans forward and logs out of your laptop.

She pushes your laptop away from the two of you before wrapping both of her arms around you and slowly shifting so the both of you are now lying on your backs with your heads on the pillows.

Her head slowly drops so it is resting on yours before she lets herself fall asleep.

Together in each other's arms, where it was safe.

You passed your exam with flying colours (just like Gwen said) and even received the highest mark out of the class.

Gwen was ecstatic when you told her that you passed, so much so that she practically suffocated you with the hug she gave you.

And as for The Daily Bugle, you quit the second you got a chance and went into a far better job that paid far more and got you writing much better columns for their papers.

Every single day, you find yourself thanking every star that glistens in the inky black sky that you have someone like Gwen.

She’s your rock and the one you love the most; you’d be lost without her love and support.

[tulipfantasies]

wounds don't heal overnight ✩ b.barnes

pairing; dad!bucky barnes x daughter!reader

summary; after returning home from a particularly hard mission, your father takes it upon to patch you up.

characters; uncle!steve rogers and alpine

warnings; blood, injuries and swearing.

my notes; original on @1-800-romanoff. i don't see enough of parent!bucky (at least as far as i am aware)

word count; 2.0k ao3

Wounds. Every Avenger who has set foot on the battlefield returns home riddled with them.

Some end up with severe and (on occasion) life-threatening injuries, while others return home with scratches and bruises.

Seeing injuries and seeing someone bleed out no longer holds the same fear and anxiety for the Avengers as it would for a normal person.

Travelling back to the compound took longer than originally anticipated, much to everyone's dismay.

You took the worst hit; your bleeding abdomen and bloody nose were visual proof that easily backed up the statement.

Applying as much pressure as you can, you wince at the amount of blood that has begun seeping through your suit.

"Hang on, Y/n/n. We are almost there." The voice came across as a reassuring muffle as you zoned in and out of your thoughts, each time wincing at the pain you felt.

But even as a muffle, you knew exactly who it belonged to. Your 'uncle'.

The second the Quinjet touched down in the hangar bay, you felt his arm wrap around your shoulder.

Normally, you'd protest against the idea of being held up by someone else (you'd like to think you were capable of walking on your own), but your injuries left you in such a bad state that the only thing you could do was lean into his touch and screw your eyes shut as the pain continued to shoot through your body.

"Alpine? Dad?" You hoarsely called out the second you were dragged into the empty hangar bay.

You hoped that your voice came out loud enough for your cat and dad to hear you and walk right up to you and your uncle.

Almost immediately, your dad makes his way over to where you two stood, the little white cat prancing happily underneath every heavy footstep he takes.

"Holy shit!" Bucky's eyes widened in shock as he reached forward to gently pull you out of Steve's grasp (which loosened the second Bucky came into view) and into his own. "What the fuck did you do out there, Y/n/n?"

Ever since you were a young girl, your dad, the 'cold-hearted' Winter Soldier, despised seeing you in any form of pain.

Everyone knows that seeing you in such a bad state was like torture to him.

So being greeted by Steve holding you up as your left arm was wrapped protectively over your abdomen (which was oozing with blood) and a blood-soaked tissue pressed up against your broken nose to prevent blood loss was killing him on the inside.

"It's just a scratch." You tease, trying to make light of the situation. Instead of laughing, your father gave you a look that pulled a sheepish smile onto your lips.

Not a second later, Alpine curls around your leg and flicks her tail to sit down at your feet.

"Hi, Piney." You whisper down at the cat with a small, painful smile.

"A fucking big one." He grumbles as he slowly begins leading you in the direction of the hangar bay's exit.

"Come on, Alpine," Bucky calls over his shoulder as he begins dragging you over to the compound's infirmary, where you could get your injuries assessed.

The infirmary is one of the biggest facilities in the compound, and yet, apart from Bruce, who was busy cleaning someone else's minor wound, it was like a ghost town.

Rows and rows of hospital beds, the stench of disinfectant, and fluorescent lights greet you as your father drags you further and further into the infirmary.

The only other sound that could be heard over the footsteps belonging to you and your dad and the murmurs of Bruce was the sound of small paws running after you.

"Sit your ass down!" Your dad ordered harshly, but you knew he was concerned, making you nod and follow his order to sit down on the bed.

Bucky makes a beeline for some medical equipment; from your space on the bed, you could hear him dismiss Bruce's attempts to look at your seeping wounds (he claims that he's 'able to patch his own daughter's wounds up, thank you').

Lost in the pain that was searing through your abdomen and nose, you barely acknowledge a small head that nudges your free hand.

Absentmindedly, your fingertips reach behind her ears to give them a gentle scratch.

"Hiya, Alpine. Did you keep Dad sane while I was away?" You ask softly as if the cat would suddenly start speaking.

Seconds later, Bucky returns to the bed that you and the cat were sitting on with a first aid kit and extra gauze in his metal hand.

He places the equipment on the bed before reaching forward to gently pry your arm away from your abdomen, causing you to wince and hiss as the cold air hits it.

His eyes widened in shock at how large your wound was. "Holy shit, why the hell didn't you tell me? You could've passed out!"

"I was applying pressure to it, just like you and Uncle Stevie taught me to do," you reply, causing your father to shake his head in disappointment.

"And in that space of time, you could've passed out from too much blood loss," Bucky replies, continuing to shake his head and fumble with the first aid kit.

"Please tell me you know how to stitch up a wound," you beg softly.

"Doll, you know being in the war came with the ability to stitch up a wound," Bucky replies as he slowly begins to dab a wet cloth over your abdomen.

You hissed loudly at the coolness of the cloth and at the fact that he didn't have a full idea of what he was doing.

"Of course," you wince at the pain, "how could I forget that you and Uncle Steve were in the war?" You asked, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

"Watch that tone, young lady," Bucky warns with a small smile tugging on his lips as your fingertips continue to scratch behind Alpine's ears.

"This is going to hurt, doll."

You immediately bite down on your bottom lip before nodding as a way to prepare yourself for the pain.

"You're going to give me and your uncle a heart attack one day with the number of injuries you have on missions," Bucky adds into the settled silence, causing you to attempt to chuckle through the pain, which doesn't work as it sends more pain-searing through your body and near your wound.

"Sending you and Uncle Steve into cardiac arrest is serious considering you are both 100-odd years old." You joke with a light chuckle.

Your dad quickly reaches forward to gently pinch your forearm with his metal hand. "Ouch." You jut out your bottom lip, making your dad smile softly.

"Y/n..." Bucky's tone reaches a warning point. "What have I told you about bringing up our ages?"

You huff loudly before carefully folding your arms over your chest.

You've had the lecture of 'Now, as you are aware, your uncle and I are around 100 years old, but that does not give you the right to make jokes about it,' but as you can see, that lecture was pointless as you kept making small digs as it is.

"Just because you guys are old like fossils," Bucky glares daggers at you as you shrug, "it doesn't mean that I should make jokes about it because making jokes about people's age is rude. I know, Dad, you've given me this lecture many times, and yet I still do it."

Bucky shakes his head just as he finishes stitching you up.

He then begins looking around the area for the gauze that was just out of his reach; luckily for him, Alpine gently nudged the roll with her head, sending it rolling over to Bucky.

She meowed softly as her tail curled around her.

"Thanks, Alpine." He scratches her head before picking up the white stretchy fabric to begin wrapping it around your torso.

He ties a knot in the back before grabbing another clean cloth to tend to your bloody nose.

"Your grandma would've been furious seeing how easily and badly injured you get. I wish you could have seen her face when Steve got into trouble." Bucky chuckles, causing you to join to the best of your ability.

You always enjoyed hearing stories about your grandparents or your father and uncle when they were younger, and this was no exception.

"Don't act like you didn't get into trouble yourself too, Buck." Your uncle's voice echoes through the empty infirmary, making you both jump.

You glance over your dad's shoulder to see your uncle, who looked exhausted, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest.

"How're you doing, kiddo? You scared me back there."

"Apart from being in a shit ton of pain—"

"Y/n! Language!" Bucky barks, causing you to smile sheepishly.

 "-I'm doing much better. I feel just as exhausted as you look, though." You comment with a smile just as Steve pushes himself off of the wall to make his way over to your bed.

"You were always the one that got into trouble physically, Steve. I was the one pulling you out of them." Bucky says, referring back to Steve's first comment, which causes Steve to clap Bucky on the back before sitting down on the bed next to you.

The bed dips slightly under his pressure as he carefully wraps his arm around your shoulder.

At the sudden dip in the hard mattress, Alpine climbs onto your lap and begins to softly purr.

"What on earth are we going to do with you, Y/n/n?" Steve asks as he gently squeezes your shoulder.

"We better wrap her head to toe in that, uh, plastic thing with bubbles that makes the popping sound when you press down on them." You burst into laughter at your dad's attempt to identify something he was unfamiliar with.

Seeing as you were born during this time, you would often spend your free time educating your father and uncle on what things are called and what their purpose is.

The current topic is mobile phones.

"Bubble wrap, Dad." Bucky clicks his fingers as he hums in agreement.

You shake your head before turning to your uncle with a tired smile. "Have you figured out how to use the internet or how to call and text someone yet, Uncle Steve?"

"No, using a mobile phone is a lot harder than you'd expect," Steve replies nonchalantly. "At least it is for someone mine and your father's age."

"You're doing well, though; practice makes perfect." You stifle a loud yawn and blink back the urge to sleep as you run your fingertips up and down Alpine's back.

"Come on, doll. You need sleep; you can talk to your uncle tomorrow." Bucky orders quietly as he makes a swift move to pick the sleeping cat off of your lap, much to her dismay, to help you up.

You smile tiredly over at your uncle as your dad wraps his free arm around your shoulder to hold you up.

"Good night, Uncle Steve." You mumble quietly.

"Good night, Y/n/n," Steve replies, matching your tiredness.

At a slow and steady pace, you found yourself standing outside your bedroom door.

With little struggle, you push open the door to let Alpine strut into your bedroom so she can curl up on your bed (even though she has her own) before turning to hug your dad goodnight.

"No contact with water for a couple of days." He orders as he wiggles his finger in your face. "I love you, doll. Goodnight."

"I love you too, Dad. Night." You murmur before staggering into the dark and cold bedroom.

You gently push the door shut with the palm of your hand before stumbling through the dimly lit room and over to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

One thing is for sure: there are no more missions going to be planned for you, at least not on your father's watch.

[tulipfantasies]

cherry and vanilla gloss ✩ g.stacy

pairing; gwen stacy x fem!reader

summary; gwen was someone who was hard to convince but after some relentless begging, she finally caved in on the idea of you doing her makeup

characters; miles morales, pavitr prabhakar and hobie brown

warnings; gwen being called 'babe', fluff and there's no usage of y/n.

my notes; i don't know much about makeup. based off of a c.ai bot. i just want to give her a hug.

word count; 1.9k ao3

"Stop moving," You huff as you continue to gently drag the makeup brush against her cheek. "You are going to mess things up."

For weeks on end, you found yourself begging Gwen to let you do her makeup, and at every attempt, she turned you down.

She had nothing against you or makeup; she just wasn't the type of person who is able to stay perfectly still for a duration of time, hence why she never really bothered with makeup.

Time wasting.

But no matter what, you were persistent with the idea of doing her makeup, and after a good while, Gwen found herself caving into the idea.

She had climbed in through your bedroom window, dressed head to toe as her alter ego, while you were busy packing away the remaining makeup you hadn't used on yourself into your makeup bag.

At the sound of the window opening, you glanced over and met her masked gaze with a mischievous one.

That was all of 10 minutes ago; now you were perched upon your white vanity desk with an unmasked Gwen standing in between your parted legs.

"I can't believe you managed to wear me down." She grumbles as her gaze focuses on anything in your room, as long as it doesn't meet your own.

"Oh hush," You reply quickly as you continue to apply powder to her cheeks.

You then place the brush down on the space next to you before glancing to your left to see what else you could apply.

"You'd swear I'm getting you to rob a bank or something with the way you are acting."

"I am not," Gwen huffs before letting the corner of her lips curl up into a small smile. "I’ve got to admit, though, you are really good at this."

You pull away to give her a prideful smirk before reaching to the side for another brush and the small eyeshadow palette positioned off the very edge of the desk. "What colour do you want, babe?"

"That one," She says as she points to the pigments on the now-open palette that was held in her direction. "Nothing too bold or in your face."

Climbing in through your bedroom window as silently as possible meant that Gwen had left the window open slightly.

The refreshing New York breeze hits the exposed skin of your arms and legs, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up just as you hum in agreement with Gwen's words.

You twirled the brush over the pigment she had pointed to earlier before using the lid of the palette to tap off the remaining powder clinging to the brush.

You bring the brush up to her eyelid before using the same soft strokes used earlier, on her left eyelid.

"How did patrol go? I'm going to assume that since you are woundless, nothing out of the ordinary happened."

Gwen nods her head, causing you to huff and give her a look before answering.

"Unfortunately, nothing special, just the usual bank and jewellery store robberies. No villain of the week to report."

"Shame," You reply quietly as you move to blend out the eyeshadow on her left eyelid. "But I am very glad that I don't have to patch you up again."

Gwen chuckles before giving you a warm smile. "Oh, come on, you love playing nurse."

"Mhm, sure. Only when you are not bleeding out to death on my bedroom floor." You jokingly reply as you dip the brush back into the palette, moving to place the brush on her right eyelid, pulling away at times to make sure it looks the same as the other eyelid.

It takes you a couple more minutes to get her right eyelid to look identical to her left one, and with the added extra highlighter next to her tear ducts, her eyelids were done.

"Heavy on the eyeliner or the usual way?"

"Usual." Gwen shrugs her shoulders.

You turn your head to the side and glance over the contents littering the desk before leaning over to wrap your fingers around the eyeliner tube.

You screwed the lid off before moving back to face Gwen, who was watching you carefully.

Your free hand, which wasn't grasping the lid, curls underneath her chin and immediately pulls her gaze to meet your warm one.

"Okay, now don't move an inch." You say it sternly before reaching forward to place a chaste kiss on her cheek before pulling away to focus heavily and completely on applying the eyeliner in the way she likes.

Nothing excessive, just a wing on each eye.

Gwen smiles to herself as she feels your soft lips press quickly against her cheek.

A small blush dusted her cheeks where the kiss was placed.

After a few minutes of steadily applying a wing to each eye, you slowly pull away from her to get a full view of each wing and her eyeshadow.

A smirk filled with pride tugs at your lips.

"I'm going to do your mascara now," You tell her before screwing the lid on the eyeliner and dropping it down onto the desk while your fingers wrap around the tube of mascara.

"Have you seen Miles, Hobie, or Pavitr lately?"

"Pav is busy with Gayatri most days, but I did end up going to Miles' universe yesterday," Gwen replies as she watches your every movement closely.

"As for Hobie, I have no clue where he is."

You chuckle to yourself at her response while you unscrew the lid off of the mascara.

After making sure that there was enough mascara on the wand, you curled your hand back underneath her chin to pull her face slightly closer to your own so you had a better view of her lashes.

"You are awfully close," Gwen comments quietly as her lips tug into a smirk. You roll your eyes playfully.

"And you have pretty eyes. Blink." You compliment her with a smile in between giving her the order to blink with each application of the mascara.

She follows your orders with a warm grin.

"Aren't you a charmer?" She jokes with a chuckle before continuing. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, babe." You grin as you bring the wand up to her other set of eyelashes.

Your hand that was still resting on her face, to keep it still and steady, gently begins to draw soft circles onto her cheek as your other hand continues to brush upwards.

"How's Miles been?"

"He's doing well, actually," She replies as she continues to blink with every upward brush. "He's been drawing some girl in his sketchbook, but he never shares her name. She's pretty though; he tells me she's deaf and swears she's just a friend."

You smile warmly at the thought of your shared friend crushing on a girl and being too embarrassed to share who she is.

When Miles finds inspiration, he really pours his heart and soul into every stroke of his pen, often resulting in amazing art spreads.

You smile warmly as you pull the mascara wand away from her eyelashes to slip it back into the tube, making sure to screw the lid on tightly before letting it drop to the desk next to the rest of your makeup.

"Do you want any lipgloss?"

Gwen shakes her head with her eyes closed briefly; her big blue eyes meet your gaze the second she opens her eyes.

You smile to yourself as you shift to the side slightly so that she can look at herself in the mirror, which your back is lightly leaning on.

A sense of pride washes over you as she breaks out into a grin.

She didn't utter any words; she just continued to smile to herself, letting her gaze flit between you and the mirror on your desk.

In the silence, you reach to the left of you until your hand comes into contact with a plastic tube.

Your hand whips it up in front of your face as you study the label with a grin.

Cherry and Vanilla flavour.

"You look pretty if I do say so myself." You comment with a grin as you screw the lid off of the tube to bring the applicator closer to your lips.

With several large swipes of the applicator, your lips were coated in the thick, shimmery liquid that smelled amazing.

Gwen's gaze was now off of her appearance, which was staring back at her in the mirror before landing on you.

She watches attentively as you apply the thick layer of lipgloss across your lips, her eyes never leaving your lips as you screw the lipgloss back into the tube.

A smirk tugs on your lips as you notice her subtle glance at your lips.

The atmosphere in the room had automatically changed with the simple action of applying lipgloss.

The makeup was long discarded, and the only thing the two of you find yourselves doing is staring at each other, waiting and hoping that something will happen.

"You know, I bet they taste just as nice as they look." You trail off with a smirk as you wait and hope that she knows what your words are implying for her to do. "If not, better."

Without a single word or indication that she understood, she leaned forward so that your faces were inches away from each other before pressing her lips against yours.

You immediately drop the lipgloss to the floor, causing it to roll beneath your desk, before wrapping your arms around her neck and gently pulling her closer to you with your legs.

Your hand reaches up and rests on the back of her head, your fingers splaying out into her blonde hair as your lips move together.

"I feel like now may be the wrong time to drop in to say hello." A familiar voice, coming from the direction of the window, caused the two of you to break away from each other in surprise. "But, uh, hey?"

On the window sill sat an unmasked Miles, dressed as his alter ego with his khaki jacket pulled over the top of his suit.

He flashes a smirk as he glances between you and Gwen before reaching behind him to shut the window, fighting back the refreshing breeze, and moving off of the window sill and further into your room.

"Miles!" Gwen hisses as she turns to face him, shooting him a glare that makes you chuckle heartily.

"Hey, Miles," You greet him, not once taking your hand from Gwen's hair. "I didn't know you were dropping into this universe."

"Last-minute decision that was made on patrol." He shrugged, which caused Gwen to playfully roll her eyes at his words and actions.

With that, Gwen leans forward to place a soft kiss back on your lips before collapsing into your desk chair with a string of heavy sighs.

"Just be glad it was me that climbed in on you two kissing and not Hobie. You know he'd never let you live it down."

"I knew it!" Another voice, one that sounded excited, came from behind where Miles stood.

You crane your neck to look around Miles, only to be met with Hobie and Pavitr standing at your window.

Pavitr was practically bouncing with excitement. "I knew you two liked each other!"

Your gaze immediately drops to Gwen, who was burying her face in her hands to hide her blush, before smiling warmly to yourself and the rest of the gang that gathered in your room.

"Knew my drummer could do it," Hobie replies with a smug grin as he watches Gwen bury her face further into her hands (if that was even possible).

A blush of your own dusts your cheeks as he speaks up. But in that moment, everything felt right.

Maybe kissing Gwen and getting caught by Miles, Hobie, and Pavitr wasn't such a bad idea after all. Maybe it was supposed to happen.

[tulipfantasies]

⋅  𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ my masterlist

⋅  𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ updated: 10 may 2024

⋅  𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ notes: my work may contain language, fluff and/or angst as well as some adult topics (like addicition, you would not find smut, however). all of my work is aimed with fem!readers/fem!ocs in mind. my requests remain open.

─── ☆ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋;

𐙚 ‧₊˚ n.romanoff | black widow; (5 fics, 2 of which are cs)

" thank you for your cooperation "

𐙚 ‧₊˚ y.belova | white widow; (nothing here yet)

" it’s a fighting pose. you’re a total poser "

𐙚 ‧₊˚ p.parker | spider-man; (5 fics, of which all are cs)

" with great power, comes great responsibility "

𐙚 ‧₊˚ c.danvers | captain marvel; (nothing here yet)

" higher, further, faster, baby "

𐙚 ‧₊˚ w.maximoff | scarlet witch; (nothing here yet)

" i can’t control their fear, only my own "

𐙚 ‧₊˚ k.bishop | hawkette; (nothing here yet)

" i need a bow and arrow "

𐙚 ‧₊˚ l.laufeyson | god of mischief; (1 fic, of which is cs)

" i am loki of asgard and i am burdened with glorious purpose "

𐙚 ‧₊˚ t.stark | iron man; (2 fics, of which both are cs)

" genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist "

𐙚 ‧₊˚ s.lang | ant-man; (1 fics, of which is cs)

“ i didn't steal anything! i’m just returning something i stole “

𐙚 ‧₊˚ b.barnes | winter soldier; (2 fics, 1 of which is cs)

sibling and parent relationships only

" don’t do anything stupid until i get back "

𐙚 ‧₊˚ s.rogers | captain america; (nothing here yet)

sibling and parent relaitionships only

" how can i? you're taking all the stupid with you "

𐙚 ‧₊˚ the avengers; (nothing here yet)

" if you step out that door, you're an avenger "

─── ☆ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄

𐙚 ‧₊˚ g.stacy | spider-woman; (4 fics, 1 of which is cs)

" i never found the right band to join. so i started my own "

𐙚 ‧₊˚ m.morales | spider-man (nothing here yet)

" nah, imma do my own thing "

© tulipfantasies on tumblr. please refrain from reposting, translating, copying or claiming my work as your own. i’ve worked hard on them.

[tulipfantasies]

Just a reminder that fanfic authors don't owe you anything.

Sometimes updates are going to take fucking forever.

Sometimes fanfic writers are gonna stop writing because the fandom/story/etc. no longer brings them the same joy.

Sometimes books aren't gonna get finished.

and while It's okay to feel heartbroken or upset that these things have happened, you need to remember that these people aren't being paid for what they do. They're not gaining anything that means they have to finish what they started. They're doing this because they find joy in it

and sometimes that joy fades.

[tulipfantasies]

⋅  𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ charlotte, you can call me lottie. eighteen. april aries. she/her. welsh. isfp. hufflepuff. natasha romanoff, peter parker, peeta mellark and katniss everdeen enthusiast. bakes for comfort and writes for fun.

#! masterlist. side blog. most popular. tag guide. tag list. ao3. c.ai.

© tulipfantasies on tumblr. please refrain from reposting, translating, copying or claiming my work as your own. i’ve worked hard on them.