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“so, do you actually like me?”
you ask suddenly, breaking the silence that was between you and miguel in the kitchen as he prepared pancakes for a late night snack.
“come again?” he say sarcastically, flipping the pancake to the other side.
his back is facing you but you can hear the smirk in his tone.
you huff in response, but repeat yourself, “do you actually like me?”
it’s not like your question was along the same lines as ‘would you love me if i was a worm?’ or any late night silly thoughts, you were actually asking him.
“y/n, amor,” he sighs, “we’ve been together for what? four years? and we’re getting married in three months. of course i actually like you.”
you roll your eyes at his answer — unfortunately for miguel, it wasn’t the answer you were looking for.
“no, dumbass.” you say, and he whips his head around at the name calling, but you don’t pay mind to his dirty look, “do you actually actually like me?”
he scoffs, “i just told you that i did — ”
“no! i mean, do you actually like me? like why do you like me, you know? why are you so dumb?” you say, crossing your arms.
once more, he decides to ignore the name calling, “i think you need to get better at your wording, sweetheart.” he says and you scoff, “answer the question if you still want the wedding to be on.” you threaten and he laughs.
he pushes a pancake on a plate, “well if i had to talk about why i like you, we’re gonna be staying up the whole night.”
“flattering but not satisfying.”
he chuckles as he pushes over the plate of pancakes to you, and sits next to you by the counter.
miguel was never too good at expressing his feelings in words — the best he was at was calling you pet names and bringing you gifts every other day, but talking? nope, not his field of expertise.
but for you, he’d try.
“let’s see,” he hums, “i like the way you call my name whenever you want something”
“i like the way you get all flustered whenever i bring you a gift, even if it's something as simple as chocolate. I love the way you always tell me you love me whenever you just wake up, i love the way you kiss my forehead before we go to bed, i love the way you run your fingers through my hair after i’ve had a long day at work and you’re helping me relax — why are you so silent?”
he asks, afraid that he has been doing bad, but when he turns to look at you, you have tears in your eyes.
“i’m gonna cry.” you say, your voice wobbly as you wipe away at your tears and he laughs, holding your hands to stop you, “good tears or bad tears?” he teases.
you sniffle, “good tears.”
“amor.” he chides, and the realization that you two are about to get married in three months, that you’re already engaged to him, that you’re his and that you will always be his, dawns on him.
he smiles and pecks your lips softly, “i love you for the long term.”
you laugh and smile and peck his lips back,
“i love you for the long term too.”
#heroinnne writes#silly little drabble#marvel#marvel headcanons#atsv#atsv headcanons#atsv drabble#atsv miguel#atsv x reader#spiderman atsv#miguel o'hara#miguel 2099#miguel ohara headcanons#miguel ohara drabble#miguel ohara imagine#miguel ohara x reader
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hey guys! i just wanted to drop by and tell y'all that i started a new account! it's @heroinnne and it gonna be for writing marvel related content <33 so drop a follow if you're interested! i may even write so cod stuff <333
#im gonna write so much bucky barnes content you wont even imagine#announcement!#haikyuu#marvel#marvel headcanons
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miguel doesn't ask for comfort, even when he desperately needs it.
it's a game of guessing with him, really — you have to look out for the subtle changes in his body language to tell if he's upset or stressed, like the slightly more deepend furrow of his eyebrows or the clench of his jaw, the constant sighing and grunting when he does anything, the way he runs his hand through his hair or across his face as he works — nobody but you would really catch on to these kind of stuff they’d just think he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed again — but not you, you know miguel, you know when he’s out of it.
tonight is another night of patrol for miguel — he knows that you don't sleep unless he has made it home, so it was no surprise that when he’d gotten in through the balcony of your shared apartment, he found you, sitting on the couch even though it was three in the middle of the night an you had work early morning.
he murmurs a quiet ‘i’m home’ under his breath — and you notice it, the slump of his shoulders, the slight frown on his face as if he’s thinking about something, not to mention the way he just walks past you to the bathroom, without even a hello or a kiss, as if you weren’t there, or maybe he just didn’t want to acknowledge you.
you leave him be, you know when he needs his space, you can imagine how rough patrol can be on him, he probably needs a moment of peace in the shower. so, with that, you head back towards the bedroom, and get comfortable under the sheets.
not long after, the door to the bedroom opens and miguel steps in, wearing a loose white shirt and sweatpants, his damp hair brush back, and you notice just how heavy his eyebags are, and the growing bruise on the side of his jaw.
he heads towards the bed and sits on the edge of his side, his back turned to you and his head hangs low and you notice that he’s breathing somewhat heavy, his usually inaudible inhales loud this time and you wonder if he’s having another one of his panic attacks.
you sit up, leaning over to him, your fingers gently touch his back, and his muscles are tense under your caress — he turns his head slightly over you, just so that your gaze can catch his, you give him a soft smile “hi.”
the frown on his face eases slightly, “hey.” his gruff voice is unusually quiet and raspy.
“you okay?” you ask softly, your fingers tracing patterns on his back.
“yeah.” he lies, cause of course he does, he knows that you know he’s not okay, and even though he knows you're the first person he should be honest with when it comes to his well being, he can’t break the habit of spilling meaningless and false, ‘i’m fine’ from his lips.
you hum in response and he craves your touch when you pull away from him and lean back on the bed — you spread your arms slightly, as if inviting him in for your embrace.
he doesn’t hesitate much, he leans over to you, letting your small arms wrap around his broad shoulders as you place a soft kiss to his lips, and another one to the bruise on his jaw, your touch so gentle before he buries his face in your chest and wraps his arms around your waist, the rest of his body lays comfortably between your legs and you let out a soft laugh when he lets out a deep hum.
“how was patrol today?” you ask him, your fingers running through his hair.
“don’t wanna talk about it.” he grumbles, nuzzling his face further in your chest, inhaling in your familiar scent.
you don’t ask him about it again, instead just opting for the comfortable silence that falls over the two of you, you notice the small blue and purple blotches that littered his neck and shoulders and you notice how his breathing has calmed down too.
your hands move from his hair to his nape, your fingers pressing down lightly on his skin to massage it, and he lets out a grunt of content in response.
he’s always liked that about you, how gentle your touch is, how carefully you handle him, it wasn’t something he was used to or allowed himself to get used to with anyone, before you anyway.
“I like it when you do that.” he mutters as your hands trail down to his back, massaging it as well, caressing his muscles, your touch so tender.
“I know.” you hum in response, a small smile tugging at your lips when he looks up at you with an unamused expression, but nevertheless he can’t help but lean into your touch more.
“relax, miguel.” you tell him, your hands move up to his face an you cup his cheeks, leaning in to give him a kiss on the tip of his nose, “how about some sleep, yeah?”
you've always been so gentle with him, your touch so mellow that he can’t help but melt from it, and your voice so soft that his heart leaped every time he heard it and he couldn’t help but give in to everything you told him.
he nods and rolls on his side, his arm still wrapped around your waist and he holds you close — your presence a comfort to him, and he wants to stay like this forever -— just the two of you, alone, sharing this moment of delicate touch and tranquility forever.
he kisses the top of your head and asks, “can you call in sick for work tomorrow?” because tomorrow is his off day, and he wants to spend it with you, just a lazy sunday in bed.
you chuckle, the sound muffled by your face buried in his chest, “‘course.”
“good.” he hums in response, and despite all of todays stresses and fights, he can’t help but feel at peace with you in his arms.
#marvel#atsv#atsv miguel#atsv drabble#atsv headcanons#atsv x reader#miguel ohara drabble#miguel ohara headcanons#miguel ohara#miguel ohara x reader#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#heroinnne writes
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the first time miguel met you, he was on patrol.
he saved you from a falling building that you were standing under with a dumbfounded expression on and unmoving — he managed to get you to safety but as soon as you were far away from danger, he was scolding you, telling you something about how you should get your damn legs moving when there’s rubble falling from above.
you had apologized at the time with a shaky voice, telling him how much you panicked that you froze — he only scoffed in response, mumbling about how you should be more careful before swinging away.
of course, at the time you only knew him as the snarky and rude spiderman of nueva york.
the second time miguel met you was on the sidewalk while he was heading for his job.
it was a nice morning, a soft breeze rippled his clothes and the sun kissed his skin warmly, he figured he'd stop for a coffee and that it wouldn’t hurt if he walked the way to the office, right?
before he knew it, your body was colliding with his and his coffee spilled to the ground ( thankfully not on his shirt, though ) he muttered a few curses in spanish, staring at the crumpled cup that used to be his drink, now spilled on the ground — it wasn’t until he registered the panicked apologies that he realized it was you.
the same civilian he saved a few days ago.
you looked out of place, in a rush with a white blouse that was half tucked into your black pants, your hair a bit of a mess as if you had just gotten out of bed.
you looked like you were late to work, and in your hurried steps, you had accidentally bumped into a stranger.
miguel told you that it was fine and you shouldn't worry about his coffee in a rather passive aggressive tone but that didn’t cut your apologies short and instead you offered to buy him another coffee and when he refused, you dragged him to the nearest coffeehouse anyway and insisted that you’d buy him another drink in compensation for the one you made him spill.
miguel figured he couldn’t refuse you at that point, you seemed rather insistent and stubborn, so he gave in to your offer and he figured it wouldn’t hurt to have his spilled coffee replaced.
despite having his morning ruined by bumping into someone, you out of all people — he’d say his day went great actually.
the third time miguel met you was at a work party.
he thought the voice he heard talking to another coworker sounded all too familiar, so when he turned around to see who it was, surely enough it was you, in a pretty little panel skirt red dress — your hair and make up done almost too well, and you didn't look hurried or panicked like the last two times he had seen you, rather, you looked relaxed, confident even, a soft smile on your painted red lips, and sparkling eyes as you spoke to your colleague.
miguel's mouth was practically agape as he drank the sight of you in — how come you were so pretty?
well, you were always pretty, he thinks, it was just amplified now.
especially with the way that dress fitted your body so good — miguel wondered how he has never seen you at the office before.
miguel’s feet had a mind of their own because moments later he found himself walking over to you, drink in hand and offering it to you.
your eyes widened with recognition and you were immediately stumbling over your words, realizing he was the man you bumped into a week ago and spilled his coffee, but most importantly, the big bad scary boss of alchemax that you were meeting for the very first time, and he was offering you a drink.
you accepted it, of course.
two drinks later and you may have gotten too tipsy that you started telling him about how spiderman saved you one time, held you and scolded you. miguel could only laugh in response, because unbeknownst to you, they were the same person.
but then you started ranting about how you had the fattest crush on him and miguel almost choked on his drink — he knew if you were sober, you would've probably nqever said that out loud.
instead, he humored you, listened to you rant about the superhero and how attracted you were to him with an amused smile on his face — the first smile miguel had ever worn at the office.
of course, all of the other employees were stunned at how their boss seemed so relaxed and maybe even amused for the first time — considering how much he hated office parties, and the office in general.
several drinks later and at the end of the night, miguel was walking you out of the office building because you were too drunk not to trip over your own feet, he asked you if you had a ride home which you responded to with a slurred 'no'.
miguel decided, since he was a superhero, he’d save you just one more time and drive you home, to safety, just without the mask this time.
midway through the drive home, you started rambling on again, this time about how you thought miguel himself was attractive, he let out a surprised laugh, it sounded a bit choked before he decided to tease you and ask you why you thought he was attractive.
you shrugged, your cheeks flushed form the alcohol and eyes half lidded before you murmured, "you remind me of spiderman."
he only chuckled a bit in response to that, and decided to not push it any further so you wouldn't somehow uncover his secret identity in your drunken state.
fifteen minutes later and he was parked under your apartment building, at least the one you pointed at, he asked you if you could get up to your apartment on your own to which you gave him a sheepish smile and shook your head.
he decided that it wouldn't hurt if he helped you to your doorstep.
surely enough, it was a struggle to get you out of the car, your legs shook and you leaned all your weight on him, mumble out incoherent 'sorry's and 'excuse me's.
miguel held you against him, an entertained smile on his face — it's then end of the night, your make up has worn out a bit and your hair was gathered intona ponytail to keep it out of your face — and even though you looked dazed from the one too many drinks you had, miguel though you still looked pretty, too pretty.
he got you into the elevator and you pressed the key to your floor toy leaned on him for support, letting out a soft hiccup once in a while — "i'm not…always like this, i swear." you said in a quiet mumble, your words a quiet mumble. miguel laughed, shaking his head at you, "it's fine."
once you reached your floor, miguel helped you find your keys in your purse to open the door to your apartment — you managed so successfully, "I'm sure you'll be okay from here on out, yeah?" miguel asked, a hand on your back to support you still.
you nodded, turning to face him — a moment of silence passed with you just staring at him, before you leaned over to him, standing on your tippy toes and pressing your body against his, your lips touched his in a soft peck — though it was enough for him to get a taste of you, a whiff of your sweet perfume , and it was a little too much for him to process, the feel of your body against his, the softness of your lips fitted with his, and his heart was doing cartwheels.
you pulled away, gazing up at him, before softly murmuring "you're so pretty."
and then you smiled, walking into you apartment and shutting the door behind you, leaving miguel stunned and with the taste of you lingering on his lips.
fuck, you were too pretty.
#marvel#atsv#atsv drabble#atsv headcanons#atsv x reader#atsv miguel#miguel ohara#miguel headcanons#miguel ohara drabble#miguel ohara x reader#miguel x reader#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 headcanons#spiderman 2099 x reader#heroinnne writes
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“it's our cover.”
bucky stares at the ring on his finger, a fine silver one, then his eyes drift to the one on your finger, golden with a diamond to top it off.
a cover for a mission, a freshly wedded couple on their honeymoon in paris.
he’s not sure how to feel about this.
especially with all of the feelings he has towards you.
“you picked this out, didn’t you?” he asks and you smirk, shrugging your shoulders, “can’t help myself with a little fun.” you say.
he deadpans at you.
“what?” you laugh, “you don’t like it?”
“no, it’s not that.” he huffs, fiddling with the ring, “it’s weird.”
“what's weird?” you ask softly, and when he doesn’t answer, you walk closer to him, so close that your bodies touch as you put your hands on his chest, and you tilt your head up to look at him, and you’re so, so close that he hasn’t had this kind of contact since the forties.
“bucky,” you chide gently, “why is it weird?” you tone is in a hushed whisper, and your face is so close to his that your lips are almost touching.
his heart is going a thousand miles per hour, and with everything he has done as the winter soldier, and with everything he has also done as sergeant barnes, he has never felt so weak in the knees before.
“you’re my best friend.” he whispers and sure you are his best friend, his very best friend that has helped him get through everything, his best friend that has always been by his side, and his best friend that’s almost kissing him right now.
“so?” you hum, tilting your head at him, “don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” you say, a slight frown on your face and a pout at your lips — he has been giving you one too many mixed signals for the past few months, and it’s not like there is a fine line between friends and lovers at this point, oh no, that line has been gone for too long.
“bucky.” you say softly, trailing your fingers up to his neck until they’re tugging at his hair, “do you love me or not?”
a beat of silence passes.
how is he supposed to answer that? for fuck’s sake, of course he loves you, how could he not? you’re everything for him, his entire world ever since he met you.
so why is he hesitating to answer now?
but when he sees the frown at your face and the hint of tears forming on your waterline and when you begin to pull away with a ‘im sorry’s falling from your lips, he puts his hands at your waist and pulls you close.
“i do.” he mutters softly, “i do love you.”
your breath hitches and you stare up at him, and another beat of silence passes, “then kiss me.” you murmur.
and he does, he presses his lips to your and oh how perfectly they fit against his, how perfectly soft they are, and he can taste the cherry chapstick your always wear on his tongue and he can't help but feel how all of this is familiar to him, how all of it is so, so comforting to him, how his heart beats fast but he's at peace, that he's content.
you peck his lips and you pull away slightly, a giddy smile on your face, “i love you too.” you hum softly.
and everything is just so right at this moment.
#heroinnne writes#yes this is inspired by that one scene from the 355#marvel#marvel headcanons#marvel drabbles#marvel x you#marvel x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes headcanon#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes comfort#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x you
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“are you okay?”
marc asks, gripping your arm and checking you over for any lethal injuries, his brows knitted in worry.
“i’m fine.” you say, wiping away at some blood that was on your cheek from a cut.
the two of you are in the aftermath of another fight — and you got caught up in the crossfire, and bravely — or stupidly, depends on where you see this from — you had jumped in to defend marc.
“you shouldn’t have done that.” marc says, pushing off your hand and wiping the rest of the blood off of your cheek.
“marc, i told you —” he cuts you off, “it was stupid and reckless.”
“marc —”
“do you know what would've happened if i didn’t get there in time?”
“i’m —”
“you could’ve died, y/n!” he cries out, and he doesn’t know what he would've done if you did, you weren’t meant for all of this, the fighting, the violence, the hurt.
you were too fragile, too chaste.
and he was all you had for protection at a place and time you shouldn’t have been at.
“and it would've been my fault.” he continues, his voice gruff and weak, and his hand shakes in yours, and you notice the tears welling up in his eyes even as he casts his gaze down so you wouldn’t see.
“marc,” you say softy, cupping his face in your hand as you tilt his head up to face you, and when a tear slips, you wipe it away with your thumb, “i’m okay.” you reassure him.
“look at me,” you say softly, “i’m as good as new.” you try to joke to lighten the mood but it doesn’t work.
you lean in closer, pressing your lips against his in an attempt to comfort him, to ground him to your presence.
it works as you feel him melt into the kiss, his hand holding yours and he knows that you’re here.
you pull away slight from the kiss, and you whisper against his lips,
“come on, let’s go home.”
#marvel#marvel headcanons#marvel x reader#moon knight#moon boys#moon knight headcanons#moon knight drabble#moon knight fanfic#moon knight system#marc spector#moon knight x reader#marc spector x reader#marc spector imagine#marc spector angst#moon knight angst#heroinnne writes
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you and miguel ended on really bad terms
it’s not that he was a bad boyfriend or anything — well, he kind of was, he just wasn’t that bad, he was loving, sure, sweet at times, brought you gifts whenever he could, introduced you to some of his friends but, he had a really bad habit of prioritizing work above anything else.
work was always at the top for miguel, it was practically his entire life — he spent most of his hours either at his alchemax or at his office at your shared apartment, writing reports and whatnot.
that, of course, resulted with him spending less time with you.
over the span of the two years you dated him in, no matter how many times you chided and scolded him about it, he never changed his habit and when you finally at your peak, you blew up at him.
and after a really, really bad fight, things ended on really, really bad term.
it took you a while to get over him, but after some time and some wine, you finally did.
so now, why is he at the same bar as you, beating up a guy that was feeling you up?
you’re standing there, stunned with your drink in your hand watching the scene unfold before you, watching as miguel beats the absolute crap out of that perv’s face.
eventually, some people crowd up against them, and manage to separate miguel off of the guy, by that time, you’ve drawn yourself out of the bar.
unfortunately ( fortunately ) miguel manages to catch up to you.
he calls out your name and it stops you and you turn around to focus on him and he catches up to you.
his hand finds its way to your waist, and a concerned frown is etched on his face, “are you okay?”
you clear your throat, a slight blush on your face from the contact, “yeah.”
miguel notices his hand is at a place it shouldn’t be, and he quickly retract it — it’s not like he could’ve helped it though, given the fact that the two of you were ex-lovers, it was a force of habit.
a beat passes and he clears his throat. he asks, “are you sure?”
you try for a smile and nod your head, “i’m sure.”
another beat passes in silence, the both of you staring at each other, taking in each other’s appearance — you in a short red dress, with your hair and make up done, maybe you were he for a date, miguel thinks.
fuck, he’s missed you so much.
sure, it’s been six month since the break up, but miguel never really got over you.
he knew he fucked up big time when that fight happened, that fight that ended everything, miguel knew he was at fault yet he failed to admit that at the time.
maybe now he’s ready.
just when you turn and are about to leave, he grabs your arm, muttering a soft, “i’m sorry.”
your breath hitches, “come again?” you heard what he said, you just weren’t sure if you heard it right.
“i’m sorry.” he says again, his voice cleared this time, “for everything. for everything i’ve done. i’m sorry.”
and he means it, he misses you so bad and he’s matured enough now to suck up and admit his mistakes.
“i’m sorry for not giving you enough of my time, i’m sorry for putting work above you, i shouldn’t have done that and i know that i really fucked up.” he admits.
your heart is beating against your chest at his sincere words and apology, you know he’s being truthful with you right now.
“i miss you.” he admits, his voice soft.
a slight smile stretches at your lips, because against your bitter will, you missed him too.
“i miss you too.” and at your words, a smile finds its way to miguel’s lips.
“and i accept your apology.” you add.
he chuckles, and his heart is beating out of his chest with joy, “so we good?”
“yeah,” you smile at him, “i’ll give you a call sometime?"
#heroinnne writes#kinda don't like this#marvel#marvel headcanons#atsv drabble#atsv headcanons#atsv x reader#marvel x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara headcanons#miguel o'hara drabbles#miguel 2099#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara x reader#spider man 2099 x reader
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hobie has a bad habit of sneaking into your place at night.
it's not his fault really, that you leave your windows open at night to let in the cool breeze — it makes it all the more irresistible for him to sneak in.
well, it’s not technically sneaking in cause you gave him a key to your apartment a long time ago, it’s just that you’d prefer it if he used the door instead of looking like a damn burglar trying to hijack your apartment.
take now for example — you walk out to the living room to get a glass of water at two am and you see a man sitting at you window still about to get in.
naturally, you scream.
“oh my god!” you yell, hurrying to turn on the lights and it only calms you a tiny bit when you see that it’s hobie.
your heart is thumping in your chest and you rub your ace in exasperation, “would you stop doing that?” you say, waving your hand in the air.
hobie only chuckles as he jumps in on the floor, “what? did i scare you, love?”
“no shit!’ you say, pouting at him, “why can’t you just use the door like a normal person? you know you have a spare key, right?”
“i know.” he hums, a smug smirk on his face as he walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist, “but i’m spiderman, besides, it’s fun to scare you.”
“you’re so annoying.” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and he leans in to peck your lip.
“so?” you mutter against his lips, “what are you doing here?”
“wanted to join you for the night.” he mutters back and you hum in response, “well, why don’t we get to bed, then?” you say and he nods.
you grin and take his hand, leading him back to your room for the night.
the thing is, hobie didn’t believe in label, and he has never called you his girlfriend but you knew he loved you, it spoke in everything he did and said to you, and you’ve let him in to your heart, having been years around his company it was hard not to find comfort in it.
and damn do you have a hold on him.
#heroinnne writes#me and your mama by childish gambino#hobie brown drabble#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown x you#hobie brown x female reader#hobie brown x y/n#hobie brown#atsv#spider punk#atsv hobie#hobie spiderverse#spider punk x reader#atsv headcanons#atsv drabble#atsv x reader#marvel#marvel x reader#hobie brown headcanons
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