ericshoney

[ericshoney]

Company Crush ~ SVT 14th!Member AU

Summary: You're oblivious to Lee Heeseung's crush on you, but the guys are fully aware.

Warnings: Possible swearing, protective Oppas.

You were oblivious.

Oblivious to the heart eyes that Lee Heeseung would give you whenever you walked into the room. Oblivious to the way he would stare at you with a mixture of adoration and nervousness, his eyes sparkling with a secret only he knew. Oblivious to the blushing and stuttering that would overcome him whenever you spoke to him, his face turning a deep shade of pink as he struggled to find the right words.

You were oblivious to Lee Heeseung's crush on you.

However, the guys knew. They were quick to spot his cute attempts at flirting, the way he would find excuses to touch your arm or brush against you. They noticed how he would smile at everything you'd say, his face lighting up with a radiant glow that was impossible to ignore. They saw the way he would go out of his way to make you laugh, to make you happy, and they couldn't help but feel a sense of amusement and affection for their younger member.

Were they angry? Of course not. They were protective. They were your older brothers, after all, and it was their duty to look out for you and make sure you were safe. They had taken you under their wing from the moment you joined Seventeen, and they had watched you grow into a confident and talented young woman.

As they observed Heeseung's behavior, they couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over them. They remembered when they were younger, and they had their own crushes and first loves. They knew how it felt to be smitten, to be helpless against the charms of someone you admired.

But they also knew that Heeseung's crush on you was different. He was gentle, kind, and genuine, and they could see the sincerity in his eyes whenever he looked at you. They knew that he would never hurt you, that he would always put your feelings first, and that gave them a sense of comfort and reassurance.

One day, as you were rehearsing for an upcoming performance, the Enhypen members popped in for a visit and Heeseung found himself sitting next to you on the couch, his leg touching yours as you both watched the choreography video on your phone. You were oblivious to the sparks flying between you, but the guys noticed, and they exchanged knowing glances.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow and mouthed "he's got it bad" to Jeonghan, who was sitting across from them. Jeonghan chuckled and nodded in agreement, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Meanwhile, Heeseung was trying his best to play it cool, but his eyes kept drifting back to you, his gaze drinking in the sight of your bright smile and sparkling eyes. You were laughing at something on the video, and he couldn't help but join in, his voice blending with yours in perfect harmony.

The guys watched, amused, as Heeseung's crush on you became more and more apparent. Even the other members of Enhypen could tell. They knew that it was only a matter of time before you realised how he felt, and they couldn't wait to see how you would react.

Would you be surprised? Would you be flattered? Or would you feel the same way, and return Heeseung's affections with a crush of your own?

Only time would tell, but for now, the guys were content to watch and wait, their protective instincts on high alert as they guarded your heart and made sure that you were safe from harm.

Tags:

@mandmilovehim @parkjihoonsnudes @rajah-oliver @lgbtq-girl @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sanaxo-o @lateej

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[ericshoney]

Forgotten Birthday ~ Avengers

Summary: Being the youngest Avenger usually means you get looked over for missions, but you never thought they'd forget your birthday.

Warnings: Possible swearing, angst, tears, fluff at end.

Reader's age: 17

Being the youngest Avenger had its perks. I could outrun a speeding car, manipulate energy fields, and occasionally, snag the last slice of pizza before Tony could. But it also meant being underestimated, sidelined on the ‘easier’ missions, and treated with a gentle, almost patronising, kind of care. I knew they meant well. They were protective, especially Steve, who saw me as the kid sister he never had. But sometimes, I just wanted to be seen as an equal. A capable, contributing member of the team.

And today, on my birthday, I just wanted them to remember that I wasn't just a little kid anymore.

The day had started like any other. I woke up, expecting at least a mumbled "Happy Birthday" from whoever was awake. Nothing. I figured they were busy, caught up in some impending doom I hadn't been briefed on. I made my own breakfast, a sad, solitary affair with a bowl of cereal and a heavy dose of disappointment.

The day dragged on. Peter came over, rambling on about something that happened in school - the one place I think I was happy I never attended, Tony deciding I could learn at the tower - listened patiently as Sam complained about the lack of decent bird-watching spots in New York, and somehow sat through a lecture from Bruce talking about gamma radiation.

I paced the common room, trying to look busy, hoping someone would notice the date on their phone, the faint decorations I'd secretly put up last night (easily dismissed as late Halloween ornaments, I supposed). The clock ticked with maddening precision, each second a hammer blow to my already fragile hopes.

Finally, around late afternoon, Natasha walked in, her face etched with a familiar weariness. “Rough day,” she sighed, dropping onto the opposite end of the couch.

“You could say that,” I muttered, trying to keep my voice neutral.

She glanced at me, her eyes narrowed slightly. “Something up?”

This was my chance. “Just… a little forgotten,” I said, carefully avoiding eye contact.

She studied me for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she stood up. “Wait here.”

Hope flickered within me, a tiny, fragile flame. Maybe she remembered. Maybe she was going to orchestrate a surprise party, a cake with seventeen candles, a chorus of off-key "Happy Birthdays."

But no, she returned empty handed, “Tony needs help re-calibrating the repulsors. He’s about to blow up the lab. You're closest. Go.”

My heart sank. The flicker of hope extinguished. I forced a smile. “Sure thing, Nat.”

The lab was, indeed, a controlled chaos. Tony was covered in grease, his usually impeccable hair a mess. He barked orders at a bewildered-looking Peter, who was struggling to hold a wrench twice his size.

“Ah, Y/n! Perfect timing,” Tony exclaimed, without even looking at me. “Hold this. Tight. And don't breathe on it.”

I spent the next hour balancing carefully on a stool, holding a delicate piece of Stark tech, trying not to sneeze, and feeling utterly invisible.

Finally, Tony declared the repulsors “minimally functional,” and Peter, bless his heart, after being dismissed as a “potential explosion hazard,” whispered a quick, “Happy birthday, Y/n!” before scurrying off.

It was enough to make me want to cry.

I mumbled a thank you and slumped back into the common room, defeated. I couldn't even muster the energy to be angry. Just… sad.

The others slowly trickled back in, one by one. Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Bruce, all looking exhausted and preoccupied. Each of them passed me with a cursory nod, completely oblivious.

I decided to retreat to my room, to wallow in self-pity and watch bad reality TV. As I reached the door, Steve’s voice stopped me.

“Y/n, could you…” he trailed off, looking slightly sheepish. "You look a little down. Everything okay?"

"Fine," I lied, my voice barely a whisper.

He frowned. "You sure? You know you can talk to me."

I wanted to scream, to tell him that no, everything was not fine, that it was my birthday, and they had all completely forgotten. But the words caught in my throat, choked by disappointment.

"Yeah, Steve. I'm fine. Just tired." I turned and walked into my room, closing the door softly behind me. I leaned against it, tears welling in my eyes.

A moment later, there was a knock. I ignored it.

The door opened.

It wasn’t Steve. It was Bucky, looking uncharacteristically awkward.

“Hey, kid,” he said, his voice rough around the edges. “Heard you weren’t having such a great day.”

I glared at him, tears threatening to spill over. “What do you want, Bucky?”

He shuffled his feet. “Just… figured you might want this.” He held out a small, rectangular box.

I took it, my fingers trembling. Inside, nestled on a bed of velvet, was a silver bracelet. It was simple, elegant, and perfectly me.

"Natasha picked it out," Bucky said, avoiding my gaze. "Said it was…appropriate."

My breath hitched. “But… they forgot.”

Bucky shook his head. “We didn’t forget, kid. We just… we wanted it to be a surprise.”

He stepped aside, and I saw them. Standing in the hallway, all of them, looking sheepish and slightly apologetic. Tony held a half-eaten cake (chocolate, my favourite). Natasha had a stack of presents wrapped in brightly coloured paper. Steve was grinning, a genuine, warm smile that reached his eyes. Sam was holding a boombox, which he promptly turned on, blasting a slightly off-key version of "Happy Birthday."

“Surprise!” they all yelled, their voices blending together in a cacophony of sound.

Tears streamed down my face, but this time, they were tears of relief and joy. I laughed, a shaky, emotional sound.

"You guys…" I choked out, unable to find the right words.

"We may not always show it, Y/n," Steve said, stepping forward and giving me a hug, "but you're an important part of this team. And you're important to us."

Tony clapped me on the shoulder. “Alright, enough with the mushy stuff. Cake time! And presents! And then, maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you drive one of my cars.”

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, cake, terrible presents (thanks, Tony), and surprisingly heartfelt speeches. I learned that Natasha had been planning the surprise for weeks and that Bucky had spent hours agonising over the perfect gift.

As I sat there, surrounded by my dysfunctional, chaotic, but ultimately loving family, I realised that being the youngest Avenger wasn’t so bad after all. They might forget things sometimes, they might underestimate me, but they would always, eventually, come through. And sometimes, that's all that really matters. Especially on a birthday.

Tags:

@riowritesitall @mandmilovehim @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @lgbtq-girl @parkjihoonsnudes @rajah-oliver

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[ericshoney]

hi! i was wondering if you still write for sam and colby!

Hey! 👋

Yes I do still write for Sam and Colby, just been lacking ideas at the moment! 🤣

[ericshoney]

Introducing.....

Seventeen's 14th member!

Y/n. Maknae. 00 Liner. Vocalist. Rapper. Gamer. Artist. Kind. Little sister. Chaotic. Energetic. Plushie obsessed. Pink. Ice coffee. Protected by her Oppas. Animal lover.

Joined with Seventeen!

13 crackhead Oppas. Protective. Teasing. Caring. Older brothers. Spoil their maknae.

~ company Crush (Oneshot)

Tags:

@parkjihoonsnudes @mandmilovehim @sanaxo-o @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @lgbtq-girl @rajah-oliver

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[ericshoney]

Thank you to everyone who voted! Seventeen's 14th!member is in the works!

VOTE

Hey all! Vote time!

I would like to try and write some oneshots based on the options. I was just curious about what you'd like to see more. Honestly either is fine with me, I love both ideas, I'm just curious :)

@sanaxo-o @mandmilovehim @riowritesitall @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @lgbtq-girl @parkjihoonsnudes plus anyone else who wants to vote :)

[ericshoney]

VOTE

Hey all! Vote time!

I would like to try and write some oneshots based on the options. I was just curious about what you'd like to see more. Honestly either is fine with me, I love both ideas, I'm just curious :)

@sanaxo-o @mandmilovehim @riowritesitall @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @lgbtq-girl @parkjihoonsnudes plus anyone else who wants to vote :)

[ericshoney]

Nectar ~ The Boyz

Summary: You enjoy the afternoon with your eleven best friends, experiencing the highs and lows of graduation high school.

Warnings: Possible swearing, slight angst, crying, memory sharing, fluff.

You were still in disbelief. Graduation was here and it was finally time to say goodbye to high school. You were excited, scared and nervous for this new chapter in life.

But at least you had your best friends.

Eleven chaotic boys. The Boyz, as you called them.

They were practically brothers to you. Helping you with any problems, teasing you and just being by your side.

However, you were upset that graduation meant going separate ways. Moving on.

You scanned the crowd, a sea of other students also graduating, until you spotted them. Sangyeon, the steady leader, his usually calm face split by a wide, proud grin. Jacob, radiating warmth and kindness, waving enthusiastically. Younghoon, trying to play it cool but failing miserably as he subtly adjusted his tie. Hyunjae, the charismatic charmer, already surrounded by a group of admirers. Juyeon, tall and imposing, somehow managed to trip over his own feet. Kevin, ever the artist, sporting a subtly painted graduation cap. Chanhee, the sly strategist, a knowing smile playing on his lips. Changmin, a bundle of pure energy, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Haknyeon, the sunshine personified, his laughter echoing through the crowd. Sunwoo, the cheeky rapper, winking from behind his sunglasses. And finally, Eric, the youngest, his eyes sparkling with excitement and a hint of sadness.

You rushed over, moving between other students until you reached them, you were immediately engulfed in a group hug.

"Finally done with this hellhole!" Sunwoo yelled, earning a smack on the arm from Sangyeon.

"Hey, show some respect, we had some good times here," Sangyeon chuckled.

"Yeah, good times mostly because of you," you replied, grinning at them.

They all laughed, the sound familiar and comforting. But beneath the laughter, you could sense a shared undercurrent of sadness.

"So," you said, your voice wavering slightly, "what now?"

The group fell silent. The air crackled with unspoken anxieties.

"We should do something to celebrate!" Haknyeon chirped, trying to break the tension. "Like, a proper The Boyz celebration!"

"That’s a great idea!" Eric agreed enthusiastically. "Let's go to the beach! We haven't been in ages."

The suggestion was met with a chorus of approval. A trip to the beach felt like the perfect way to commemorate this milestone, one last hurrah before the future pulled you all in different directions.

The beach was vibrant with life. Families picnicked, couples strolled hand-in-hand, and children built sandcastles. But you and the guys carved out your own space, a chaotic circle of laughter and playful banter.

Younghoon and Juyeon started a sandcastle competition, which quickly devolved into a sand-flinging war. Kevin, inspired by the sunset, began sketching in his notebook. Chanhee and Sunwoo engaged in a heated debate about…well, you weren't entirely sure, but it involved complex strategies and rapid-fire insults. Haknyeon was busy collecting seashells, his face lit up with childlike wonder. Eric chased after him, trying to steal his collection. Sangyeon and Jacob sat a little apart, watching the chaos unfold with amused smiles.

You found yourself sitting next to Hyunjae, watching the waves crash against the shore. "It's crazy, isn't it?" you said, your voice barely a whisper. "We're actually graduating."

Hyunjae nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "It is. Things are going to change."

"That's what I'm afraid of," you admitted. "I don't want things to change too much. I don't want us to drift apart."

Hyunjae turned to you, his eyes filled with sincerity. "Y/n, we're The Boyz. We've been through thick and thin together. Distance might separate us physically, but nothing can break the bond we share. You're a part of that too."

His words were comforting, but the fear still lingered.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, you all gathered around a bonfire. Sangyeon pulled out a guitar, and soon the air was filled with music. You sang songs that held special meaning to your group, songs that echoed memories of shared laughter, inside jokes, and unforgettable adventures.

As you sang along, tears welled up in your eyes. This was it. This was the end of an era.

Later, as the embers of the bonfire died down, you found yourself alone with Changmin, staring out at the dark sea.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You shrugged, unable to find the right words.

Changmin sat down beside you, the sand cool beneath you. "I know it's scary," he said. "But it's also exciting. We're all going to grow, to learn, to become the people we're meant to be."

"But what if we lose touch?" you asked, finally voicing your biggest fear.

Changmin wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "We won't. We might not see each other every day, but we'll always be there for each other. That's what family does."

His words resonated deep within you. He was right. The Boyz weren't just your friends; they were your family. And family, no matter the distance, always found a way to stay connected.

~~~~

Tags

@bella-feed @sanaxo-o @dokyumms @parkjihoonsnudes @mandmilovehim

[ericshoney]

can i be on your sturniolo taglist?

Hi, yes of course! I'll add you now. Thank you! 💞

[ericshoney]

Pregnancy Prank? ~ Matt Sturniolo

Summary: You and Matt planned to prank Nick and Chris with a fake pregnancy, but what if it's not fake?

Warnings: Possible swearing, nicknames, implied sexual themes, pregnancy, crying, fluff

Reader's age: 21

You and Matt wanted to prank Nick and Chris. It was a classic prank that you had both wanted to do, however, now it was you against all three brothers.

Why?

Because you were actually pregnant.

You stared at the three real pregnancy tests, the fake ones in Matt's room. You were in shock and happy, but wondered how Matt would react.

Before you could process anything else, Matt knocked on the door.

"Baby, you okay in there?" He called.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a sec." You camly replied.

"Alright."

As Matt walked away, you grabbed the three tests of the counter, wrapped them in tissue and slipped them in your back pocket, before leaving the bathroom and heading to Matt's room, where he was sat on his phone.

"Hey, you ready to prank the guys?" He asked.

"Yeah, is the camera ready?" You replied, acting casual.

Matt nodded, grabbing the camera and the fake tests, heading for the living room. You followed behind watching him set up before shouting his brothers.

Soon, Nick and Chris emerged from their rooms, both sharing a look, before sitting on the sofa.

"What's going on?" Chris asked.

"We have some news to share." Matt stated.

Nick and Chris both remained silent as Matt placed the fake tests on the table.

"You're pregnant!" Nick shouted, grabbing the tests.

"Yeah, a Mini Matt is on the way." You smiled, rubbing your stomach.

"Fuck, that's amazing!" Chris shouted, jumping up to hug you both.

You smiled and felt the joyful tears slip down your cheeks. You smiled wide at the trio as they shared a hug, Nick and Chris feeling excited to be uncles.

Matt then turned to you, a cheeky grin on his face, "Should we tell them?" He questioned.

You laughed and pulled out the real tests from your back pocket, holding them up.

"What, that this isn't a prank and I'm actually pregnant?" You called, watching Matt's eyes widen.

"What!" Nick exclaimed.

You laughed and began explaining as you grabbed the camera, "This was going to be a prank, but I'm actually pregnant!"

"I'm actually going to be a dad." Matt whispered in joy.

"That you are, babe." You said, kissing his cheek.

Matt smiled wide, placing his hand over yours, resting on your stomach, clearly happy this prank backfired on him.

Tags:

@lgbtq-girl @mattsfavbigtitties @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sturniolo-fann @mrvlxgrl @lottieluhvs @cl1tlover3000 @melaniesturniolo @lovesturni0l0s @blahbel668  @emely9274 @nicksloverrr @pancjfrjb @luvr4miya @artloo123 @n0aa @sturn-rose @ivysturnss @thetriplets3  @itsjulzandmydiamonds @sturniolos4life16 @courta13 @itsjulzandmydiamonds @sturniologirly @mandmilovehim @slutforchrissturniolo2 @parkjihoonsnudes

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[ericshoney]

Prank gone wrong ~ Avengers

Summary: Your the avengers prankster but as a prank goes wrong you feel guilty and disappear for a while to think about it, worrying the rest of the team.

Warnings: Possible swearing, slight angst, small injury, pranks.

Reader's age: 16

I’ve always been the one to lighten things up in Avengers Tower. At 16, with telekinesis as my not-so-secret weapon, I could make a coffee mug dance across the table or send Tony’s favorite gadget flying into the air just for a laugh. The team tolerated it—heck, they encouraged it. "Keeps us on our toes," Natasha would say with a smirk. But today, that all came crashing down, and I’m left wondering if I’ve finally gone too far.

Avengers Tower was my playground, a massive skyscraper of gleaming glass and high-tech labs, buzzing with energy. The common areas were always alive with chatter—Tony tinkering in his workshop, Thor boasting about Asgard, and Peter, aka Spider-Man, geeking out over the latest tech. Peter was my favourite target. He was just a year older than me, always so earnest and wide-eyed, making him the perfect man for my pranks. We’d bonded over being the "kids" of the group.

It started like any other afternoon. I was lounging on the couch in the main living area, flipping through a comic book with my powers. I’d levitate the pages to turn them without lifting a finger—small stuff, but it made me feel in control. Peter was across the room, practicing his web-slinging in the training simulator. He’d been complaining about how his new web-shooters were "glitchy," so I thought I’d help him out with a little "test."

"Come on, Y/n, you’ve got to see this!" Peter called, swinging from one mock building to another. I grinned, my mind already racing with ideas. Using my telekinesis, I could nudge things without anyone noticing. It was subtle, like a ghost in the machine. I focused on his web-shooters, giving them a gentle psychic push to make the webs shoot at weird angles. Just a harmless prank to make him laugh, right?

At first, it was hilarious. Peter launched a web that stuck to the ceiling fan, spinning him around like a human top. The team erupted in laughter—Clint was doubled over, and even Bruce cracked a smile. "Nice one, kid!" Tony shouted from the doorway, probably recording it for blackmail material later.

But then it went wrong. Terribly wrong. As Peter tried to untangle himself, I pushed a bit too hard, messing with the stabilisers in his suit. The web snapped, and he plummeted toward the floor. I panicked and tried to catch him with my powers, but I was too late. He hit the ground with a thud, his arm twisting at an awkward angle. The room went silent. Peter groaned, clutching his wrist, and when he looked up at me, his eyes weren’t filled with the usual good-nature annoyance. They were hurt. Real hurt.

"Oh my God, Peter, I’m so sorry!" I blurted, rushing over. But he just waved me off, his face pale. "It’s fine, Y/n. Just... give me a sec." The medics arrived quickly—standard protocol—and whisked him away for a check-up. Tony shot me a disapproving glare, and the rest of the team exchanged worried glances. I felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. My stomach twisted into knots. What had I done? It was supposed to be a joke, a way to blow off steam after all the intense training sessions. Instead, I’d hurt my friend.

Guilt hit me like a tidal wave. I couldn’t face them. Not Tony’s disappointed eyes, not Natasha’s knowing stare, not anyone. So, I did what I always do when things get messy—I disappeared. I slipped out of the living area and headed to the tower’s rooftop. It was my secret spot, high above the city, where the wind whipped through my hair and the world felt a little less overwhelming. I could think up there, away from the chaos.

Hours passed, or maybe it was just minutes; time blurred in the haze of my thoughts. I sat on the edge, dangling my legs over the side, using my telekinesis to idly spin a pebble in the air. What if Peter’s injury was serious? What if I’d broken his trust for good? I wasn’t just some kid with powers—I was part of the team. Pranks were my thing, but this wasn’t funny anymore. It was reckless. Stupid. I buried my face in my hands, tears stinging my eyes. "I’m such an idiot," I muttered to the empty sky.

Down in the tower, I knew they’d notice I was gone. The team was like a family, overprotective to a fault. By now, alarms were probably blaring, or at least Tony was tracking my suit’s signal. I didn’t care. I needed space to figure out how to fix this mess.

It wasn’t long before I heard the door to the rooftop creak open. Footsteps approached—heavy, deliberate. I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Steve and Bucky. The old-school heroes, the ones who always saw through the BS.

"Y/n?" Steve’s voice was calm, steady, like it always was. He sat down beside me, his shield leaning against the ledge. Bucky stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his metal one glinting in the fading light.

I wiped my eyes quickly, trying to play it cool. "Hey. What are you guys doing up here?"

Steve didn’t buy it. "We’ve been looking for you. The team’s worried. Peter’s okay—sprained wrist, but he’ll be fine. He’s more upset that you ran off."

Guilt surged again, hot and unrelenting. "I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was just a prank. I thought it would be funny, but... I messed up. Badly."

Bucky knelt down next to us, his expression softer than I expected. "We all make mistakes, kid. Even us old timers. Remember when I accidentally short-circuited Tony’s suit during sparring? He didn’t talk to me for a week."

I managed a weak laugh, but it faded quickly. "Yeah, but you guys save the world. I just... prank people. What if I’m not cut out for this?"

Steve placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm but gentle. "You’re more than that, Y/n. You bring light to this place. But pranks have consequences, especially with powers involved. Peter knows that. He’s not mad at you—he’s just shaken."

I nodded, the weight on my chest easing a little. "I need to apologise. Properly."

Bucky smirked. "Good. And maybe lay off the pranks for a bit. Or at least run them by me first—I’ve got some ideas that are way funnier."

We headed back inside together, the three of us walking in comfortable silence. The tower felt warmer now, less like a fortress and more like home. When I found Peter in the med bay, his arm in a sling, I didn’t hold back. "I’m really sorry, Pete. I swear, no more pranks like that."

He grinned, that easygoing smile returning. "It’s cool. But next time, let’s just play video games instead."

The team welcomed me back with open arms—no lectures, just understanding. Tony even joked about turning my telekinesis into a "prank-proof" app. As I settled into my room that night, I realised something: being the prankster was fun, but being part of the team meant growing up. And for the first time, I felt ready for it.

Tags:

@riowritesitall @mandmilovehim @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @lgbtq-girl @parkjihoonsnudes

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[ericshoney]

Breaking Point ~ Tony Stark

Summary: Tony seems to spend more time inventing rather than being a dad.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending.

Reader's Age: 15

The metallic scent of palladium and burnt circuits was practically my perfume these days. It clung to my clothes, permeated my hair, and was the constant backdrop to my life at Avengers Tower. Dad, or Tony Stark, Iron Man – whichever persona he happened to be sporting at any given moment – was MIA again, lost in the labyrinth of his workshop.

He used to be different. Used to make time for movie nights, even if he spent half the movie tinkering with his arc reactor. He used to help me with my calculus homework, even if his solutions were… unconventional. He used to see me.

Now? I was practically a ghost. He was always down there, hunched over a new suit, muttering to himself about algorithms and repulsor technology. I’d try to talk to him, ask him about his day, about the new Stark Industries initiative, but he’d just offer a distracted “That’s great, honey,” without ever looking up.

It’s not like I needed him to hold my hand or anything. I was fifteen, practically an adult in the accelerated world of the Avengers. But a girl still needs her dad, right? Even if that dad is a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.

The simmering frustration finally boiled over one Tuesday afternoon. I'd spent the morning acing my physics test (thanks, Dad, for the inherited brainpower), and I wanted to share the good news. I found him in his usual spot, surrounded by blueprints and half-assembled robotic arms.

"Hey, Dad," I said, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.

He grunted, eyes glued to a holographic display. "Yeah, Y/n? What's up?"

"I got an A on my physics test."

Another grunt. "Good for you."

"That's it? 'Good for you'?" I crossed my arms, tapping my foot. "I thought you'd be happy."

He sighed, finally turning around. The fatigue etched on his face made me feel guilty for a fraction of a second. "Look, sweetie, I'm a little busy right now. I'm trying to crack this new energy source. It could revolutionise everything."

"So, your metal suits are more important than your own daughter?" The words were out before I could stop them, laced with a bitterness that surprised even me.

His eyes narrowed. "Don't be dramatic, Y/n. You know that's not true."

"Then show me! Act like you care! You're always down here, building more and more suits. Are you trying to replace us all with robots too?" My voice cracked, and I hated how close I was to crying.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He stood up, his voice rising to match mine.

"It means you're never around! It means I feel like I'm talking to a wall! It means…" I choked on the words, tears blurring my vision. "It means I miss you."

The silence that followed was deafening. He stared at me, his expression unreadable. I turned to leave, humiliation burning in my cheeks.

"Y/n, wait."

I didn't stop. I ran. I ran to my room, slammed the door, and collapsed on my bed, letting the sobs wrack my body. I felt utterly alone, lost in the cold, metal fortress my father had built.

Hours later, a soft knock echoed through my room. I ignored it, burying my face in my pillow. The door creaked open.

"Y/n?"

I didn't answer. I just squeezed my eyes shut tighter.

He sat on the edge of my bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. The familiar scent of his cologne, mixed with the metallic tang of his workshop, filled my senses.

"I heard what you said." His voice was soft, almost hesitant. "About missing me."

I stayed silent, refusing to look at him.

"You're right," he continued. "I haven't been around. I've been… consumed. This energy source… it's been an obsession."

He paused, and I could feel his gaze on my back. "I messed up, Y/n. And I'm sorry."

The apology, so rare and genuine, cracked through the wall I’d built around my heart. I turned over, tears still streaming down my face.

"Why, Dad?" I whispered. "Why are the suits so important?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Because… because I'm scared, Y/n. Scared of not being able to protect you." He looked at me, his eyes filled with a vulnerability I rarely saw. "These suits, they're my way of coping. Of trying to control the chaos."

"But you can't control everything," I said, my voice trembling. "And you don't have to do it alone."

He smiled, a small, sad smile. "I know. It's just… hard to remember sometimes."

He reached out and gently wiped away a tear with his thumb. "How about we ditch the suits for tonight? Order some pizza, watch a terrible movie, and you can tell me all about this physics test you aced."

I sniffled, a watery smile spreading across my face. "Deal. But you have to promise to actually watch the movie this time."

"Scout's honor." He stood up, pulling me up with him. "And maybe, just maybe, we can sneak a peek at Pepper's new project. She has been working on something big."

As we walked out of my room, the metallic scent of the tower didn't seem so oppressive anymore. It was still there, a reminder of the chaos and danger that lurked in the world, but it was also a reminder of the father who was trying, in his own flawed, genius way, to protect me. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough. For now.

Tags:

@riowritesitall @mandmilovehim @lgbtq-girl @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @parkjihoonsnudes

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[ericshoney]

Study Buddies ~ Peter Parker

Summary: Whilst studying with Peter, you have some spies making sure nothing bad is going on.

Warnings: Chaos

Reader's Age: 15

The hum of the Avengers Tower vibrated gently through the floor as Y/n, perched on the edge of her bed, chewed on the end of her pen. Physics was not her strong suit. Across from her, Peter, masked in concentration, scribbled furiously in his notebook, occasionally muttering equations under his breath.

"Okay, so potential energy… it's like, stored energy, right?" Y/n asked, her brow furrowed.

Peter looked up, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. "Exactly! Like a stretched rubber band. The further you pull it, the more potential energy it has."

"And kinetic energy is when... it's moving?"

"Bingo! Like when you release that rubber band and it snaps."

Y/n nodded slowly, trying to visualise it. Having Peter, a fellow teen Avenger, as a study buddy was infinitely better than trying to decipher the textbook alone. He had a knack for explaining things in a way that actually made sense.

Unknown to them, just outside Y/n’s reinforced door, a silent comedy of errors was unfolding. The Avengers, in varying degrees of stealth, were attempting to eavesdrop.

Tony Stark, naturally, was in the lead, armed with a ridiculously high-tech listening device that looked suspiciously like a souped-up stethoscope. "Alright, people, quiet! We need to monitor the situation."

"Monitor what situation, exactly, Tony?" Natasha Romanoff drawled, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. "Two teenagers are studying. I hardly think we need a full-scale surveillance operation."

"Oh, come on, Nat," Clint Barton whispered, peeking through the crack in the doorway. "They're fifteen. Hormones are raging. We have a responsibility to ensure… appropriate behaviour."

Steve Rogers, ever the voice of reason, sighed. "Don't you think this is a bit… invasive?"

"Invasive?" Tony scoffed. "I call it proactive parenting. Besides, Happy's on vacation. Someone has to keep an eye on things." He pressed the listening device against the door, then winced. "Ow! My ears! They're actually studying! And Peter's explaining it. He's a good kid."

Inside the room, Peter was demonstrating the principles of kinetic energy with a crumpled-up piece of paper he'd launched across the room. "See? Potential energy, crumpled paper. Kinetic energy, paper being launched! Simple!"

Y/n giggled, snagging the paper and throwing it back. "Okay, okay, I get it! But what about the gravitational constant? That's where I'm really lost."

Outside, the Avengers exchanged uneasy glances. This was far more innocent than they had anticipated.

"Maybe we should… leave them to it?" Steve suggested, already backing away.

But Tony, ever stubborn, shook his head. "No, no. We're committed now. Besides, I want to see if Peter can handle thermodynamics. That's the real test."

He adjusted his stethoscope, inadvertently knocking against the door.

The door creaked open slightly. Y/n, alerted by the noise, spun around. "Hello?"

Tony ducked behind a potted plant, accidentally upending it and sending soil cascading across the hallway. Clint, caught in the crossfire, yelped as dirt went down his shirt. Natasha, maintaining her composure, simply glared at them both.

"Everything alright, Y/n?" Steve called out, his voice betraying a clear lack of conviction.

Y/n opened the door wider, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene. Tony, covered in soil, clutched the broken remains of the potted plant; Clint, brushing frantically at his shirt; Natasha, radiating disapproval; and Steve, looking utterly mortified.

"What… what are you guys doing?" she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.

Peter, emerging from behind her, blinked in surprise. "What's going on?"

The Avengers exchanged panicked glances.

Tony, ever the master of improvisation, cleared his throat. "We were… uh… checking on the… the structural integrity of the doorframe! Yes! We heard a… creaking sound. Safety first, you know."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Right. And the dirt?"

Clint chimed in, "And I was checking the strength of your door lock."

“With dirt?” Y/n said. “You covered yourself with dirt to check the strength of a door lock?”

"Occupational hazard?" Clint offered weakly.

The silence stretched, broken only by the rustling of leaves as the uprooted plant lay on the floor. Then, Y/n couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing.

Peter joined in, quickly understanding the absurdity of the situation.

Even Natasha cracked a small smile.

"Okay, okay," Y/n said, wiping tears from her eyes. "I get it. You guys were spying on us."

Tony, defeated, sighed. "Fine. You caught us. We were just… concerned."

"We trust you both," Steve added quickly. "It was just… well, you know Tony."

Y/n grinned. "Don't worry, I'm not mad. It's actually pretty funny. But next time, maybe just ask if we need anything. We're fine, I promise. Just studying."

"And failing miserably," Peter added with a grin.

"Well, in that case," Tony said, regaining some of his usual swagger, "Maybe I can help. I did invent a few things in my day, you know." He pointed at the scattered dirt. "First, let's get that cleaned up, then maybe a little physics lesson from the man himself."

And so, the Avengers, slightly sheepish but ultimately relieved, trooped into Y/n’s room, leaving their espionage behind. The atmosphere lightened, and for a while, the world's mightiest heroes were just a group of people helping two teenagers navigate the complexities of high school physics. Even if it did involve a lot of dirt.

Tags:

@riowritesitall @mandmilovehim @parkjihoonsnudes @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @lgbtq-girl

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[ericshoney]

In the past ~ Bucky Barnes

Summary: Bucky always seems to avoid you and you needed to know why.

Warnings: Mentions of car crash, HYDRA, slight angst, mild language.

Reader's Age: 16

The Stark Tower wasn't just a monument of metal and glass; it was home. For Y/N Stark, it was a playground, a laboratory, and a slightly chaotic family hub. Being Tony Stark's daughter had its perks. She had access to cutting-edge technology, a practically unlimited supply of snacks, and a front-row seat to superhero shenanigans. The Avengers were her extended, if slightly dysfunctional, family. Steve told dad jokes, Natasha taught her self-defence moves, and Bruce was always willing to help with her science projects.

But there was one Avenger who remained a mystery, a ghost in her otherwise vibrant world: Bucky Barnes. She’d catch glimpses of him in the communal kitchen, grabbing a quick coffee before disappearing, or see him heading towards the training room as she wandered the halls. Each time, he’d acknowledge her with a curt nod, his steel-blue eyes holding a flicker of something unreadable before he'd quickly turn away.

It wasn't that he was unfriendly, exactly. More like…avoidant. The others told her Bucky was a private person, still struggling with his past. But Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling it was more personal than that. She was sixteen, observant, and acutely aware that Bucky avoided her like she was a landmine waiting to explode.

One afternoon, armed with a half-eaten bag of chips and a healthy dose of teenage determination, Y/N decided to confront the mystery. She found Bucky in the library, a space usually deserted, lost in the pages of a worn leather-bound book.

Taking a deep breath, she approached. "Hey, Bucky," she said, trying for a casual tone.

He looked up, startled, the book snapping shut in his hands. That unreadable look flickered in his eyes again, quickly masked by a carefully neutral expression. "Y/N."

"I was just wondering," she began, trying to ignore the sudden dryness in her mouth, "why you always, like, avoid me?"

Silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the hum of the Tower's ventilation system. Bucky’s jaw tightened. He looked away, towards the cityscape visible through the panoramic window.

"It's not personal," he finally said, his voice gruff.

Y/N scoffed, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet room. "Yeah, right. That's what everyone says. But you literally run the other way when you see me coming. Is it something I did? Did I accidentally insult your favourite hat or something?"

"I feel guilty." Bucky blurted out.

Guilty? Did you eat my cereal? Use my shampoo? What have you got to feel guilty about, you're a super soldier!" Y/n exclaimed.

Bucky sighed and looked up at the young girl, a spitting image of her father, a reminder of everything he did.

"Did Tony ever tell you about his parents?" He questioned.

"He said they died in a car crash when he was fairly young when they passed and that he wanted to be a better father than his ever was." She answered with a casual shrug.

Upon hearing her response, Bucky felt even more guilty. She didn't know the true reason for their death, meaning this conversation was going to be even harder, a conversation he thought he'd never had to have.

"Bucky your doing that intense staring thing again. Look if you're just going to feed me some bullshit, I'm just gonna go." She said, ready to leave the quiet room.

"I'm the reason your grandparents are dead. I killed them." He confessed, studying the girls face for any sign of anger, hate or sadness.

"Was that at a time HYDRA had you?" She asked carefully, knowing the trauma was still there.

Bucky nodded silently, making the teenager sigh. She went and sat next to the ex-assassin and gave him a soft smile, "I'm not angry Bucky, I can't be."

"Your...not?" He called.

"No. I can't be. I didn't know them, it was such a long time ago and honestly from the stories dad has told me, Howard Stark wasn't the warmest person." She chuckled.

Bucky let out a small chuckle too, something that seemed to warm Y/n's heart. Something that made all her anxieties and worries about the man fade away.

"So can you not avoid me? Can we agree it's in the past?" She offered.

"Deal, mini Stark."

Tags:

@parkjihoonsnudes @riowritesitall @mandmilovehim @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @lgbtq-girl

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[ericshoney]

Stark's Wit~ Tony Stark

Summary: You're not the best at hand-to-hand combat, but your the second best Stark with sarcastic responses.

Warnings: Platonic nicknames, possible swearing, sarcastic humour.

Reader's Age: 18

The biting wind whipped around Y/n as she stood on the training platform, a scowl etched on her face. Sparring with super soldiers in January was not her idea of a fun Friday afternoon. Especially when all she had to defend herself was the Stark family arsenal of sarcasm.

“Alright, kid, you ready?” Steve, radiating earnest encouragement, adjusted his gloves. Beside him, Bucky simply stared, his metal arm gleaming dully in the overcast light. Sam hovered behind them, a wry grin on his face. He knew how this usually went.

"Born ready, Captain Rogers," Y/n quipped, her voice dripping with irony. "Just try not to break anything too important. Dad would have a conniption if his precious lab assistant came back in pieces."

Steve winced. He still wasn't entirely used to Y/n's… bluntness. "We'll be careful, Y/n. This is just for practice."

"Practice for what? The Super Soldier Olympics?" She rolled her eyes. "Last time I checked, my skill set leaned more towards coding and caffeine addiction, not hand-to-hand combat."

Bucky finally spoke, his voice gruff. "Everyone needs to know how to defend themselves, Stark. Especially with your… family history."

That hit a little too close to home. Y/n tightened her jaw. "Right, because I specifically asked to be born into a world of interdimensional travel, rogue AI, and sentient purple grapefruits. My bad."

Steve sighed and stepped forward. "Alright, enough talking. Let's see what you've got."

The next few minutes were, to put it mildly, humiliating. Steve, ever the gentleman, pulled his punches, but even he couldn't help but land a few glancing blows. Bucky, predictably, was less restrained. His metal arm was like a battering ram, and Y/n found herself mostly dodging and weaving, her reflexes surprisingly sharp despite her lack of formal training.

"Having fun yet?" Sam called out, leaning against the railing.

"Oh, I'm having a ball, Sam," Y/n gasped, narrowly avoiding Bucky's fist. "This is exactly how I pictured spending my Friday: getting pummeled by a century-old assassin. Living the dream, really."

She managed to duck under Steve’s arm and deliver a swift kick to his shin. It wasn’t exactly a knockout blow, but it was enough to make him stumble.

"Not bad, Y/n," Steve said, rubbing his leg. "You're getting faster."

"Years of dodging Dad's bad science puns have honed my reflexes," she retorted, then spun to face Bucky, who was advancing with a predatory gleam in his eye. "Alright, Tin Man, let's dance!"

Bucky lunged. This time, Y/n tried a different tactic. As he swung his metal arm, she sidestepped and grabbed a handful of his long hair, yanking him off balance.

"Whoa! Hey!" Bucky sputtered, momentarily disoriented.

"Sorry, Barnes! Didn't know you were so sensitive about your 'vintage chic' hairstyle," Y/n said, releasing him and darting away.

Sam burst out laughing. Even Steve cracked a smile. Bucky, however, wasn't amused. He charged again, his movements less precise, fueled by irritation.

Y/n knew she couldn't keep this up forever. She was already winded, and her sarcasm reserves were starting to run dry. As Bucky cornered her near the edge of the platform, she knew she was out of options.

"Okay, okay, I surrender!" she yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. "Uncle! Mercy! I admit defeat! You win, metal arm! You’re the best at… uh… arming metal-ly! Yeah, that’s the one.”

Bucky stopped, his expression a mixture of annoyance and begrudging amusement. “You’re impossible, Stark.”

“That’s what my therapist keeps telling me,” Y/n said, panting. She collapsed onto a nearby bench, gathering her breath.

Steve clapped her on the shoulder. "You did well, Y/n. You're quick, and you think on your feet. You just need to work on your… offensive capabilities."

"My offense is impeccable," Y/n said, gesturing to Bucky. "Just ask him. I practically incapacitated him with my devastating wit."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, well, wit doesn't exactly stop a bullet."

"True," Y/n conceded. "But it can annoy someone enough that they forget what they were going to do in the first place. That's a defense mechanism in itself, right?"

She looked up at their faces, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes. They were her dad’s friends, family even. And despite the inherent strangeness of having super soldiers trying to turn her into a miniature Avenger, she knew they cared.

Steve, ever the optimist, gave her a reassuring smile. "It's a start, Y/n. We'll keep working on it."

"Great," Y/n said, her sarcasm returning full force. "Just promise me one thing: next time, can we at least do this in a heated environment? And maybe with a pizza? I'm pretty sure I can weaponize pepperoni."

Bucky rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile playing on his lips. Even he had to admit, Y/n Stark, with her sharp tongue and Stark-brand stubbornness, was growing on him. Even if she did almost pull his hair out. He smirked, “I’d pay to see that.”

As the three men began to pack up, Y/n pulled out her phone. Time to order that pizza. And maybe send Dad a text. Something along the lines of: 'Almost got murdered by Bucky today. Send backup (and maybe a new shield design. Sarcasm-proof, preferably).

Tags:

@parkjihoonsnudes @riowritesitall @mandmilovehim @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @lgbtq-girl

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[ericshoney]

Maverick ~ The Boyz

Summary: You are a part of an organisation called Maverick with a group of eleven chaotic boys.

Warnings: Mild action

The biting wind whipped at my face as I perched on the rooftop, the city sprawling below me like a chaotic tapestry of light and shadow. My breath plummeted in the frigid air, and I clenched my gloved hands, trying to ignore the tremor of adrenaline. Beside me, Sangyeon, our leader, adjusted his comms, his face illuminated by the faint glow of his earpiece.

"Everyone in position?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

Static crackled in my ear, followed by a cacophony of voices. "Ready and eager!" Younghoon's cheerful tone was instantly identifiable. "About to give these guards a reason to stretch their legs."

"Hyunjae's already charmed half the staff into looking the other way," Jacob added, his voice warm and smooth. "Smooth operator, Hyunjae."

"Focus, Jacob!" Sangyeon chided, but a smile played on his lips. That was Maverick, after all. Eleven ridiculously talented, fiercely loyal, and utterly chaotic boys, and me, the (arguably) sane glue holding them together.

We were Maverick, a covert organization specializing in… acquiring things. Tonight, our objective was a heavily guarded prototype for a new energy source, rumored to be unstable and potentially dangerous in the wrong hands. We had been tracking its development for months.

"Y/n, you're up," Sangyeon said, snapping me back to the mission. "Distraction at the main entrance. Remember the plan."

"Always," I retorted, jumping to my feet. Plan A involved a carefully orchestrated "incident" designed to draw security away from the rear entrance, where the rest of the team would breach the facility.

I rappelled down the side of the building, landing softly in the alleyway below. A quick check of my disguise - maintenance worker uniform, check; believable demeanor, hopefully - and I strode towards the main entrance.

"Excuse me," I called out to the security guard, feigning confusion. "I seem to have tripped the sprinkler system. Any idea where the shut-off valve is?"

He blinked, momentarily stunned. "Sprinkler system? No, ma'am. It's not scheduled to be tested tonight."

That was my cue. I pulled a small device from my belt and pressed a button. Instantly, a geyser of water erupted from the roof, drenching the parking lot and sending security scrambling.

Chaos erupted. Perfect.

"Maverick, go, go, go!" I yelled into my comm, adrenaline surging through me.

The next few minutes were a blur of controlled mayhem. I dodged bewildered guards, slipped past security cameras, and disabled alarms with practiced ease. The boys were a symphony of coordinated action. Juyeon's unmatched agility allowed him to navigate the laser grids, while Kevin's technical prowess bypassed the digital security systems. Changmin, with his innate ability to blend in, acted as a ghost, moving unseen through the corridors. Haknyeon, surprisingly strong for his size, cleared obstacles and kept the path clear.

Suddenly, Sunwoo's voice crackled in my ear, urgent. "Y/n, we have a problem! Second security team on route to the lab. They're fast."

"Eric, divert them!" I snapped. Eric possessed an uncanny ability to anticipate enemy movements.

"On it!" He responded, his voice brimming with confidence. A moment later, the alarms blared again, this time signaling a false fire in the cafeteria.

With the second security team distracted, we were back on track. I reached the lab just as they were securing the prototype, a pulsating sphere of energy contained within a reinforced glass case. Chanhee, our resident lock-picking expert, was already working on the door panel.

"Almost there," he muttered, his fingers flying across the keypad.

Suddenly, the door hissed open, and we poured into the lab. The scientists inside looked up, startled, as we moved to secure the prototype.

That's when it happened. One of the scientists, panicked, lunged for a control panel. A high-pitched whine filled the air, and the prototype began to glow with an unnatural intensity.

"The energy signature is spiking!" Kevin yelled. "Get out! It's going to overload!"

Panic clawed at my throat. We had to move. Now.

"Everyone, out! Sangyeon, evacuate the building!" I shouted, shoving the scientists towards the door.

The prototype pulsed again, brighter this time. I grabbed the case, ignoring the burning sensation in my hands, and sprinted towards the exit.

We barely made it. As we reached the parking lot, the lab exploded in a blinding flash of light and a deafening roar. The force of the blast knocked us off our feet, but thankfully, we were far enough away to avoid serious injury.

Lying on the asphalt, coughing and disoriented, I looked around. Everyone was accounted for, slightly singed but alive.

Sangyeon helped me to my feet, his face grim. "We got it, but that was too close. We need to shut this thing down before it does any more damage."

I nodded, clutching the prototype case to my chest. The mission was far from over, but we had survived. We were Maverick. And we would handle this, together, come hell or high water, or… unstable energy source. Now, we just needed to figure out what to do with it.

~~~~

Tags:

@sanaxo-o @bella-feed @dokyumms @parkjihoonsnudes

[ericshoney]

The Winter Soldier's Cold Shower ~ Bucky Barnes

Summary: You decide that Bucky needs to lighten up, so a prank is in order.

Warnings: Possible swearing

Reader's age: 16

The hum of Avengers Tower was a constant background noise to your life. At sixteen, being the youngest Avenger (courtesy of her rather peculiar energy manipulation abilities), you were both a superhero and a bored teenager. Tony Stark kept trying to get you to focus your energy on inventing new technologies. Steve Rogers kept pushing you to study harder. But right now, you only had one thing on your mind: Operation Winter Prank.

Your target? Bucky Barnes, a man who was both intimidating and, surprisingly, easily flustered. He was also an easy target, since he had no idea what a 'prank' even was.

The idea had come to you during a particularly dull training session. Bucky, attempting to teach you hand-to-hand combat, had been lecturing you on discipline and focus. That’s when the devilish idea sparked in your mind.

You spent the next few hours carefully planning the scheme. You scavenged the tower for supplies: plastic wrap, blue food dye, and a remote control you'd fished out of a broken Stark Industries robot. The hardest part was evading FRIDAY, the AI, who was constantly monitoring your movements and reporting back to Tony. But you were resourceful, and learned to time your activities during Tony's meetings.

Yuor plan was simple: turn Bucky's shower water freezing cold and dye it a vivid shade of blue. He’d be expecting his usual hot water, and the sudden icy blast would be… well, hilarious, at least to you.

The biggest challenge was accessing Bucky's bathroom. He valued his privacy, a remnant of his days as the Winter Soldier. After a lot of waiting, you saw him head to the training room with Steve. This was her chance.

Slipping through the corridors, you used your energy to temporarily disable the security camera outside Bucky's door. With nimble fingers, you picked the lock – a skill you'd picked up from Clint, who swore he wasn't teaching you anything illegal.

Inside, the bathroom was meticulously organized, as if Bucky's need for control extended beyond his own body. You bypassed the water heater valve with the skill of a seasoned plumber. You then pulled out the blue dye, and carefully poured it into the shower head.

Finally, you attached the remote control to the temperature regulator. A quick test proved it worked perfectly. With a grin, you reset the security camera, slipped out of the bathroom, and re-locked the door. Mission accomplished.

Now, all that was left was the agonizing wait. You positioned yourself in the common area, pretending to study a textbook. You could hear the distant grunts and thuds of the training session. Every few minutes, you glanced at the clock.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Bucky emerged from the gym, sweat glistening on his forehead. He headed straight for his room.

You held your breath. This was it.

A few minutes later, a surprised yell echoed down the hallway, followed by a string of muffled curses that would have made Captain America faint.

You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. You could practically picture Bucky standing under the frigid, blue water, his metal arm probably freezing over.

Steve, alerted by the commotion, rushed into the hallway, a concerned expression on his face. "Bucky? What's wrong?"

Bucky emerged from his room, dripping wet, his face a mixture of confusion and outrage. He was shivering, his dark hair plastered to his forehead. "The shower... it's... blue," he sputtered, "And freezing!"

Steve looked at him, then at you, whose laughter was barely contained. Understanding dawned on his face. He turned to you a mixture of amusement and disapproval in his eyes. "Y/n…"

"It was just a prank!" You said, trying to sound innocent. "He needs to lighten up a little!"

Bucky glared at you, his eyes narrowed. "Prank?" he repeated, the word sounding foreign and slightly threatening in his mouth.

Suddenly, Tony zoomed into the room, drawn by the noise. "What's all the hubbub? Did someone break something important?" He took one look at Bucky, soaking wet and blue-tinged, and burst into laughter. "Oh, this is gold! Y/N, you're a genius!"

Tony, of course, made things worse. Bucky looked like he was about to short circuit.

Before Bucky could formulate a proper response, You decided to make a tactical retreat. "Gotta go!" You called, grabbing your textbook and sprinting towards the elevator.

As the doors closed, you could hear Bucky's voice, low and dangerous. "Y/N… get back here!"

You just grinned. Operation Winter Prank: success. Though you knew you'd probably be doing extra cleaning duty for the next month, it was totally worth it. After all, what was life in Avengers Tower without a little bit of chaos? And besides, you had a feeling this was just the beginning of your prank war with the Winter Soldier. The thought made your anticipation run high.

Tags:

@parkjihoonsnudes @riowritesitall @mandmilovehim @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @lgbtq-girl

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[ericshoney]

Language ~ Steve Rogers

Summary: You had picked up a bad habit of swearing and Steve liked to remind you about your language.

Warnings: Swearing, teasing, fluff

Reader's age : 15

The satisfying thwack of hammer on nail echoed in the barn - Clint's barn - a rhythmic counterpoint to the chirping crickets and the distant rumble of thunder. I was finally getting around to fixing the loose planks on the old fence, a task I’d been procrastinating for weeks. The wood was stubborn, warped and weathered, and my patience was wearing thin.

"Shit" I grunted, slamming the hammer down, missing the nail entirely. It skittered across the wood and landed with a soft clink in the hay. Why did I agree to helping around the place?

“Language, sweetheart,” Steve's voice, calm and patient, cut through the evening air. He was leaning against the barn door, arms crossed, a small smile playing on his lips. He looked like he'd stepped out of a Rockwell painting, all wholesome with his slightly rumpled hair and gentle blue eyes.

I sighed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "I know, I know. Bad habit. Working on it."

"Need a hand?" He offered, pushing himself off the door frame.

I chewed on my lip, debating. On one hand, I appreciated the help. On the other, his presence was a constant reminder of my burgeoning vocabulary of expletives. Ever since that disastrous road trip with Bucky and Sam, where I'd picked up their colorful phrasing like a kid collecting seashells, my language had gone downhill. And Steve, bless his heart, was determined to steer me back on course.

"I think I've got it," I said, picking up another nail. This time, I hit it squarely, driving it deep into the wood. "Just...frustrated."

"I understand," Steve said, watching me work. "It can be. But frustration doesn't excuse the… colourful descriptions.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. "It's just a word, Steve."

"Words have power, kid" he countered, his gaze serious. "They can build up or tear down. And frankly, hearing you talk like that… it doesn't sound like you."

I hammered in another nail, a little harder than necessary. "Old habits die hard, Cap. Especially when you're dealing with stubborn planks and equally stubborn friends."

He didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he picked up a piece of scrap wood and began whittling it with his pocketknife. "Maybe you need a punishment jar. Every time you swear, you put a dollar in it."

"A dollar?" I scoffed. "At the rate I'm going, that jar will be overflowing in a week. I don't have that much money!"

"Then that's motivation to stop, isn't it?" He looked up, his eyes twinkling. "Think of the good you could do with all that money. Donate it to a charity. Buy new tech. Anything but…" he paused, searching for the right word, "…corrupt your vocabulary."

"Blame Bucky and Sam." I muttered, earning a soft chuckle from the solider.

Steve appeared next to me, looking over at my work. He gave me a caring smile and rested a hand on my shoulder.

"Come on, dinner will be ready soon. Can't have the youngest Avenger missing out." He teased.

You chuckled and put down your tools, following the brotherly-figure to the main house, ready to face the chaos of dinner.

Tags:

@riowritesitall @mandmilovehim

Dividers by: @issysh3ll