#& BLACK WIDOW ➳ LIKES

[critter-of-habit]

IronMan2! Black Widow but with her hair tied back

[mysticdevils]

avengers + name meanings

“‘cause if we can’t protect the earth, you can be damn sure we’ll avenge it.”

[sunderwight]

Thinking about Black Widow Luo Binghe.

Hear me out -- so just like in canon, Shen Qingqiu self-destructs to save Luo Binghe, dies, and Luo Binghe steals his body to put on ice while he looks for methods to resurrect him. But unlike in canon, staving off decomposition is simply not that doable for a matter of years, even with cultivation and Luo Binghe pouring qi into the process. The qi costs are still high, so is Xin Mo, and now Binghe also needs a special artifact that can actually preserve Shen Qingqiu, but that runs on blood sacrifices.

To get the thing working, Luo Binghe feeds it a bunch of prisoners from the Water Prison. Then he starts kidnapping cultivators to drain for his own qi reserves, but that's difficult, controversial, and he can't use the same victims for the blood sacrifice afterwards. Frankly, between one thing and another it would be easier to satisfy Xin Mo with dual cultivation, and focus on finding victims for Shizun's Snow White style glass preservation coffin without having to choose between using targets for one or the other. Especially given that, if he finesses it, Luo Binghe can extend the use of his sacrifices and get more out of them with fewer deaths that way.

He's pretty sure that Shizun would want fewer deaths.

Of course, he is not a fan of the logistics of the plan itself, but he'd do worse things to one day be reunited. He consoles himself that he's building up bedroom experience for one day being with Shen Qingqiu, and that it doesn't really count because his heart's not really in it, and also if Shizun got to spend all that time in brothels then it's only fitting that Luo Binghe be his equal in this as well. It still doesn't make it pleasant for him, but it makes him able to tolerate the necessity of it.

So Luo Binghe ends up marrying a string of rich and powerful figures -- mostly the villainous single fathers and mothers and evil uncles of harem members from PIDW, rather than their daughters -- and coming up with creative ways of making all their deaths a few months into the process look like accidents. After the third one people are undeniably wary of marrying him, but there's always someone with a big enough ego to think they'll be an exception, or stupid enough to believe that it really has just been so much bad luck up to that point. It helps that the universe is predisposed to let him hit it.

When SY wakes up in the shroom body and hears about Luo Binghe's succession of marriages, he's not surprised. What he is surprised by is the bisexual graveyard of toxic dilfs and milfs that has replaced the harem.

What did he do to cause that?!

And what does Luo Binghe mean that he wants to marry his own shizun now? Is this his new method of revenge??? Binghe, you don't have to marry someone to kill them!

[amelia-mariee]

remember how we thought black widow (2021) was going to be the darkest mcu movie, but then after the really well-done opening credits montage, the movie stopped being dark, and then two years later, a silly little Guardians of the Galaxy movie ended up being the movie where every person I’ve talked to said that they were deeply upset by it and they cried 6 times and that it was the most beautiful marvel movie in years and 100% the darkest movie that the mcu has ever made and was surprisingly gory and had the mcu’s first f-bomb and i even openly wept in a movie theater for the first time since avengers: endgame and there were points where i could just hear everyone crying and

[lefthandarm-man]

Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanoff The Avengers (2012)

matching each others freak

[younswnn]

[Nat and her daughter (Y/n) on parents day at school.]

Teacher : Okay! Now, how about words that ends with -ie!

Student 1 : Sweetie!

Student 2 : Cutie!

Teacher : Those are very good! Anyone else?

Y/n, without looking up, brushing her Barbie’s hair with a strange smile : Die.

Teacher : [looks at Natasha]

Nat, getting weird looks from the other parents, trying to save the situation : Or you could say Barbie, Y/n.

Y/n whilst taking off her Barbie’s head : Die.

[jesbiblesworld]

If you're the type that genuinely gets upset that bl actors are in relationships with ppl other than their on screen partners, I need yall to (and I'm gonna touch your hand when I say this), find new hobbies outside of bl. Y'all have let yourselves get entirely too invested in these men to the point where you get genuinely upset and heartbroken, even ANGRY over them having other relationships, and that's not normal. None of them are doing anything wrong and treating a "dating scandal" the same as if they were found to kick puppies and punch orphans in their spare time is fuckin absurd

[wlwloverwrites]

Sub!Nat smut now:))

a/n: I should be working and studying for my finals, but this seemed more important. Something short for all my lovers.

Warnings: failed attempted at 69ing which slowly just turns into (reversed?) face sitting, light praise kink, oral sex, mentions of biting, smut 18+

Main Masterlist

Lover Hour Masterlist

You hiss against her thighs when you feel Natasha’s teeth sink into a small part of your inner thigh. You are close to nudging her off your thigh, but she is quick to lick the sting away, a silent and wet sorry. She peppers light kisses on your thighs, switching between the left and right one. You can’t help but sigh against the heaven pressed so close to your face. Her calves sandwich your head between her thighs and you swear you hear a quiet moan when your tongue licks a stripe from her puffy clit to her leaking hole.

“Feels good,” Natasha sighs, completely forgetting about your prior agreement. It was a joke at first, something along the lines of ‘I’ll eat you if you eat me.’ You knew this would happen, but she forbids you from calling her out. Natasha Romanoff is somewhat a pillow princess. It’s a secret she forced you to swear you’d take to your grave.

“Yeah, baby?” You tease, digging your fingers in her the flesh of her ass and spread her apart.

Her breathless ‘yes’ is cut off by a whiney moan when you blow air against her glistening pussy. Before she can complain, because you know she is about to complain, you use your grip on her ass to pull her onto your mouth. You waste no time, you lick everything she has to offer. Burying yourself between her thighs until there is no room to breathe. The pleasure is consuming for both you and Natasha.

You could not ask to be in a better position.

Is it a little hard to breathe? Yes.

Is your neck going to be a bit sore tomorrow? Yes.

Is the love of your life who is currently sitting on your face worth the soreness and lightheadedness? Thousand percent yes.

“Oh fuck.”

You can barely hear her whimpers and moans but you know they are getting more frequent with the way she is spilling onto your tongue, feeding the greed your tastebuds have.

You can’t help but smile against her clit when you feel Natasha practically go limp on top of you. She truly is made to look pretty on a bunch of pillows. Problem is this makes it a bit hard for you to do your work.

Light, repetitive taps on Natasha’s outer thighs bring her out of her empty head. You hum against her skin, letting your fingertips weightlessly drag over her skin.

“Natty, baby?”

“What’s wrong?” She has now transferred all her weight from your face to your torso. Her head is perfectly cushioned using your thighs as pillows.

“Need you to do something for me.”

“Oh, I’ll do it n-”

“No, I could care less about that,” You swear you hear her sigh in relief before you continue. What a pillow princess. “Need you sit up right and ride my face.”

Natasha holds her breath for a few seconds. She knows you know that she doesn’t like putting in the work, but she also knows whenever she does you treat her good.

Your tongue finds itself licking her clean again when you don’t get an answer. “Can you do that for me, Natty?”

In a span of a few seconds and some convincing licks, Natasha’s head is no longer resting your thighs, instead her head is tilted back. Surprisingly, she is sitting upright; she careful to not put all her weight on your face. Her hands, which are on each of your thighs, brace herself and she pays no attention to the pain her nails instill in the meat of your thighs. Surely there will be marks tomorrow, but you know she’s sorry.

“Good job, baby.”

You silently tell her to start moving her hips with your grip on thighs. Reluctantly, she starts to grind her hips against your mouth. You lay there with your mouth open wide and tongue sticking out. Natasha whines particularly loud when you move your tongue towards her hole. Her hips want to freeze, tired and lazy but your words of encouragement keep her from doing so.

“Come on, Natty. Don’t you want me to fuck you with my tongue?”

Your words work almost as well as shot of espresso. Her hips are quick to work her body up and down, chasing her climax, but they are still lazy. Her hands go up to her breasts. Her hands grip each one to stop them from bouncing. Before she knows it she is playing with both nipples, whimpering even louder. You can picture her, filthy and whiny.

“I- Fuck.”

Awkwardly, your hand finds its way between her thighs. You make sure to not move too much given the woman on top of you is very close to begging to come. You want to laugh at the gasp of air she sucks in when your thumb finds her clit.

You already know.

Natasha’s brain is fuzzy. There isn’t a single thought —besides maybe being mad at you for making her ride your face— in her head. She is preoccupied with the pleasure she feels. Her eyes are rolled back, her nipples are sore from her own torture, and her pussy is clenching on your tongue.

“Can I come?”

Your thumb moves a little faster.

“Oh shit. Can I? Please.”

You let out a loud hum, making her hip jerk and then making her squeeze out a breathless ‘thank you’ and moan. She gushes all over your tongue. The taste of her fills your mouth, easing the greed your buds had. This pleasure is even more consuming causing her body falls onto of yours, bringing her clit even closer to your lips. Ignoring her obvious need to catch her breath and take a break, you lick her throbbing clit. She whines when you don’t stop. She falls apart on your tongue a second time. You don’t stop licking until she finally pulls away from your loose grip on her thighs.

She turns her body to lay next to you. Boneless and breathless, her hands go up to cover her eyes, overwhelmed. You swear you hear her let out a curse when she finally catches her breath. Natasha giggles when she hears you sit up.

“Did you like it?” You whisper against her skin. You climb on top of her, dragging your lips from her pelvis to her chest. You pepper light kisses on her each of her breasts befroe heading to her neck.

“Mhmm. Loved it,” Natasha hums happily, tilting her head to the side go give you better access to the sensitive spot on the underside of her jaw.

“See what happens when you put in a little more work?”

“Actually I hated that part.”

“Such a princess.”

“Hey!”

[headcanonthings]

Bucky: When I was a kid, I always wanted to be a magician. Steve: Tell them why you stopped? Bucky: I... I almost cut someone in half with a saw. Tony: What the fuck?? Sam: What kind of kid were you? Bucky: I didn't know a magician was fake! I thought they were real! That's why I didn't become one. Natasha: That's why?? Bruce: Not you nearly cutting a kid in half?! Bucky: The kid was fine. My dad stopped me before I could hurt him. Tony: Poor guy. At least he's safe from you now. Bucky: Huh? He's standing right beside me. Steve: I'm the kid. Bruce: And you still ended up being best friends?! Sam: I take it back. What's wrong with the both of you?!

[critter-of-habit]

okay focusing on NATASHA when Peggy and Steve were reuniting was really a choice wasn't it

[lesbiandardevil]

bugs when you lift up a rock

[ironspidersblog]

The shawarma scene is unmatched. Give me more of the avengers in full gear showing up in random places because they’re just wanting a snack. I love it

[loosethreadsofyoursoul]

while i will always love and appreciate the bisexual dean winchester agenda, i truly believe that if he was raised differently—or maybe if he grew up today instead—that boy would have been gay. like his love for women in a romantic/sexual context was always such a caricature and was continuously used as a symbol of masculinity that played against the roles assigned to him by his father growing up for the sake of suppressing any queerness he might exhibit. now whether that suppression was purposely written into his character or was a reaction to the character they had created, i’m not sure, but it’s there regardless.

i don’t mean to dismiss the love he felt for cassie or lisa, but particularly with lisa, i’m not sure he was ever in love with her, despite the fact that he did care for both her and ben. i get so frustrated watching the end of s5 because him going to her house and his perfect “apple pie life” being with her in suburbia genuinely came out of nowhere and i’ve never understood a) why it had to happen, and b) why it had to be lisa. but thinking about it in this sense, she was the closest thing he had in his life to everything he was raised to believe he should want by one john winchester, who lost his perfect wife, perfect family, perfect apple pie life and sent all of them down this path in the first place. so of course to dean, his happy ending would be with someone like lisa. but that’s the important part. someone like lisa, not lisa herself. he may have had love for her and he may have been able to picture a life with her, but it wasn’t necessarily because she was everything he wanted; she was a symbol of the things that tore his family apart and so to be with her felt like he was finally able to put some of it back together. and that makes me so sad for him because all of that is a result of the sense of responsibility ingrained in him growing up by john, not something he wanted for himself.

but back to his general attitude towards women, there was an excellent post that said he only acts like the typical womanizer he has a reputation for being around women deemed “stereotypical” by the misogynistic perspective. otherwise, he tends to take on a fairly brotherly role; he doesn’t tend to pursue any women he can “take seriously,” and is more intimidated or impressed by them than anything else. with the exception of cassie (which was pre-series and we never got full context for in the first place), he only ever pursued women with whom he would have a definitive ending—by that i mean women who he knows he’ll never see again or who would have a clearly defined role during the time they’re together that wouldn’t threaten the status quo. and yes these could also be the traits of a commitment-phobe or someone chronically on the move, but for one, sam doesn’t tend to do the same thing (see ruby, amelia, and eileen), and for two, given the things i mentioned already, it makes me consider it more of a result of him not actually being interested in women romantically.

his reaction to women when not purposely used as the butt of a joke or to perpetuate the “womanizer dean winchester” agenda is often so innately fraternal, caring in a way that doesn’t have any expectations behind it. and when there is a romantic context, so much of the relationship can be attributed to the way john raised him and the beliefs he has as a direct result; it’s never simply been built on the foundation of love.

every time he is dismissed as this macho het guy, it also dismisses so much of what makes him a wonderful character, and yes a lot of that is his queerness. so in a world where he didn’t grow up with roles and responsibilities that shaped him into someone he knew his dad hated and forced him to create this character for himself in order to survive? i think he would have been gay and he would have been okay with that.

[lefthandarm-man]

Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanoff Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014)

[hyperfixiation-station]

Hi!!

I am totally obsessed with your fics!!! Your writing 🤌💕

I just wanted to request a fic where the reader is new to the task force but she's experienced and tough. Vibez similar to Ghost to elaborate she's more scary than Ghost cuz of her past maybe she was experimented on or trained brutally....

Reader is working hard to prove herself even if everyone knows she's the most lethal person. So one time she gets injured badly while protecting someone from the 141( probably Ghost 👉👈) and she wakes up has an emotional moment Ghost comes know about her Trauma . More like hurt/comfort....

Happy Writing 💝

Guilt-Tripped

CW: Mentions/references of kidnapping, torture, canon typical violenece Part 2, Part 3 Hiii Anon!! First off, thank you! Secondly, I am so, so, so sorry for how long this took😭 I did make this a two parter, the first part is kinda like backstoryish and the second part will be the actual story. I was gonna wait until I finished both to post but you have been waiting for way to long so I'll give you the first part now instead of waiting, again I am so sorry! I hope you like it :)) Summary: F!Reader was a part of a special program(LMK if you can guess what it is) and once she was released she joined the military.

WC: 1467 As always, I didn't proof read so lmk if there are any mistakes :3

Life had not been kind to you. Ripped from your family at a very young age, you had never known the type of love and safety a nurturing home could provide. Instead, you grew up in the confines of a Russian base, with cruel instructors and a dwindling group of girls as your only companions.

From the moment you could walk, you had been told you were a weapon. A lethal force to be honed and trained, nothing more than a tool for others to use to further their games. Brainwashed, tortured, and trained into submission, a perfect puppet. Both your brain and body were sculpted into absolute perfection, a rigorous process most people did not survive. By day, they trained to be a lethal force, an unstoppable, unnoticeable, killing machine. At night, you were handcuffed to your bed, listening to the screams of students who did not make the cut.(to this day you sleep handcuffed)

You watched, at first in horror, then with a sense of detachment, as your friendsrivals bit the dust, unable to keep up with what the program demanded of them. It got better as you got older, less girls died from their tasks. But in some ways it got worse. It was a competition now, a fight to see who would remain victorious, to see who would come out on top. It was not a place for friendship and comradery, and you learned that quickly.

You stopped trying to make friends with the other students when you were forced to shoot your best friend in the head after giving her some of your dinner when she was being punished. You were 8. And you stopped trying to even just be friendly with the other girls at 10 years old, when the instructor broke every bone in your hands after your bunkmate framed you for something you didn't do. To this day your hands are not the same, always hurting and forever scarred.

Your world was kill or be killed, and you'd be dammed if you didn't come out on top.

And come out on top you did. You graduated top of your class, a position you had fought and killed for, won through bloodshed and pain. If you had a conscience, it would have been screaming at you for the things you had done to get to the top(You laid awake every night consumed by guilt and grief)

The program was disbanded(re: destroyed) when you hit 18, just two weeks after your 'graduation'. You were given two options: Join the American military, or face a life sentence in prison. 

You had a lifetime of sins to atone for, and knew there was only one way to even begin to ease your guilt. Two days later your background was sealed up and you were shipped off to boot camp. 

And you excelled. This was nothing to you. What was a six mile run when you used to run until you passed out, then wake up and keep going? What was surviving on four hours of sleep when sleep deprivation had been the norm your whole life? What was any of this compared to what you had been forced to do everyday since you were five? 

You scared your instructors. And the other recruits. And everyone else you came into contact with. And you were fine with that. You didn't like when people got close to you anyhow.

Love got you nowhere in the world. It was a lesson you learned hard and fast. You did not care for others, they did not care for you. And you liked it that way. Until you met the 141.

A woman named General Laswell came to you one day with a job offer. Well, not a job offer exactly, but more of a…transfer of positions. A small, (mostly)four-man team that she oversaw.

You had gotten disciplined for beating the ever-loving shit out of a recruit the week before, and Laswell had watched it all unfold. She went back to her office, read your full file, and decided you would make a good fit for John's team.

You took a look at your bunk, at the trunk that held zero worldly possessions, realized there is nothing for you here, and said yes. 

Price had not wanted a new recruit, and told Laswell as much. She simply said he had a penchant for picking up strays and left your file on his desk. It took him a week to actually get curious enough to read it. A paper copy, the only one in existence that had your full, undisclosed background. He pretended he didn’t see her smug grin when he hit accept on your transfer application. 

You had been trained since youth to fight and to kill, yes, but your true purpose was espionage. You were trained to study those around you, to lie, to mold yourself to the expectations of those around you. You excelled at fitting into your surroundings, at assimilating perfectly with your peers. It was all you were good for, in your opinion. So you asked Laswell for files on your new teammates. And she gave them to you. They were full of gaping holes and redacted information, but there was enough there for you to profile them. 

Soap would be the most receptive to you. He most likely would also be the one to not give up in trying to get you to be open with them. Gaz would be receptive as well, but you know that your sealed background would put him on edge, Ghost, well…Ghost was a lot like you from what you could piece together. Yet another person who learned that the world was cruel and unforgiving, who had learned the lesson that love does nothing but hurt. And because he was like you, you knew he would trust you the least.

You felt a small pang in your chest when looking at this masked photo that you hadn’t felt in years. Not quite sadness, but…pity? No. It was different, it was sympathy. It weirded you out. 

It was hard at first, joining the 141. You had court-mandated therapy you had had to attend, and you had slowly come to realize that some trust was good, necessary even, for life. You knew you wouldn’t be able to open yourself up to them, that you would never be able to feel the sense of brotherhood you had seen amongst other soldiers, but you wanted to try. 

It was harder than you thought it would be. Hard joining men who already had comradery, who had a bond that had been forged with blood, sweat, and tears. men who weren't sure how to fit another person, much less a female, into their group. 

As you suspected, Soap was the most receptive. He was fun, you thought. His Scottish accent and affinity for filling the silence made him a very pleasant conversationalist. You didn’t have to do any of the talking.

Gaz was wary of you, but did a good job of not showing it. As you suspected, he stopped inviting you out after you said ‘no thanks’ for the third time. 

Ghost didn’t like you. You could see it in the slight tensing of his muscles when you walked in the room, the way his eyes pinched when you spoke. 

It was a rough, rocky start, full of distrust and misunderstandings. Everything about you set his senses on high alert. They way you could sneak up on him completely silent, the way you could hold your own when you sparred with him, even the way you moved had his hair standing on end. It wasn’t until a mission that would have ended with Soap's death if you hadn’t risked your life to shove him out of the way that Ghost began to trust you. 

And then he began to notice something else about you. And the more he noticed, the more concerned he grew. He noticed the way you threw yourself into battle, what little regard you held for your own life. He noticed how you never instigated conversation, never gave away the slightest bit of information that could be used against you. Noticed that you always wore gloves. In fact, he's never once seen your hands.

His constant observations of you had an unintended side effect. The longer he watched you, the more he realized you were a lot like him, the more he was drawn to you. And vice-versa. 

You found yourself willfully seeking Ghost out, willingly sharing information with him. Nothing about your past, no, you would never tell anyone the things you had done. But little things, how you liked the food served this week, how your mission went, that your new pants were really itchy. And he told you things too. Told you really bad jokes, told you Soaps stupid Scottish saying of the week. And slowly you branched out, agreeing to go to the bar the next time Soap asked you, telling Gaz that you liked his new sunglasses. 

It was nice, having people who looked at you like you meant something to them. Having people who didn’t know what you’d done, people who didn’t look at you with disgust and distrust. It was nice to have…friends. 

So of course everything had to go downhill from there.

End scene :3 let me know what you think!!6 and be on the look out for pt.2, I hope you're ready for a buttload of angst >:) Also requests are open <3

[bruciemilf]

Actually, I could ship batlantern. Hal just needs to be a loser about it. Which isn’t hard, considering he’s Hal.