#Clint Barton marvel

[abbykmtr-13]

“That's CLASSIFIED”

The last short comic that is not meant to be taken seriously.

[hoppers-babygirl]

Lover Boy

word count: 3362

author: hoppers-babygirl

kofi link: hoppers-babygirl

warnings: pure smut- literally pure smut lol

pairings: Clint Barton x Unnamed reader

header made by: @firefly-graphics

Your legs were on his shoulders, your thighs seizing up every time his tongue flicked against your swollen bud. Fingers tangling in his messy blonde hair, tugging as his fingers curl perfectly inside you. “Baby please I need more.” Your voice is light and breathy. Teasingly he slips his fingers from your tight entrance. This causes you to whine loudly. “Fuck, please baby. You know how much I need you.”

You’re a panting mess as he makes his way up your body once more. Kissing up your thighs, across your pelvis, over your belly button, through the valley of your breasts before finding your lips. You gasp as his lips practically devour yours in a passionate kiss. His tongue slides across your bottom lip silently asking for permission. Parting your lips, your tongues colliding, you can taste yourself on his lips. His hand slips between your bodies lining his length up to your dripping entrance.  

Triumphantly you wriggle your hips in anticipation but he continues to tease you even as you tug on his swollen bottom lip. He enjoyed seeing you so needy and feral for him, it boosted his ego and made his cock twitch with every sweet little sound that left your lips. You sucked on his tongue causing a moan to slip from his lips and for the last of his resolve to melt away. He let out a deep groan as he finally pushed into your warm wet heat. Your walls eagerly greeted his length, you broke the kiss to let out a relieved whimper, after all that teasing and dragging things out was worth it just to feel his bulbous tip tracing against your velvety walls with every drag of his hips. 

Calloused fingertips brushed slowly against your soft skin which caused goosebumps to raise upon our sticky skin. Breathy moans pressed against your throat as he buried his face against the nape of your neck with each thrust. His fingers digging into your plush hips, your own finding his mussed blonde hair and tugging gently as you felt his hips quicken their pace for just a moment. Despite Clint’s teasing even he couldn’t resist just how good you felt wrapped around his throbbing shaft. The room was filled with the sounds of your mixed pleasure which only encouraged his thrusts. 

Eventually you tugged the strands of his hair so he’d look up at you, leaning in as you pressed your lips against his, the kiss not as hurriedly as before but just as passionate as he drank in your whimpers and moans. Your thighs trembled as his hips pushed and pulled between your legs in slow, harsh thrusts. He moved his knee a bit and raised your leg just enough so he could somehow push in deeper causing you to gasp. Your hands trailed down his neck to his muscular back, your short nails still dug into his skin as you tried to somehow anchor yourself as if you were going to float away from just how good you felt. He grunted against your tacky skin as you scratched up and down his back. 

Licking his lips he peppered kisses across your throat and down your neck, his thrusts stuttered as he leaned his head down to press open mouth kisses to your supple breasts. Your nipples perked at the feeling of his breath ghosting across them as he continued to kiss your heated flesh. Teasingly he let his teeth graze the flesh of your breast as you helplessly pawed at him, his actions rendering your voice useless. But he knew just what you wanted and for once he easily gave in and in an instant his lips wrapped around your sensitive bud as his fingers tweaked and teased the other. 

Your back arched up to press further into his mouth and into his touch as your leg hooked around his ass, pulling him in closer to you as his thrusts slowed almost to a stop. He hadn’t meant to stop but fuck did your walls feel so good just clenching and quivering around his shaft. Gently he tugged your nipple between his teeth before he pulled back with a devilish grin as your face twisted in pain and pleasure as the feeling sent a jolt through your body. 

“Please baby.” You breathed out as you looked down at him, his hands still massaging your breasts as he looked down at you adoringly. 

“I know princess, I know I can feel it.” He replied softly before he moved in closer once again and captured your lips in another kiss. 

He could feel just how badly you needed him, your body practically vibrating in need and excitement. He hadn’t meant to draw it out this much but he just loved seeing you like this. His hands moved to the backs of your thighs as he moved them up, your knees bent and closer to your face as he now pushed in deeper making you moan. You held onto his biceps as he began to thrust now with more power behind his hips as he was chasing both your releases.  

Your hand moved between your bodies as your nimble fingers rubbed your sensitive bud in tight quick circles. Clint groaned as your walls squeezed around his cock as you rubbed your clit. His shaft slick from your juices, squelching sounds filled the room as he fucked into you faster. His weight laid on you in the most delicious way as his hips pistoned. His heavy balls slapped against your puffy cunt with each of his thrusts. As he neared his edge he began to grunt and groan, his eyes squeezed shut as he bit down on your shoulder. 

Your legs quivered and the knot in your belly snapped, crying out as your wetness gushed around his cock making him pull back just enough to watch your mess with a proud smirk on his lips. “Look at how pretty that mess is baby, god I love it when you’re just making a mess on my dick.” He moaned and pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips as the shocks of your orgasm coursed through your veins. 

After a few short sloppy thrusts he groans into your lips, his cock pulsing deep inside you as rope after rope of his warm sticky seed filled you up. Your walls milking his cock as his own orgasm worked its way through his body. His hands moved to your sides, he broke the kiss to gasp out a breath. “Fucking shit- Princess. Feels so good filling you up.” 

You grinned up at him with a dopey look, moving your legs to wrap around his waist to keep him buried to the hilt inside you, your fingers slow down but never stop as you wanted to prolong your orgasm he had been teasing in front of you all day. “We need to do this more often.” You whispered and ghosted your lips across his. 

He chuckles and after a moment his orgasm subsides, he caresses your cheek sweetly as he gives you a look full of adoration. “I’d be more than happy to spend the rest of my days like this with you, Princess.” The pet name made you smile and give him one last kiss. 

The two of you laid in bed still connected just enjoying the feeling of one another. After a few moments he peppered sweet kisses to your face and gently slipped from within you, a small mess ensued but his thick digits pushed the sticky mess back inside your quivering pussy. You whimpered at the feeling and reached out for him but he quietly shushed you. 

“I won’t be long, I’m gonna get you something to drink and then I’m going to run us a bath okay?” His voice was gentle as he spoke to you. 

You nodded and pulled the messed blankets over your body as you watched him walk out the bedroom. You couldn’t help the feeling of relaxation and content that fell over you nor could you help the sleepiness that pulled you under as you waited for him to come back. 

You dozed off for what felt like a few minutes but in reality was a couple hours, you only woke up once you felt Clint gently shaking you awake. You didn’t register what he said until he held up your favorite water bottle and helped you sit up in bed. 

“Here you go, baby. I know you're still sleepy but you need to drink and eat dinner. I ordered pizza, I hope you don't mind.” He gave you a sheepish smile, he was sure you’d be sick of pizza but he can’t help it that it’s something fast and easy to deliver to your apartment. 

Sitting up you stretched and let out a quiet groan, your body was sore from your earlier activities which made you giggle softly to yourself as you thought back but Clint’s soft touch pulled you from your thoughts. “Cmon, Princess, let's get some dinner for you then we can get that bath I promised you earlier.” 

He’s dressed in a pair of boxers as he stands to help you up, you found the gesture sweet as you took his hand. His other hand held the shirt he was wearing earlier that you so gracefully threw on the floor as the two of you found your way into bed. 

“Here you can wear this and I’ll meet you in the kitchen for dinner.” He handed you the shirt and kissed your cheek, leaving you to go to the bathroom to clean up a little before you joined him in the kitchen. 

At least three boxes of pizza awaited you on the counter, your stomach growling at the delicious scent of the pizza, you made your way over only to be handed a beer and a plate of pizza. “Thank you, it looks great.” You hummed and sat down at the island where he soon joined you with his beer and plate of pizza.

“No problem, I figured you needed the rest so I just wanted to order something fast and easy for us to enjoy for dinner.” He explained before he took a bite of his pizza. 

You nodded in agreement, “I didn’t realize I’d be that tired afterwards.” You chuckled. 

He smiled triumphantly at your words. Playfully you swat his chest and he laughs. 

“Yeah yeah I know that just boosts your ego even more.” You said with a smile on your lips. 

“I can’t help that I like hearing just how good I fucked you and wore you out.” He playfully held his hands up defensively. 

You shook your head at him, but you couldn’t help finding it amusing yourself as well. Eventually you two finished up your dinner and spent some time just chatting and catching up about how your days at work had been. Which sounded a little silly seeing as he was an avenger and you were just an accountant for Stark Industries but you liked your job nonetheless and you enjoyed hearing about his job even if it did scare you just about every time you heard the news but you did your best not to focus on that part too much.  

You both agreed to go to the annual Stark Christmas party which you hoped wouldn’t be too crazy as it’s been in the past but you figured Pepper wouldn’t let Tony get too crazy and so far the budget for the party didn’t seem too out of place.  

His calloused fingers pushed back a piece of stray hair behind your ear which made a smile break out across your lips, he leaned forward and pressed a deep kiss against them. 

You moaned quietly, just a noise of appreciation really, but soon enough the kiss ended and Clint stood up holding his hand out to you. “Why don’t we get into that bubble bath I promised you?” He hummed.

You nodded and took his hand where he led you into your ensuite bathroom before he gently dropped your hand so he could get the water started for you both. As you waited you pulled the shirt off and over your head before going to the closest to pick out the perfect bubble bath for the mood. 

Champagne and rose petals, that seemed like it could be romantic enough plus it added a bit of glitter to the water which you always loved. He slipped out his boxers and took your discarded clothes away in a nearby hamper as you swirled the scented bubble bath in the water. He dimmed the lights and made his way over to you, lifting your hair as he stood behind you his lips found your neck and shoulder. You smiled at the intimate kiss on your skin. 

You turned in his arms to face him, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his own found their way to your hip where he pulled you flush against his body. His semi hard length pressed against your soft thigh and you let out a quiet moan at the feeling. He leaned in and pressed another kiss to your lips, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. A choked moan slipped from your lips which he greedily drank up as your mouths moved in harmony. 

After a moment you pulled back and caught your breath before he led you into the large tub filled with the beautiful bubbles. The heat of the water felt good on your skin, Clint sat behind you despite the space in the tub for you both. Which you didn’t mind especially when he pulled you back into his strong arms, your back against his muscular chest as his arms wrapped around your soft middle. You closed your eyes and hummed in content, relaxing against him but it seemed his hands had other plans as they scrawled across your belly, fingertips brushing against your breasts as he teased you easily from this position. Your lips curled into a playful smirk as his hands traveled higher and he soon cupped your breasts in his hands, his cock now pressing against your back as he attached his lips to your neck he began to suck a mark onto your skin. 

Your own hands braced themselves on his thighs as he continued to explore your warm soapy skin just as he was now. You leaned your head back on his shoulder which gave him more  access to leave kisses against your skin. Which is exactly what he did, his teeth scraping against your pulse point causing you to gasp, his cock twitched against your back. Your hands moved from his thighs to between your own plus thighs, your fingers brushing your sensitive bud eliciting a whimper from your lips. He continued to kiss and suck and mark your throat and neck as much as he could reach from his spot behind you. His hands now massaging and groping your tits, your nipples pebbled at the feeling and only added to your arousal. Slipping a finger into your messy entrance you moaned out which caught his attention, he swatted your hand away and replaced it with his own. His thick digits soon pushed into your fluttering hole and you gasped, your hands once again bracing on his thighs as he pumped his wrist. 

You gasped and whined, your hips rolling against his fingers as you wanted more, his teeth dug against the flesh of your shoulder as the movement of your hips teased his cock. His fingers curled deep inside you and you cried out. The sound made him remove his fingers from inside you and he pushed you up a bit, you were a little confused until you realized what he was doing behind you as you sat up on your knees. Peering over your shoulder you moaned at the sight of him stroking his cock in his fist. 

His hand reached out to pull you back to him and with a little adjusting you easily found yourself seated on his cock once again. 

You puffed out a breath as you began to move your hips, riding him at a slow and steady pace. The water around you both began to sway with every movement but you didn’t care much as all you could really bring yourself to care about was just how good of a slight burn the stretch of his cock felt as you rode him in this position. Both of you preferred to see one another when you had sex but you couldn’t deny the moments when it became too much for you both and Clint would bend you over the closest place and take you right then and there and today seemed to be one of those days for you both. 

He grunted and groaned as he watched the fat of your ass bounce with every thrust of his hips as he impatiently moved to meet your hips. His hand kneaded the flesh that bounced beautifully right in front of him, soon enough his large hand came down and he spanked you earning a choked moan from your lips. 

“Fuck- you look perfect like this taking my cock.” He mumbled as he watched your pussy devour his cock. You let out a breathy laugh at his words, your arms grew a little tired as you held yourself up but you liked how mesmerized he was by your body so you didn’t mind just a few more thrusts. 

“Feels so good when you’re filling me up.” You yelped out as he brought you back down on his hips rather harshly. 

“Wanna see you, please.” You whined and tried to move from his grip to which caused him to give your ass another spank and you huffed in annoyance, mostly because you were just being a whiny brat. 

He chuckled and let you move from him so you could turn to face him which you did happily. Afterwards you sunk back on his cock with a moan, your hands resting on his chest as you both moaned at the feeling of your walls clenching around his shaft once again. 

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips and soon enough you two fell back into a harmonious rhythm between your thrusts and soon enough you were panting, he leaned his head down and captured your nipple between his lips as his hand moved to rub our clit in quick circles. 

HIs tongue swirled and teased the bud before he pulled back and did the same to your other breast, your fingers tugged at his hair, his scalp pickled at the feeling and he bucked his hips up harshly. 

He pulled back and gave your sternum a kiss before he looked up at you with a blissed out grin to his lips. “You gonna cum for me baby?” He cooed. 

You nodded and picked up the speed of your hips, the water splashing around by now but you didn’t give a second thought as his fingers gave your clit a slight pinch and soon enough you cried out, your head tilted back and your nails dug into his shoulders as your body quaked. 

“Fuck!” You called out. He picked up speed, holding you close to his chest and with a few more thrusts he soon buried into the hilt and filled you up with his hot seed. 

You both were panting, a guttural groan fell from his lips as your walls quivered and clenched around his shaft as he throbbed deep inside. 

After a few moments and your orgasms subsided he peppered sweet kisses across your chest, neck, throat and face. As much of your skin that he could reach he left a kiss. He pulled out of you, making you both whimper, but he gave your lips a soft kiss. 

“Why don’t we get cleaned up, Princess?” He hummed with a proud smirk on his lips as he took in just how beautiful you looked above him. 

The rest of your afternoon was spent washing one another in the peaceful silence of your apartment. 

tagging: @astrorogers

[mohish-ko]

★ Hear evil, See evil, Warn of evil

[morgangalaxy43]

The Avengers 2012 era was the best time ever in the fandom

Thor loves pop tarts, Clint lived in the vents, Bruce and Tony did science together, Steve was the mom friend of the team and did art in his free time, Natasha was cool aunt of the team, Loki was there too and a bunch of other characters like Peter, Sam, Bucky, Vision and Wanda all lived in the Avengers tower together

It was a much simpler time where everyone in the fandom was chill and having fun together

[asherashedwings]

This is how the first Avengers went, right?

[skewiie]

[smerfols]

Bunch of sketches themed "me and bro when we instalock DPS on marvel rivals"

[insertsarcasmhere]

Just saw a GIF of Clint Barton in casual clothes holding a bow and am now convinced that in universe he has the same famous person situation as Tony Hawk. He is completely unrecognized in public unless in the vicinity of That One Object. ‘It’s random middle aged guy.’ He picks up a bow. ‘Holy shit it’s Hawkeye!’

[hurtspideyparker]

If Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together Part 2

Read Part 1 and Part 3

Tony: Why is Underoos mopping the ceiling?

Sam: Told him since he's sticky that's his chore

Bucky: It's only fair he helps out around the house

Tony: Hm. Makes sense

-

Vision cooked dinner:

Peter: *pushing around food to make it look eaten*

Natasha: *surreptitiously spitting into napkin*

Steve: *taking small bites with tons of water*

Bucky: *just stares at full plate*

Tony: Well this is disgusting, I'm ordering pizza

-

Sam: C'mon man stop moping around, you gotta get yourself a girl

Bucky: Ok.

Sam: Ok? Okayyyyy! I know-

Bucky: Give me your phone

Sam: Oh you got a number in mind already hotshot? *hands phone over*

Bucky: *ring* Hi Sarah ;)

Sam: BOY-

-

Peter: Ned thought you would seperate your colours from your lights but he also thought you'd be homophobic so I don't pay him much mind cuz clearly I'm more of a superhero expert than him but he does have a 2% better average than me in history so like maybe you do hand wash your clothes and that's why I asked what underwear you wear because-

Steve: *listening intently with apprehension and alarm*

Natasha: I can't believe you found the one person on Earth who talks more nonsense than you

Tony: I know right, it's incredibly unnerving. I'm planning on adopting him

-

Peter: Mr. Stark I have to tell you something. I think Vision is a... *whispers* pervert

Tony: Um, why?

Peter: He keeps floating through my room without knocking! He saw me changing, he saw my nipples !

Tony: Well if anyone's a predator here it would be you. I mean showing your nipples to a 2 year old? Deplorable.

Peter:

Peter: Oh god, I'm the pervert...

-

Bucky: Y'know animosity isn't good between teammates. I think we should spend more time together

Sam: Am I being punked right now? Where's the camera

Bucky: I'm serious. I think it would be healthy for us to bond

Sam: Okay fine I'll bite... what did you have in mind

Bucky: Wanna go for a run?

Sam: *slams door in Bucky's face*

-

*staring at Bucky's sparkly clean metal arm*

Bucky: Dishwasher?

Peter: Dishwasher :)

(later that day)

Bucky: I've decided to let the child live

Peter: YoU wHaT?!

-

Thwip

Tony: Who took my coffee cup, It was right here

Thwip

Bruce: Um, has someone seen my book? I just had it

Thwip

Steve: I could've sworn I was holding a pen a moment ago

*giggling from the ceiling*

Tony: Young man I will take those webshooters away if you use them for shenanigans and rascality

Peter, muffled: Mr. Hawkeye told me to!

Clint: Oh so you're just gonna rat me out like that?

Peter: Sor- OOF

*falls out of ceiling vent*

-

Sam: You're in my spot

Bucky: There are no spots, it's a common area

Sam: Well that's my spot

Bucky: Did you buy the chair??

Sam: No, but everyone knows that's where I sit. Right Steve?

Steve: Oops I forgot something in my car, be right back *leaves*

Sam: Still my spot

Bucky: Still not

Sam: *sits on him*

Bucky: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL THE COUCHES ARE FREE-

Sam: IT'S MY SPOT YOU CAN'T TAKE A MAN'S FAVOURITE CHAIR-

BUCKY: YOU HAVE ISSUES GET OFF ME-

(one hour later)

Steve: Hey so turns out I don't have a car! Isn't that funn...

Sam & Bucky: *Squeezed awkwardly on the chair together*

Steve: I think I left something in my car

-

Steve: Leave the bedroom door open when you have Vision in there

Wanda: UGH you're so protective

Tony: Teenagers, am I right? Caught Pete reassembling my particle accelerator at midnight because he needed to neutralize a miniature nuclear bomb he nabbed off some guy he neglected to tell me was trying to kill him

Steve:

Steve: Wanda y'know what do whatever you want

Wanda: Really?

Steve: Yes just keep being normal. At least I can read about our issues in a parenting book

-

Thor: Ah, new warriors I see! Good to make all your acquaintance. But why are you so grumpy my friend?

Bucky: *glaring*

Peter: He's always like that. It's um, P- P- PMS? Wait -

Natasha: Yes it's PMS

Wanda: He's got it bad

Steve: *genuinely concerned* Bucky you didn't tell me something was wrong. What can I do to help?

Bucky:

Bucky: I like chocolate

-

Wanda: Welcome to the first annual girls night! This place reeks of men, so I thought we needed some women time

Pepper: Why is Vision here?

Wanda: I get sad when he's gone

Natasha: Why is Pietro here?

Pietro: Slay queens

Wanda: Moral support I think

Maria: Why is Peter here?

Wanda: He looked really upset when I said he wasn't included and I felt bad

Wanda: Anyways... yay girls! Who wants me to paint their nails?

Peter: ME ME ME

-

Steve: Pancakes or waffles?

Natasha: Pancakes

Steve: Good because I don't have a waffle maker

Natasha: Then why would you ask-

Steve: It's important for your voice to be heard, as team leader I value your opinion

*2 minutes later*

Steve: Good morning Clint, pancakes or waffles?

Clint: Waffles

Steve: Oh no.

-

Some of these were based on requests (ex. more Sam & Bucky, dad Steve w/ Wanda) so if you have certain dynamics you enjoy let me know !

[avasillva]

natasha and yelena + psychological conditioning/chemical subjugation

[vyynn]

Tony, texting in the avengers group chat: Good morning people!

Thor: Morning human

Clint: Good morning

Steve: Good Morning!

Bruce: good morning.

Natasha: Good morningg

Tony: You guys are boring, spice it up a bit for God's sake.

Bucky: I hope you mfs fall off a rooftop and die.

Bucky: Not Steve though, good morning Steve.

[billytoots]

Barton my beloved. I'm so happy they have the Freefall skin in Rivals, it's so good. But please... the hearing aids... rereading all the comics and rewatching all the shows rn that includes 7 seasons of SHIELD

[honeyed-pines]

cooking up a Hawkeye takes home another brainwashed Russian Assassin AU

[waltermis]

I miss them 🥹🥲

[paanmoxi]

they put them on a mission together

[urdreamydoodles]

MARVEL COMICS CHARACTERS x FEM!READER

Marvel Comics Characters Receiving a Dirty Picture from You in Public

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Loki, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Matthew Murdock, Frank Castle, Marc Spector, Johnny Storm, Reed Richards, Felicia Hardy, Stephen Strange, Namor, Johnny Blaze, Eddie Brock / Venom, T'Challa & Elektra Natchios

God, I love Marvel Comics...

Peter Parker aka. Spider-Man

Peter has been through a lot. He’s fought villains, lost people he’s loved, and carried the weight of responsibility since he was a kid. But nothing—not Venom, not Doctor Octopus, not the Green Goblin—has ever hit him as hard as opening his phone and seeing you.

He’s perched upside-down on a fire escape, mid-stakeout with Daredevil, when his phone buzzes. He barely glances at it at first, assuming it’s an update from MJ or the Bugle. But then—his Spidey-Sense misfires. His stomach drops. And suddenly, he’s scrambling so fast that he almost falls off the fire escape.

“...Parker?” Matt’s voice is suspicious, brow furrowing beneath the red mask. Peter clutches his phone like a lifeline, heat rushing to his face, his entire body going rigid. “Uh—nope! Nothing’s wrong! Totally fine! Just, uh—gotta—go!” Before Matt can say another word, Peter web-slings away, heart pounding.

Later, in his apartment, he stares at the image, biting his lip so hard he might draw blood. Then, fumbling with his phone, he types back: You cannot just drop this on me in the middle of a mission. I almost DIED. You’re gonna make it up to me. In person. Immediately.

Tony Stark aka. Iron Man

Tony Stark is always the one making people flustered. He’s the king of inappropriate timing, the grandmaster of chaos. So when you flip the game on him? When you send him something completely indecent while he’s in the middle of a live press conference? Oh, he is in trouble.

He’s mid-sentence, standing in front of a sea of reporters, when his phone vibrates. He glances at it without thinking, because hey, it might be about stock prices or another alien invasion. But no. No, it’s you. In the filthiest pose imaginable.

He visibly freezes. Blinks. Blanches. Then—his brain blue screens. The entire room stares as Tony suddenly cuts off mid-sentence, clears his throat, and forces a smirk that’s absolutely not covering up a crisis. “Uh—ladies and gentlemen, I think that’s enough questions for today.”

The moment he’s offstage, he stumbles into the nearest private room, yanks at his tie, and pulls out his phone like it holds the meaning of life. He types back immediately: Oh, now you’ve done it, sweetheart. I hope you’re home right now, because I’m on my way, and I’m bringing consequences.

Steve Rogers aka. Captain America

Steve is not a prude. He’s been around, he’s seen things. But there’s something about you—about the way you know exactly how to knock the breath from his lungs—that makes him feel like a kid again.

He’s in the middle of a strategy meeting with Sam and Bucky, his shield leaning against the table, when his phone vibrates. He checks it without thinking, eyes flicking down—and then every muscle in his body tenses. His grip on the phone tightens. His ears burn red.

“You good, Rogers?” Bucky gives him a knowing smirk, because he immediately recognizes that look—Steve flustered beyond belief. Steve clears his throat, hard, locking his phone like it’s offended him. “Fine,” he says, voice a little too even. “Let’s, uh—let’s keep going.”

But later, when he’s alone, he exhales deeply, pressing a hand over his face before looking at the image again. Then, with slow deliberation, he types: I hope you know what you just started. Because I don’t break my promises, sweetheart. And I promise—you’re not leaving that bed when I get there.

Thor Odinson aka. God of Thunder

Thor has seen battles, has waged wars across the cosmos, has faced monsters and gods. But when his phone pings—when he sees the absolute sin that you’ve just sent him—he forgets how to breathe.

He is in the middle of the Avengers’ common room, laughing boisterously with Bruce and Natasha, when he pulls out his phone. He expects something simple—a text from his brother, perhaps, or a message from Jane. But instead? Instead, he sees you.

The entire room feels it when Thor’s laughter stops. There is a moment—just a beat of silence—before the lights flicker. The air crackles with static electricity. His fingers twitch around the phone, and then, in a low, very serious voice, he mutters, “By the Norns…”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, but Thor abruptly stands, clearing his throat. “I must depart. Urgently.” Bruce frowns. “What? Why?” Thor barely offers an explanation before storming out of the room, typing furiously: You dare tempt the God of Thunder? Very well, little one. You shall learn what it means to summon a storm.

Loki Laufeyson aka. God of Mischief

Loki is the undisputed master of control. He is calm, composed, always one step ahead of everyone else. But when you send him something so shameless, so brazen, in the middle of an important diplomatic event in Asgard—he nearly drops his goblet of wine.

He’s reclining on his throne, listening to some dull ambassador drone on about trade negotiations, when his phone vibrates. He lifts it lazily, expecting nothing of importance—until he sees you.

His entire body goes rigid. His grip tightens around the goblet, the silver denting beneath his fingers. His green eyes darken, and for the first time in centuries, he feels his pulse stutter. The ambassador keeps talking, oblivious, but Loki? Loki is seething.

Later, in his chambers, he lounges on his bed, turning the phone over in his fingers before smirking. Then, with slow, careful precision, he types: You dare tease the God of Mischief? Oh, darling, you are in such trouble. And you know how much I enjoy trouble.

Clint Barton aka. Hawkeye

Clint Barton is used to chaos. He’s fought alien invasions, taken down crime syndicates, and, most impressively, lived in a house with three dogs and somehow survived. But nothing—not the Avengers, not S.H.I.E.L.D., not even Kate Bishop’s endless sarcasm—could have prepared him for this.

He’s in the middle of a debriefing with Captain America and Black Widow when his phone vibrates. Normally, he’d ignore it, but boredom gets the better of him. He sneaks a glance, tilting the screen just slightly—and immediately chokes on his coffee.

“Barton?” Natasha’s voice is sharp, her suspicious gaze snapping to him. Steve looks concerned. Clint, on the other hand, is malfunctioning. He quickly locks his phone, pressing it to his thigh like it’s burning him. “Yep. All good. Just… wrong text thread. You know how it is.”

The second he’s alone, he whistles, rubbing a hand down his face before sending a text: You are absolutely trying to kill me, aren’t you? I’m a trained marksman, babe. You know I always hit my target. Hope you’re ready.

Natasha Romanoff aka. Black Widow

Natasha Romanoff is a professional. She’s endured psychological conditioning, trained with the deadliest assassins in the world, and can lie so well that even she forgets what’s real. But when you send her something so utterly filthy, in the middle of a high-stakes poker game with some very dangerous people—she nearly loses her composure.

She’s holding a perfect poker face, one leg crossed over the other, a cigarette between her fingers (purely for effect). Then, her phone buzzes. She never checks her phone during missions, but for some reason, she does this time.

The second she sees the image, her fingers twitch. She almost fumbles her cigarette. Almost. A single slow breath is all that betrays her before she locks the screen and smirks, adjusting her sunglasses to hide the flicker of heat in her gaze.

Later, after she’s won the game (because of course she has), she finally responds: You must be very confident, sending me something like that. I hope you know what happens when I catch my prey, моя любовь (my love). Because I always catch them.

Bucky Barnes aka. Winter Soldier

Bucky is already always on edge. He spent decades being controlled, his mind fractured, his instincts constantly telling him that danger lurks around every corner. But when his phone vibrates in the middle of a mission briefing and he makes the mistake of checking it—he nearly self-destructs.

He’s sitting next to Sam Wilson, arms crossed, trying to focus on the tactical discussion. Then, out of habit, he glances at his phone. And suddenly? His enhanced heartbeat spikes. His grip on the phone tightens, metal fingers creaking.

Sam immediately notices. “Dude. You okay?” Bucky doesn’t answer. He just exhales deeply, jaw clenching, and locks his phone like it’s personally offended him. “Fine,” he mutters, but the way his throat bobs betrays him.

Later, in the privacy of his room, he leans against the wall, pressing his flesh hand over his face before looking at the image again. Then, he types—slow, deliberate, full of promise: You are playing with fire, doll. And you know I don’t burn alone.

Matthew Murdock aka. Daredevil

Matt has learned to control himself. He has to, considering his senses pick up everything. The heartbeat of a liar, the scent of blood, the whisper of fabric against skin. But when he puts in his earpiece during a stakeout with Elektra and hears you—sultry, teasing, wicked—his composure shatters.

Your voice is a purr, warm and full of amusement, as you describe, in explicit detail, exactly what you want to do to him. Every syllable slides into his ear like a sin, and for the first time in years, Matt Murdock forgets how to breathe.

“Murdock.” Elektra’s voice is unimpressed. “Are you even listening?” Matt clenches his jaw, forcing his expression into something neutral as he slowly removes the earpiece. “Yeah,” he lies, his voice way too tight. “Loud and clear.” But his fingers twitch, betraying him.

Later, alone in his apartment, he plays the message again. And again. Until his own heartbeat is thunderous in his ears. Then, with a slow smirk, he records his reply—his voice low, gravelly, barely more than a rasp: Angel, you have no idea what you’ve just done. And I promise—you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Frank Castle aka. The Punisher

Frank Castle does not fluster. He’s a man who’s seen the worst of the world, a soldier who has lost everything. He does not get distracted. But when he’s sitting in the middle of a grimy bar, brooding over a whiskey, and his phone vibrates—everything stops.

He checks it absently, expecting intel from Micro or maybe a warning from Daredevil. But instead, he gets you. And just like that, his grip on the glass tightens. His jaw locks. His entire body tenses, muscles coiled, because you have just sent him something so utterly indecent that he has to set his whiskey down before he crushes the glass.

The bartender notices. “You good, man?” Frank barely glances up, his fingers white-knuckled around his phone. “Fine,” he mutters, voice rough. He shoves his phone back in his pocket and downs the rest of his drink in one go.

Later, in the dead of night, he finally lets himself look at the picture again. He exhales, rubbing a hand over his face, before sending a single message: You think you’re real cute, huh? Yeah. Keep that same energy when I get home. See if you’re still smirking when I’ve got my hands on you.

Marc Spector aka. Moon Knight

Marc has lived multiple lives. A mercenary. A vigilante. A fist of vengeance. But the moment his phone vibrates in the middle of a stakeout, and he sees you—he nearly blows his own cover.

He’s perched on a rooftop, watching a weapons deal go down, his mind sharp and focused. Then, out of habit, he checks his phone. His breath hitches. His grip tightens around the device, and he has to physically restrain himself from groaning. Khonshu’s voice rumbles in his mind: "Your mortal desires are distracting, Spector." Marc grits his teeth. "Yeah, no shit."

“Something wrong?” Jake’s voice purrs from inside his head, amused. “She send you something nice, hermano?” Marc rolls his eyes, exhaling sharply before locking his phone. “Mind your damn business.” But his pulse is thundering.

Later, back at his apartment, he leans against the wall, staring at the image before typing: You have no idea what you’ve just done. Hope you’re home. Hope you’re ready.

Johnny Storm aka. Human Torch

Johnny Storm is used to attention. He thrives on it. He’s a celebrity, a hero, a walking flame. But when you send him something scandalous in the middle of a live television interview, even he isn’t ready for it.

He’s laughing, flashing his signature cocky grin at the camera, when his phone buzzes. He checks it without thinking—because hey, it might be Sue yelling at him again—but instead, it’s you. In the filthiest pose imaginable.

Johnny visibly chokes. His entire body tenses. For the first time ever, he forgets what he was saying. The interviewer blinks. “Uh… Johnny?” His brain short-circuits. His face heats—literally. The tips of his ears ignite before he clenches his fists and forces himself to not spontaneously combust on live television.

The second the interview is over, he’s sprinting to his dressing room, slamming the door shut and typing frantically: Ohhh, you are in trouble. You’re really trying to set me on fire, huh? Hope you’re home, babe, ‘cause I’m flying over. Right. Now.

Reed Richards aka. Mister Fantastic

Reed Richards is a genius. His mind is constantly working at speeds beyond human comprehension. But when he’s mid-lecture at a prestigious scientific conference and his phone vibrates—his brilliant mind suddenly goes blank.

He absently checks his phone, half-expecting an alert from the Baxter Building. But instead, it’s you. Wearing almost nothing.

For a solid ten seconds, he is frozen. His eyes slightly widen. His fingers twitch. And then, very slowly, he locks his phone and clears his throat. “Ah—excuse me, esteemed colleagues, but I must—um—attend to an urgent matter.”

Later, he adjusts his glasses, staring at the image with a fascinated, almost scientific appreciation. Then, with methodical precision, he types: You are a very distracting woman. I will be conducting an… in-depth study on you as soon as I return. Expect a thorough examination.

Felicia Hardy aka. Black Cat

Felicia Hardy is a master of seduction. She flusters men for fun. But when she’s in the middle of a high-stakes casino heist, and you send her something utterly indecent, even she loses her composure.

She’s leaning against the bar, sipping an expensive martini, eyes locked on her mark. Then, her phone buzzes. She lazily checks it, expecting an update from her crew. But instead? Instead, she sees you.

Her eyelashes flutter. Her lips part just slightly. And for the first time in years, her poker face cracks. The bartender—oblivious—raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay, miss?” Felicia exhales, smirking as she locks her phone. “Oh, it’s better than okay.”

Later, she lounges on silk sheets, staring at the picture before purring into her phone: You really think you can tease me, kitten? Oh, sweetheart… you just made a very expensive bet. And I never lose.

Stephen Strange aka. Doctor Strange

Stephen Strange is not easily shaken. He’s fought cosmic horrors, bent reality, and wielded power beyond mortal comprehension. But when he’s in the middle of a magical duel with Dormammu, and you send him a sinfully explicit picture—he almost loses.

He’s mid-incantation, floating above the Sanctum’s rooftop, when his phone vibrates. Normally, he’d ignore it—except something in the back of his mind tells him it’s you. He flicks his fingers, glancing at the screen—and immediately regrets it.

His spell stutters. His fingers twitch. The fabric of reality briefly warps. Wong, standing below, yells, “What the hell was that?!” Stephen clenches his jaw, locking his phone immediately before snapping his wrist and repairing the timeline. “Nothing,” he mutters. “Absolutely nothing.”

The moment the battle is over, he retreats into his study, loosening his Cloak, before typing: You dare distract the Sorcerer Supreme? You have no idea what you’ve just unleashed, darling. And I do hope you’re prepared for consequences beyond mortal comprehension.

Namor aka. The Sub-Mariner

Namor is a king. He does not answer to anyone. He has waged war against the surface world, stood against the mightiest heroes, and commands the loyalty of an entire empire. But when he is seated on his throne, discussing politics with his council, and his communicator vibrates—everything else becomes irrelevant.

He glances down, expecting a diplomatic missive. Instead, he is greeted by you—a vision of temptation, captured in a way that only he has the privilege to see. His grip on the communicator tightens, his lips parting slightly. The light of the display reflects in his dark, narrowed eyes.

The council drones on, but Namor hears nothing. His golden gauntlets flex, his knuckles tightening as his jaw sets. A slow, deliberate exhale is all that betrays his reaction. But those closest to him—his most trusted generals—see the flicker of something dangerous in his expression. A storm, barely contained.

Later, as he stands upon his balcony, overlooking the endless ocean, he types a single response: You seek to tempt a king, my love? Then be prepared for the wrath of a god. When next we meet, you will drown in my devotion.

Johnny Blaze aka. Ghost Rider

Johnny Blaze has seen Hell—literally. He has ridden across the desolate highways of damnation, stared into the abyss, and laughed. But when he’s sitting in a biker bar, nursing a whiskey and half-listening to some guy ramble about the Devil, his phone vibrates. And when he checks it—he nearly sets the whole place on fire.

The image of you is burned into his mind, seared into his soul. He sucks in a slow breath through his teeth, his fingers tightening around the glass. His knuckles go white. Somewhere deep inside, the Spirit of Vengeance chuckles.

“Something wrong, Blaze?” One of the other bikers eyes him warily. Johnny forces a smirk, setting his whiskey down before he crushes the glass in his grip. “Nah,” he rasps, his voice a little too rough. “Just realized I got… unfinished business to take care of.”

Later, on his Hellfire-coated bike, he sends a text: You got a real bad habit of making me wanna sin, sweetheart. And I promise—I’ll make sure you repent. Over. And over.

Eddie Brock & Venom aka. Venom

Eddie Brock has been through hell. He’s fought monsters, been one himself, lost everything, and still kept going. But nothing—not a damn thing—could prepare him for the absolute carnage of getting that picture from you in the middle of a crowded subway.

He’s scrolling through his phone absentmindedly, Venom muttering in his head about wanting tater tots, when the image loads. For a solid five seconds, he is completely still. Then—

“Eddie.” Venom’s voice rumbles, amused. “Your mate is very… bold. We approve.” Eddie, red-faced, slams his phone against his chest like that’ll somehow erase what just happened. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, eyes darting around to make sure no one saw. A teenager across from him raises an eyebrow.

Later, when he’s alone, he finally lets himself look at the picture again. A slow, predatory grin spreads across his face as he types back: Oh, you think you’re being cute, huh? Yeah. Just wait till I get my hands on you. Hell, maybe we’ll even let Venom have a little fun, too.

T’Challa aka. Black Panther

T’Challa is a king, a warrior, a legend. His mind is a fortress, his will unshakable. But when he is seated in the royal palace of Wakanda, surrounded by dignitaries, and his Kimoyo Beads alert him to a personal message—his focus wavers.

He allows himself a discreet glance. And in that moment? His heart skips a single beat. His fingers—steady even in the heat of battle—tighten just slightly around his beads. His expression does not change. But to those who know him well—Okoye, Shuri—they notice the subtlest flicker of something dangerous in his eyes.

Shuri smirks. “Brother,” she murmurs, leaning in. “You look… distracted.” T’Challa exhales deeply, locking the message with a casual flick of his fingers. “I am merely… anticipating a conversation.”

Later, when he is alone, he reviews the picture once more, fingers grazing his jaw before he types: You are testing my patience, beloved. And you know I am a man of great discipline. But for you? I am willing to break my own rules. Expect me soon.

Elektra Natchios aka. Elektra

Elektra Natchios does not fluster. She has slit the throats of kings, danced on the edge of oblivion, and played cat-and-mouse with death itself. But when she is sharpening her sai on the rooftop of a New York high-rise and her phone buzzes—her grip falters.

The blade nicks her glove. Barely. But it happens. Her lips part in a slow, dangerous smirk as she tilts the phone toward the moonlight, drinking in the absolute audacity of your message.

“Something amusing?” A voice—a rival assassin, lurking in the shadows. Elektra does not answer. She merely tucks her phone away, standing smoothly, her stance lethal. “Yes,” she purrs. “Something… very amusing.”

Later, as she leans against the window of her penthouse, she finally sends a reply: You are so very reckless, my love. And I do enjoy breaking reckless little things.