#and for tony i needed a 't' name

[frostbite-the-bat]

dont name ur toontown ocs after dhmis characters bc u will see a dhmis post and go ?? my guy?? MY SILLIE? MY BEAST????? Oh wait... dont hug me im scared..! thats where they got They Names.

[tonycries]

FEVERRR?!

Synopsis. Oh no! Getting hit with a séx technique gave him a fever - babyféver.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, séx cursed technique (he’s affected), PÚSSYDRÚNK MEN, bréeding, cúmplay, matíng presses, clan leader!Gojo, ínnapropríate use of jujutsu, manhandIing, marathons, maIe squírting, overstím, dúmbifícation, best friend!Choso, proposals, marking, phéromones, HÉATS, true form Sukuna, Sukuna’s second mouth, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Skibidi alpha Tony is baaaack (and ovuIating.)

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - No running!

That pesky, low-grade curse he happened to encounter on a gig today? Tch, Toji Fushiguro didn’t even break a sweat before finishing it off. Didn’t even flinch at its weak cursed technique, didn’t- didn’t even…

-didn’t even make it to your bedroom.

“You’re lucky.” A pained wheeze spits from Toji’s clenched canines as soon as his hips bully your own into the soft carpet of your doorway. And his clammy core sticks feverishly against your back - burning hot, desperate. He’s inhaling your honeyed fragrance and stuttering- “Y-you’re lucky you’re lucky you’re lucky I didn’t- oh.”

Your husband jolts once he’s catching the hazy sight of you mindlessly crawling away, a rugged snicker leaving him as he claws a massive palm on top of your scalp to draaaag you right back down.

Slurp! goes the way his round, cherry-red circumference circles your sloppy entrance, and you’re whining over your shoulder. “T-Toooji–! What’s gotten into you t-today?”

“Y-you’re about to find out, ma.”

“What do you…” 

That question on the tip of your dampened tongue didn’t even have a chance to formulate, before you’re gathering up every ounce of strength in your body to meet Toji’s jaded stare and- oh.

Oh, it hits you.

You were fucked. 

Oh-so-very vulgarly fucked, he’s ramming his painfully aching length just mere sultry inches past your saturated folds and it’s enough to leave you dizzy. The swollen spheroid of his crownhead scraping your walls rawly open, Toji’s shivering above you.

Sharp jaw bitten at the tight resistance of your elastic hole. Sounding fucked out of his mind– “Feel that?” You’re gasping when one of his palms travel halfway down your tummy, searching for that familiar nudge of his stout cockhead. “Yeah- feel me all inside? You’re luck- ngh- you’re lucky. Sooooo fucking lucky-” 

Was…you could feel your slobbering pussylips grow ever-wetter, glossing out a slick coating that glues to his sagging hilt in a ring. Was the Toji Fushiguro pussydrunk right now? Already? 

With the calloused ends of his fat digits clasping ‘round your throat, he’s reeling you to him like some cute toy. Drinking in your every piping shrill, kissing, gnawing- “L-lucky I didn’t catch ya right then and there, doll.”

And maybe Toji was just so big that it rendered you stupid.

Because with your spine bowed up against the ridges of his abs, you’re huffing n’ puffing with every glissade of his beefed-up muscles. “Wh-why–?”

“Why? Why?” His baritone comes out broken, octaves higher. He slouches over to breathe in a heavy gulp of your sweetened scent and almost sobs in disbelief, “‘Why’ m-my wife asks- why-” And before you know it, Toji’s holding tightly onto your cute throat n’ siiiinking his fat shaft deeper inside. Shoving and shoving his toned v-line into you with every snug resistance from your cunt, “Ohhh fuck- fuck! I can’t even- you don’t even know- because m’gonna break ya, doll.”

“Gonna break- ngh- gonna– fuuuck, why are you so big?” You’re so fucking full that you can feel his steaming dollops of pre fill you up to your lungs, damn near splitting you in half. 

Grinning savagely, “N’ yet she’s still begging for more. She wants me- needs me-” With a coo, Toji hikes up one of his meaty thighs to plant down on your sweaty skull and make you arch. “-and I thought I’d die without this p-pretty pussy.”

“Hck! Inside- w-want every inch, Toji–” The wooden floorboards underneath creakily sing with every rummaging drill. 

He was fucking you like a madman. “That damn curse- fuck, wanted to fuck you right there. Right in public- right in front of e-everyone.” Truly, he was burning every nanosecond he wasn’t jackhammering you silly. 

That cursed technique working overtime to make him tense his front and slap sloppily into the mounds of your ass. Over and over in jagged, animalistic ruts just trying to fit himself in. 

More more more more - and yet, it still wasn’t enough.

“Take it all- gonna break-” The rotund curve of his left thumb roams down, curling past your soppy crevice to smear open your droopy folds. Wiiidely agape to push his squelching cock further, the snagging stretch felt feral. “-gonna break me.”

A fat line of saliva escapes from one end of Toji’s unfastened maw once you clench, dripping down to target your leaking hole with a loud splat! splat! splat! The impact so sudden and scalding hot that it has you flinching-

“O-oi–” And has Toji immediately digging the fringes of his fingerpads deeper upon either side of your throat and tugging- you weren’t even creeping away this time, and yet he was letting off a pained grunt as if you were. 

Couldn’t even bear the mere thought-

“No no no no no, don’t run-” He’s gritting his teeth, precisely skidding his vein-decorated length until Toji’s pointed mushroom smooches your most sensitive spot. A direct strike, “Don’t run from me, mama. You have nowhere to run tonight.” 

Finally, finally bottoming out. 

BANG!

Toji’s palm comes slamming down on the space of floor right beside your head, hard enough that the entire floor shudders. Just as much as he was. 

“Fuck- fuck.” He sounded so fucked-out that it made your own ears ring. Long, raven lashes shuttering, cheekbones flushing, scarred mouth falling into an oh! at the feeling of your hot cunt.

“O-oh my god…fuuuck Toji–!” You’re sobbing at the taut stretch of your poor walls, bruising with the slip n’ slide of his rock-hard length. Toji’s cock was probin’ in so deep that you’re counting every lecherous ba-dump! of his racing pulse down under. 

A few black tendrils of his happy trail rub on your ass cheeks as he’s tugging you closer, furiously blinking his hooded eyelids to clear his vision. 

“M’gonna…” And just as soon as the words are forming on his tongue- they’re falling flat. 

Because Toji’s only just raising his white-knuckled hand from the sizzling carpet to find that he’d left a smashed crater in the shape of his hand. 

Strength so overwhelming, powers so out of control - he didn’t know whether it was the technique or you that had him so…ruined. 

“H-heh.” He barks out a hoarse breath of shocked laughter, that very same heated palm drifting down to cup your bulging pussy. Stretched and stretched and stretched around his barreling size–

You can only squirm at the way his touch is so unintentionally hot, almost simmering out the branding of his handprint. Dangerous. 

One hand massaging your tearful cunt, the other letting go of your craned neck to pat that outline he was fucking into your tummy with every- single- slam. The shape of his glazed tip creamin’ into your insides, Toji coos. “M’gonna haaaa fill this cute bulge up with Megs’ new younger sister, ma.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Big big BIG

“You- you know I respect you- right, my love?” Nanami’s seething out with a sharp bite of his handsome jaw, nostrils flaring at that saccharine scent you were giving off. “Right?”

Slowly, you nod– vision blurred with the glassy film of your own stimulated tears. 

What? What happened to make your dear, gentle Nanami Kento so…feral. 

Only for your husband to spank down a hold on the curve of waist and draaaag you bodily down the silken sheets- “Because- because m’gonna fuck you right now. Hard. Fast. Disrespectful.” 

Oh. 

Nanami wasn’t just big - he was teeth-clenchingly, mind-numbingly big. So wide n’ swollen that just a brush of his pretty pink tip against your mushy walls left you ruined from the inside out, whining. 

And right now he was bigger. 

“Ken–” Your brows furrow adorably tight, and you’re swearing that that made your husband grow even fatter. Prolonging a few sultry inches that made your toes curl all the way, “-Ken y-you’re so…”

“S’biiig, huh?” He’s softly swabbing away that thin trickle of drool decorating the side of your lips. Free hand loosening that satin yellow tie of his that he didn’t even bother taking off - couldn’t. “Keep those- hah! legs open, s’alright-”

And every breathy word comes out in a murked pant - heaving, desperate. Gasp after hot gasp departing from his stern mouth every time Nanami’s squelching his girth inside, he spits wetly down your slit. 

“See?” Thumbing inside that translucent splatters, “You- you can take this, then you can take this, my wife. You can- haaaah you hafta. Let me- let me.”

“Oh, p-pleeease!” You’re squealing as he laces an overlarge palm on top of your sweat-matted crown and pushes you onto his throbbing, aching length. Ogling away at the beefy flex of his biceps as he does-

The intensity of your gaze makes him jolt. Body shocked, heat burning- his carnal fingertips itching to squeeze your puckered pussylips together, “C’mon-” Tighter, cock pulsing fatter. “C’mon.” Tighter. 

Just to watch the way your moans pitch higher, face polished with a wave of fucked-out drool - your husband was so mean.

“Hafta fill you up.” His scorching pants make your forehead humid with perspiration. Words sharp, narrowed down where his mushroom tip was slimily mazing inside of you, “Hafta make her f-full, hafta ngh- breed this cute lil’ cunt right here.”

He’s never been this…depraved. 

Never been this vulgar, never this impatient as he keeps clinging onto the nub of your clit with his ring finger, making you yelp at the chilling touch. And you had half the mind to wonder what the hell happened on his mission today.

“What happened? What- ngh! I’ll tell you wh-what happened, my love.”

Shit- were you talking out loud?

His bludgeoning thrusts were so rawly good that it had you stupid, your pupils circling your eyes in a way that was almost silly. “Wh-what…”

“S’a curse- a technique- a- fuck! I don’t even know.” Something stupid when he was rushing to get home to you. And something even more deprived cracks at the back of Nanami’s dry throat, syllables slurring together in a way you’ve never heard your eloquent husband do before. 

“Just wanna fuh-fuck you, darlin’.” Soft, plump lips graze yours tenderly, and he’s drinking in your sweetened scent. The taste of it enough that he ruts - without even knowing. “Want- no, need it. S’like this pretty pussy’s hck! holding me hostage. Gonna die without her.”

He needed you. He needed you. 

The very moment that Nanami finds himself sheathed all the way to those curls of tawny gold lining down his washboard abs - filling you up so much you could barely motion your lungs to breathe - he’s gone. Gone. 

And he was fucking you straight into the mattress, until you felt like you were on the very verge of being swallowed up by the creaking bedsprings. Until you felt like you were going insane-

Bottomed out yet pushing and pushing and pushing.

Your trembling fingers latch ‘round Nanami’s dangling tie for dear life, and it only makes the sculptured man above you grin. “Yeah- yeah that’s it–” One of his roughened free hands clasp over your own and let you puuuull and tug to your lecherous heart’s content, “-roughen me up.”

He wanted to be strung around, he wanted you to scrape your nails all over his muscles every time his deeply scouring cock was hitting your innards. 

“Oh- my god, Kento–!” Comes out your answering whine as he slouches his sturdy weight on top of you until you’re press-press-pressed down with his core. Heels of your feet snagging on the bindings of his thigh suspenders, “Please- please please m’so close.”

Harder. Faster. 

Gazing down at where you were slobbering in great heaving dollops with such greed, Nanami was so needy that you see him drool in thin slivers. 

He didn’t even realize. 

“S-such pretty birthing hips. We’re gonna have s-such gorgeous kids.” He almost whimpers - whimpers out - blond strands sticking in an uncharacteristically unruly manner to his forehead. Nanami plants yet another sweet mass of spit on your sensitive cunt until it had you squirming, “That- yeah like that- c-can you spell my name, darling?”

And he wasn’t just asking - he was manhandling you into it with a few thorough pushes of his toned thighs. Shaking. Unsteady. 

Nanami’s breath catches in his breath once your gyratin’ hips manage to move in something that resembled a slurping K-E-N-T-O - giving extra care to let his vein patterns massage your sweet spots on that last ‘O’.

“O-oh, Ken–” Your hips keep repeatedly bucking and he finds it so hypnotizing, “-m’close- m’gonna- fuck fuck fuck m’gonna…”

K-E-N-T-O

One set of thick fingers rolling on your clit, the other pushing those fogged-up glasses further up his blushing face. 

“Fuck-” Curved mound of his breeder balls kissing your cunt over and over, stinging. Something in him twitches as he feels your fleshy walls squeeze n’ clench n’ cum. “Fuuuck k-keep doing that and m’gonna…make a mess. M’gonna-”

The wave of your high only punctures with one of your shrilling moans as Nanami’s tunneling shaft gives an animalistic twitch. You’re hauling him by the tie to crash your lips into his, open-mouthed and raw. “P-please Ken…inside…?”

Barely even coherent over your euphoria and it still manages to shock him to his very core like a zillion volts. 

And maybe he’s cumming - maybe he’s cumming twice- but fuck. He doesn’t even know right now, doesn’t even feel anything other than the clingy splatter of something wet and oozing out of his geysering tip - and the cold, cold taste of your wedding ring. 

Being brought up to his snarling mouth so that he can bite down– “-m’gonna p-put another one of hck! these on you, my love.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - “S-sweet…”

That soft gasping whine tumbles out of Geto’s pretty lips like he didn’t even mean it to - like he didn’t even fucking realize until it was too late. 

And your tearful eyes are cracking wider just a smidge, a sweltering hot gasp sprinting from your mouth and straight towards his tender shaft. Where your leader was ravenously fisting his reddened length in front of your face - rapid, sloppy tugs while he straddled your head.

Practically goading that pearl-sheened droplet of precum to splatter down onto your face, “Sweet.” His nostrils flare as he’s gulping in your scent even further, and now that he’d started he couldn’t stop.

That all-new cursed technique the sorcerers used on him was driving him mad, dolloping out a stringy wad of sap that leaks from the strawberry-pink orifice homed at his very tip. Down, down, down to glue your puckered lips together, “You’re so sweet.” Spank goes the ringing impact of his vein-covered length slapping your cheek, until you feel every winding pattern. Gasping, “Why? Why the fuck are you so sweet?”

Agonizing, he was genuinely asking.

Spank spank spank- 

Geto’s slender fingers fly up n’ down from the raven curls at his pelvis to thumb his curvaceous cockhead, “Gonna- gonna be the death of me.” His thick, milky thighs shiver where he hovers over your face, dark brows furrowed. “-gonna ruin me. Gonna fuck- fuuuck–”

Your tongue flops out readily as a few speckles of pale white ooze out onto your face, spittle overflowing at the way it was so hot you could almost see steam.

And it wasn’t enough that you’re making him cum like this - your glittery pussy just looks so delectable that Geto Suguru feels like he could die if he doesn’t shuffle himself down your body and plug you full right this very second.

So that’s exactly what he does. 

Fast enough that your stupidly muddled brain wonders whether your boyfriend had teleported, because in a split-second he’s thwacking his ruby-red tip between the leaky crevice of your pussy and cumming.

In ropey, white mases that cobweb your entrance- Geto’s spit-stringed maw falls open at the way your glistening hole quivers greedily. “God, you love it like this, huh?” He seethes, canines drawn in a snarl. “You love it. Sucking me up like that- ya have noooo idea what you do t’me, huh?”

“J-jus’ want you so bad, Suguru–” You’re whining out, the caps of your knees hitting your tits once you’re being folded like a lawnchair underneath him. 

“Fucking slut.” Trying for his usual predatory leer but he sounds feral, gone. Sounding off the most primal slurp as he coats his achin’ tip with the lustre of slick dripping down your boneless thighs, Geto leans over until you could practically taste his expensive cologne. “S’worse than that t-technique. You…you like it like this, huh?”

And the ‘yes yes yes’ is just starting to formulate on your tongue before he’s smushing your cheeks together with his left hand - and barreling his fat, rock-hard cock into your sobbing cunt with the right.

Inch after inch.

So big that just the first creeped-in plop! of his ridged tip scours your gooey wet spots and leaves you keening. His rotund tip stout and wiiide enough that your mouth falls into the same agape oh!

It wasn’t enough - just getting himself off would never be enough. He needed you you you–

“S’that it? S’that what you want?” Geto’s grouching sounds just as merciless as his pace was starting up, flexible hips swirlin’ aaaaching drags of his heavy cock against every nook and cranny of your pussy. “Ta ruin me? Huh–?” And his eyes blow wide, shuddering thighs coming to press up against yours, he grins. “Well- you’ve got me ruined. Fuuuuck you’ve got me ruined.”

“N-nghhh– Sugu- s-so deep.” You cry out once his cherry-red tip swabs your cervix in a prolonged line, your sanity fraying at the edges with each rummaging push. 

“Shit- you like being fuh-fucked like this.” Pounding every wiry sput of ivory into you so hard that you can feel it swirl inside of you and make such a mess. It wasn’t lost on his cottony brain how that only made you even wetter, prattling. “Like this- all- all sloppy.”

“Yes- yes yes yes, want it- want it all.”

And your ruthless leader doesn’t know whether it’s that damn technique or simply you that makes his heart race so rapidly. 

Giving your cushy walls yet another slam, “Oh yeah? Ya like it when I make this ngh- cute cunt all sloppy? Then you better not w-waste a single drop.”

You’re mewling at the probing feeling of his slender fingertips pushing apart your claggy folds to treat your pulsating clit like a button. Tugging and toying. “D-did you just stutter?”

“Shut up.” And for all your mouthiness, it earns you the biggest slap of Geto’s split-ended head bruising your g-spot. So hard that he was almost a magenta purple at the drooling tippy-top, “Shut up shut up shut up-” 

His soothing bass cracks, his hips shudder. Your calves almost ache where he’s manhandling you easily into a mating press, “N’ take it- t-take it- Hck! gonna be all full with me…full with my kids.”

Plural - and that is almost enough to make you babble out nonsense all over again.

“Fuh-fuuuuck– Sugu–”

Geto’s hazed amethyst eyes falter shut as he buries his face to your throat and draaaags in a deep inhale of your honey-dipped pheromones. So sweet. “H-heh- maybe that’ll stop all that backtalk- huh, gorgeous?” 

The curvy lines of his veins slip across your walls as he drills into you oh-so-relentlessly, and the only response you can give are a few gurgling gasps of his name. 

He was insatiable - nothing like himself.

“Yeah? Oh yeah?” Something in his voice hatches primally, and Geto leans over almost mockingly. Harder. Plump, pink lips curling with every squelch! your stretched-out walls sing, “Tell her ta s-stop drooling n’ talk to me straight-”

“B-but I am-”

“I meant her.” Cutting you off, you can feel your ears pop with the sheer pressure of him ravaging your tender insides. The mound of his crownhead pushes into your cervix and you whine– “Shh- she’s talking-” 

Fuck, he wasn’t even talking to you. So fucked-out that you wondered whether he even realized. 

“She’s talking- telling me that she wants it- ohhh she wants me ta fill you up e-even more-” He has the audacity to giggle - giggle - out something octaves higher and maddened, “-ta breed you, my p-pretty cumdump. To make you all full and round and- and full. Full of my daughter, gorgeous.”

Only dabbing the hand at your clit upwards to sliiide along your ajar maw, gathering a few gumdrops of creamy cum that had decided to slip free earlier— he glosses over your lips and makes you let off the loudest wet noise yet. 

Your lashes grow heavy with tears of sensitivity as that very same sensory pad sneaks down to your swollen folds, gliiiding it all over in a lustrous coating. Thick and hot. 

“H-heh.” 

His parched Adam’s apple bobs at the treacly wet glazes decorating both pairs of your lips, looking so unfairly pretty. All dark strands of black sticking to his clammy forehead, dimples displayed, blush devastating. “Almost looks better on her.” Half-opened eyes narrowed down at your soppy pussy, now all glittery and moistened. Geto growls, “Gonna hafta give her a second helping ta make sure, gorgeous.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Got milk?!

“B-baby-” Choso’s puffy, ruby-red lips flap wildly as your hips swerve gently arooound his aching hot cock. That swollen mushroom tip of his stirring your goopy insides in a snug heart until you didn’t know whether you were more fucked or he was. “Baby- hck! baby.”

“Yeeees, Cho?” You’re cooing downwards, planting a sweet, sweet kiss that leaves your poor best friend blushing. 

He was just plain cute even after a mishap with his own cursed technique - one that left his curse-like powers out of control and him…in heat. Thankfully you knew how to help. 

Whining breathily as he gnaws on your lower lip like candied gum, “N-no…”

You watch on with your head tilted prettily as he lowers his chestnut gaze shyly, a silvery line of sweat roaming somewhere down his temple. “I-I meant-” Choso’s stuttering out needily, the blushing curve of his shaft pounding oh-so-rapidly inside of you, pulse racing. He’s creeping a hand up the sides of your hips - your womb. “-I w-want a baby, baby.”

Every second that you’re stilling in slight shock felt like agony to him, every soft clench you’re instinctively smooching over his rummaging circumference was heaven.

And Choso was damn near letting his heavy lids burst with a waterfall of desperate tears before you blink your lashes in such a sensual way– 

“Awww, Choso–” Leaning over his toned pectorals until your honeyed scent overwhelms him and makes him throb. You pat the sexy incubus-looking inking that’d burned over his curly brown happy trail, “-of course you c-”

He doesn’t even let you finish your sentence - doesn’t have the patience to.

Not even the fucking sanity to do anything but clamp down his honed, animalistic canines into the crook of your neck and cum. Just from those words shrilling out of your mouth– he’s wafting out guttural grunts upon grunts into your heated flesh with every splat! of creamy seed covering your insides.

“I-I’ll take ngh- care of it.” You’re making out his scratchy words, “I’ll take care I’ll— oh.” The plump pads of his fingers smear a wet wipe down your leaking slit, scooping up oodles of cum. “I’ll take take of you- take care of our daughter take- take–”

Shit, you looked so sinful with your pretty pussy drooling down on him this way.

Spraying out a shiny sheen of glossy white that dripped down either side of his slender hips, your greedy entrance gulping up every wiry web of seed he was pouring inside you. 

“Need to fuck you- gonna fuck you. Feels like m’fucking burning up if I don’t…” Overtaking him - overtaking his pace.

You’re squealing at the splosh of wetness pooled inside your walls, “P-please, baby.” Head throwing back stupidly once the fat of his thumb slithers to stuff your hole with so many copious wads of sap. “W-want more-”

“D-don’t say that.” A hefty digit finds itself stuffed inside your slackened mouth, and you can’t help but slurp up the caramel salted taste of Choso’s cum right off of him. “-s’not good t-to talk out of your cute c- oh…”

And he’s so ready for you to squirm your body even closer and spit that ivory frosting back over into his mouth, striking his pinkish tastebuds with a resounding splatter. And he swallows. His eyes rolling all the way backwards until you could only see pure white- humming, “But I want more, Cho. Inside.”

“M-more.” Choso gazes up at you - blank-faced, mouth agape. Gone. Shaking his head, gasping to free himself from this cursed technique, “Really- really want more.”

Nodding, “Mor- mmpf–!”

Choso’s slouching over right in half - he couldn’t get enough of you, couldn’t want anything but more. In an instant, all the murked air inside your lungs is being squeezed out once Choso sits up on the silken mattress and hugs his strong arms ‘round your body.

Face pushing into your neck, breath scorching your skin. “More- more.” A high-pitched - almost crazed - sort of laughter departs from his adhesive-like lips, “She wants more- my-” Groooaning at the sultry smooch of his weepy orifice accurately into your cervix, “-my baby wants more fuuuck–!”

Mouth watering with a syrupy wave of spittle at your fragrance, so sweet that he could almost taste it. With a creak! of your aged bedcoils, he’s pounding up into you-

Hard. Fast.

Every gyrating motion massaging his tense core all over your front n’ sweaty inner thighs, “Milking me- milking me- ohh, my baby can f-feel all of it, huh?” 

“I can- hngh! C-can…” Your arms throw over Choso’s broad shoulders as you hold on for dear life. He was just so veiny that every whack! whack! whack! of his bludgeoning crown left your dangling knees weak.

Curtained by silky bangs, glassy eyes of his catch yours, “You can- y-you can, h-huh? Feel every inch, every v-vein-” Almost as if he himself couldn’t believe it, Choso’s trekking over one of his splayed palms to feel for where he’s rummaging your insides and hisses. Sharp tattoos on his nosebridge crinkling, “-every push-” His puffily veined shaft slips over your g-spot with a delicate sluuuuurp, “-right here?”

“Oh- ohhhh fuck! I can–”

“Yeah- yeah yeah yeah- feel it. Feel me.” Now slobbering like a damn dog with every cloudy puff of your pheromones, he can feel the heat overtaking him and making his glistening tip swell. “Gonna fuh-fucking die before I don’t fill ya up-”

It was almost hard to remember that this was your best friend. You’re thumbing away one of the pearly translucent tears that slip down his burning cheeks, “Then you better not hah! miss.”

So looong that every rugged thrust reaches your deepest, tenderest insides; spearheading your poor pussy until you felt your folds rub raw. And the sloppier his cadence gets, the more rapidly your hazed irises are circlin’ your eyes dizzily. 

Choso’s sweet lips glue to each other with a lustre of spit and wobbles, a furious blush overtaking his features from the tips of his ears to down under. “N-ngh!”

And it’s all that he has to say- all that he can breathe before Choso’s not just cumming for the second time - he’s squirting. 

You made him squirt out hot rivulets of sticky sap that clings onto your cunt lovingly, trickling down every ridge of his washboard abs. So much. So heavy.

His bulky tip slips out of your entrance at the sheer momentum and Choso whines- “Sh-she’s gonna have your gorgeous eyes- I love your eyes…” Angrily fisting the chubby base to froth out more and more milky ribbons that scorch your slippery crevices, you’re being flooded to the very brim. “-your smile- y-your beautiful skin- your hair- alllll of you. M’gonna take care of it allll.”

Thighs twitching, you’re barely even talking at this point, your pussy letting off more than enough chatty squelches on behalf of you. 

Choso grips a handful of your right asscheek to tug you closer before- with a noisy splatter, a few viscid tendrils of cum drivel out of you. And oh, his tear-filled gaze is hypnotized by the sight of the mess he’s made below. 

Jaw-dropped. Heated. 

“Oh- marry me.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Suffocate me, woman.

The King of Curses didn’t know how he got here- he didn’t even know why. 

One his damn court subjects was showing off a cursed technique, and the next thing y’know is that you’re seated right on top of his plush, puckered mouth whilst the Ryomen Sukuna begged for your dripping wet cunt. 

“O-oh but, Kuna-” Your lower lip wobbles cutely as his clawed fingers grip each side of your hips like a vice, he’d already been driving you mad with his tongue and his dual cocks for hours now. 

And yet - he still needed more.

“Fuck ‘b-b-but’.” Your hulking husband snarls from down below, and just the sight of his gleaming, honed canines is enough for you to shudder out a gasping oh! The edges of his plump lips tickling your perked pulsing clit-

“If I suffocate y-”

“Then fucking s-suffocate me.” You don’t even have the time to register that you’d made the big, bad king stutter before he’s gripping a bruising handful of your ass and draaaagging you down. Plopping, sitting. Grouchy baritone cracking, “Wh-who do ya think I am, puny human?”

It was a rhetorical question, and the only answer you’re able to give is a jumble of mashed ‘fuck!’ and “Kuna!” 

Bellowing out a throaty groan at the honeyed sap beading down his tongue, Sukuna’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs and gasps with every gulp. Every slap of his scratchy tastebuds, every smooch. 

“S-smells so sweet.” And as if he wasn’t lewd enough, you’re feeling the frigid breeze of him inhaaaling the fragrance of your candied pussy. Grunting, “Wanna kiss? Sloppy- w-wanna kiss, don’tcha?” The slivery edge of his tongue slips past your folds and laps up the remnant excess of his creampies from before- “Mmmm- s’not enough. Not- not enough.”

“N-not enough?”

And it really wasn’t enough for him.

Shoving himself even more nose-deep between your puffy folds meant that Sukuna was hypnotized, his crimson peripherals barely peeking out between his pinkish bangs. 

“Cleaning you up t-ta put in more-” A webbed wallop of cum slips between his lips, and he’s taking a few seconds to sniff your honeyed, raw cunt once more. Senses sensitive twofold, “-gotta put in more. S-sooo much more. Gotta fill you up.”

His mouths - both his mouths - were fucking restless. The slimy tip of his second cursed tongue weaving upwards until you’re flinching at its touch, slopping a wet sheen all over your inner thighs. You’re shuddering as the very berry-pink muscle prolongs to slap your clit, “W-wait that’s ngh! Unfairrrr–”

“Didn’t think I would be nice, did ya?” He’s grumbing out, and the length of his other tongue was so loooong that it could stretch all the way until you’re being smeared wide open. Up, up, up just to taste you. 

You’re halfway through screaming as you feel the tiny hearts that he’s drawing over your inner thighs, faster. Faster. Cracking open a heavy eye, “What? Hm?” Not talking to you - but to his other cursed mouth. “Keh, greedy thing. Go on then.”

Oh. 

Oh, you only get what he meant when his winding muscle starts pokin’ your rubbery entrance. Playfully nudging once - twice, before splitting you so open. 

“S-so deep-!” Sukuna’s mazing his tongue down your dewy dampened walls so deep, glistening hot tip searching like a headlight. He scratches the ridges of his tastebuds right over where he could just pinpoint your g-spot, “W-wait there- hck! There–!”

And usually he would snipe back with something smug, usually he would mock your wailing whines.

But right now, Sukuna was so gone on your dizzying pussy that his nostrils flare as he pushes further face-deep between your jittery legs. 

“There- there there there.” 

Chin dribbling with a lustrous glazing of slick and cum and slick, your fuzzy brain sparks with so many stars with every thrust. Faster. “Does it please you to drench me, brat?” Making out with your slobbering cunt like a man parched. Faster. “Does it p-please you to have me like this? Begging and cleaning out your sloppy haaaa pussy- only to fill you up again?”

Overstimulated tears saturating your eyes, you can only throw your head back and whine– “Y-yes–” Legs twitching where they were fully cushioning Sukuna’s handsome face, “-please…won’t last, Kuna–”

It’s like both his drooling maws only get more eager at your declaration.

Jaw spanking the front of your cunt, he’s sucking on your cute clit like a lolly. “Won’t last, huuuh?” Leering grin reflected upon both mouths, Sukuna’s second tongue dares to draw a swooping pattern- no, his name. His name in a sizzling hot motion on your battered g-spot, “Cum then.”

And when you do, it’s with that very same name trilling from your spit-slicked mouth until your lips are buzzing. 

Peak after peak of white-hot euphoria that leaves your head spinning, heartbeat thundering down all the way to your hot core. And the king is soooo much more than happy to let his features brace your every sloppy drag. 

Creaky joints ricketing at the sheer force, the backs of your thighs aching, “S-s’too good-” Your throat clogs with a few wads of saliva that overspill, so filthy. “-feels like m’in heaven, Kuna.”

And it’s only once your tingling high has simmered down, only once you’re just beginning to catch your punctured breath that he’s finally, finally wrenching himself away with a claggy mwah!

“Well don’t tap out just yet, brat.” Heavy lids hooded - the smile he’s gifting you is so drunken. Chuckling gruffly, “Look at this mess.”

Calling it a ‘mess’ was an understatement. 

Sukuna was ravaged from the apples of his high cheekbones - all glossy with a lacquer of your juices - down to his slobbering second mouth. Still licking its monstrous lips with the cloying remnants of you, tongue flicking wet swipes at your thighs for more more more. 

“Clean it up.”

His tone is sharp, stern- but the way that the man himself hiccups once two of his four beefy arms pick you up and manhandle you over his matching cocks was anything but. 

Hell, he was already wondering whether he could get that damn curse to hit him with this cursed technique a second time.

“O-oh.” Sukuna stutters - stutters, at the heated warmth of your pussylips being spread open over his swollen, pre-topped cockhead. Both so big that not even how much his secondary mouth had tugged on your hole could prepare you for the streeeeetch–

“That’s it- that- that’s it-” His broad, meaty pecs heave, his crimson eyes dilate, his own mouth drools at the snug clench of you. Looming so big, you’re being hovered down like a pretty porcelain doll to maze his rovering strawberry divots tight inside your wet cunt, ravenous. “The king can’t have an heir without filling ya up, human.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - HEIR

It wasn’t the Gojo clan leader’s fault this time - it wasn’t. He swears with every sparking, pussydrunken ounce of his brain that he didn’t purposefully let those damn elders hit him with a sex technique-

“Y’know why I l-let them haaaah- use that technique on me, s-sweetheart?” Gojo’s pert, pink lips twitch as they struggle to keep holding his cocky smirk. Snowy brows furrowing at the splashing wave of his own cum that greets him at your entrance, rumbling bass low in your ear. 

And a sensual squelch sounds as he draaags his ruby tip all the way down and up your slit, sluuurping in a way that makes your husband lick his own lips. “Because this sweet pussy was ngh- begging to be bred. They wan’ an heir, they’re gonna get one.”

And before you can even let out another saturated gasp! he’s hovering his clammy palm over your tummy - your skin crackling with the sizzle of cursed energy before-

“Not yet.”

Not yet not yet not yet.

You’re whining, it’s been this way for hours - days? - now, and Gojo’s leveraging his glowing Six Eyes to check whether his repeated, milky creampies had finally taken. “T-Toru, you’re so mmpf-!”

Unable to even finish your sentence before his beefy, impatient arms are looping around your restless body and hauling you halfway down the soft tatami mats. Both boneless legs thrown over one shoulder, Gojo hadn’t even bothered to take off his expensive yukata. 

Hadn’t even bothered to think - to breathe before he’s plugging you up until you’re overflowing. The curving fringe of his mushroomed tip smacking open your glutinous walls, he hugs your thighs. “She’s begging- she’s saying ohhh…”

“F-fuuuck, Toru!” The whack of his slimily-topped cockhead into your cervix makes you keen, gushing out in so many spurts of thick white that it forms a puddle below you. “Satoru, it’s the hck! technique-”

“S’not.” He’s gritting his pearly teeth, and there’s a little tremble in Gojo’s voice that makes him sound as if he’s on the verge of sobbing. Tender ribbons of his veins bursting out shockwaves- “She’s talking t’me- telling me h-how badly she wants ta be bred.” Sneaking a deeeeep gulp of your saccharine pheromones, gasping. Dizzy. “Don’t you hear that- don’t you- fuuuck, listen.”

Drilling into you until your popped eardrums flood with those noisy squelches, and to the strongest it wasn’t just lecherous music to his ears. 

No, no, no no- it was a full-on conversation that he was sluggishly nodding his head along with. “Right- right.” Smile dangling with strings of lustrous saliva that seems to water his mouth after every vulgar rut, “Says sh-she wants ta be all full- all round n’ glowing with my hair. Nghhh– oh, she’s purring.”

Words crackling with a bout of crazed laughter, you’re gulping at the sexy way that Gojo’s azure pupils bulge ever-so-slightly with stimulation. 

Thighs thrashing on top of his broad shoulder- but Gojo’s too strong. He’s pinning them down on one side and trawling you to meet every mazing thrust, leaking divot digging inside your wet cunt like a searchlight. 

“Satoru- hck! Satoru–” Your trills pitch upwards in both volume and pitch again and again and again with every slapping slam of his rounded girth inside. Gummy walls rubbed raw after so many hours, your body twitches every time you feel the remnants of his goopy cum dribble down your entrance. “I-I want-”

“-more?” Gojo finishes for you, octaves higher. Feverish - and it wasn’t just the technique any more.

And the look in his eyes told you that he wasn’t going to back down any time soon, he wasn’t even growing close to slowing down once he rovers a hand down to your clit and pinches. 

“H-heh, more.” He’s sputtering wetly, knobbly ends of his fingers buzzing with cursed energy. Making you see white-hot, “More more more more–” Gojo twists his dextrous wrist and pulls on your clit, “-my wife w-wants ngh- more, riiiight?”

“Yes- yes yes yes yes-” But more than that you were so close - you were about to cum.

But, of course, the Gojo Satoru knew that.

It’s exactly why he’s tugging on your perked clit a few repeated times more, flickers of blue lightning bolting from the ends of his pretty eyes as he gazes down at your tummy and watches his fat, meaty cock part your slippery walls and target your g-spot dead-on. 

Powers working overtime, “Hit iiiit~” Going out of control, he couldn’t stop watching every syrupy smooch right into that cute bundle o’ nerves, “C’mon- scream my name every time I hit it- don’t be haaaa shy, sweetheart.”

You do you do, with every stinging smack! of skin sticking onto skin - Gojo’s hips were so ruthless it’s as if he was trying to brand your ass with the imprints of his v-line, bruising himself red. 

“More- heh- n’ you’re gonna g-get more.” Cooing at your glittery pussylips, he strikes your clit with a pap! of his thumb. Rubbing in your scent, “More more more- more-”

And Gojo counts underneath his strained breath to exactly three before you’re hitting your overwhelming orgasm. Startling your tearful eyes wide open with the sheer force- it’s enough to make him hitch his breath and collapse his sweaty body on top of yours. 

The squeeze of your strobing walls so tight, the toe-curling pleasure enough for Gojo himself to rub his washboard abs in sultry gyrations like he was melting into you. Stirrin’ his rotund crown deeply inside with every blissful wave, as if he could see the stars bursting cartoonishly around your head. 

Face furiously flushed, long lashes flapping, maw agape. 

“Yeah c’mon- c’mon c’mon c’mon–” He’s hissing into your open mouth, sharp canines leaving your poor swollen lips bruised. “-milk me. Milk me- This time- this time s’gonna take, my girl.”

It’s so much - both your peaked highs and the way that Gojo’s crashing into his own. Not hitting, no- crashing. 

Because all it takes is a few more sloppy strokes of his uneven cadence and his strawberry glazed orifice is bursting with jetstreamed squirts of cum - squirting. 

“O-oh my- fuck!” Your throat scratches at the sheer volume being animalistically stuffed inside of you, creamy white seed and sap and- and you’d just made Gojo Satoru squirt. 

The idea itself was enough to drive you wild - and so was the splashes of puddling torrents that bawled out of your sopping wet pussy. So much that you were leaking, thick. Gushing–

Splat!

You don’t even realize that you’re fucked stupid until it takes a wet splatter somewhere near your heaving chest for you to be brought back into heady reality. Lashes blinking back some semblance of your blotchy vision, “T-Toru are you-”

He was tearing. Those pooling salted tears staining your skin just as much as his goopy white cum was soiling the yukata slipping off of his broad deltoids.

“Oh…” 

“Wh-what–?”

Gojo’s drool-covered lips sag open as he veers his misty gaze to that tummy bulge he’d just pounded ruthlessly into you, aching hips still slithering his swollen inches back and forth. 

Fully wrung out, voice breaking- he sniffles, “-it took i-it took and…oh” Before you can let out anything more than a few whimpering hiccups, you’re just stuffed so full you can barely articulate. “Wonder- wonder if she’ll be gorgeous like her mama- ngh! W-wonder if she’ll be e-extra powerful if I breed this ngh- sweet pussy twice. ” 

He’s giving you a squeeze to your clit that makes you whine at the faintly buzzing cursed energy, fully babbling now. “Wonder if I can use cursed energy on my cock-”

“Satoru.”

A/N. MWAHAHA I feel somewhat better now babygirls n’ it’s all cuz of y’all <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[magical-reid]

The Soldier and His Mission

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1K

Summary: When a trigger sends Bucky back into the grip of the Winter Soldier, he shadows you with an unyielding protectiveness that leaves the team on edge, though he doesn't harm anyone. After days of tension and careful steps, Bucky finally breaks through the icy barrier, returning to himself in a quiet, tender moment, finding solace in your presence.

You should’ve known something was wrong the moment Bucky went still.

One second, the mission was wrapping up—just another Hydra facility wiped off the map, just another set of goons taken down. The next, something triggered him. A phrase muttered in Russian over a radio, the faintest crackle of a long-dead handler’s voice. You saw the shift in his posture before he even turned around, the telltale tightening of his jaw, the blankness overtaking those usually warm blue eyes.

Bucky Barnes was gone.

The Winter Soldier stood in his place.

And yet—he didn’t hurt you.

Not when he turned to face the team, his body language bristling with danger. Not when Steve hesitated before stepping forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. And certainly not when you cautiously called his name, your voice softer than the others.

Instead, the Soldier moved between you and everyone else.

A shield.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Back at the Tower, you thought the episode would pass. That maybe, after a few hours, after enough familiar sights and sounds, Bucky would shake it off like he always did.

But the Soldier wasn’t leaving. And he had decided you were his mission.

Not to eliminate.

To protect.

At first, it was just hovering. You moved—he followed. You sat—he stood at your back, ever watchful. The others gave him space, exchanging worried glances when they thought you weren’t looking. Steve was tense, obviously trying to figure out how to break through, while Tony was less patient about it.

“This is a problem,” Stark declared after the first few hours, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter. “I mean, I hate to be the one to say it, but we have a fully armed, brainwashed assassin in the Tower again, and we all know how that went last time.”

“He’s not attacking anyone,” Natasha pointed out.

“Yet,” Tony shot back.

You ignored the argument as best you could, focusing instead on cooking something for Bucky—something normal, something familiar, something that might ground him. His eyes tracked you the entire time.

Then you miscalculated the heat on the stove.

The oil in the pan hissed and spat, and a second later, you hissed too as a sharp sting bloomed across your palm. You barely had time to react before there was a sudden blur of motion.

Bucky was on you instantly.

His flesh hand gripped your wrist, his metal one hovering protectively over the stove, as if it had personally attacked you. His face was unreadable, but his grip was firm, his hold gentle as he examined the burn.

“I’m okay,” you assured him, but he wasn’t listening.

Instead, he took the cold pack you hadn’t even reached for yet and pressed it carefully to your palm, his jaw tight, his brows furrowed in focus. You exchanged a look with Steve over Bucky’s shoulder, and the Captain exhaled, something like relief flashing in his eyes.

He was still in there.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The Soldier continued shadowing you for the next two days, much to Tony’s frustration. But as Natasha had pointed out—he wasn’t hurting anyone.

Unless they posed a threat to you.

That was something Steve learned firsthand during a sparring session. You had barely landed a hit before Bucky, watching from the sidelines, had moved. The next thing you knew, Steve was on his ass, blinking up at the ceiling, while Bucky stood between you like a human wall, eyes cold and calculating.

“For the record,” Steve grunted as he sat up, rubbing his ribs, “I was letting her win.”

Bucky wasn’t convinced.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It wasn’t until you needed a medical checkup that things really came to a head.

“Barnes, I have to actually examine her,” Dr. Cho said patiently, eyeing where Bucky stood between you and the med bay’s equipment.

“No,” he replied flatly.

“Bucky—” you tried.

“The room is secure.”

“That’s not the—”

“She does not require assistance.”

“I do require assistance,” you corrected. “Because I burned my hand and twisted my shoulder thanks to a certain super soldier overreacting in the gym.”

Bucky didn’t move.

You exhaled slowly.

“Okay,” you said, shifting tactics. “Then stay.”

That got his attention.

“If you want to make sure nothing happens to me,” you reasoned, “then you can stay here. But you have to let the doctor check me out.”

His expression was unreadable for a long moment. Then, after what felt like an eternity—

“…Understood.”

Progress.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

When it finally broke, it wasn’t dramatic.

There was no grand trigger, no huge revelation.

Just a moment of quiet.

You had fallen asleep on the couch, exhaustion finally winning after two days of Bucky’s overprotective hovering. When you woke up, it was to warm hands gently brushing over your wrist—both flesh and metal, but softer this time, as if relearning the feeling of touching you.

And then you heard it—his breath hitching.

A tiny, barely-there sound, but one filled with something raw.

You blinked sleepily, looking up.

Bucky was staring at you. Not the Soldier. Bucky.

His face was pale, his jaw tight, his eyes wide—his real eyes.

“…Doll?” His voice cracked over the word, like it had been caught in his throat.

You smiled sleepily, shifting so your fingers curled around his. “Hey, Buck.”

His exhale was shaky. His shoulders sagged. And when you tugged him down to you, he didn’t resist.

He just buried his face in your neck and held on.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You scared the hell out of me, you know,” you murmured later, your fingers absentmindedly running through his hair as he rested against you.

“I know,” he admitted, voice rough.

“You threw Steve like a ragdoll.”

“…Yeah.”

“…Kind of hot, not gonna lie.”

A laugh. Quiet, but real.

And just like that, Bucky Barnes was back.

[veltana]

Breaking point

✦ Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~2,5k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Dub-con (proceed with caution if this might trigger you), pwp, smut and a bit of fluff at the end, possessive/protective!bucky, degredation (slut, fuck doll, cum-bucket), grinding, choking, spitting, pussy slapping, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, pet name (sweetheart).

✦ Summary: Bucky is done with you going out with losers.

✦ Note: This used to be called I will kill them if they touch you but I never liked that title so I renamed it! Also, you guys didn't know what you were voting for, but it was the banner for this story! Please reblog and comment! Asks are always welcome 💚

Masterlist | AO3

"Please don't scare this one away as you did last time," you beg and look at Bucky's reflection in the bathroom mirror. He makes a face where he's leaning against the door frame behind you and then sighs when you give him a look. "He wasn't worth shit if he didn't wanna fight for you," he points out.

Now it's your turn to sigh and you cross your arms, glaring at him. "He isn't supposed to fight for me on a first date. We're supposed to have a good time and hopefully fuck." Bucky's mouth hardens, and he looks away. He doesn’t like that, at all.

Ever since you became roommates he's been very protective of you, helping you with the smallest things, driving you everywhere you need to go, even if you can drive yourself. Sometimes it's overbearing but most of the time it's nice to have someone care for you like that.

Unfortunately, recently he's picked up a habit of intimidating the people you go on dates with. He stands behind you when they come to pick you up, and his large frame and cold stare make many of them cower. A few have turned around right away, others have asked if that's your boyfriend or something, thinking it was some type of open relationship/cuckold situation.

"Don't say shit like that," Bucky says through gritted teeth. "I don't wanna think about you fucking other people." You can't help the teasing smile that cracks your face. "Makes you jealous?" With a huff, Bucky pushes off and leaves you to continue.

Two hours later your makeup is done and your hair fixed to perfection. You sit on the couch in shorts and a t-shirt, with a glass of wine, waiting until the last minute to put on the skin-tight dress. While scrolling on your phone, Bucky sits beside you with a beer. "So where's the loser taking you?" "Don't care,” you shrug. “Honestly, my priority tonight is to get laid. The previous ones were a little too… bland. But he seems promising." "What do you mean, bland?"

Putting your phone down you look at him, "You don't wanna hear this anyway, you'll just get mad," you point out. "I don't get mad," he defends. "Pfff, you're such a liar, I can see it in your eyes whenever I mention another guy." "Because you deserve the best and all I've seen is trash."

Irritated, you put your glass down too. "Why don't you pick for me then? Who would James Bucky Barnes deem worthy of fucking me?"

The grip on his beer is so hard his knuckles whiten and his lips are a thin line. When he doesn't answer you lean back and start to count people off.

"Well, Steve seems a bit too sweet for my taste but I mean I would not mind trying a slice of that all-American beefcake," you muse. "Sam is so charming and funny! That quick tongue would probably work wonders, if you know what I mean," you wink and watch as Bucky's eye twitch, his jaw clenched hard.

"Tony," you continue. "Well, he seems a little self-absorbed but maybe he's a really selfless lover. Won't hurt to check!" "Loki is so handsome," you bite your lip. "I would surrender my body to him in a heartbeat! But I've heard that he leaves people high and dry and that would be awful."

Tilting your head, you say, "Do you think Thor and Jane would be up for a threesome? I can just imagine eating her out while he fucks me from behind and then we could-"

With a slam he puts the bottle on the table and grabs your face with his hand forcefully, silencing your tirade of words and squeezing your cheeks so that your lips pucker.

The grip is close to bruising and it's an instant pull in your lower stomach. His eyes are black with anger, something you've never seen directed at you before. "No one," he hisses. "Not one of them is fucking you, I will kill them if they touch you."

His hand releases you and grabs your neck instead. You're shocked, and instantly so horny it hurts. Opening your mouth to speak he squeezes harder, making a wheezing sound come out.

"I'll give you a chance to stop this. Tell me right now you don't want this and we'll act as if nothing happened. Otherwise, I'm fucking you into this couch until you can't remember your goddamn name." When he finishes his grip lightens. The rush of blood makes you euphoric and boneless. You want to give yourself to him, let him do whatever he wants. "Fuck me," you whisper.

The kiss is more teeth than lips and the hold around your throat hardens again. You try to keep up with him but it's impossible as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, claiming every inch, making you lightheaded with the lack of oxygen. You gasp for air as he pulls away, releasing you. His gaze is brimming with lust and want now, all signs of anger gone. Then he pushes you down onto the couch.

"You're a kinky little slut, aren't you sweetheart?" he mocks and leans in over you, spreading your legs with his. All you can do is nod and try to wiggle close so you can press your center against his clothed cock. It's clearly outlined in his sweatpants and you hope it's as big as it seems. "If I put my hand down your pants, are you gonna be wet for me?" "Yes Bucky," you whine.

The throbbing is almost unbearable and his smirk is downright sinful. "Come on, rub yourself on me, show me how much you want it." With another whine, you brace yourself against the couch and lift your hips. He doesn't move a muscle to help as you struggle to find the right position.

"That's disappointing," Bucky smacks his lips and frowns. "Thought you wanted this." "I do Bucky, I do, please I'm trying," you tell him desperately. With effort, you get into a good enough position to grind your cunt on his cock through the layers of clothing. It's not nearly enough to curb the ache.

"Useless," Bucky sighs and grabs your legs. "Do I have to do everything?" He pushes your knees up towards your chest, folding you in half and pushing his cock right into your core.

"Sorry," you moan. His mean words have only made you needier and you move yourself against him with abandon. Bucky is motionless above you, not making a sound or saying a word, just staring at you chasing your high. Your movements turn unsteady when you start to come close.

If you were of sound mind you would notice the glint in his eyes but instead, you’re barreling towards your climax. Until he suddenly moves away.

Gawking you stare at him and he just smiles wickedly in return. "Take off your clothes, spread your legs" he instructs and you quickly pull your pants off and discard your t-shirt and underwear, spreading your legs as best you can on the couch. Bucky takes in your bare body, moving his hands slowly down your thighs until his palms frame your pussy.

"Fucking shaved for him too,” he notes with a snarl. You're not sure why that upset him. "Sorry!" you say, just to be safe.

"I don't need your hair curled, your make-up done or your whole body shaved. I will fuck you anyway, sweetheart, no matter what you look like because you belong to me," he growls before he spits on your cunt, sending a rush through you, making you moan and spread your legs even more.

For the first time, he touches you properly, letting his fingers spread the spit all over your pussy before shoving two of them into your soaked core. He pistons them in and out, putting his thumb against your clit and making colors burst before you.

"You want to come on my fingers, you fucking slut?" When you nod frantically he instructs, "Open your mouth, stick out your tongue." A second after you do spit lands on your tongue and droplets on your face. It nearly tips you over.

"Swallow it," he orders and watches you as you do, some form of approval shining in his eyes for the first time. "Who do you belong to?"

The question is too complicated to understand, you can't focus on what he wants. "I don't…" is all that comes out.

"Wrong answer," he says and removes his fingers, making you shout in disappointment. Sharp slaps land on your wet cunt and you instinctively try to move away from it, but he grabs your legs, pulling you back. "Don't you fucking run from me."

"I'm sorry," you cry, looking pleadingly at him. "I'm- I'm yours James, yours to do what you want with. Please, please, please let me come!"

With a huff he pushes his fingers back in, pressing the tips into your g-spot and getting his thumb back on your clit. His unbothered state makes you feel so small and insignificant, heightening the pleasure coursing through you.

As it climbs, your body shakes, your legs trembling from being held open. "I'm- I'm- don't stop!" you beg. Closing your eyes you focus on the feeling of him, his other hand still gripping your thigh hard. You hope it bruises.

"I can feel you, slut!" Bucky's voice is the cherry on top of everything. "Come on my fingers, do it, come for me!" he commands and of course, you do as he wants. With a scream you convulse, almost pushing him out with the sensation flooding you. Bucky is talking above you but you're not sure what he's saying because all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears.

A hard tap against your cheek makes you open your eyes. "Don't pass out on me, I'm not done with you yet." "Wouldn't dream of it," you smile dumbly, and it earns you a smile in return. But it quickly passes as he pulls off his tank top and pushes down his pants. The cock is just as big as you hoped.

He rubs the head against your soaked center, sending overwhelming sparks through you, making you twitch. When he notches the head of his dick at your opening your blood freezes. "C-condom?" you stutter.

Cocking his head he asks. "Do you really want that? Doesn't a slut like you want to be filled up with cum?" "Y-yes, but, Bucky…" you gnaw your lip.

"I want to fuck my little cum-bucket raw, make sure you feel me running out of you for days," he gives a light thrust, almost pushing inside, giving you a taste of heaven. For a second you look at each other and Bucky presses in just a little bit more. It decides it for you. "Please fill me with your cum Bucky, I need it so bad!" you whine and he chuckles before shoving his fat cock into you without mercy.

Quickly you wrap your legs around his hips, meeting his hard thrusts that are sending your body into overdrive. "Feel so fucking good sweetheart, your cunt was made for me, wasn't it?" he groans. "Yes it was," you answer breathlessly.

He grabs your face. "Those other losers are never going to satisfy you." "No, Bucky, only you!" "That's right, you're my fuckdoll now, sweetheart," he says before he leans down to kiss you. It's much sweeter this time and you grab his head, carding your fingers through his hair, feeling your chest fill with another type of warmth.

When he pulls back he says, "Beg me not to come in you." Your cunt clenches and your second orgasm is suddenly a lot closer. "Bucky, please don't… I can't get pregnant," you make your voice small and frail.

In response his laugh is cruel. "Yes you will, your purpose in life is to be bred. I'm going to cum in you every day til it sticks and then everyone will know who you belong to." "Please, pull out," you beg and reach down to rub your clit, feeling the climax shimmering underneath your skin.

"Such a bad liar, sweetheart," he chuckles. "Are you going to come on my cock? Are you gonna claim me just as I claim you?" "Yes! I just need- harder!" you pant. "Fucking hell," Bucky grunts and does as you demand.

The climax rips through you with little regard for your sanity. The sound leaving your throat makes it raw and a second later Bucky moans your name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It's almost good enough to feel him finish inside you that you come again, but you’re too spent to do more than shudder.

Then he kisses you again, sweetly, caringly, and pushes his arms in under your body to hug you close to him. "So perfect," he whispers against your mouth. The cums start to trickle out onto the couch but neither of you care, too caught up in each other's lips.

"How are you doing sweetheart?" he asks when he comes up for a breath. "I feel a little high," you confess. "Haven't been fucked that good in a long time."

There is something in his gaze that shifts and he leans his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry. I just… I couldn't take it anymore… I like you so much." "Lucky for you I get off on that stuff," you smile. "And if I had said stop I trust you would have."

He hugs you so hard you can hardly breathe. "Of course, I fucking would." "You can make it up to me by going tender the next time," you smile. "Next time?" "As many times as you’ll have me." He laughs into your skin. "I don't think you're ready for that!"

Suddenly the sound of the doorbell jerks the two of you apart. You stare at Bucky with wide eyes. "My date," you whisper, horrified.

With a smirk, he raises himself on his arms. "I should make you go on that date with my cum running out of you, maybe even let him get as far as spreading your legs just to see that you’re already claimed."

With a groan, you cover your face with your hands. "Don't tempt me," you tell him before wiggling out from under him, finding your clothes, and hastily pulling them on.

Opening the door just a crack, you understand you look a mess by the way your date eyes you. "Sorry," your voice is small. "I wasn't feeling great and then I fell asleep on the couch." "Yeah, you look terrible," the guy notes before handing you one of the ugliest bouquets you've ever seen. Quickly stepping away he says, "I'll call you." but you know he won't. "Great, I'll see you around," you respond before closing the door.

Bucky takes the flowers from you and shoves them in the trash before grabbing you around the waist and kissing you again. "Didn't you say he was promising?" "I have no clue what you're talking about," you answer with a completely straight face but then start to giggle as he swoops you up and carries you to his bedroom.

[randomshyperson]

The Pinning Problem - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: There are several ways to resolve the rivalry between the Avengers that does not involve fighting. Or, the one where Wanda Maximoff likes to be pinned down by her not-so-secret crush, and somehow this becomes the whole team's problem.

words: 2.944k | warnings: a lot of sexual tension, kissing, hints of rivals to lovers, this is a crack fic - nothing here can be taken seriously, another alternative solution for civil war that’s better than what they did, nothing explicit but hints of sub!wanda.

A/N-. I found this on my draft, had to translate, and I have no idea what was the inspiration or writing process but I thought it was so funny, so here it is. The name is actually quite self-explanatory.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

In Wanda's defense, a sequence of events led to this unsustainable situation.

It probably started a year ago, when she had mind-tricked the team of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes and felt confident enough to try it on someone who was notoriously known for being invulnerable. It was the first time Wanda had been pinned against a wall by another person, and it was the most inopportune situation possible for any feelings other than anger and fear, so of course Wanda had never been so aroused. Things didn’t get any better after that, and in her interactions with you in the Avenger routine a while later, she would probably describe you as having some obscure desire to pin her against things.

In training, against the mat.

In the kitchen, against the counter or the fridge, with bad excuses to reach things or just because you wanted to see her blush or traumatize any team member present.

And one notable time, one that haunted her in wet dreams for weeks, against the door of the motel room you were staying in for one of the countless stakeout missions in search of clues about the Winter Soldier.

Wanda was never so grateful for a shared bathroom as the day she saw you in just a towel, hair and wet muscles exposed.

“Damn, wrong door.” You said with an innocent tone, but it didn’t seem like you had made any mistakes, the little smile giving away your true intentions.

Wanda, who had just emptied the bathroom for the next in line for the shower, clutched the towel to her body tighter, a nervous giggle escaping her.

She's never felt as powerful as she does now, using all her mental and spiritual control not to rip off those towels and grab you with the entire team to witness.

“Did you save some hot water for me, witchy?” You teased with your hand on the doorframe, too close for Wanda to breathe properly. She had to blink her concentration back, her brain barely able to focus on anything other than your inviting lips.

“Hm, I can’t say I have it.”

You lick your lips, a smile threatening to escape as Wanda's eyes followed the movement. "No problem, I need a cold shower anyway." That's what you said, using much more of her personal space than you needed to exit the room.

And for the next few weeks, Wanda could only remember that feeling, her fingers tucked deep inside her pants as she bit her lip to keep from whimpering your name to the ceiling.

The fight between Steve and Tony escalated into a catastrophe shortly after that, and Wanda had a little time to focus on other things.

That is until Clint picked her up at the Tower, and informed her that he had two stops to make. Ant-Man was the easy part, he was loud and energetic and kept Clint busy with excited questions about his life as an Avenger.

You were the proof of the gods.

With a leather jacket you got as a gift from Natasha hiding a band t-shirt that in Wanda's opinion, made you look like the most attractive person she had ever laid eyes on, you threw your backpack on the bench and squeezed in next to her.

You didn't have to press your lips to her cheek, but you did it anyway, as if you and Wanda were great friends, and you had missed her a lot in the last few weeks you hadn't seen each other with all the team's drama.

“What’s up, witchy?” It was so casual that Wanda almost believed that you two had a real relationship and not a history of arguments, teasing and staring challenges.

Clint didn't pay a second thought to the matter, he was stressed with everything that was happening to the team, and he was pleased that you were joining the fight, especially on his side. Having a demigoddess should mean an easy victory, and hopefully, without much fighting.

Staying under wraps in Europe until it was time to meet Steve at the appointed point was a minefield. Four people sharing a van, two of whom were hormonal teenagers, with some sort of battle going on over who would give in first could easily be one of the reasons Clint Barton wanted to stay retired.

Three hours into the ride, and Wanda let out another sigh from the backseat, and he had enough.

“I swear to god I’m going to make you walk all the way there.” The hawk warned, stealing a glance in the rearview mirror, quick enough for him to see you move your hand away from Wanda’s thigh. He snorted in disbelief. “That’s so inappropriate. And disgusting.”

“Don’t be homophobic, Clint.” You immediately retort, but the Avenger shook his head, chuckling reluctantly.

“I’ll tell your cousin what kind of things you do while other people are around you, young lady.” He threatened but you shrugged, an easy laugh escaping you.

“Good luck trying to slut-shame me to the god of fertility.” Your bratty response made Wanda and Scott hide a giggle.

Clint huffed in irritation. “What the hell, that’s not what I’m doing!” He defended himself, offended. “I just don’t want to be there while you make out with your girlfriend.”

You shrug. “Sounds like homophobia to me, man.”

Clint shakes his head indignantly, and tries to look at Scott for some support but the other just shrugs, with an expression that he agrees with your words. The Archer lets out a humorless laugh, and announces that he will stop for food at the next gas station he drives by.

When the stop finally happened, almost an hour later, Clint and Scott practically fled the car.

Wanda thinks she should have at least changed seats.

“Can I ask you something?” She ventured as the noise of the older Avengers talking grew more distant, as they were going to buy food at the convenience store. You hum in agreement, and Wanda swallows hard because she feels your gaze on her. “How did Barton convince you to join the fight?”

The question takes you by surprise. You change seats, and Wanda almost regrets it, but you do it just to look at her and it's more disconcerting than before.

“Why wouldn’t I join? I’m an Avenger too.” Apparently, you wanted to see her reaction. Sometimes, Wanda forgot that not everyone could read minds. Especially you, who, although you could resist any of her magic tricks, didn’t have the same abilities to do them on other people.

“I know, I meant…” She thought for a moment about the right words. “I just got the impression that Thor advised you to stay a little distant from things like that. He himself doesn’t seem to be around much for this kinda of… human and bureaucratic stuff.”

You click your tongue. “I’m human, Wanda. Half, but still.”

“I know!” she snaps back, her cheeks hot. “I just meant—”

“I know what you mean, I’m messing with you.” You cut her off with a giggle, gesturing slightly. “I’m flattered, you know? That you think I’m so strong and amazing, so superior to all of this.” You make an exaggeratedly theatrical expression, and Wanda laughs with an eye roll.

“Oh, shut up.” She retorts, and manages to make you smile too. The lightness of the interaction changes the second after this dialogue ends. You look at her in a different way, more intense and vulnerable, and Wanda swallows hard. She feels like she wants to say a million things at once, but it’s you who speaks first.

“You’re right though, I wasn’t going to get involved.” You say, your typical confidence failing for the first time since Wanda met you. “Diplomatic immunity and Asgardian royalty perks or something like that.” You joke with a weak laugh, but something about the way you’re saying it makes it impossible for Wanda to laugh, let alone breathe properly. “Clint only had to use two magic words to get me on the team.”

She swallows hard, her stomach flipping. “What words?”

You smile at the corner of your mouth, not meeting her eyes for a moment. And then you sigh deeply, and look at her. “Wanda Maximoff.”

The breath that escapes her is shaky and faltering, and you hold her gaze until she gathers her courage. You wait patiently for Wanda to approach, and you don't move at any of her hesitations, until she sighs and grabs the collar of your blouse, pulling you in with determination. Despite the urgency, the first kiss is not rushed. You let her get used to the feeling first, and pull away before Wanda has a chance to protest.

But when you dive back in the next second, you take control. Your hand cups her jaw and your mouth is hungrily against hers, teeth and tongue, devouring every whimper of need she gives you. You’re not immune to Maximoff’s charms either.” You gasp at Wanda’s taste, brow furrowed as if you’re physically unable to pull away.

But you have to, because Clint and Scott can't make a purchase longer than eight damn minutes.

The veterans climb into the car, and the archer turns to the back of the van to deliver the food and catches a glimpse of your disheveled appearances and uneven breathing and grunts of disbelief.

“For the love of god, I don’t even want to know. And don’t you dare touch my stuff!” He says, throwing the snacks into your laps as you and Wanda struggle to hide your giggles.

-&-

The plan was to sneak out, but Stark closed the airport. Steve's order was for everyone to put on their suits and follow him, but Wanda ended up trapped between the closed door of the van and your body.

“Everything okay, girls?” Captain America asked uncertainly, and without moving away, you forced a smile at Steve.

“Sure, Cap. I’ll just wish Wanda a good fight. We’ll catch up with you for a grand entrance, I promise.” It’s practically a warning that you’re going to do this regardless of Steve’s permission, so he clears his throat and waves for the team to follow him ahead.

The Avengers have barely finished walking away - she can still hear Clint complaining that the two of you haven't let go of each other when you lean your face down and kiss her.

She doesn't know what she expected, but she certainly doesn't feel prepared for this kind of kiss. Sloppy and charged with lust, just a few hours after she experienced the sensation of having your lips for the first time.

Your firm hands on her waist and the extra support of the van are the only things keeping her upright. Her wobbly legs gave out at the first bite of her lip, three kisses ago.

Between one gasp and another, and this because neither of you wants to let go, Wanda tries to remind you of what they are doing in Germany.

“We have to go. The others. The fight.” Each word comes between one kiss and another, and she’s not even trying to open her eyes, because you drag your mouth down her jaw and start pressing your lips to her neck with enough intention to make her arch her body towards you and forget the world around her.

Though you look equally affected, you manage to break the caresses with a husky chuckle. “Who the hell came up with the idea of adding a damn corset to your uniform, Wanda?”

The question makes her bite her lip, especially since she catches the way your gaze is fixed on her collarbone.

“I chose it myself. Don’t you like it?” She teases with false innocence, baiting you by puffing out her chest in your direction.

Your fingers reach up and pull at the limit of what the corset's laces will hold without opening, the gesture being suggestive enough for Wanda to tremble.

“I loved it, that’s the problem.” You murmur, evidently aroused, your mouth marking her skin again. “How do they expect me to fight with you looking like that around me. All I can think about is undressing you…” A soft bite on your lobe, and Wanda moans directly into your ear. “God, I could fuck you right here.”

“There’s no time.” She pants back, but your grip tightens a little and Wanda is sure that if you try to take her clothes off in the middle of this parking lot, she’ll help you.

“We can make time.”

But your whispered phrase carries a meaning she can’t ignore. She struggles to push her arousal away and manages to retort a hoarse “What?”

Your hands reach inside the suit's jacket, and move downward. Wanda gasps as she feels them on her ass, squeezing the flesh and forcing your hips together. The sensation is so delirious that she almost forgets she asked a question.

“We can kill time if we let the boys fight alone.” Your voice combined with all the attraction she’s kept secret for so long is like a siren song taking her mind to places far removed from Avengers intrigue, and more like beds or mats. Or anywhere you can press her, including this car. “Romanoff knows how to take care of herself, and the others wouldn’t even notice.”

“Yes, they would.” She retorts with a soft laugh before pulling your mouth back to hers. Kissing her again wakes something in you. Your hands go frantic, tugging and squeezing, and Wanda finds herself pressed completely against the iron door with one of your legs between hers. The softest press of your knee against her core makes Wanda gasp in a whimper.

You break the kiss to rest your forehead against hers. “You sound so beautiful when you make those sounds.” But she needs to put more distance between you, because she won’t be able to stop if she doesn’t do it now.

“We can’t.” She insists, one hand on your stomach to gently push you away. “Not now. And not here.” She sighs at the dark look in your eyes. “We gave you our word that we would help.”

For a moment, it looks like you’re going to ignore it, your lips brushing together, teasing away whatever sanity she has left. But then, you kiss her cheek and pull away, and Wanda would have slid down to the floor if it weren’t for van’s support.

“Okay, I’ll help.” You declare with a determination that makes Wanda swallow hard.

She barely has time to work on her appearance and has to rush to catch up with you, sprinting towards the team.

You missed the grand entrance - Things were about to start, and you interrupted a spider-clad teenager with an energy pulse that threw him away and kept him pinned to the ground.

“Sorry guys, I’m really busy today.” You announced. Everyone looked at you in shock, Tony seemed genuinely surprised to see you pick a team, and Steve seemed worried that you had changed your mind. When you started fighting with everyone, things got even more serious.

But Wanda didn't even have time to think about what it all meant; she realized that you weren't hurting them. You were bringing them together, to face them all at once.

Vision was probably the only one there who could do any damage due to the Infinity Stone, so she needed to keep him under control.

And with Spider-Boy safe and immobilized just like Vision, you screamed to the heavens.

“Heimdall, let’s take my friends for a ride!”

The Avengers only had time to widen their eyes. The transport was almost immediate.

Wanda closed her eyes, as shocked as the others, but the trip was actually smooth. While half the team was still fighting on the rainbow that led to Asgard, you held her by the waist, and the landing was calm and coordinated.

Steve was the first to approach you, as furiously as everyone else. “What do you think you’re doing? Send us back right now! We have to-”

“Sorry, I’m on vacation.” You cut him off, shrugging. Your hand is clasped in Wanda’s, who’s standing behind you.

The team all stands around, angry and surprised. Steve gives an incredulous laugh, but Tony actually laughs.

“Wow, that’s impressive, Rogers. Seriously, this time you outdid yourself in the worst decisions you could make. You didn’t think about what could happen when you called her to fight, she has the maturity of a ten-year-old!”

“Wow, and you can talk about maturity, can’t you Tony?”

You rolled your eyes, leaving them behind, cursing each other. Natasha was trying to stop King T'Challa from attacking Bucky, but none of them had a way out of here. Rhodes took off his armor helmet and was commenting on how huge Asgard was with Sam, while Clint tried to get a cell phone signal to warn Laura that he would most definitely be late. You think Ant-Man was trying to take pictures, but you got distracted by Wanda on the way through the Bifrost.

“Are we just going to leave them?” She asked, glancing at the irritated team.

You shrug. “Yeah, Heimdall will keep an eye on them. And when they calm down, the palace awaits. And you will see my royal chamber now.”

Wanda purrs, her cheeks flushed. “You’re getting pretty confident.” She teases, making you smile.

“I’m just inviting you to a late-night fondue.” You joke, and it’s Wanda’s turn to chuckle before pressing her lips against yours.

Some of the Avengers complain in the background but none of you are paying attention to them anymore.

[eurydiceauxenferswrites]

How They Fall Asleep With You- Avengers Domestic/Retirement AUs 

Just sleep, you perverts, lol. I’ll happily update with any character y’all want upon request (while I use MCU gifs, I’m happy to also include non MCU Marvel characters). This is pure wish fulfillment for me; not sharing a bed with my favorite characters, having a normal and functional sleep schedule.

Steve Rogers: Regardless of when you typically sleep, Steve will be ready and in bed by 9 o’clock sharp. If you’re a later sleeper he’ll stay up reading the news until you’re ready to head to bed, no matter how late. He prefers to stay on his back, with his hands folded on his stomach.

It takes you a bit to realize this, but his adaptability isn’t just because he loves you; Steve doesn’t actually sleep more than a few hours a night. He stays awake, staring at the ceiling for hours, just thinking. He tells you not to worry about it, because his enhanced body doesn’t actually doesn’t need all that much sleep, but you know it’s a half truth. So you do what you can to help rest a little easier, cuddling, back rubs, warm milk, whatever helps. He really does appreciate the effort you put in to make him feel loved and, frankly, to feel human again.

Also sorry for those hoping to see our dear Captain in his boxers but he wears long underwear to bed, force of habit, you don’t want to catch your death of cold whilst sleeping after all!

Bucky Barnes: You know that feeling you get when you oversleep and then you absolutely cannot fall asleep again the next night, like your sleep bar is overfull? Yeah that’s Bucky all the time. So he just doesn’t sleep with you, he helps you get ready for bed, kisses you good night, and then leaves the bedroom to do… whatever it is he does at night (he never leaves the house, though, he’s quite a homebody). If you’re a light sleeper you’re often woken up by sounds of video games, or talking, or the smell of cooking. One time you even woke up to a fire alarm because he was making grilled cheese at 3 in the morning.

When Bucky does finally sleep, he’ll crash out wherever he’s sitting, so you’ve found him snoozing on the couch, on the stairs, face first in a bowl of cereal, you name it. You usually give him a kiss, gently slip a pillow under his head, and let him get the his well deserved rest. He doesn’t have any pajamas, just some comfy boxers and ratty old t-shirts.

Natasha Romanov: You thought it was kismet how well your sleep schedules matched. You went to bed at the same time every night and woke up at the same time every morning. Just another reason why you two were such a great couple.

Until the first time you woke up in the middle of the night and realized Natasha was gone, entirely gone, not only from the bed but from the house. That’s when you found out that, actually, Natasha doesn’t have a normal sleep cycle. No don’t get me wrong, unlike our super soldier boys she does get her 8 hours, but she has a polyphasic sleep cycle, its part of her red room training. She only sleeps for 15 minutes at a time at most split intermittently throughout the day. So no, she wasn’t lying when she said she goes to sleep and wakes up with you, she just left out the parts in between. When she’s not in bed with you, she goes jogging, runs errands or hangs out with her other nocturnal friend Bucky Barnes.

Nat is the second most likely Avenger to wear lingerie to bed, silky lacy clingy slips are her go to. She knows how much you love to see her in it, she gets a kick out of watching you flush as she slips under the covers with you. But it absolutely melts her heart that you find her just as beautiful with messy hair and an oversized tee, that you love every aspect of her, not just the polished mask she’s so used to wearing.

Tony Stark: He is very particular about his bedroom specifications (projecting my Sensory Processing Disorder let’s goooooo). The temperature has to be precisely room temp, the AC humming just so, the sheets a the sheets a 45% cotton 55% rayon blend, and the night light at 3260K (within a 10K range), or else he cannot sleep a wink. And even then his sleep schedule is a complete disaster because he when he’s diving into a project he lacks the self control to go to stop his work and go to bed (mood).  He never wakes up at the same time either, sometimes he’s bright eyed and bushy tailed at 5:30 AM, sometimes he’s snoozing until noon.

He talks in his sleep, lol can’t shut up even when unconscious, his muttering range from sweet (“…hey…love you so much, you know? love you…”) to sad (“…no no please just a little more time… I can’t save them…”) to just random (“the pickle is covered in sparkles! inedible, you go to space jail”). 

He’s not entirely selfish though, he shares his toys. Has kitted out your bedroom to be state of the art, you both have an adjustable mattress, an automated light system, even a dumbwaiter for breakfast in bed. Anything you need, gorgeous, just say the word. 

Absolutely wears lingerie to bed, the hottest and most impractical he can find. If the paparazzi plan on invading his privacy again, he’s promised to give them a show they’ll never forget. 

Clint Barton: Clint’s sleep has also been majorly affected by his career, but unlike his partner Nat he still sleeps a normal 8 hours at a time. Clint has cultivated the ability to fall asleep anywhere he needs to. He often dozes on the couch next to you while watching tv. As long as he can feel you next to him, as long as he knows you’re safe, he feels safe too. 

When Clint takes off his hearing aid, he’s a very heavy sleeper, almost impossible to wake up. He’s also a very still sleeper, hardly ever moves around, he does snore however. If that bothers you, feel free to flip him to his side, I promise it won’t disturb his beauty sleep at all. He does have pyjama set, unlike some of his teammates he’s a civilized man.

Thor Odinson: Has the classic rich kid sleep schedule; stays up late, sleeps in until brunch. If you’re the sort who prefers an early bedtime, he’ll do his best to not disturb you when he crawls into bed; although, if you’re a light sleeper, you’ll probably notice his clumsy attempts at stealth. 

Sleeping in the same bed as Thor is definitely a mix of pros and cons. The cons: he snores like thunder and he’s a major space hog. The pros: he sleeps entirely nude. He’s also a cuddler and surprisingly soft for such a muscular man. He likes to slip his arm under your head to support it and pull you close while you sleep (although if you’re the sort that prefers their space while sleeping, YMMV on whether this is a perk or not). Also, if you have insomnia of any kind, he’ll stay up as late as you need helping you fall asleep, whispering Asgardian folktales, or even making it rain just so for the perfect white noise. 

Bruce Banner: Bruce has transformed during nightmares before, so he’s honestly somewhat scared of sleeping in the same bed as you, the last thing he wants is to hurt you. If you insist, he’ll try though (“alright, it’s your funeral”). So far, things have been going well; the worst that’s happened is you’ve been accidentally pushed out of bed once or twice, or woken up by oversized grumbling, but it doesn’t stop him from worrying that one day Hulk will hit you in his sleep (accidentally, of course, Hulk is as soft for you as Banner is). Always puts up a pillow wall when he sleeps. Sometimes suffers from insomnia, takes a lot of melatonin gummies. If you have insomnia, he’ll give you the driest densest scientific literature he can find (well, dry to you, to him its fascinating, but he accepts your lack of interest in advances in the modeling of molecular orbital theory for actinides using machine learning programs or whatever dishwater dull nuclear physics he’s reading about this week). Sleeps with nothing on but a pair of super stretchy pants in case of Hulk emergency. Almost always sleeps in the fetal position.

Sam Wilson: Once again winning the Most Adult award, Sam works hard to make sure he has a consistent sleep schedule because he understands how important it is. He’s usually in bed by 8:30-9 and spends an hour or so reading with a nightlight and maybe a cup of tea until he feels sleepy. He’s not especially picky about his sleeping spaces, with one exception; he expects you to respect the sanctity of quiet time. That means no talking, no running around, no tv, maybe some music if he’s feeing crazy. Cuddling is always welcome, of course, as long as he can still read with you curled up in his arms. If you don’t behave he’s happy to banish you to the foldout couch. It’s nothing personal but it’s important to him that he has a chance to decompress at the end of the day and he knows how to set good boundaries. 

Sam wakes up pretty early, around 6, so he can get a morning jog in and get ready for his day. He’ll always cook for you in the morning  and he’ll even make you breakfast in bed if he has the time. Sam wears pajama pants but typically goes shirtless at night. Likes to sleep on his side, facing you, so you’ll be the first thing he sees when he wakes up in the morning.

Loki: Not the easiest person to sleep with. He’s very picky, not in specific details like Tony, more that he expects a certain standard of luxury, a bedroom fancy enough for a prince. He’s also a very selfish bedmate, since he’s not used to sharing his space. He’s a pillow hog and blanket thief and also like, ice cold so if you run hot then that’s great for you but if not, good luck lol). Still, he does like sleeping with you, he’s a clingy sort, so maybe take the L and indulge him once in a while. Goes to bed as late as he pleases and considers waking up before 10 to be “early” in classic royal fashion. 

Has a giant sized plushie he squeezes while sleeping (Ah yes. You, your boyfriend, and his 4 foot tall Jeff the Landshark). Wears the most dramatic slinky old timey night robe ever, it has the tendency to start slipping off ;). 

Frank Castle: Frank had been nocturnal for a long time. He’d get restless sleep in the day, in the back of his van or in a safe house, usually in a sleeping bag and a pile of laundry, and of course without changing or brushing his teeth. 

Since moving in with you, he’s tried to clean up his act. He gets in bed and wakes up around the same time as you (assuming you have a somewhat regular sleep schedule, if not he’s in at 10ish and up at 6:30ish), he has pajamas you bought together and always takes a shower right before bed, he’s slowly being re-domesticated. Frank always makes the bed after you’ve both woken up, force of habit from his military training. His alarm clock is set at the lowest level but he still jumps out of bed like somebody’s crashed a cymbal next to his ear, his vigilante past has left him pretty high strung. He’s also plagued by nightmares, of the death of his family, of the horrors he’s seen, of you suffering the same fate. He twists around and whimpers in his sleep, the best way to stop them is to cuddle, nothing helps him sleep like being the big spoon, feeling you safely tucked inside his arms. 

[drdawnbreaker]

That post you made about Bucky and smoking got me thinking about how it would definitely be Steve walking in and I’m wondering if you could make a small little blurb about it 🫶🏻

Ooo yes, yes!! I have made two versions under the cut teehee. One is more comedic and light-hearted while the other is more smutty, hehe. Enjoy my anonnie <3 (also, if anyone hasn't read the first part, click here eee)

-

Fluff/Light-hearted verison

I feel like poor Stevie would be so shocked he would turn into a frozen soldier in the doorway. Imagine Tony has made a team meeting for god knows what, and he needed all his team members to attend. But yet you and Bucky were missing... again. So Steve, with a sigh, goes off to look for the both of you. But when he got to his bestfriends room, what he was about to be greeted with turned him into an unconfident boy too stunned to speak.

You were spread out on the island bench, your legs over Buckys' shoulders as the smell of weed hits Steve like a truck. Bucky would be drilling into you with so much force that your tits would be bouncing like crazy making Steve's ears turn red in a blink. What was worse, you noticed him almost immediately, and your loud moan turned into a gasp of poor Stevie's name. The noise would go straight to Steve's cock but with his hand quickly over his eyes he stuttered,

"Oh my.. I'm so ...uh..s-sosroyy. Iljustgoohmygod." There was not breath between his words as he turned to the exit. He almost ran into the door frame cause of his hand still tightly on his eyes, but luckily, he got out safely, making haste down the hall until he was back into the meeting room. Everyone was staring at him with a "well?" Expression but with Steve's bright ears, neck, and cheeks, most of them could quickly imagine what he had witnessed. And his small words would only confirm it...

"T...they are busy."

-

Spicy version

So think of the same situation right, but this time when Steve walked in, instead of being a stunned little deer. This bitch is cocky as much. His arms crossed as he leaned against the hall entrance wall, watching as you ride Bucky like your life depends on it while Buck lays spread on his couch. Your eyes met Steve before Bucky could notice. Your foggy brain would scream in joy that your Stevie had found you in such a compromised situation. Neither bucky or you have never denied to each other that Steve was hella attractive and the idea of inviting him had sprung on multiple occasions but they were quickly turned down when you both came to the conclusion of not wanting to scare your best friend away.

Yet, here he is. Standing proud watching you fuck yourself on Bucky thick cock while his grew tighter in his jeans. You suddenly gasped out Steve's name, making Bucky chuckle, knowing his best friend would be the one to come find them. So, without another beat, Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist and snapped his hips up into you before grunting. "You joining or what punk?"

His voice was muffled from the way your tits bounced in his face with each thrust, his tongue teasing your sensitive nipples. Your eyes darted between the two of them, almost stunned that Bucky just offered you up on a silver platter to Steve. And Steve was more than happy to provide. Stripping himself of his shirt, you watched as he stalked you like fresh meat. It was only then when it dwelled on you that this wasn't the first time Bucky and Steve had discussed something like this. It was all too calculated and controlled for either of them to be winging it.

Steve took charge, his movements confident and purposeful as he snatched you off your boyfriend's cock before either of you could finish. Both men could see the way your juices that had a mix of Bucky's precum had dripped down your thigh, coating your cunt and beautiful soft skin. Bucky, ever the accommodating partner, allowed himself to be guided away, giving Steve the spotlight for the moment. And be guided away ment spreading his thighs wide with a smug expression as he lazily played with his cock. “Be a good girl for Stevie.”

With you now suddenly bent over the couch, your hands gripped the cushions while Steve stood behind you, his erection pressing against your bare red ass. He ran his hand gently over your smooth skin, tracing the curve of your waist before delivering a sharp slap to your right cheek. "Such a pretty thing you are, sugar," he growled, his voice deep and raw with desire.

You let out a startled moan, your mind spinning over the escalated situation. Your body was trembling from the sharp impact. But the sting only served to heighten your arousal, and you couldn't help but push your back against Steve's hand, craving more of his attention. Steve of course, happily obliged, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, leaving a faint pink mark that would surely bruise later.

“Such a good girl. Such a cute cunt too. And to think Bucky has been keeping you to himself for so long.” Steve almost sounding mockingly. Your boyfriend, who was still sitting at the end of the couch but now facing you two, laughed in response after taking a drag of the almost forgotten blunt on the coffee table.

“Can you blame me? If I could, I'd be inside her pretty pussy every goddamn day.” You couldn't help but mewl over the fact both of the super soldiers were talking about you as if you weren't here. Like you were their sacred prize that they had finally won.

“You like that huh, Sugar? Being stuffed full all the time.” Steve positioned himself at your leaking entrance, his cock throbbing with anticipation. “Bet you'd love it if we fucked you every hour. Filling you up with so much cum that you'll always be dripping for us.”

You cried as he plunged into you, deep and hard. Your eyes rolled back as you gasped out Steve's name over and over while your fingers dug into the couch, her nails leaving indentations in the fabric.

Steve's hips moved in a steady rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of your tight pussy. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, along with Bucky's sharp snaps of his metal wrist.

Your moans grew louder, your body writhing with each thrust. Steve's hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he pounded into you relentlessly. You could feel his balls slapping against your clit with each forward thrust, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. “Steve I…I!”

“There, There Doll. I got you.” You felt your boyfriend's metal fingers graze over your wet cheeks. When did he move? you didn't have time to question before Bucky brought the blunt to your mouth, letting you inhale the intoxicating drug before patting the tip of his cock against your left cheek. “Open up for me, baby girl.”

You obliged excitedly, taking bucky down your soft throat. He planted his feet and knees firmly against the back of the couch as he began to slowly grind his hips against you. If someone were to walk in they'd get a perfect view of the white wolfs ass as he fucked your mouth raw while they'd be gifted a gorgeous sight of the captain america in pure pleasure. His head dipped back while his strong arms flexed with each thrust.

"Yes, sugar, take it all," Steve grunted, his cock head hitting the perfect spot against your gummy walls. "You like having two cocks inside you, don't you?"

You could only nod, her throat burning while you quickly got lost in the haze of pleasure. Steve's cock felt incredible, stretching you in ways Bucky's never could. Cause while bucky was long, Steve held girth. You felt yourself teetering on the brink of orgasm, your body trembling with the effort to hold back. “Bet you'd enjoy being fucked in both holes.”

“Oh She'd love it. Every time i fuck her tight ass, she always begs for a cock in her cunt too. Like the perfect little slut.” Bucky mocked fisting your hair, tangling it in his fingers as he left himself dip close to his high.

The sensation of being fucked by both men simultaneously was overwhelming enough but with the weed in your system it was like you were suddenly set into overdrive. Your body quivered, your pussy clenching around Steve's cock as you finally surrendered to your climax. Your muffled screams were music to the men's ears, making them both groan in response.

Steve's thrusts became more urgent, his own orgasm building as he felt your pussy pulsating around his thick shaft. Bucky's hips worked their magic, and your body started to convulse with wave after wave of aftershock. “Fuck I'm gonna cum down your pretty throat baby. Be ready to swallow every drop like a good girl.”

Bucky snapped his hips one final time before emptying his seed into your mouth, some of it leaked out around his shaft as he pulled out quickly, watching it drip down your chin and onto the floor but you did manage to swallow most of it. Opening your mouth with a flat tongue afterwards to show him of your good work. “Fuck, good job baby.”

Steve groaned next as his body tensed. He emptied his load deep inside your ruined Cunt. While Bucky, stroking his softening cock, leaned in to kiss you passionately, his hot breath contrasting with the cool air you had intook. As their breathing slowed, the three of you remained entangled, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

“We are totally doing that again.” Your plea made both men chuckle, knowing this was the start of something unexpected but extremely exciting.

-

I didn't know how to end that ahah. So it's a little weird, but oh well, i hope you enjoyed it. And who knows, i make more with these three. And maybe let steve have a go taking his first blunt hehehe

[sweetromanova]

Fur Better or Worse: Part Two🐈‍⬛

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff has survived aliens, norse gods and the world ending and now her cat is apparently on a mission to ruin her life, one litter at a time.

Word Count: 10k

A/N: i got so busy that i had to rush the editing and now i hate this but enjoy anyway! part three, the finale, coming tomorrow!

Chapter Two

The elevator doors barely finished opening before you charged out, storming across the floor like a woman on a mission. Wanda was one step behind you, trying and failing not to laugh. In your arms, Nova was meowing loudly, miserable and dramatic, like she was singing the theme song of her own heartbreak.

The second you stepped into the common room, the noise doubled because Liho was already there, pacing in tight, frantic circles by the balcony doors, howling like someone had taken his soulmate. Technically they had.

The whole team was gathered, half eating, half watching in muted horror as the two cats wailed for each other across the room like they were being separated in an operatic wartime tragedy.

You didn’t even hesitate. You pointed directly at Liho like he owed you child support.

“YOU.”

Liho froze mid-yowl, his tail twitched.

You turned to the room, face thunderous. “Does anyone here have any idea what this- this sleek little criminal has done?”

Clint raised his hand slowly. “He chewed through my earbuds again?”

“He bit through the laces on my shoe again?”

“He peed in my slippers again?”

“He got my cat pregnant.” You wailed. “And now my poor baby is having his little criminal kittens!”

Tony dropped his chopsticks.

Bruce made a choking noise into his tea.

Nova meowed, mournfully.

Liho howled louder.

Natasha, from the armchair, set her drink down slowly. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t you dare play dumb with me.” You snapped, marching closer. “Your demon cat has been harassing her for weekend and now my cat is vomiting, hormonal and carrying his children.”

Steve blinked. “I thought we found the hanging out cute.”

“It was until he decided to just impregnate who the hell he wanted too!”

Natasha stood slowly. “Maybe if your cat had any sense of self-respect, she wouldn’t be throwing herself into other people’s ventilation systems.”

You gasped. “Are you calling my cat a homewrecker?!”

“She puked in my closet!”

“She’s nesting! It’s a natural response to pregnancy!”

“She clawed through my bra drawer!”

“Again nesting. Maybe your cat should’ve brought her a damn mouse to chase, over mounting her!”

Clint was crying into a pillow.

Sam pulled out his phone. “Hold on, I need to stream this.”

“I should’ve known.” You said, shaking your head, holding Nova like a betrayed single parent on a CW drama. “He’s got that whole ‘mysterious loner’ vibe. Teaching her how to creep in through the vents, whispering sweet nothings in the dark. My poor girl never stood a chance.”

Liho, at this point, was practically yodeling.

Natasha gestured wildly. “He’s fixed! He shouldn’t be able to do anything!”

You pointed at Nova. “Well somebody beat the odds, Natasha.”

“I- He- I’m going to get him tested. I want a paternity confirmation and an apology letter!”

“Maybe your cat should write one for the emotional damage!”

Wanda looked between the two of you, lips twitching. “Should I start knitting tiny kitten booties or…”

Thor beamed. “Will there be a naming ceremony? I can prepare the ceremonial fish platter!”

Tony held up both hands. “Alright. Let the record show I had nothing to do with this.”

Bucky leaned against the wall, deadpan. “I told you they were hooking up.”

Steve rubbed a hand down his face. “The cats, Bucky. Not the handlers.”

Wanda snorted. “Yet.”

Natasha and you turned to her at the same time. “Shut up, Wanda.”

Nova let out one last pitiful cry and Liho finally launched himself across the couch, landing at your feet, pressing against Nova like a feline soap opera reunion.

You stared.

Natasha stared.

You both looked up.

“…Well.” You muttered, arms still crossed. “I guess they’re in love.”

“Disgusting.” Natasha said under her breath but she didn’t move.

You looked at her again.

The tension was still there but now it was a different kind, you just couldn’t tell what kind. You leaned down to let Nova down, she purred softly, nuzzling Liho’s nose.

“Congratulations Grandma-“ Clint cooed before his head snapped back, a pillow launched by the redhead nearly busting his nose. “Jesus Nat-“

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The kitchen was uncomfortably quiet.

Sam, Bucky and Wanda were strategically scattered. Wanda by the tea, Sam pretending to be engrossed in cereal and Bucky standing by the fridge holding an egg like he’d forgotten what it was.

You stepped into the kitchen half-asleep, hoodie pulled over your head, socks mismatched and still holding Nova, who had developed a dramatic new habit of refusing to be more than six inches away from your body at all times.

She meowed faintly. You kissed the top of her head like a tired single parent on her third cup of coffee.

And then the air shifted.

Because Natasha walked in.

She looked perfect, of course flawless, no under-eye circles, sleek in black, with Liho slinking at her heels like a smug, silky little menace.

You didn’t say anything.

She didn’t either.

The tension was so thick you could’ve served it on toast. Natasha poured herself a cup of black coffee like she was preparing for battle.

“Nova looks… well.” She said, dryly.

“She threw up on my pillow at 3am.” You muttered. “She’s thriving.”

Liho leapt effortlessly onto the table, circling Nova with a soft trill. She gave a tired little chirp and curled against him.

Bucky glanced at them, then at you. “Guess they’re nesting?”

You sipped your coffee. “That’s how we got into this in the first place.”

 “They’re disgusting. She’s obsessed with him.”

You didn’t look at her. “Careful. You don’t want to start this again.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You implied.”

“Maybe your cat shouldn’t be so… available.”

You turned sharply. “I’m sorry, did you just call my cat a whore?”

“She’s pregnant after knowing Liho two weeks. I’m just stating the facts.”

You blinked. “You know what? Fine. She may be a whore. A glowing, hormonal, needy little one who deserves support during this difficult time.”

Bucky dropped his egg.

Natasha stared. “Support?”

“Yes.” You said, stepping toward her, calm and clear. “Kitten support. Liho has responsibilities now. I expect food contributions, litter maintenance and at least one of those heated beds from the Stark Pet Tech line. Oh and you’re also on vomit duty.”

Sam choked on his cereal. “Wait, are you serious right now?”

You didn’t blink. “Dead serious.”

Liho sneezed on the counter.

Natasha’s expression didn’t move but something in her eyes twitched. “You want me to buy your cat a pregnancy gift basket?”

“I want co-parenting accountability.”

“And what happens when they break up?”

“They won’t.” You said, arms crossed. “They’re in love. And if they do? I get the kittens every weekend and you pay vet bills.”

Natasha sipped her coffee. “You’re insane.”

You leaned in slightly. “And you’re legally responsible for child support, Romanoff.”

She didn’t flinch.

Neither did you.

The cats purred between you.

And across the kitchen, Sam whispered: “This is better than reality TV.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The emergency alert hit your comm at 1:38am. There had been an incident that required immediate attention and now Hill and Fury had you? They were sending you in to deal with the clean up. To fight the government representatives of the countries, to disagree with militaries and to hopefully walk out with your self intact. 

You were halfway asleep, Nova curled across your stomach like a heating pad when the Tower lights blinked and the override buzzed in your ear. You groaned, carefully sliding out from beneath her weight.

By the time you were dressed and geared up, she was mewling at the door, bumping her head against your boots.

Wanda appeared behind you, barefoot, hair a mess, cradling a sleepy mug of tea like she’d already seen this coming.

“I’ve got her.” She said gently, crouching down to scoop Nova up. “Go. Save the world. We’ll watch reality TV and nap in protest.”

You hesitated.

“She needs the hypoallergenic blanket, the one with the paw prints and her breakfast at 5:30, no later and she loves the yellow food, even though she pretends not to.”

Wanda smiled. “Go. She’ll be fine.”

You exhaled, nodded once and left.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Six hours later, Nova started pacing.

She didn’t want the yellow food.

She didn’t want to cuddle.

She just… cried. Quietly. Constantly.

Wanda tried everything but eventually, Nova wandered down the hallway and pawed at Natasha’s door until it slid open.

And that was how Natasha Romanoff, world-class assassin, spy, queen of emotional repression found herself blinking at a tearful, swollen, attention-starved pregnant cat, meowing like she’d lost her life partner.

Natasha stared.

Nova meowed louder.

“…Fine.”

-

By noon, Nova had claimed the left side of the couch.

By 3pm, Liho had joined her.

By 5pm, Natasha was threatening lives.

“Clint.” She snapped, eyes laser-focused from across the room. “Don’t give her pad thai.”

“She likes pad thai- Ow!” She smacked him upside the head, not hard but enough to make a point. 

“She’s pregnant. Her stomach’s sensitive. Do you want her throwing up on your shoes again?”

Clint raised his hands like she was holding a weapon.

Steve opened his mouth.

“Shut it.”

Steve closed it.

Wanda returned from a nap and blinked in surprise to see Natasha draping a blanket over both cats, Liho curled protectively around Nova like a bodyguard.

“You good?” Wanda asked, cautiously.

“I’m on watch.” Natasha said, deadpan, spooning a measured amount of ridiculously expensive, Stark-funded organic nutrient-rich cat food into two porcelain bowls.

Wanda blinked. “Is that the gourmet prenatal mix Tony got as a joke?”

“She needs the calcium.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You stood in the doorway of the common room, arms still half-armored, a smear of dried blood across your cheek, staring at the domestic miracle unfolding in front of you.

Nova was curled into Liho, purring softly. A blanket had been tented over both of them, creating a cozy, insulated nook. The lights were dimmed. A white-noise speaker was running in the background. A white-noise speaker.

And Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow, actual terrifying war machine was seated on the floor beside them, legs folded neatly, arms resting on her knees like she had absolutely not just built a sanctuary for your hormonal cat and her inconvenient boyfriend.

Feeding them from a crystal bowl.

Your jaw dropped.

“Are you… hand-feeding them?”

“Nova prefers it.” She said simply, not turning around. “She gets overwhelmed with the bowl lately.”

You walked slowly closer, blinking at the scene like it might dissolve. The expensive formula, the soft lighting and the tower of pillows built like a palace.

Nova lifted her head and gave you a sleepy meow.

“She was fussy at first.” Natasha added. “Cried a lot. Needed pressure on her lower spine. I had to improvise a heating pad situation.”

You were quiet a long moment.

“She’s okay?”

Natasha finally turned to you.

“She’s fine.”

She paused.

“…You did good.”

She didn’t reply to that.

“Are those… Tony’s wine glasses?”

“She likes drinking from them.”

You cleared your throat gently. “I can take her now.”

Natasha didn’t even blink. “She just got comfortable.”

You stepped closer. “Really, I can carry her back-“

“Don’t.” Her tone was cool, quick. “She’s fine here.”

You blinked. “Okay…”

“I mean, unless you want to stress her out by moving her again.” Natasha’s eyes flicked to you, casual but just sharp enough to land.

You blinked. “I… no. Obviously not.”

She stood smoothly, brushing nonexistent dust from her leggings. “She needed someone here. That’s all.”

You watched her, unsure how to respond.

“She cried when you left.” Natasha added, quieter now. “Didn’t settle for hours and she wouldn’t eat the yellow food.”

Your lips twitched. “Told Wanda that.”

Natasha didn’t smile but something softened around her eyes.

“She’s okay.” She said again, more gently this time. “She’s sleeping now. And you… look like you’re about to drop.”

“I’m fine.” You said automatically.

“You’re filthy.” Natasha said, crossing her arms. “And your eye’s twitching.”

“Battle stress.”

“You flinched at the word ‘blanket.’”

You hesitated.

Natasha glanced toward the cats. “Go. Shower. Sleep for the first time in over 24 hours. You’ve done enough.”

You paused. “You sure?”

She gave you a look. “Do I look unsure?”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. And, somehow, you didn’t want to.

“…Thank you.”

She nodded once. “Don’t mention it.”

Literally. Don’t.

You stepped back, lingering just a second too long, just enough to see her crouch beside Nova again, tucking the blanket gently closer to her side.

And as you turned the corner, you could just hear her voice, low and soft.

“Don’t worry, little menace. I’ve got you.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You’d barely slept four hours.

The crisis that had dragged you out of the Tower in the dead of night had turned into a bureaucratic avalanche the moment the dust settled. Debriefings, field reports, internal SHIELD memos, one after another after another, each one less urgent but somehow more paperwork heavy than the last.

By the time you finally escaped your comms and stumbled toward the common room, you felt like you were held together with caffeine and stubbornness.

The room was quiet.

Peaceful.

For the first time all morning, no alarms, no glowing briefings, no world-ending emails.

Just Nova, bundledin her blanket on the couch, eyes half-lidded, tail flicking lazily.

You exhaled, tension bleeding from your shoulders all at once. She looked up at you with a soft mrrp, and you dropped your bag right where you stood and crossed the room without a second thought.

“Hi, baby.” You murmured, kneeling down beside her. “Did they treat you okay while I was gone?”

Nova climbed into your lap with zero hesitation, curled into you like she’d been waiting just for this moment. You wrapped your arms around her, resting your chin on her head.

“She missed you.” Came Wanda’s voice from somewhere nearby, soft and amused.

Sam leaned over the back of the couch with a grin. “We all placed bets on whether she’d start a hunger strike or start nesting in Natasha’s sock drawer again.”

You laughed quietly. “She likes that sock drawer. Don’t judge her.”

As you scratched gently under her chin, you reached for the dish of food already set on the coffee table and tried to coax her toward it.

“Nope.” You whispered, frowning as she turned her nose. “Come on, sweet girl. Eat something.”

Nova gave a little whine and pushed further into your lap like she was personally offended at the suggestion.

Your heart jumped a little.

You had filled her bowl this morning at 5am before you had been dragged back to work and it was still full… which meant she hadn’t eaten for the whole day.

“Hey.” You said gently, nudging the bowl. “You need this, okay? You’ve got tiny freeloaders in there now. You can’t just-“

“She’s not going to eat that.” Natasha’s voice, flat and matter-of-fact echoed into the room.

You turned your head. She was leaning against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

You blinked. “What?”

“She doesn’t eat that now.” Natasha said, walking over slowly, reaching into a drawer near the coffee station.

“She- what? She loves this brand.”

“She used to.” Natasha said, pulling out a can, matte black, gold label, clearly Stark-funded nonsense. “Now she’s decided she’ll only eat this. Vitamin-enriched. Good for her coat. Better for her kittens. Liho won’t touch it.”

You stared at her as she opened it with smooth precision, scooped a small portion into a clean glass bowl and placed it down with a little flourish.

Nova immediately perked up, tail twitching. She dove in like you hadn’t offered her food in days.

Your jaw dropped. “She’s eating that?”

Natasha sat on the arm of the couch, cool and casual. “She’s picky now. She must get that from you.”

You blinked.

Everyone else pretended not to watch the moment. Wanda took a sip of tea, hiding her smirk. Sam mouthed told you to Bucky.

You cleared your throat. “…Thanks.”

Natasha didn’t look at you, just nodded once. “She’s my responsibility now, too.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You were halfway through your first sip of coffee when you walked into the common room and found Wanda and Natasha already seated by the windows, Liho sunbathing across Natasha’s thighs like a smug rug.

Wanda looked up, smiling. “Morning.”

“Barely.” You muttered. “If this coffee doesn’t hit soon I’m gonna start chewing drywall.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Charming.”

You ignored her, sipping again. Nova padded into the room behind you, tail flicking, rubbing her face lazily against your boots.

Wanda reached down to scratch behind her ears. “Where are you two off to?”

You yawned. “Vet check-up. Being here has its perks, Pepper got Dr Montgomery to come to the medbay. Routine stuff.”

You could feel it before you heard it.

Natasha, stiff and flat. “You weren’t going to tell me?”

You blinked. “It’s just a check-up.”

“She’s our cat.” Natasha replied coolly, folding her arms.

“She’s my cat.” You corrected, just as flat. “You’re the baby-daddy liaison.”

Wanda sipped her tea aggressively to hide a smile.

“She’s carrying my kittens, I’m coming.” Natasha said, standing like this was a military deployment.

“Why?”

“She might need me.”

“She needs vitamins and a weigh-in. Not an assassin.”

Natasha was already pulling on her jacket. “I’m coming.”

You looked at Wanda, pleading for help with your eyes.

Wanda beamed. “Have fun, co-parents.”

Traitor. 

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The vet was unfazed by the tension, which only made it worse. Nova sat on the table, purring dramatically as Dr. Montgomery performed the check-up with practiced ease.

“She’s gained a healthy amount of weight.” She said, cheerfully. “Good signs. Nice muscle tone, minimal swelling, textbook progress. She’s definitely close now.”

You beamed. “She’s doing amazing.”

Natasha hovered over the table. “She’s been napping more.”

“Very common.”  Dr. Montgomery nodded. “They rest a lot just before the nesting phase kicks into overdrive. Soon she’ll be trying to find a quiet, safe place to deliver.”

“She has a corner under my desk she likes.” You offered.

Natasha frowned. “She’s been sleeping under my bed. That’s safer. It’s quieter.”

“She doesn’t like your bed.” You said automatically.

“She hates your music.”

“She fell asleep to it last night.”

Dr. Montgomery blinked between you. “…Do you two co-parent often?”

You both spoke at once:

“No.”

“Obviously not.”

-

By the time you returned to the common room, Nova back in your arms and Liho glued to her side again, it felt like something had shifted.

Because Clint was measuring the hallway with a tape measure. Steve was holding what appeared to be a Pinterest printout labeled “DIY Kitten Nursery: Modern Boho Aesthetic.”

And Tony?

Tony rolled past on a hoverboard holding a champagne flute. “Party’s on Saturday.”

You blinked. “What party?”

“The kitten shower.” He said, casually. “Obviously.”

“What-“

“Celebrating the miracle of life. Or, more specifically, the fact that your hormonal cat is finally about to unleash four to six chaos agents upon this building, and I, for one, welcome our tiny feline overlords.”

“You’re throwing a party for my cat.”

Tony pointed the flute at you. “Our cat. And yes. Dress code is cocktail casual. Clint’s bringing streamers.”

Steve gave you a solemn nod. “There’s a gift registry. Vision compiled it.”

Thor appeared from the hallway, beaming. “I’ve been practicing my toast. ‘To Nova: may your kittens be strong, cunning and land always on their feet.’”

Natasha leaned close and muttered to you. “We’re not naming them after Norse gods.”

“You do not get to veto this party either.” Tony called. “You’re already listed as ‘Co-Mother Figure B.’”

Natasha froze. “Excuse me?”

“Well…” You grinned. “It’s official now. Want to help me pick out a dress?”

She turned toward you, deadpan. “Only if it comes with a built in exit strategy.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The party was already ridiculous.

Tony had spared no expense. There were themed drinks “Pawgronis,” “Meowtinis,” “The Pregnant Pause”, all served with cat-shaped ice cubes. There was a banner strung across the ceiling that read WELCOME, TINY FURRY AGENTS OF CHAOS. And Clint had actually put together a slideshow, with transitions.

You were halfway through a conversation with Sam about whether kittens could be trained for recon ops when someone at the bar said, casually, confidently: “Tell me you’re the mom. Otherwise, I’m about to embarrass myself.”

You turned to find Carol Danvers leaning casually against the bar, smirking like she’d just landed a jet and still had adrenaline in her shoulders.

“I- what?”

She grinned. “Cat. Pregnant. Shower. I’m guessing you’re the mom. Unless the cat planned this party herself, in which case, I respect that more.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. “Yeah, I’m the mom.”

“Carol.” She said, extending a hand.

“I know.” You smiled, shaking her hand. “Big fan of your intergalactic chaos.”

“And I’m suddenly a fan of domestic chaos.” She grinned. “Especially when it shows up looking like that.”

You shared a quiet moment before she nodded toward Natasha, who was watching from across the room, expression unreadable.

“Is Romanoff the co-parent?”

“Yeah.”

Carol’s grin deepened. “Hope she knows how to share.”

She gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “Catch you later.”

And with that, Carol melted back into the party.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Later, you were curled on the couch near the fire pit, Nova asleep on your lap wrapped in a blanket, the party humming around you.

The team’s laughter filled the air but your gaze kept drifting to Natasha, standing quietly nearby, arms crossed, watching.

You wanted to reach out but words tangled in your throat.

Then, without warning, Natasha’s voice cut through the laughter.

“Where’s Nova?”

Your heart stopped. “She was right here.”

Natasha’s jaw clenched. “She’s not.”

Panic fluttered inside you. “She jumped down a few minutes ago. I thought-“

“Thought?” Natasha’s voice was sharp, eyes flashing. “She’s due soon and they could come early! What if she’s scared? What if something’s wrong and no one’s there?”

The room stilled.

You swallowed hard, shame blooming in your chest. “I didn’t mean-“

“She trusts you.” Natasha said quietly, voice harsh. “And you were too busy laughing and playing at a party to notice.”

Tears pricked your eyes and you blinked them back.

“Natasha-“

“Save it. One of us needs to care about her.” With that, she was off, a mix of pure fury and red hair.

Carol stepped forward, placing a steady hand on your shoulder. “Hey. You’re not careless.” She said softly. “Nat’s just scared. She cares deeply and-“

You could tell she was just making excuses and you wanted to tell her as much but before you could respond, Tony’s voice boomed over the speakers, holding up security footage.

“There she is. Safe, sleeping on the counter with the devil’s cat.”

The party surged back to life.

But for you, the tension lingered.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Later that night, Carol guided you gently to your room. Her hand never left your back.

You weren’t sobbing, just quietly unraveling. The weight of Natasha’s words pressed on you and a few too many glasses of champagne in your system.

“She doesn’t hate you.” Carol said softly, brushing hair from your face.

You gave a bitter laugh. “She yelled at me in front of everyone.”

Carol smiled, patient and sure. “That’s love, in a way. Hard to say, easier to shout.”

You looked at her, surprised.

“She’s scared of letting you in, just like you’re scared of letting her.” Carol said. “You don’t have to figure it out tonight. Just… rest.”

“It’s not a fan fiction Carol, it’s not an enemies to lovers trope where she pulls my hair then pins me up against a wall.”

“You wish.” Carol smirked, a knowing glint in her eyes.

“What?! N- No, I don’t!”

“Get in.” She laughed, pulling back the duvet.

You let yourself sink under the blankets, Nova curling against you, Liho joining like she belonged.

“You’re good at this.” You whispered. “No space wife waiting for you?”

“Not yet.” Carol smiled. “I’ve had worse patients. Sleep well.”

She slipped out, leaving you with a quiet warmth you hadn’t expected.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Outside, Natasha waited, arms crossed, eyes narrowing as Carol approached.

“She was upset.” Carol explained, quietly. “I walked her to bed.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened. “You don’t waste time.”

“I don’t.” Carol replied. “Because she lets me. And because I don’t treat her like a problem.”

Natasha’s eyes flickered with something deeper.

“She’s brave. Ridiculously competent. But you make her feel like she’s always fighting for your respect.”

“She doesn’t know what it’s like.”

“No, you don’t.” Carol said softly. “But if you don’t start saying something soon, you’ll lose her.”

Carol turned and walked away.

Natasha stood alone, burning with frustration, no longer sure who she was angry at.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The following week, you watched as the warehouse loomed ahead, shadows spilling from broken windows and rusted metal doors. The mission was straightforward, a low-risk extraction from a small gang holding a key informant. Nothing Natasha couldn’t handle in her sleep but this was about the recruits getting hands-on experience. She’d volunteered to come along, not to lead but to oversee. Let them take control. Learn.

Cole, the lead agent for the group, strode ahead with a confidence that teetered on arrogance. Mid-twenties, fresh-faced and full of swagger. 

Natasha’s gaze flicked to him briefly then back to the building’s darkened entrance. She folded her arms and kept pace behind the team.

Over comms, you guided the operation from a safe distance, your voice calm and steady. “Team, remember the plan. Move in quietly, secure the target and extract without engagement if possible.”

Cole’s voice crackled back, a little too casual. “Got it. Keep your eyes sharp, team. We’re in and out.”

The initial approach was textbook. The recruits moved efficiently, clearing rooms and coordinating through whispered comms. But as they neared the target’s location, Cole’s tone shifted. He began issuing commands that bent the plan, rushing corners, skipping the usual checks, ignoring your calls for caution.

You tried to smooth it over through the earpiece, your voice calm but firm. “Cole, hold your position. We need to stick to the plan. Check the hallway before moving forward.”

Static flickered, then Cole’s voice came through, rough and impatient. “Comms are useless in the field. I’m done babysitting through an earpiece.”

You held your ground. “Negative, Cole. Comms are your lifeline. You follow orders or you’re off the mission.”

“No way.” He snapped, tone edged with arrogance. “I don’t need some voice telling me what to do. I’m the one out here.”

You bit back a sigh, fingers tightening on the device. “That ‘voice’ keeps you alive. You think you’re hotshot? You’re not a solo act.”

“Protocol’s for rookies.” His voice spat out like a challenge. “I’m moving in.”

You were about to reply before a rough voice echoed through your comms, cutting through the static like a blade.

“Cole.” Natasha growled. “Drop the ego and listen carefully. You’re not only risking your life, you’re risking everyone else’s because you’re too dumb to follow simple orders.”

The comms fell dead silent for a heartbeat, the weight of her words hanging in the air.

“You disrespect the team. You disrespect comms, who’s keeping you alive right now. You want to prove you’re some lone wolf? You’re not. You’re a damn liability.” You heard the stuttering of Cole, an attempt of trying to argue with her you imagine. “You think you’re better than the rest of us? You’re not. You’re reckless, selfish and one bad call from you gets us all killed.”

Her voice didn’t waver. “Pull your head out of your ass, fall back and get your ego in check. Or I pull you off this mission right now. No second chances.”

You heard Cole’s defiant breath catch, his resistance crumbling. “Understood.”

Natasha’s tone softened just enough to be deadly serious. “Good. Now, listen to your team, follow orders and maybe you survive this day.”

You took the comms back, voice steady and firm. “Thank you, Agent Romanoff. Cole, you’re with the team now. Move smart, watch each other’s backs. Jeffries, you take lead.”

The squad snapped into formation, the tension broken but the lesson clear.

The extraction went smooth, the team working like a well-oiled machine.

When they reached safety, you let herself exhale, a small approving smile flickering across your face. 

It wasn’t apologies or polite conversations, far from it but it was a start. She defended you and that was enough.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The common room was a quiet sanctuary after the chaos of the day. The overhead lights were dimmed to a soft glow, casting gentle shadows on the worn leather furniture and the scattered blankets tossed across the floor. You paused just inside the doorway, your eyes drawn immediately to the couch.

There, curled into a surprisingly peaceful heap, was Natasha. Nova lay nestled in her lap, purring softly, eyes half-closed in contentment. Natasha’s fingers moved deliberately, brushing through the cat’s fur with a careful attentiveness, like she was checking, making sure Nova was truly okay.

You hesitated, not wanting to disturb the rare moment of calm. But the silence felt fragile and precious, so you quietly eased yourself into the armchair nearby. The leather creaked softly beneath you.

“Hey.” You said, voice low, almost unsure.

Natasha’s sharp eyes lifted from the cat to you, the faintest trace of surprise flickering there before settling back into her usual guarded expression. “Hey.”

For a beat, neither of you spoke. Nova stretched luxuriously, a tiny meow escaping before she settled again, curling her tail around Natasha’s wrist.

You cleared your throat, the words feeling heavier than they should. “About earlier… on the mission. When you stepped in with Cole.”

Natasha’s gaze shifted, looking away just a bit. “I was there. Had to say something.”

You smiled softly, warmth blooming in your chest despite the lingering tension. “I know. Still… thank you.”

She shrugged, voice casual but softer than usual. “Just doing my job.”

You didn’t let it go. “No, Nat. You don’t have to act like that. I mean it. You didn’t have to defend me.”

Natasha’s eyes met yours, the hardness peeling away just a little. “I’m not great at showing it.” She admitted quietly. “But I care. More than I let on. About the team, about the missions, even about her now.” Nova gave a small purr, like she understood just how she had worked her way into Natasha’s heart and buried deep.

You nodded slowly, feeling a mix of relief and something like hope. “It means a lot.”

Nova shifted, nudging her head against Natasha’s palm, purring louder. You both watched the cat for a moment, the gentle rhythm a balm to the hard edges between you.

“Have you thought about names yet?” Natasha asked, breaking the silence.

You chuckled, the sound light in the dim room. “Yeah… I’ve been calling them beans for weeks. It’s getting old.”

“I will not have Liho’s offspring be called ‘beans’.” Natasha mocked with a half-smile.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What do you suggest?”

Natasha paused, fingers stroking Nova’s fur thoughtfully. “The guys think we should name them after us.”

You smiled, picturing the kittens slipping silently through the room like a tiny mini avengers. “I like it. Like what?”

“I don’t really know.” Natasha shrugged. “Widow’s too one of the nose.”

“I like it.” You smiled. “Vision’s would be like google or something.”

She laughed. “As long as Clint gets the dumbest kitten, the runt.”

“What do you want to do with them? I don’t think we can keep however many kittens in the tower.”

“Tony’s already turning the conference room next to his lab into a sanctuary so I don’t think we’ll have a choice there.”

Nova flicked her tail as if in agreement while Liho climbed up on your lap, his eyes never leaving Nova who was perched on his own mom.

For a long moment, the four of you simply existed together, no walls, no guards, just the soft purring of a cat and the unspoken peace between two people learning to trust.

You shifted slightly, feeling something unspoken settle in your chest. “Thank you, Natasha.”

Her fingers paused, then she gave Nova’s fur one last careful stroke before settling her hand on the armrest. “It’s the least I can do.”

The night stretched on, soft and easy, and for the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to just be here, with her, and with Nova, the little chaos agents inside her belly who somehow brought you both together.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Nova was pacing the edge of the rug like she was contemplating world domination… or at least how to conquer the couch. Her belly swayed with each dainty step, fur fluffed and twitchy with frustration. You sat on the floor nearby, watching her struggle to calculate a jump she used to make in seconds.

“She’s trying.” You said softly, voice half-laced with encouragement, half-laced with dread.

Nova crouched like she was going for it then hesitated. Her tail flicked. She turned a little, repositioned and tried again, only to stop at the last second with a soft, pitiful chirp.

“She’s going to hurt herself.” Natasha murmured behind you and you hadn’t even noticed her enter.

You didn’t turn. “She doesn’t want help. She wants to prove she can still do it.”

“She can’t.” Her voice was level but not unkind. “Not like this.”

Another mewl. A shuffling of paws. Nova tried again.

You both moved at the same time. Your hands reached toward her belly just as Natasha’s did. And suddenly skin. Warmth. The whisper of a pulse. Her fingers brushed over yours and the static hit so fast and sharp it almost startled you backward.

But you didn’t move. And neither did she.

For a beat, neither of you looked at Nova. You were both frozen in the half-second between impulse and meaning. The pads of her fingers grazed the back of your hand, and her palm hovered just barely over your knuckles.

You finally looked up.

So did she.

Her eyes met yours and they weren’t sharp or cold or mocking. They were open, a little startled, a little searching. The tension that had always lived between you felt suddenly… different. Like it was bending instead of bristling.

Nova gave a frustrated huff beneath you both and you blinked, your voice soft and automatic.

“Careful.” You murmured, a smile tugging faintly at the corner of your mouth. “Wouldn’t want to add you to the list of emotional liabilities.”

It was almost a joke. Almost.

Natasha’s mouth twitched. Not a full smile but close. “Please.” She said. “I was a liability the second Liho fell in love with her.”

The silence that followed was electric. Not uncomfortable but tight. A pressure that hummed under your skin, made your spine straighten just slightly, your breath catch for no reason you wanted to examine too closely.

Her hand was still half-over yours.

You felt her thumb brush the edge of your finger, maybe an accident. Maybe not.

You swallowed.

“She needs a ramp.” Natasha said suddenly, pulling back like she hadn’t just accidentally caressed your hand. Her voice was a little sharper now. A little too casual. “She’s going to try that again. Could hurt herself.”

You leaned back on your heels, exhaling through your nose. “You offering to build it?”

Natasha shrugged. “You offering to supervise?”

“Only if I get to judge your carpentry skills from the couch.” You said, tilting your head with a lazy smirk.

She turned toward you slowly, eyebrow arched.

“You planning to heckle or supervise?”

You shrugged. “Both. I’m very efficient.”

Her lips twitched. “You’re very annoying.”

But she didn’t really sound annoyed. Nova, unaware of the war crimes occurring above her head, decided she was done pretending. She turned away from the couch entirely and flopped against your knee with a dramatic sigh.

Natasha watched her with something soft in her eyes, the kind of softness she probably didn’t know how to weaponize.

“She’ll make it.” She said. “Even if she’s stubborn about asking for help.”

You weren’t sure if she meant the cat. You weren’t sure if she meant you.

But you felt it settle between you anyway, something quiet, something new, something that might’ve been a beginning.

And for once, you didn’t push it. You just let it stay.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The common room had that rare, golden-hour stillness that came when the team wasn’t saving the world or arguing about movie nights. The overhead lights were dim, the hum of the Tower barely audible, like even the building knew to keep quiet.

You were half-asleep on the couch, hoodie rumpled, mismatched socks barely hanging on, Nova curled up like a warm, purring furnace across your stomach. Her tail flicked occasionally, her tiny breaths syncing with yours. You didn’t dare move.

You weren’t fully asleep, not really, just in that floating space where your body refused to shift and your brain had softened to a low, warm hum. You didn’t hear the soft pad of footsteps. Or the faint sound of someone setting down a mug.

You did feel the change in the air.

And then, gently, a blanket.

It brushed over your legs first, slow, careful, tucked with surprising precision. Then up over your waist, your chest, your shoulders. Hands you knew could break ribs were now smoothing fleece across your hoodie like they were afraid of waking you.

You cracked one eye open.

Natasha.

She was standing beside the couch, gaze fixed on the blanket like it might misbehave if she didn’t supervise it personally. Her hair was tied up in a loose knot, a few strands falling around her face. She wore leggings and a long-sleeved shirt, soft cotton instead of kevlar.

You watched her for a moment, quietly.

“Thanks, co-parent B.” You murmured, your voice raspy with sleep and mischief.

She froze.

You bit back a smirk, still mostly horizontal. “Didn’t know blanket duty was in the shared custody agreement.”

Natasha’s eyes flicked down to meet yours, narrowed but not annoyed. If anything, she looked caught. Like she’d been busted doing something too kind.

“I was making sure the menace didn’t freeze.” She said smoothly, nodding toward Nova.

“Sure.” You whispered, eyes closing again. “You’re very devoted.”

“I’m very practical.”

“Mmm.” You hummed. “Is that what you call it when you fold corners on blankets?”

She didn’t reply immediately.

The couch dipped a second later, barely, just enough to register like she’d sat down on the far end. Not close enough to touch. But close enough that if either of you leaned, the space would close fast.

Nova let out a contented purr, shifting slightly on your stomach. You cracked one eye again. Natasha was sitting cross-legged at the other end of the couch, elbows on her knees, gaze fixed on the cat like she hadn’t just delicately tucked you in and gotten caught doing it.

You watched her from beneath your lashes.

“She adores you.” You said softly, watching Nova reposition to stare at Natasha. 

“She’s needy.” Natasha replied, without heat.

“Cats don’t fake affection.” You said. “You know that.”

Natasha didn’t answer but her hand reached out a moment later and with quiet fingers, she brushed a stray hair off Nova’s ear.

You watched it all happen from a little away and realised, with a soft, sinking awareness, that the flirty comments and quiet arguments were just the surface. Beneath that? She cared. Quietly and intensely. And maybe, just maybe, not just about the cat.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The next morning, you found Natasha in the kitchen, hair still damp from a shower, sleeves pushed up as she methodically cut apple slices on the counter. Liho watched like a judgmental sous-chef from atop the fridge, tail twitching.

Nova had taken over one of the bar stools, belly spilled to either side like a dramatic pillow. She blinked slowly at you, utterly unbothered.

“You’re up late.” Natasha said, without looking up.

You rubbed your face, yawning. “Champagne dreams. Regret-flavoured mornings.”

You had been dragged into one of the senior leaders office parties last night, one of the higher ups was moving over to London to work from the base there and he had come to his last day at work armed with nothing but champagne.

“You say that like you didn’t finish a whole plate of cookies at 2am.”

You blinked at her, startled. “You were watching?”

“I was in the dark. You were talking to the cat about cookie strategy.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Please let me die.”

“Denied.”

You lowered your hands to find her setting a mug of coffee in front of you. Perfectly made. Just how you liked it. No commentary, no teasing.

You looked to the cup, to her face and then back to the cup. “You memorised how I like it...”

Natasha finally met your eyes. “It’s not hard to remember…” 

“But you noticed.”

“I notice a lot.” She shrugged off.

And just like that, you forgot every coherent sentence you’ve ever known.

Before you could formulate a reply, Nova let out a long, dramatic meow and rolled slightly off the stool. You both moved at once, your hands steadying her front, Natasha catching her back paws before she could slide off entirely.

The world paused for a second. Your arms brushed again. Her breath hitched. And then she laughed, really laughed, breathless and surprised, like she wasn’t expecting it. You stared at her, momentarily stunned by the sound.

“She really knows how to milk it.” You said, watching as she scooped Nova into her arms and cradled her like a spoiled child.

She smiled softly. “Wonder where she gets that from.”

“That’s getting old.” You nudged her knee lightly with yours, eyes narrowing with mock offence. “At least try to come up with new material. We’re practically raising a family together."

Natasha tilted her head, one brow raised. “If that was an attempt at flirting, it’s outdated and transparent.”

“Who said I was flirting?”

“Weren’t you?”

Maybe...

“Did it work?” You grinned, watching her try to hide her smirk. “It definitely worked.”

"Lame." She scoffed. "You need to teach your mommy how to get a partner, Miss Nova." She baby-talked to the cat, while you rolled your eyes.

"Please! If I learned from her, I'd be months deep in pregnancy with baby Widows already."

“Who said it had to be my babies?” She said with a sly smile, eyes glinting like she was holding a secret. “Could’ve been Wanda’s. Or Maria’s.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, sure."

"No, really."

"Nat, come on, we both know it’s never really been about anyone else. Even when we hated each other, the guys called it sexual tension."

She stepped closer, voice dropping to a tease. “Only ever about me, huh?”

You matched her smirk, heart ticking faster. “Always Grandma B."

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Later that afternoon, the two of you sprawled on the living room rug, building what could loosely be described as a kitten ramp but more accurately looked like a toddler-sized assault course. Natasha insisted on testing each level for ‘stability.’ You insisted on naming every platform after random European cities.

“Why is this one called ‘Budapest’?” She asked, tightening a bracket with unnecessary force.

You paused then grinned. “Felt dramatic.”

She rolled her eyes but her smile lingered.

Nova watched the construction from a nearby pillow like an overworked foreman. Occasionally, she meowed disapprovingly. Once, she sneezed on a screw. Natasha took it personally.

You didn’t know when it happened, how the silence between you became something comfortable instead of sharp. You didn’t know when the way she looked at you stopped feeling like assessment and started feeling like awe she was trying to hide. But it was there.

In the way she leaned into you when you handed her a wrench.

In the way she called Nova 'our girl' without thinking.

In the way she touched your wrist when you reached for the same screw, soft and grounding.

That night, Nova tested the ramp and declared it acceptable by immediately climbing halfway and falling asleep on it like a loaf.

You were on the couch again. Natasha next to you. Not touching. But almost.

“She’s been sleeping more.” You said, voice hushed in the gentle dark. “Eating less.”

“It’s normal.” Natasha’s voice was low, even. “She’s close.”

You nodded, heart tight in your chest.

“What if something goes wrong?” You asked, the words escaping before you could stop them. 

Natasha didn’t answer right away. When she did, her voice was barely audible.

“Then we’ll be there.”

“But we work and if we were to be in-“

“Friday is monitoring her, the minute something changes then we’ll know.” Natasha reassures. “I don’t care if I’m in the middle of an interrogation or sparring with Fury himself, I’ll be here.”

You looked over at her.

Her eyes were on Nova but her hand slowly reached over and found yours. Fingers slipped between yours like they’d done it before. Like they could do it again.

You didn’t breathe. You didn’t speak. You just let it happen.

Outside, the wind whispered across the glass.

Inside, Natasha held your hand. You held hers back.

And Nova dreamed softly, belly warm and round, as if she knew her world was ready now.

Ready for what comes next.

But not yet.

Not just yet.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The operation had been smooth so far, by the book. You were seated in front of the central monitors, headset snug, voice calm and clipped as you fed updates to the team.

“North corridor’s clear. Garcia, take the left flank. Morgan, back up perimeter sweep, west alley. You’ve got a heat sig moving low, could be a crawlspace leak or-“

BEEP.

Friday’s voice cut in, sharp and immediate over all channels.

“Apologies for the interruption. Nova is currently displaying signs of distress in Rec Room 3. Elevated heart rate, vomiting, abnormal vocalisation detected.”

The air changed.

You froze. Every monitor around you kept streaming mission feed, bodies moving, infrared mapping, blinking threat markers. But all you heard was vomiting.

“Nova?” You said, already shoving your headset off.

“Friday, details now.” Natasha snapped in the background, her own comm crackling with static as she veered off her patrol route without hesitation.

“She vomited twice, she’s pacing and whining. Elevated temp detected.”

Steve’s voice cut through, authoritative and calm. “I’ve got mission control. Go.”

You didn’t argue.

Neither did Natasha, she was already up and throwing her headset into Barton’s hands, who caught it clumsily.

Clint’s voice came in dry, like he knew he’d lost control before he’d even tried. “Uh, guess I’m Natasha now. Do I get the cool belt?”

You were already halfway down the hallway.

You and Natasha stood shoulder-to-shoulder, both still in partial gear, hers scuffed with dust, yours slightly askew from where you'd ripped the headset off.

Neither of you spoke at first.

“She was fine this morning.” You finally said, breath short.

“She was quiet. Too quiet,” Natasha murmured, almost to herself.

The elevator doors opened.

You heard the soft, rhythmic sound of someone murmuring before you even crossed the threshold.

Inside, the lights were low. Wanda sat cross-legged on the rug, Nova curled in her lap. A small towel was folded nearby, used and damp. Nova’s fur was matted near her mouth, her body trembling slightly, eyes squinted shut.

Wanda looked up at the two of you, calm but with that clear look of concern she never bothered hiding.

“She threw up twice. She’s shaking a bit, and her stomach’s tight. I’ve been keeping her calm.”

You sank to your knees beside her immediately, one hand reaching out to touch Nova’s cheek. She gave a weak little meow and nudged into your fingers. Your heart cracked in half.

Natasha crouched opposite you, scanning Nova’s body like she was going to memorise every possible failure point and fix it with sheer will.

“Friday?” Natasha called tightly.

“Vitals are steadying. Nausea likely stress or dietary-related. However, caution is advised. Please consider veterinary consultation.”

“She didn’t eat anything weird.” You said, voice already trembling. “I would’ve seen it-“

“She’s okay.” Wanda reassured, cutting you off gently. “It looked worse than it was. She’s calming down now. But I didn’t want to move her until you were here.”

Natasha let out a breath like she’d been holding it the entire mission.

She reached out and gently ran her fingers down Nova’s back, something slow, methodical, like she needed the contact to believe it.

“She’s warm.” She whispered.

“She’s pregnant.” You said softly. “Everything’s gonna feel wrong until it’s over but she’s never like this over eating something that didn’t agree.”

“Her stomach is sensitive.” W

Natasha’s jaw worked but she didn’t say anything. Her hand stilled on Nova’s side.

“She needs quiet.” Wanda said, standing slowly and brushing off her hands. “And probably to not watch Clint crash into anything on the TV again.”

You gave a weak laugh, more exhale than humour.

Wanda touched your shoulder, then Natasha’s, and slipped from the room. “I’ll go give Dr. Montgomery a call, see when she can get here to check her over.”

You stayed on the floor, in a halo of silence.

Natasha eventually eased herself down beside you, her knee bumping yours. She didn’t ask permission when she took your hand, she just did. Like she needed it more than she needed air.

“She scared me.” She whispered, her fingers trembling a little in your own.

You nodded. “Me too.”

“I hate not knowing what’s wrong.”

“That’s what makes it terrifying.” You said, voice breaking gently.

Nova let out a small, pitiful sound, but it was softer now, sleepier even. Her head curled tighter into your lap, tail flicking once.

Natasha squeezed your hand. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

And for once, you believed it.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of veterinarian medical equipment Tony had installed weeks ago just in case. Nova lay curled in a plush blanket on the exam table, a small towel beneath her and a thin monitor gently pressed to her side. Her ears twitched occasionally but her eyes were half-lidded now, her breathing even.

You sat off to the side, hands clasped tightly in your lap. Your mouth was dry. You hadn’t said a word since Dr. Montgomery walked in. Natasha stood by Nova’s table, arms crossed tightly, but not with distance, with precision. She wasn’t looking away. Not once.

Dr. Montgomery finished her gentle palpation of Nova’s belly and straightened up with a soft sigh.

“She’s stable.” She announced, voice measured and calm. “The vomiting isn’t ideal but her vitals are steady and there’s no sign of dehydration. Her temperature’s a little elevated, but that’s not uncommon in late gestation.”

You nodded slowly. You weren’t sure you even heard her. The phrase not uncommon had all the sharp edges of could still go wrong.

“She didn’t eat anything toxic?” Natasha asked, eyes sharp.

“Not that I can tell. Did you use anything different?”

“No.” You finally spoke, voice hollow. “She had the same soft mix she always does. The chicken one she likes. It was fresh. I checked the date twice.”

Dr. Montgomery gave you a soft look. “I believe you. You’re clearly attentive.”

“She didn’t fall?” Natasha asked. “Or strain herself? She tried to jump earlier-“

“She gave up.” You added, quietly. “She looked… defeated. I thought she was just tired.”

“Could this be early labor?” Natasha pressed, refusing to let up. “Or distress? What about fetal movement? Should she be this still?”

That made Dr. Montgomery smile faintly, not unkindly. Like she was used to the over-prepared, over-attached types. But her tone remained even.

“I’d be more concerned if she wasn’t resting right now. She's holding tension in her lower belly but I don’t feel contractions. And no discharge. The vomiting may have just been a response to the increased pressure. Her body is under strain.”

“So we wait…” You said, more to confirm than to question.

“We wait.” Dr. Montgomery agreed. “Keep her hydrated. Watch for nesting behaviour or changes in breathing rhythm. If anything shifts, I mean anything then you call me. You don’t need to wait for a second symptom. Just one.”

You nodded, slowly but it still felt like something heavy was caught behind your ribs.

Natasha asked, “Can she sleep with someone tonight? Someone she’s used to?”

Dr. Montgomery glanced down at Nova, who was now lazily pawing at the blanket like she was fluffing a cloud.

“I’d say she won’t sleep unless she is with someone. Whoever’s got the most experience handling her, that’s who she needs.”

You didn’t have to ask. Nova’s slow tail twitch in your direction said it for you.

“Me.” You said, quietly. “I’ve got her.”

Dr. Montgomery packed her bag with smooth efficiency, glancing at Natasha as she worked.

“You ask good questions.” She noted. “Most people in this situation either panic or assume they know best. You just interrogated me like I was a suspect on trial.”

Natasha gave a faint shrug. “I don’t like mistakes.”

“Neither do I.” The vet replied. “But cats don’t work on logic. Sometimes they just scare the hell out of you for no reason.”

She looked between the two of you. “She’s strong. She’s got good instincts. And more importantly, she trusts you both. That’s not nothing.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened like she didn’t want to let that mean anything. But she did nod.

Dr. Montgomery headed toward the door. “Call if anything changes. Even if you think it’s small. And maybe try to breathe, yeah?”

You nodded again, too fast and too stiff.

After she left, silence settled again.

Natasha finally turned fully toward you. Her voice dropped, gentle but grounded.

“She’s okay. Right now, she’s okay.”

You didn’t answer right away. You were still looking at Nova, curled up, purring so softly you could barely hear it.

“I hate this part.” You whispered. “The waiting. The not-knowing.”

Natasha moved beside you, lowering herself into the seat just next to yours. Her shoulder pressed against yours, solid and warm.

“We do it together.” She reminded you. “You watch her, I watch you. No one's doing this alone.”

You nodded slowly, then leaned just slightly into her. Not much. Just enough to stay upright.

Nova let out a soft snuffle in her sleep and shifted onto her back, exposing her swollen belly.

You both reached for the blanket at the same time.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The door had barely clicked shut behind Dr. Montgomery before the room fell quiet again. Nova stirred, shifting with a small grunt, pressing her face into your side like she was done being the center of attention.

You exhaled slowly, brushing a hand through her fur, eyes still a little unfocused from the adrenaline.

Natasha didn’t move.

She stood just beside the med table, one hand on the edge, knuckles pale. Her gaze was fixed on Nova, but not quite. She was watching and thinking and bracing, like if she looked away, the worst might slip in unnoticed.

You glanced up at her.

“You okay?”

Natasha didn’t answer right away. Her jaw flexed. Then, quietly, too quietly for her usual sharp voice, she said: “I don’t want to leave her.”

It landed in your chest with a strange kind of heaviness, warm and vulnerable and so plainly honest it made your heart stutter.

You nodded once. “Then don’t.”

She blinked, finally looking at you. Like she hadn’t expected permission. Like she never gave herself that option.

You shifted gently, standing up, careful not to jostle Nova. “There’s room. If you want.”

Natasha hesitated, just for a moment. Then she nodded. No quip. No tease. Just okay.

The two of you moved quietly, heading straight back to your apartment, Liho joining you along the way.

Once you’d reached, you laid Nova gently on the covers, where Liho immediately jumped up to fuss her, licking her fur and curling around her body.

Without thinking twice, you threw a pair of pyjamas at Natasha, not bothering asking before sliding your own on.

Methodically, she toed off her boots with practiced efficiency, slipped into the standard pyjamas you gave her before lowering herself onto the bed beside you. Close but not touching.

Nova stirred again and lifted her head groggily at the movement, only to drop it instantly when Natasha reached out and smoothed a hand gently between her ears.

“She’s alright.” Natasha murmured, more to herself than to you. “She’s alright.”

You pulled the blanket and draped it over the both of you. The movement brought your legs close, then your arms. It wasn’t intentional but neither of you pulled away.

For a while, you both just sat there.

Nova’s breathing slowed. The soft hum of the Tower filled the silence.

Then, softly: “You always this brave with your feelings?” You asked, half a smile tugging at your lips.

Natasha huffed a quiet breath through her nose. “No.”

You turned your head to look at her.

She was already watching you.

“It’s easier…” She said, voice low and even. “When it’s not mine.”

Your smile faded just slightly, not gone but softened. “Then let it be mine.”

Natasha’s brow furrowed faintly.

“I’m scared.” You admitted, with a shrug. “But at least I’m not alone. I like that I'm in this with you.”

Something shifted behind her eyes. Not fear or tension but something warmer, heavier.

She reached out, slow and careful and settled her hand lightly over yours where it rested on Nova’s side.

Her grip wasn’t tight. But it didn’t have to be.

You didn’t say anything more.

You didn’t need to.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The soft buzz of morning filtered in through the Tower’s tinted windows, casting a honey coloured glow across the common room. Everything was still, the kind of rare stillness that came only when no one wanted to break it.

Nova was curled like a comma between you both, small, warm, breathing steadier than it had the night before. Her little nose twitched in her sleep. Occasionally, she let out a tiny, contented snore.

You were half on your side, face buried against pillow, your hand still loosely curled near Nova’s belly.

And Natasha?

Natasha was behind you.

One arm wrapped snugly around your waist, her forehead tucked against the back of your neck. Her breathing was deep and even, but not quite asleep. You could feel it in the way her thumb idly traced the hem of your hoodie, slow and absent like a reflex she hadn’t realised she was doing.

Neither of you had spoken yet. The moment felt too fragile. Too good.

Then came the knock.

Three light taps against the front door.

You blinked.

Before you could sit up, the door slid open with a faint hiss.

“Hey.” Wanda’s voice came gently, “I just wanted to check on-”

She stopped.

Her eyes landed on the scene in front of her and she froze. First at the sight of Nova, comfortably snoozing, clearly recovering. Then at the rest of it, the tangled limbs, the blanket askew, the way Natasha’s entire body was curled around yours like a second layer of security.

Natasha didn’t even lift her head.

She just muttered, without looking. “You can turn around now.”

Wanda didn’t. Instead, her lips pulled into a slow, knowing smile. “I could. But where’s the fun in that?”

You groaned quietly into the pillow.

Wanda tiptoed in anyway, soft and careful not to wake Nova, crouching beside the bed. “She looks better.”

“She is.” You mumbled, voice raspy with sleep.

Natasha finally opened one eye, her arm still comfortably around your waist. “Still keeping food down, she got up to eat at 4am. No fever. Sleeping normal.”

Wanda blinked at her. “You take notes in your sleep now?”

“I listen.” Natasha said simply.

You turned your face just enough to shoot her a look over your shoulder. “You also hog the blanket in your sleep.”

Natasha didn’t deny it. “You ran hot.”

Wanda smiled at the two of you, then leaned in to scratch behind Nova’s ears. The little cat let out a pleased trill, barely waking.

“She’s lucky to have you both.” Wanda said quietly.

You didn’t say anything. Neither did Natasha.

But the way your hand curled over hers beneath the blanket said plenty.

Wanda stood, giving one last fond look before heading for the door. “I’ll let you know when the rest of the team is up. I assume you’ll… eventually untangle yourselves.”

You didn’t answer. Mostly because Natasha didn’t move.

And honestly? Neither did you.

[ultravioletrayz]

KINKTOBER

╰┈➤ DAY SEVEN: PHONE SEX w/ TONY STARK

Tony nods along to the music filling the workshop as he modifies a few features of the suit, with JARVIS displaying a holographic model of the features he's working on. It's a quiet night, the type of night Tony has come to hate, because it means that you're away on one of your business trips. The sound of your laughter after every shitty joke, your mere presence beside him as you study the way his hands delicately navigate the heavy machinery, he's come to crave it.

Luckily for Tony, you requite that same desire.

"Mr. Stark, you have a call incoming. Should I project it?" JARVIS announces, making Tony glance up from his work. The second he sees your name being displayed within the holographic swirl of pixels, his eyes light up.

"Yeah, go ahead and put it through." Tony replies, falling back into his swivel chair leisurely so that he can take a break and enjoy the sound of your voice before being forced to return to the task at hand.

As you impatiently listen to your phone dialling, you can already feel the heat rising beneath your skin. You know that this is what Tony likes, what he needs when he's feeling lonely.

"Tony." You whisper, heart pounding as you pant his name into the receiver, wanting nothing more than to feel his hands on you as you sink into the hotel sheets.

The sound of his name on your lips sends waves of desire coursing through Tony's veins, his body shivering with anticipation as he watches JARVIS project your image into the holographic display above the suit. You're a fucking tease, wearing that lacy set he bought you spontaneously a few weeks ago, making Tony chuckle and whistle lowly as he absorbs your figure in the hologram.

"You miss me that much, sweetheart? Cute." Tony coos, getting off on the way you squirm against the mountain of pillows behind your head at practically nothing.

"Been such a long day. Please, please I need you." You whine, one hand holding your phone in place while the other gropes your plush chest over your bra, trying to entice Tony to help achieve get some well-deserved relief.

Feeling the heat of your desire, Tony can't help but mirror your plight. His free hand drifts down to his crotch, palming the bulge in his sweats as he leans closer to the hologram of you, bottom lip tucked beneath his teeth as he resents the distance between the two of you, desperate to feel how fucking soaked you inevitably are right now.

"Well don't let me stop you. Touch yourself." Tony commands gently, his voice a low rasp that sends shivers down your spine.

Without a second thought, you comply, pulling your phone down to adjust the camera so that it captures the view of you pulling your panties to the side. You take a moment to tease Tony, allowing him to admire admire your hand, the way it hovers above your puffy clit before slowly dragging your middle finger down to tease the sensitive nub. Your breath hitches, feeling your arousal build with every delicate touch you make.

"That's it, you look so fucking hot, honey." Tony encourages, leaning further in to the hologram as it captures every single subtle movement. Your hips begin to rise and fall in time with your touch, your moans echoing through the JARVIS' phone line and into Tony's eager ears.

He watches you intently, helplessly captivated by the sight of his lover losing themselves in pleasure. The image of you, so vulnerable and needy, only serves to heighten his own desire. Tony hastily fishes his pulsing cock from his pants, pumping a tight fist over his shaft, slick with dripping pre. He moves in time with you, each time you roll your shaky fingers over your clit, he strokes himself and mimics you by rubbing his swollen tip in his palm.

"Fuck your fingers." Tony pants out, and you hurriedly oblige, plunging two fingers into your sopping cunt, moaning loudly as you try to imagine your thrusting fingers as Tony's cock, reaching the spots you need him most. Tony groans at the sight, squeezing the girth of his dick to try and replicate the sensation of your tight walls deliciously constricting him.

"I-I... Tony." You moan, and he can deduce that you're on the edge. Instead of speeding up his own strokes, his fist slows to a stop, making you whine softly, disappointed to suddenly be deprived of the sight of Tony cumming all over his hands and lap.

"Pull them out." Tony orders, making your bottom lip quiver with need, but you listen to him, removing your slick-covered fingers slowly.

"I want to be the one that makes you cum," Tony whispers, pulling his sweats back over himself with a slight smirk, despite the throbbing ache shooting through him. "Rest up. I'll see you soon."

[slasherslittlesimp]

Cursed (Avengers X Reader)

Series Masterlist

Part Four

Your dull eyes flicker to the door as it swings open. You recognize the person who enters as the man that was wearing the flashy armor on the jet. He looks a lot different without the armor on yet he still carries an air of confidence. His eyes are glued to the tablet in his hand for a moment before he finally tosses it onto the table and gives you his attention.

"So, Hannibal, if I remove your jacket are you going to play nice?" You quirk a brow at the name, unsure what it means or where it came from. Once you give him a slow nod he moves towards you, moving behind you to unclasp the multiple buckles. The jacket slides off easily, revealing that you're wearing nothing but a tank top underneath it. Despite being free of the restraints, you keep your arms wrapped securely around yourself as if you're still wearing them.

"I've got a few questions for you but first I need to know if you know sign language." When you shake your head he sighs. Of course those Hydra bastards wouldn't teach you a way to communicate without talking. "Alright, do you at least know how to write?" This question is met with a shrug which makes him purse his lips. Regardless, he pulls out a notepad and pen from his pocket and sets the items on the table in front of you.

He moves away from you after that to sit in the chair on the other side of the table. "Let's start simple. What's your name?" He already knows the answer to this, of course, but he wants to see what your answer is.

You sit there for a few moments simply staring at the paper in front of you before slowly reaching forward to pick up the pen. Your hand shakes slightly from lack of use as you try your best to write down your answer. The word is understandably written with shaky lettering. Once done, you push the paper closer to him so he can read it.

He leans forward to read it, frowning slightly. Cursed is what you wrote down in very wobbly letters. At least it's spelled correctly which shows that you at least understand how to read. Hydra must've figured writing wasn't a necessary skill for you to learn.

He had hoped you would have remembered your name since the files said you showed signs of remembering things a few different times. Maybe with time your memory will return. "Do you know how old you are?" You shake your head. "Do you know anything about yourself?"

You hesitate before pulling the paper back towards yourself to write your answer. While you had heard Natasha read out some of your file, you didn't actually pay much attention to what she was saying. Even if you did, you likely wouldn't believe the information given. 

Tony watches as you scribble the words, pausing occasionally as if trying to think of how to spell specific words or maybe to think of more things you know about yourself. Once you're done you slide the paper back towards him.

'Killer. Cursed. Hydra operative.'

He sighs, running his hand over his mouth before holding his chin in thought. It's obvious that any questions he asks will lead to him receiving answers that they already know from the files. He highly doubts you'll know more than he does about yourself. Hell, right now you seem to know less.

He decides to stop the questioning for now in order to go talk with the others. He'll need their opinions on some things. Plus, he's almost certain you'd feel more comfortable with either Natasha or Cap talking to you rather than him. After informing you that he'll be back, he exits the room.

"What's the plan?" Natasha questions Tony the second he enters the room on the other side of the mirror.

"Honestly? I don't know." Tony shrugs as he crosses his arms over his chest. "We know she's willing to answer questions but there's no way of knowing if she'll be a threat if we release her."

Bucky stares at you through the glass, taking in your tired appearance. "I don't think she'll be a threat to us if we can show her that she can trust us."

"Do you think we should remove the device from over her mouth?" Steve questions, brows furrowed as he looks at his best friend.

Bucky shrugs as he turns towards the others. "We'll have to remove it at some point so she can eat. Whether or not it stays off is the real question."

"She hasn't given us reason to not trust her yet. The entire time she was with us at the Hydra base she cooperated and didn't lash out at all. We even had our backs to her at one point and she didn't do anything." Steve points out as Natasha nods along.

"Granted, her arms were restrained but she still could've tried running. I think she knows that she'll be safe with us even if she doesn't know who we are." Natasha looks to Tony. "We should give her a chance. Maybe put her under someone's watch who will be able to handle her."

"According to her files, using her ability on strong opponents tears her throat up. That and using powerful demands. We don't know who will be able to handle her based off of that information alone. The notes didn't have specifics."

"Thor would be the best choice but he's currently off world." Natasha runs a hand through her hair as she thinks. "I'd say Hulk could handle her but there's no way Bruce will let him out for something like that. I think our only options are the two super soldiers or Wanda."

Tony nods along in agreement. "Steve was one of the first people she met so she might trust him more than the others. However, Barnes also knows what she's been through and could bond with her through that. Then again, she might be more comfortable with Wanda since she's a chick."

"Why don't we let her decide?" Clint cuts in making the others look towards him. He had been standing silently in the corner simply observing everyone and they all forgot he was even there. "Or maybe put them on a rotation so not just one person is watching over her."

They all easily agree with the plan since it's the best one they've got at the moment. They don't know enough about your powers yet to have a more permanent solution. For now, you'll just have to be stuck being watched over by different members of the team along with Friday.

Taglist: @desiree-lee @seventeen-x @svtbpbts @that-b-word-lol @keshet2k @cl0u-dy @randoes-world

[sharkwidow]

"You're Still My Daughter" | Tony Stark

ᯓ★Summary: You are Tony Stark's daughter. One night, overwhelmed by pressure and the fear of not living up to your name, you hide in the lab. But Tony finds you.

ᯓ★Setting: A quiet night in Stark Tower, in the lab.

ᯓ★Warnings: Emotional vulnerability, father-daughter comfort, mention of the pressure of legacy.

ᯓ★Word Count: 1200

The lab was dark, save for the faint glow of holograms dancing before your tired eyes. You'd been working for hours: running simulations, tweaking designs, rewriting code. You didn't even know why anymore. No one was demanding it of you. Not really. But when your last name was Stark, the expectations felt heavier. Colder. Like steel wrapped around your chest.

You didn't hear him come in.

"Kid."

You froze. Slowly turning your head, you saw him standing in the doorway: Tony Stark, your father, in a T-shirt and pajama pants, holding a cup of coffee he clearly didn't need.

"I should have known you'd be here," he said, entering the room, scanning the chaotic mess of technology, blueprints, and glowing circuitry. "It's past midnight. Are you planning on solving world peace or just inventing insomnia?"

You gave a small smile, but didn't answer. Not right away.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Spit it out."

You exhaled and looked down at your hands. "I was just... trying to figure something out."

"You've been here for five hours."

"I know."

He came over and sat on the bench across from you. He didn't push you or say anything. He just waited. Like he always did when he knew you were holding something back.

"I'm afraid I'm not enough," you finally said, quietly, your chest tight. "I'm trying to live up... to you. The name. The legacy. Everything. And I keep thinking... what if I screw it all up?"

Tony looked at you for a long moment, the silence making the air feel heavy. Then he put down his coffee.

"Listen," he said, his voice softer, "you're not me. And thank God for that."

You blinked, startled. "Wait? What?"

He leaned back a little, his expression serious despite the mocking smile on his lips. "You're not me. You're better. Smarter, more focused. You actually read the instructions before you build something that blows up in your face."

You let out a shaky laugh.

"But most importantly," he continued, "you don't have to comply with anything. You're not a walking monument to my mistakes. You're my daughter. And that's enough. More than enough."

You looked at him, your eyes glazed over, a lump in your throat. “I just… don’t want to disappoint you.”

Tony’s voice lowered, devoid of all sarcasm and bravado. “Hey. You could not build anything for the rest of your life and still not disappoint me. You think I care how many suits you make or how many cool projects you finish? I care that you sleep. That you eat. That you laugh.”

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“You’re not a legacy project, okay? You’re a person. My daughter. And I love you, even if you decide to run away and open a bakery or become a street magician.”

You laughed, for real this time. “A street magician?”

"Hey, as long as you don’t pull a rabbit out of my arc reactor, we’re good."

You wiped your eyes, finally allowing yourself to breathe. “Thanks, Dad.”

He nodded once, stood up, and offered you his hand. "Come on. Let's get out of this lab before you start growing circuit boards on your forehead."

You took his hand, and he put his arm around your shoulders as you walked.

Oh, and one more thing," he said, leading you toward the kitchen. "The Stark legacy? You're already rewriting it. And believe me... I like your version of it a lot better."

[jyndor2]

I don't think anyone is saying Cassian should ONLY dutifully follow orders to a T and never think for himself. Even the extended materials for Rogue One say that Draven trusted Cassian to do some independent thinking on the fly - but that is because Draven trusted that Cassian was committed to the cause and also that he would GET the work done even if the way he went about it was different than what HE imagined (cough).

This is the titular character of a prequel to the story where Cassian is clearly, obviously so beaten down and burnt out because of a longtime commitment to building a revolution during a cold war period, a commitment that has pushed him to kill at least one ally but surely more than that. I don't need Cassian to never question his leaders. He would - that is normal and understandable.

But to ONLY see Cassian going rogue after getting a late start to becoming a rebel spy is a real flaw. Because sorry Cassian IS burnt out in Rogue One, and Jyn and the others help renew his revolutionary optimism. And this is so powerful and such a fundamental part of revolutionary organizing, for your comrades to help pick your spirits up when you are beaten down by being right but wayyy too early.

On Eadu, Cassian disobeys DIRECT orders. He doesn't just think for himself and get to the orders in a roundabout way. He chooses not to assassinate Galen Erso because he knows that not only is it morally fucked lol (and that is even arguable but whatever) but also it is strategically dogshit to kill the guy who knows exactly where the flaw in the Death Star COULD be before the rebels have a chance to even see if he is credible or if it's a ratfuck.

Yes, I love the part in the novel where Cassian looks at Galen Erso and sees Jyn in his eyes but lbr there are several cool and valuable interpretations of why Cassian puts his rifle down (like anything else). But there's also like Motifs In Visual Media 101 where rain in particular is indicative of renewal, transformation, rebirth and change - and CLEARLY Cassian is experiencing a moment of radical transformation into someone who actually WILL disobey a direct order in that scene.

Well, that doesn't work as a transformative moment if a week ago he's yapping off to Draven and getting confined to quarters for GOING ROGUE LOL

This is why I have said that in order to make Andor!Cassian's story work best, the show probably should have aged him DOWN instead of up. Start Kassa at 6 (Kerri even younger obviously), have the teen!Kassa actor (I'm sorry I'm blanking on his name) to play Ferrix!Cassian in S1 and then do most of S2 as him at like 19 or 20. And frankly cut the most of the first arc, most of the second, have Cassian witness the Ghorman genocide and tie it in to his own experiences AS a genocide survivor, give us Kay and Cassian earlier, even if the budget requires less Kay still give us a bit of his presence earlier, etc. And then do the lead up to Rogue One PROPERLY - and as much as I love Kleya and Luthen, it isn't their show. It isn't. Kleya's backstory is very similar to what Cassian's could have been - and should have been - and they could have EASILY done something along those lines with Kassa in order to show his commitment to the cause EARLY.

This doesn't mean he can't bitch and moan about the bad shit, or disagree with his orders, or be a shithead teen dirtbag, etc. Who doesn't start off as an anarchist on their road to a more pragmatic and realistic framework for revolutionary politics?

(lmfao omg im sorry anarchists not yall catching strays my bad. you guys do great work.)

But... also that is supposed to be a big point of contention for Jyn and Cassian - leftist infighting simulator from the start lmfao.

Anyway I just wanted to correct some of the framing of the critique of Cassian's revolutionary arc. Because no just because people are critiquing the show does not mean we don't get the point Tony Gilroy is going for. It just means we disagree with the premise.

[msmk11]

🍾 happy birthday!!!

how about 24 with spiderman? maybe reader is also a superhero, but a little newer to the game than spidey?

24) Getting pinned down while a training session/sports practice

omg thanks for coming to the party! hope you enjoy :)

Spiderboy

Peter Parker (Spiderman) x gn!Stark!reader

WC: 1.7k

CW: fighting; sexual tension

Summary: You decide Spiderman is your personal enemy after your dad invites him to join the Avengers before you. So, when you're given the chance to fight the hero during training, you're thrilled.

Despite your many pleas, your dad, Tony Stark, had kept you from becoming a superhero for a long time. It was too dangerous, he always said, and he wanted to protect what was most precious to him. You knew his refusal was always rooted in love, and you loved how much he cared. Still, you wanted to fight alongside him, to help make a difference. You’d bring up the topic every few months, with his answer always staying the same. You wouldn’t fight back too hard and instead find other ways to help out the Avengers. All that changed when your dad brought on a new superhero- Spiderman. Though you didn’t know his real identity, you did know that he was your age, which left you furious. You’d stormed into his office, shaking with anger and betrayal, shouting about how it wasn’t fair- how he could let some strange boy join the Avengers but not his own kid.

The screaming didn’t convince him nor did the silent treatment. It was only when you’d given up entirely on your dream of being an Avenger that your dad sat you down and invited you to join the team. You’d given an enthusiastic yes, accepting the stipulation that you had to train for a year before you’d be allowed out in the field. You were to be trained in combat, to help your dad in making your suit, to think up your superhero name, and to go through countless mission simulations. The training had been hard work, no doubt, but you knew that it would all be worth it when you got to serve alongside your dad, the Iron Man, in just a matter of two months. 

Today is like most others, your day starting early with a combat training session led by Natasha. You’ve just finished your stretches when she walks in, a brunette boy about your age in tow. You shoot her a confused look but the redhead only smirks, stopping before you. 

“We’re doing things a little different today,” Natasha says to you. You notice that she isn’t in her usual training clothing, instead wearing jeans and a t-shirt. 

“I’ve taught you all I know. Now it’s time to put your training to the test and actually fight someone. You’ll be fighting Peter here.”

Your eyes trail to the boy in question and they narrow, “who the fuck is Peter?”

The boy rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and shrugs, “that’s me. I’m Peter, Peter Parker. You’re Mr. Stark’s kid, right?”

You nod and cross your arms, “Okay but who are you? Peter Parker means nothing to me.”

He blushes furiously and you want to roll your eyes. Seriously, who is this guy?

“Oh right! I’m Spiderman, one of the new Avengers.”

Your heart drops and anger simmers in your stomach. Fucking Spiderman- your personal enemy ever since he got invited to join the Avengers before you. Your eyes scan his figure, assessing him. You really don’t understand what your dad sees in him. He seems like an average teenager, if not a little more fit than most. Though you’d never been to public school and therefore not often been around people your age, you know he looks just like the rest of the boys. Did sunshine come out of his ass or something?

“Oh. You’re Spiderman. Right.”

The Parker kid furrows his brow in confusion, a little taken aback by your less than warm reception. He didn’t expect you to be losing your mind over meeting Spiderman or anything, but he thought you’d at least be friendly, maybe crack a few jokes like your dad. 

You glare at Natasha slightly, “was this your idea? Or my dad’s?”

She ignores your question, “you need to practice fighting real people and not just a dummy. You’ll start with Parker and eventually move up to fighting Steve, me, and so on. This isn’t up for debate, Junior, so assume your positions.”

Your face heats at Natasha’s use of the team’s nickname for you in front of your rival. You think she did it on purpose just to embarrass you. You’d just have to make up for it by kicking Parker’s ass. The boy assumes his position on the opposite side of the mat, falling into his stance with a confidence that really pisses you off. You don’t know where he got the gall to waltz in here like he owned the place and-

Natasha tells you to begin and Peter lunges forward, nimble on his feet. You barely avoid him, feet skidding across the rubber mat just in time. You reposition, squaring your hips like you were taught, and throw your fist when he approaches. He ducks, avoiding it, and takes the opportunity to land a blow on your side. The force sends you staggering. He’s stronger than you thought and you recall that he probably has some sort of superhuman strength. It only makes you madder, and you retaliate, kicking him in the stomach. Peter stumbles only a little and you grit your teeth. The two of you engage in a back and forth, sending blows each other’s ways and failing, both of you blocking the other’s attempts. 

“Quit playing with each other,” Natasha scolds, no real malice in her voice. 

You decide to try a different angle, sweeping your foot out to catch the back of his leg rather than using your fists. It works, and you internally celebrate, reveling in the way he tumbles to the ground. Unfortunately, in his fall he catches your ankle, dragging you down with him. You grunt as you land on your back and you see red. 

“Motherf-” 

Peter sends his fist towards your face and you stop it with both hands, fighting against his insane strength.

“Why do you seem to hate me so much?” the brunette grits, voice shaking with effort. 

You press your foot against his chest, sending him backwards again, “can’t handle people not loving you, spiderboy?”

He’s quickly back up on his feet and you resituate, “that’s not my name and you know it, Stark. Honestly, we’ve never even met before today! How can you hate me?”

His voice sounds boyish and innocent, as though he just wants to be liked by everyone. It almost makes you feel bad for him. 

Peter manages to clock you in the face and you stumble, clutching your jaw in pain.You land a few blows in retaliation and then he tackles you in the middle. It doesn’t send you plummeting to the ground, instead only locking your upper halves together. You take the chance to mutter in his ear, “you waltzed in and took what I wanted without even trying. After I’d spent years working my ass off to become an Avenger.”

“I’m sorry, you know it wasn’t my f-” 

You don’t let him finish, instead finally shoving him back off of you. This is it. Your moment. You charge towards him and pull a classic Natasha move. You leap forward, flinging your legs around his shoulders and sending him hurtling to the ground. You’ve got him right where you want him, and you smirk in victory. You’re straddling his hips as you lean down and murmur, “gotcha.”

Your cockiness is your downfall and Peter takes advantage of it. He shoves you off, flipping you over and pinning you beneath him. The brunette is heavier than you and he pins both of your wrists, effectively leaving you defenseless. You squirm beneath him, frustrated and he leans in, breath hot against your ear, “don’t pout just because daddy didn’t give you your way.”

And something about the way he says it so assertively, while also being pinned underneath him, causes you to have a very different reaction. Heat shoots to your core and you just barely suppress a shudder. You swallow thickly and push him off, standing up shakily and wiping your palms. You blow past Natasha, and head straight to the locker rooms.

Fuck.

You splash cold water on your face and take deep breaths, trying to calm the passion brewing in your stomach. You’re hot- equal parts angry and turned on and it pisses you off. You’re supposed to hate this Parker kid, not be attracted to him.

The door to the locker room opens, “go away, Nat,” you call out.

Footsteps scuff against the tile and it’s not Natasha that appears but Peter. 

“Are you okay?”

You sigh, not meeting his eyes, “Fine.”

He runs his fingers through his mussed hair nervously, “are you sure? Did I hurt you or-”

“I’m fine, Spiderboy.”

Peter walks closer and suddenly his fingers are on your jaw, tilting your head slightly. Your breath catches in your throat. He grimaces and a coo catches in his throat, “I got you bad here. It’s already turning all black and blue. I’m sorry.”

The pads of his fingers are warm against your skin and you shiver when they dance gently over the bruise.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

You shake your head, and your mouth opens and closes like a fish. Peter’s brown eyes watch you intently, softly. 

“I really am sorry for taking your spot on the team or uhm whatever.”

You search his face for any insincerity but find none, and your heart thaws just a little.

“I’d like to get to know you. Become friends, you know, or…”

He trails off, and your breath hitches at what the silence implies. Peter leans closer to you, your breaths mingling and-

There’s a knock on the door and it opens. The two of you jump apart as your dad comes into view. He pauses, eyes flitting between you and Peter suspiciously.

“Sweetheart,” your dad says, focusing his attention on you, “it’s time to go work on your suit.”

He steps closer and grabs your face, “and we’ll get you some ice for that bruise.”

Your dad tucks you into his side and begins corralling you towards the door. You look over your shoulder and awkwardly wave goodbye to Peter.

When you’re not looking, your dad sends Peter a glance too. It’s a warning. You fuck with my kid, I’ll fuck you up too.

And while Peter is scared out of his mind, he can’t help but smile nonetheless.

[themculibrary]

Stony - Protective!Steve Masterlist

5 Times Tony Had Steve's Back, and 1 Time Steve had Tony's (ao3) - itsallAvengers T, 25k

Summary: As it turns out, Steve gets himself into a lot more shit than you would think. And for some reason, it's always Tony who ends up saving his sorry ass.

and you're out (ao3) - Zekkass M, 4k

Summary: A villain kidnaps Tony and removes his arc reactor and Steve's the one to rescue him. Tony proceeds to try and deal with this. Steve tries not to think about the gaping hole he saw in Tony's chest.

Breaking Point (ao3) - itsallAvengers M, 6k

Summary: They torture Tony to try and get information out of Steve

Happiness Is Homemade (ao3) - Icylightning T, 40k

Summary: Tony and Steve are married for fifteen years now. Their life is simple and good until they decide to adopt a teenager named Peter Parker who’s going to turn their life upside down.

Happy Again (ao3) - Legends_Never_Die T, 31k

Summary: Peter can’t take this dads’ fighting anymore. He can’t take the arguing. He finds comfort with his secret new found friend Bucky. Bucky looks a lot like his Pop’s old friend Bucky Barnes from back in the 40s. But it wasn’t him. He was dead. Right?

Have I told you (That I'm Glad You're Here?) (ao3) - RedpathArcade N/R, 1k

Summary: "What the hell was that Stark?" Steve barked, storming into Tony's workshop. The blond was still in his Captain America outfit, shield strapped to his back. Tony also still had his suit on. Face-plate up and Steve took in the pained expression on the Brunets face. And maybe given the situation he should be gentle, but he was simply too furious.

Helpless (ao3) - Crematosis T, 6k

Summary: When Tony is attacked by voodoo spells, Steve wishes he could do more to protect him.

hold the things you wanna say (ao3) - SailorChibi T, 6k

Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he’s overworked and exhausted. That’s okay.

He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that’s all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he’ll never get it and that’s okay. Really.

What’s not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always.

This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.

Insomnia (ao3) - Scavenge4Dreams E, 10k

Summary: Its 3am. Do you know where your Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist is?

In Which Steve Doesn't Take Kindly to Shovel Talk (ao3) - love_in_the_stars T, 1k

Summary: When warning Tony Stark not to break Steve's heart, Bucky probably shouldn't have threatened to remove the arc reactor.

It Takes a Village (or a team of superheroes) (ao3) - aven_garde steve/tony, clint/phil T, 33k

Summary: Three months after the Chitauri attack, Tony received a phone call that changed his life. (Or, the one in which a group of remarkable people come together and balance battling villains and raising a child).

Love Is A Battlefield (ao3) - crumbcrash2000 steve/tony, tony/tiberius E, 53k

Summary: In Siberia, Steve looks on in horror as Tony watches the video of his parents’ murder. Expecting the worst, he is prepared to fight to defend Bucky, even through the shock of his own betrayal.

But Tony doesn’t lash out.

Instead, Tony cries, and Steve’s whole life falls apart.

Loving Tony Stark (ao3) - Gothic_Lolita M, 1k

Summary: Tony doubts himself, and Steve is determined to make sure Tony knows how perfect he is, and that he will always be there for Tony.

Minefields (ao3) - arianapeterson19 pepper/tony, bucky/steve/tony T, 34k

Summary: Being in an abusive relationship was a bit like needing glasses. He didn’t realize it until the damage was done.

Funny how people assume only men can be abusive.

Pieces of Echoes (ao3) - geekymoviemom steve/tony T, 334k

Summary: When weapons designer and SHIELD consultant Tony Stark and his son are kidnapped following a routine weapons demonstration, newly defrosted World War II hero Steve Rogers is sent to find them.

But what begins as just another mission, a way for Captain America to reintegrate back into society, quickly warps into something more as betrayals are discovered, harsh, long-buried truths are finally brought to light, and Tony and Steve come to realise that their biggest allies are each other.

[buckyalpine]

I’m going to redo this story. Here is a version I wrote that I feel is okay but I have another version in mind so I’ll write that tooo. I didn’t want to throw this away completely so maybe at least 1 person will like this 😭 @paulasocean another version is coming bb ❤️

-

"Okay, I can't for the life of me remember what happened during this mission" Nat grumbled while sitting in the conference room, catching up on paper work after Fury had demanded all mission reports be handed in by the end of the week.

"Honestly, neither can I" Steve shook his head, rubbing his temples, the past few months all melting into a blur. Everyone had been running back to back missions, prioritizing actually saving people over filling out reports. "I only filled out half of it and before I could finish, someone put it away"

"Please tell me it's somewhere in this building, I can't spend the rest of the day writing about how many time Steve jumped off a roof with zero protection" Bucky groaned, most of his mission reports consisting of all the recklessness his bestfriend did.

"Go check the records room, someone probably filed it there" Tony suggested while Bucky nodded, heading down to the very bottom of the compound where there were rooms upon rooms filled with documents on every criminal and terrorist organization to exist as well as individual cases. Steve and Nat followed, the both of them wandering through the shelves where the most recent reports were, quickly locating the latest one.

"He's this big billionaire with the most advanced technology in the world and but he's keeping records in the basement like a creepy grandpa" Nat huffed, scanning the shelves.

"You'd think he'd have these all digitized by now, given how much he loves technology" Steve snorted while Bucky remained silent, preoccupied with a different row of shelves that caught his eye. His heart hammered a little harder than usual as he looked at the five full floor to ceiling shelves that were solely for Hydra. He was sure at least two shelves would be for his atrocities alone.

"Buck, c'mon" Steve patted Bucky's shoulder, already seeing where his bestfriends mind spiraled, "Nat found what she needed, let's get out of here punk"

"Just-give me a second" Bucky murmured, opening one of the drawers and flipping through the papers, swallowing thickly at some of the agents he'd recognized, ones that had tortured him to no end.

That's when another face caught his eye.

His blood ran cold, flipping through the pages faster, hoping there was some sort of mistake.

It couldn't be.

It was your face, over and over again but under a different name.

Svetlana Petrovitch

"St-Steve?"

"What is it Buck" Steve frowned, seeing the color drain from Bucky's face, taking the file from his hands, his own eyes growing wide.

"Please tell me that isn't her"

"That's y/n" Steve murmured, not understanding where there was a file on you at all, let alone why it was associated with Hydra. Bucky grabbed the filed back before looking at others, his anxiety only getting worse. "Svetlana?"

"These aren't files on those who were taken or held captive. This whole shelf is just for agents who have worked for Hydra throughout the years. They're all Hydra agents"

Bucky needed it to be a mistake, a misprint, a file placed in the wrong section, you were his whole world, you would've told him if you were associated with hydra. His mouth wen dry, clutching onto the papers as he wordlessly made his way back up to find you.

You had been gone all morning, insisting you were just going to grab coffee but now he had his suspicions. You usually always asked him to tag along everywhere but every so often, about every two weeks, you would disappear on your own for hours on end.

He'd also hear you speaking to someone on the phone in hushed whispers but he'd never once questioned it but based on what he'd just seen, he had no idea what to believe.

Who were you.

He tossed the file onto the table as soon as he saw you in the room, the tick in his jaw worrying you. You got up, making your way over to brush his cheek, freezing when he stepped away from your touch as if it would burn him. Everyone left the room, sensing this was a private moment between you both.

"Bucky, is everything okay-

"Where were you"

"I-

"Tell me where you were this morning"

Your heart sank to your stomach, the guilt plastered on your face causing his emotional turmoil to worsen.

"I-I told you I went for coffee" Your shaky voice lacked truth, only confirming his suspicious further.

"Did you work for Hydra?"

"Bucky-

"Y/n, it's a yes or no question, were you a hydra agent or not"

"I-

The fact that you hadn't said no, the fact that you looked guilty, unable to look at him directly in the face was enough to send Bucky over the edge.

"H-how could you?!”

"James, you don't understand!-

"No. No" Bucky shook his head, tears welling in his eyes, his stomach twisting in knots. "Don't. Just don't"

"Baby, please just listen to me-

"Is y/n your name? Hm?" His eyes were red from unshed tears, a part of him still desperately hoping this was all a bad dream. That his girl, the woman he trusted with his entire life, was really who he thought she was, "Or is it Svetlana. You were part of them. You probably still are, is that why you came here? Did you pretend to love me all this time just to get me back to them? Is this what all of our relationship was to you? Find a way to get the Winter Soldier back?"

"Bucky stop!" You cried out, your voice cracking, wiping away at your wet cheeks. You couldn't get a word in as he backed away from you, shaking his head, feeling disgust and confusion at the same time. His heart yearned for you but he wouldn't be able to over come this. "Please-

"There's nothing to listen to. How-how can I ever trust you again" His throat felt like it was being squeezed shut all over again, just like the days Hydra strapped a collar on him to hold him in place every time he was wiped. "I don't even know who you are anymore. I-I love you but I can't-

"Bucky don't do this, just let me explain-

"YOU CAN'T! THERE'S NOTHING FOR YOU TO EXPLAIN!" He snapped, making you flinch back. "You-you could've told me! How am I supposed to trust you?! I've told you my darkest memories and-and fuck, you would've already known, right? This was all a game to you, you would've already known everything I'd ever done. Were you part of that too? Huh? Did you also have a say in all the shit they did to me when I was under their control?"

"NO!" You shook your head, covering your ears, unable to take the words he was saying to you, never in a million years would you ever have done such a thing to the man you loved with your entire being. "Jamie, I would never, I love you, just sit down with me baby, please-

"I'm sorry. We're done. For good. I can't even look at you. You know I love you, fuck, I-do you have any way how much I love you" Bucky's voice dropped to a whisper, moving to softly cup your face in his hands, brushing away at the tears that continued to spill from your lashes. He traced his thumbs along your soft cheeks on last time, his soul feeling like it was being ripped from his body as he dropped his arms back to his sides. "But I can't do this"

He stormed out of the room without looking back leaving you torn, broken and sobbing. You ran past the others who were still worriedly waiting outside and right to your room, locking it, instructing FRIDAY to forbid anyone else from entering.

It didn't take long for you to pack all your things. You didn't have much.

You never did.

You left behind all of Bucky's Henleys that you'd stolen along with all the sweet gifts he'd bought you on your dresser; you figured he wouldn't want to see you anyway.

You had left the compound by that night.

-

Steve signed at the sight of his best friend spending another night destroying himself at the gym, dark red stains covering the leather of the nearly torn punching bag.

"No one knew?" Bucky's voice was hoarse from nights of crying and getting by on coffee and taking out his frustrations out on the gym. He'd stayed in his room for days on end, not speaking to anyone, his head and heart aching. His knuckles were split from how hard he'd been punching the bag, only to be held back by Steve who couldn't stand to see Bucky like this anymore.

"No. None of us knew anything. I spoke to Tony, those files were sent to us directly through SHIELD. When Tony ran his background checks, everything came up clear. There's gotta be more to this Buck. Why don’t you-"

"I loved her" Bucky shook his head, still feeling betrayed over all the things he didn't know. "But I can't"

Weeks went by and Bucky grew more reckless. Not having the love of his life by his side coupled by the fact that there were so many unanswered questions pushed him further and further to the edge. He hated that he still dreamt about you every night, tossing and turning in his cold bed, without you there to keep him safe and warm. You were on his mind every single day and every single part of him wanted to know where you'd gone, how you were doing, guilt starting to eat a him.

He never gave you a chance to explain yourself, jumping at you the second he thought you had strong ties with Hydra, that you were an agent yourself. He'd never even let you get a word in, breaking things off without a second guess.

To make things worse, he'd gone as far as accusing you of also being part of all the pain he'd been put through.

No one knew where you'd gone.

Except Tony.

-

"Just tell me where she is" Bucky ran his hands through his already messy hair, pacing up and down Tony's office while the billionaire sighed. "Please"

"I can't. She asked me not to and I can't break that Barnes. Plus you broke up with her, it's not like she left cause she wanted to"

The guilt that was already eating at him only worsened as he sat down in defeat, angrily wiping his face.

"Is there anything you can tell me? Something? Anything, I'll take anything at this point, I fucked up so badly"

"The most I can do is let you know if she comes back or if she wants to talk to you"

Bucky didn't press the issue more, taking it upon himself to scour the records room again to see if there was anything else on you but he came up short. There were no other files on a person with the last name Petrovitch. He never actually looked through your file properly, feeling too much anxiety from the first time he'd seen it. When he bothered to read it again, there was hardly any information, only having a few fuzzy pictures of you at the base with some other agents as well as how long you'd been there for.

There was one place he'd get his answers from.

SHIELD.

-

"Who is y/n"

"Sargent"

"TELL ME" Bucky's voice nearly shattered the glass, causing Fury to flinch while the others took a step back. After Tony didn't reveal your location, Bucky went straight to the head office, his brooding glare alone getting him instant access to the top floor. The team accompanied him for moral support but also to keep things under control just in case, everyone standing in the directors office on edge. "You kept this from me, from everyone here, I need to know, what does she have to do with Hydra"

Fury sighed, pulling out a thick file from a second safe, dropping it onto the table, shifting through papers before pulling out one of a picture from when you were young. Bucky recognized the twinkling eyes, his heart breaking all over again for the young little girl in the picture, lost and innocent.

How the hell did he think you'd been an agent.

"Y/n, y/l/n. Originally named Svetlana Petrovich by Hydra. Her birth mother had been used as an experiment to procreate more super soldiers in case the serum couldn't be replicated. The serum didn't take so she was rendered useless. Her mother was never seen again. Her supposed father was one of the many soldiers who had been given a different version of what Sargent Barnes has"

Bucky was frozen in place as Fury spoke, feeling absolute agony over the words he's said to you. Your broken face and pleading voice played over and over again, making him nauseous.

"Hydra kept the child in hopes of using training her into a weapon. She was cared for by a woman who was appointed to be her handler. She raised the child differently, without anyone else knowing. Don't ask me how she did it, we don't even have a name"

Everyone continued to listen in stunned silence while he spoke.

"Agent y/l/n wanted to escape but remained at the base to ensure no one hurt the woman who had taken care of her. She didn't go on any missions but she was trained to be one of the strongest soldiers they had, hence the images of her at the base with other Hydra operatives. She remained there until the woman's death and escaped the very same night. We recruited her a few years later"

"How do you know all this and why didn't anyone know" Steve stepped in while Bucky remained silent, trying desperately not to break down. Not only had you been born into the worst situation but you only remained there to protect the one person who was like a mother to you after you lost your own.

"I have my ways, Captain. She didn't want anyone to know. She wasn't proud of the fact that she'd been brought up in such a place. She left it all behind but wanted to use her skills for good. There's a reason she one of your top agents. She didn't learn those skills from just anywhere"

Bucky wordlessly walked out of the room, unable to sit and hear another word. His heart broke for the baby who'd been forced into Hydra's hands without a fighting chance. Yes, you had been raised by someone who wanted to love and care for you but you'd been tortured and trained more than anyone else and after you finally escaped with a life for yourself, he'd accused you of betraying him. He hated that he had come to Fury for answers when he could've just let you speak instead, letting his own anger cloud his judgement. He still didn't know where you'd disappeared to or who you'd be on the phone with but Bucky had to speak to you, no matter what it took.

-

"I'm only giving you her location because she sounds miserable and I'm assuming it's because she misses you. If she pulls a gun my head because of this, its on you" Tony mumbled, scribbling something onto a sheet of paper and stuffing it into Bucky's hand. "You better grovel your ass off"

Bucky couldn't care less about traffic laws as he swerved through the streets to get to you, his motorbike revving through the city till he reached a dingy looking apartment building. He frowned, double checking the address before parking his bike and walking to the lobby. Bucky made his way to the concierge, the man seemingly recognizing him immediately.

"Sargent, I'm assuming you're the boy she's been moping over" The man at the front desk gave him a pointed look, giving him a key and directing him to go to the top floor before he could even say anything. Bucky's cheeks reddened with embarrassment, nodding with a thank you before dashing off to get to you.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he was surprised to find the peeling and dusty hall way empty with just one door right in the middle. His heart hammered against his chest as he shakily raised his hand to knock. He could hear shuffling on the other side, wiping his palm against his jeans when he hard the lock click open.

"Baby, I'm so sorry I- oh-mam, I'm sorry, I must have the wrong address-“

An elderly woman opened the door, her eyes twinkling as she looked him up and down, taking his metal hand in hers and pulling him inside. Bucky stood in confused silence as he entered the large apartment, which was a stark contrast to the mess it appeared to be on the outside. The interior was sleek; the apartment large enough to take up the entire floor. It made sense why the whole hall only had one door. A large living area was off to the right, decorated with a mix of abstract and modern art; a lot of the pieces reminding him of things that you would paint yourself-

"You must be James" she hummed, taking him into the living room while Bucky's jaw was still hanging, utterly perplexed over where he was. "Let me get your girl"

"My girl?"

Before he could get another word in, the woman disappeared, coming back moments later, dragging you with her. You stood stiffly, refusing to meet his eyes while she huffed, giving you a gentle push towards him.

"Now you both sit and talk" And with that, she left.

"Y/n" Bucky want to fall to his knees and beg you to forgive him, his heart breaking over the way you looked at him like a stranger. The eyes that used to hold so much love, so much spark were now hollow and empty and full of hurt.

"No. You didn't even give me a chance to explain myself Bucky" You kept your voice as steady as you possibly could, your throat already starting to grow painfully tight. You weren't one to cry easily, especially after years of training to repress your emotions but Bucky was your weakness.

"I know. I was wrong, I should've listened to you, it was so wrong of me, I-It's just-I'm not excusing myself, I promise, it's just-I didn't know what to think and I'd always hear you on the phone, sometimes you'd disappear for hours and you wouldn't tell me where, I-I'm sorry I thought the worst when I saw that file. It doesn't change the fact that I didn't let you get a word in. I'm so sorry angel"

You sighed, letting your heart soften. You knew Bucky came with his own baggage of trust issues and while you'd wanted to tell him about the phone calls and visits, you worried about if any of it would make him uncomfortable.

"It was my mother" You whispered, anxiously fidgeting with your fingers, "That's who I'd call and come to see. Well my adoptive mother. Handler. She was like a mother to me"

"But-I thought-" Bucky blinked in confusion, Fury had made it clear the woman had passed before you escaped, "She's alive?"

"I helped her escape with me. We faked her death so they wouldn't come searching for her. She had been captured there to work as a nurse. We changed our names. I didn’t want her living there anymore after I left. This is her place; Tony was nice enough to renovate a penthouse for me without asking questions. Before I joined the team, we'd lay low in cheap rentals. Now I know she's always safe. The concierge is a trained agent"

Bucky felt an inkling of hope when he stepped towards you and you didn't step back. He nervously brought his hand to hold yours, letting out the breath he was holding when you didn't pull away.

"Please forgive me baby, I-I should've given you a chance to explain, I'm so sorry" Bucky squeezed your hand, his thumb coming to brush away the tear that trailed down your cheek.

"You hurt me" You whispered, sniffling. "I'm not upset that you got mad or felt hurt and confused. But you thought I was an agent Bucky. You-you thought I'd do something to hurt you" The last word barely made it out as the first sob escaped. You were able to take Bucky's hurt and confused but no the fact that he'd doubt your love for him, "Did you think I-I didn't love you?"

"No! I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry baby. For everything. For everything you had to go through, for everything I said. I shouldn't have acted like that. I should have trusted you, I know you love me, no one's ever loved me the way you do doll"

“How could you not trust me. Why didn’t you at least let me explain it to you Bucky”

“I know baby, m'so sorry" Seeing your walls crumble made Bucky's heart ache, his body moving on its own to wrap you in a protective hug. He hated to be the cause of your tears, understanding why you'd been nervous to tell him about your past. Of course you came with your own traumas from Hydra and even though he endured similar things, it still wasn't easy to open up about. "Will you please come back home? You don't have to stay in our room, you don't even have to forgive me, just- please baby"

You melted into his embrace having missed his warmth, his scent, his safe arms.

"I should have told you. I-I was scared-

"Shhh, I understand. You don't have to explain it, m'sorry i didn't know and lashed out. Please come home baby" He whispered against your hair, kissing the top of your head while keeping you pressed to his body. You nodded against his chest, too lost in hugging him back to notice your mother's watery smile or happy sniffles.

"Take me home, Bucky"

-

Of course after you'd come home, Bucky continued to earn your forgiveness, making sure you understood he'd never doubted your feelings for him. He starts to join you as well when you go to visit your mother, blushing when she calls him handsome. Butterflies erupt in his tummy when she give him her blessing while he fidgets with a ring he'd bought, keeping it safely in a velvet box for the right moment.

During vulnerable nights there are times where he needs you to hold him and nights where you need him just as much. He loves that he can comfort and hold you too, letting you pour your heart out when you feel like it or humming soft lullabies till you fall asleep when you don't feel like talking. One thing that is for sure, he'd never push you away from him again. There no one else on this earth that he loves and trusts more than you.

Once again, this version was meant to be trashed so. pls.

[worldsmessiestwriter]

That’s the trifecta.

tw - nothing

word count - 1,446

Peter Parker x Spoiled Stark! Reader

—————————————————————————

Tony Stark always claimed to be a genius, but lately, Y/N Stark was convinced her father was losing his touch. His latest invention? A scrawny high school intern named Peter Parker, who had somehow managed to worm his way into Tony’s good graces—and worse, into her carefully curated world.

For months now, her father had been spending hours mentoring Peter, teaching him things Y/N had assumed were reserved for her. The betrayal stung more than she cared to admit, so she covered it the only way she knew how: by making Peter’s life completely miserable.

And Peter, to his credit, was no pushover. Sure, he’d try to ignore her snide comments and fake-sweet tone, but every so often, he’d snap back. To Y/N, it was thrilling. To Peter, it was exhausting.

“Parker, you’re in my seat,” Y/N said one afternoon, stepping into her father’s lab with the kind of air that made everyone instinctively straighten up. She wasn’t wearing her school uniform today—Tony had summoned her for some family meeting—but her designer outfit looked as though it cost more than the entire workshop.

Peter didn’t bother looking up from the blueprint he was studying. “It’s not your seat, Y/N. It’s just a chair.”

“Aw, how quaint,” she said, leaning over the table so her perfectly polished nails tapped against the blueprint. “But it is my seat because this is my father’s lab. You? You’re just visiting.”

Peter finally looked up, clearly annoyed. “I’ve been working here all afternoon. You’ve been, what? Shopping? Getting another manicure?”

“Guilty,” Y/N said with a dazzling smile. “But let’s not act like I don’t contribute. I’m a Stark. My existence contributes.”

“Sure,” Peter said flatly. “That must be exhausting for you.”

Tony’s voice cut through before Y/N could retort. “Alright, that’s enough.” He was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Y/N, stop terrorizing Parker. Parker, stop taking the bait.”

“Who’s baiting who?” Y/N said innocently, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Starting Monday,” he said casually, “you’re transferring to Midtown High.”

Y/N froze. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Tony said. “You and Parker are going to the same school. I think spending more time together will help you two work out… whatever this is.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, but she quickly recovered, plastering on her usual radiant smile. “You’re funny, Dad. But no.”

Tony smirked. “It’s not up for discussion, kiddo.”

Her smile faltered. “But why? I already have friends, fans and status at my school.”

“Exactly,” Tony said. “Time to shake things up. You’ll survive.”

Y/N had prepared for her debut like it was a runway show. She stepped onto the Midtown High campus in a outfit tailored to perfection, her signature confident smile in place. The effect was immediate: heads turned, whispers spread, and within minutes, she had a flock of curious students trailing behind her.

“Oh, my God,” one girl gushed. “You’re so pretty. Are you, like, famous?”

Y/N tilted her head with a practiced laugh. “Not officially. But give it time.”

By lunchtime, she was firmly entrenched at the most exclusive table in the cafeteria. She sat at the center, sipping sparkling water she’d brought from home while her new entourage hung on her every word.

Peter, sitting at his usual table with Ned and MJ, stared in disbelief. “She’s been here for, what, five hours? How is she already the most popular person in school?”

“She’s rich, confident, and mean,” MJ said without looking up from her book. “That’s the trifecta.”

Y/N caught Peter’s eye from across the cafeteria and gave him a little wave, her smile impossibly sweet. Peter groaned.

“Parker!” she called, loud enough for the room to hear. “Shouldn’t you be eating your vegetables? You need to keep up your strength for all that… science-ing.”

Ned snickered, but Peter just glared. “She’s the worst.”

Y/N’s transition to Midtown High wasn’t just about popularity—it was another battleground for her rivalry with Peter.

In physics, the teacher announced a pop quiz, and Y/N immediately raised her hand. “Do we really need a quiz? I mean, it’s so basic. Even Parker might pass.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Y/N.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” she said brightly, as if he’d genuinely thanked her.

When the grades came back, Y/N had scored a near-perfect 98%. Peter, to his frustration, had a 96%.

“Aw, so close,” Y/N said as they exited the classroom. “Maybe next time, Parker.”

“It’s two points,” Peter said, gritting his teeth.

“Two points that separate the winners from the losers,” Y/N said, flashing him a dazzling smile.

The real showdown came a few weeks later at a party thrown by one of the popular kids. Naturally, Y/N was the star of the event, gliding through the room like royalty. Peter, dragged there by Ned and MJ, tried to stay out of her way.

But Y/N, of course, found him.

“Parker,” she said, appearing at his side with a drink in hand. “You clean up… decently. For a boy from Queens.”

Peter turned to face her, already annoyed. “And you’re still the same, no matter where you go.”

“Flattered,” Y/N said, raising her glass. “But you’ll have to be more specific. Same gorgeous face? Same impeccable style?”

Peter smirked. “Same need to make everything about you.”

Y/N’s smile faltered for just a second before she recovered. “It’s not a ‘need,’ Peter. It’s a gift. One you clearly don’t have.”

Before he could respond, the crowd called for a game of trivia. Naturally, Y/N and Peter ended up on opposing teams.

The competition was fierce, each of them determined to outshine the other. When Y/N’s team finally won, she couldn’t resist throwing Peter a smug smile.

“Better luck next time, Parker,” she said, flipping her hair as she walked away.

Despite their constant bickering, there were moments when their rivalry softened. One afternoon, during a group project, they found themselves working late in the library.

“You know,” Peter said, breaking the silence, “you don’t always have to be… like this.”

“Like what?” Y/N asked, not looking up.

Peter hesitated. “Perfect. It’s okay to just be yourself.”

Y/N’s hand froze mid-note, but she quickly recovered, her smile returning. “Why would I settle for ‘just myself’ when I can be everything?”

Peter sighed and despite his urges he didn’t leave. for the rest of the night, they worked in silence—until Y/N stole his last slice of pizza, just to prove she could.

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