#in my experience: big rumbly + slight shaky = FUCK

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

walking in the rain save me. walking in the rain. save me walking in the rain

[bump1nthen1ght]

Meet Cute (GN!Reader/Mothman)

Pairing: GenderNeutral!Reader/Male!Mothman

Genre: Cryptids

Warnings: Car accidents, descriptions of bruisings and pain

Word Count: 2564 words

Summary: After an incident, You find yourself in the care of a rather strange savior.

Request: Hey, long time fan, but I could never think of anything to request! I was wondering if cryptids were considered monsters here? Would you be willing to write a meet-cute with Mothman? Maybe something along the lines of them saving the reader from a disaster and sparks fly, and boy, if that's not a pun: like a moth to a flame. Mothman can be man or gender neutral, and I'd like the reader to be gender neutral! But everything is to your discretion! Have fun~! And thank you~!

He doesn’t usually do this.

As he cradles your neck, feeling the microfibers of human hair at the base of your skull and your thrumming heartbeat, it feels as if you could shatter apart in his talons. Your pupils flutter behind your eyelids, the pain of the collison definitely affecting you, even in your near-unconscious state. He sets you down on the scraps of thrown away jackets and ratty down-comforters, paying extra attention to your head and side, where splotches of purple and yellow already bloom up your ribcage. You easily fall into the warmth of the pile, snuggling into the fabric.

He sighs, anxiety decreasing as your body relaxes. Having already checked you, he thinks you should last a night before needing to go to a human hospital, just to double-check. He perches by you, tuning the ancient radio to a subtle night-time station, and waits.

Your chest flutters rhythmically, peacefully. Your features seem to shine in the firelight, catching the shadows and giving the appearance of a Baroque painting. So serene for someone just hit by a car.

He sighs.

He just hopes you won’t freak out.

-------

You wake up in a jerk, immediately filled with regret as your right side screams in pain. You clench your teeth, hand immediately checking your ribs as the memories of last night come flooding back.

You had been walking back home after a night out with your friends. You weren’t drunk, barely even tipsy, but had decided to walk the short path to your tiny house anyway. It was quick, just a 5 minute jaunt by the side of the highway and away from the bar. Just enough time for some asshole to swerve off the side of the road, send you flying, and take off without a care for the deer they assumed they just killed.

It takes a little while longer for you to process that you are definitely not in a hospital right now; Not even in your own house, or any house for that matter. A dying fire crackles nearby, the rising sun beams peaking through makeshift curtains attached to a structure of branches. You sit in a small pallet of fabric, right next to a collection of newspapers and old cctvs.

It’s ramshackle, sure, but well-loved. It doesn’t look like a permanent residence, but is lived-in nonetheless.

“Are you feeling alright?”

A calm tenor breaks the silence, causing you to shoot your eyes away from your surroundings and to focus on the person across from you.

Well, person probably isn’t the right word.

His eyes, even in the morning light, flash with red. They’re huge, set deeply into his face with very indistinguishable features. His neck is nestled into a large amount of fluff, reminiscent of winter scarf, that extends back into his large wings, which are tucked behind him. The antennas that flicker on top of his head are distinctly insect-like, but his long, muscular body and hands are more mammalian. Not human, but more similar to an animal. His hands are long and near-spindly, each finger ended with a long claw.

All these features should come together into an uncanny-valley, terror-inducing nightmare. But there’s something about his voice, the way he sits, so cautious yet concerned, that says the contrary.

“U-Uh...I think so.” You shift your body, a lightning bolt of pain shoots through your ribs and you wince. “I’ve felt better, though.” You tentatively lean down and touch your side, trying to check for a fracture without hurting yourself even more.

The creature stands up, wings still closed and kept to his back, and walks over to you.

“Would you mind if I checked your injuries? I have some experience with collisions such as yours.”

After a second, you nod. He steps closer to you, still moving at a micro-speed, and his hands slowly begin to wander up your side. You suck in a breath, but are more afraid of the potential pain than him. His slow, southern drawl reminds you of old movies and your grandpa, radiating comfort with almost every word. Plus, whatever he was, he had shown you more compassion than the human asshole who had hit you last night, so you felt a little more relaxed having him this close.

Nevertheless, he treats you gingerly, fingers just grazing your bruised side. You wince as his index finger finds a particularly dark bruise, and the creature quickly pulls back.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, it just-fuck that hurt.”

The creature nods but doesn’t move to touch you again.

“Does it hurt when you breathe deeply?”

You shake your head. You had been taking calming breaths to assuage the anxiety of waking up in what might be a monster’s den.

The monster hums, a light chittering sound, like several wind chimes all at once. He reaches over to a small, nearly-rotted, medicine bag in the corner and pulls out an ancient-looking jar of pain cream. He gingerly slides it towards you. “You may try this, it might relieve the pain for a while. Although you should probably see a human doctor to see if you’ve sustained any serious damage to your ribcage.”

You uncork the cream and tentatively dab a bit on your fingers, looking up with a  shaky smile to your savior.

“Uh, t-thank you. For everything-”

Growl

Your hand jerks to your stomach, face going flush as you accidentally brush against your swollen side. The creature perks up.

“I believe I have some human food. Would you like some?”

Sucking in a quick breath, trying to hide the tiny pain and your embarrassment, you nod.

The creature stands up, fumbling with the remains of a kitchen cabinet. From his hunched posture, you’d guess this tiny shelter isn’t big enough for his full height. With his long fingers, he reaches and flicks on the radio. The sounds of a local station’s jingle filters through the air as he grabs a can of beans from a shelf.

You slowly begin to rub in the medication to your side, occasionally looking up at your savior as he flutters around his den. Despite his extended limbs and large body, every movement is very similar to that of a human’s; He moves around the make-shift kitchen like a doting partner, a thought which brings a small blush to your face.

The illusion is shattered when he tears the top of the can clean off, cutting through the metal like a hot knife through butter. As he turns to rekindle the fire and start your breakfast, you quickly look back to your wound, trying to hide your curiosity.

The creature lazily stirs your breakfast as a song begins playing on the radio. The strumming bass is perfect for the morning haze, the low drawl of the singer rhythmic and relaxing. You notice the creature bobbing his head, humming along to the tune. His voice sounds slightly distorted, squeaking like the crackle of tv static. You find you quite like it.

The silence returns, filled only by the radio and the crackling fire. The creature's disposition is amicable, but you're still not sure how to initiate small talk.

“Um, thank you, again. For everything. You really saved my ass.”

The creature gestures with their hand as if to say “No problem.”

“I saw that man hit you with that car and take off. As you were hidden from the road, I thought it best I intervene.” The creature pulls off the now-cooked beans and grabs a spoon, handing the can to you. You take it eagerly, another rumble growling from your stomach. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were, foregoing all table manners to scarf down the breakfast.

“If I am being honest, I don’t typically interact with humans in such a….direct manner.”

“Ah, I guess that,” You eyes do another survey of his gangly, inhuman appearance, “makes sense.”

The creature nods, grabbing an apple before sitting across the fire from you. You can tell he is tense, probably waiting with baited breath for you to come to your senses and scream. There is a small part of you that wants too, desperately, but you silence it with a large mouthful of beans. The apple is tossed back and forth between the creatures hands, his eyes locked on the fire. The curiosity of how he eats things sneaks its way into your thought process. “Do you have a name?”

The creature perks, pausing it’s movements and looking at you with its large, red eyes.

“.....I’ve heard humans call me Mothman. I think it is quite accurate.”

You nod, swallowing down another bite of beans. “Do you...like that name?”

The creature doesn’t respond, eyes still piercing into your heart. His face has a small micro-expression, but you’re not sure you can read it. “Because my brother always said first impressions are the perfect time to reinvent yourself, so I could call you something else if you wanted?”

The creature's eyes flicker, in a movement you think is slight shock, before his eyes roll back to the fire. The small light of the fire flatters the dark black of his fur (You think it’s fur?) and only accentuate his large eyes, flashing and reflecting like rubies. In his relaxed position, he sort of looks….handsome.

“You may call me Mothman. Thank you for asking.”

You nod, letting the strumming banjo of a new song on the radio fill the void. The bouncy beat has you unconsciously bobbing your head as you scoop a spoonful.

“I love this song.” You mutter, lamenting how you're almost out of food to stuff your mouth with.

Mothman hums in agreement. “Me as well, this station is my favorite.”

Given your empty bean can, you take the leap into a conversation.

“Do you have a favorite kind of music genre?”

Mothman fiddles with the stem of his apple, brow (if it can even be called that) furrowing.

“I guess I never thought of what my favorite would be. I mostly listen to whatever the radio plays, enjoyable or not. Though,” Mothman points his thumb to the radio, “I love the sound this instrument makes, though I am unsure what it is called. It’s almost like….”

Mothman’s voice begins to make a squeaking trill, one extremely similar to that of plucked strings, although much sharper and shorter.

“Oh, you mean the banjo? Uh, the one that goes like-” You try your best to imitate the chords of the banjo, unconsciously moving your fingers to imitate playing. It’s not nearly as musical as Mothmans’, but his eyes widen and he nods excitedly.

“Yes! Yes, that sound is very pleasant. I’d say any music with that in it is my favorite.”

“Ah, country, that’s a really popular one around here. Have you ever heard ‘Goodbye Earl’ by The Chicks?”

Mothman shakes his head. Your face drops in surprise.

“Oh, it’s so good, it’s about-” As you lean over to give a long spiel about the song, another bolt of pain shoots up your side, forcing you to bite your cheek so as to not cry out. You keel over your legs, clutching your rib cage.

Right, car accident.

In a second, Mothman is next to you, tentatively laying a hand on your shoulder. His fingertips just barely brush your skin, yet you can still feel a slight fuzziness, the same that covers his whole body.

“You might want to see a human doctor, soon.” You suck in through your teeth, slowly adjusting yourself back upwards. “Yeah, yeah, that’s probably a smart idea.

“I can take you as far as the end of the highway, if you’d like to call a friend or a cab.”

You nod, not trusting your voice to stay steady. Mothman’s other hand slowly moves to your other hip, only applying a modicum of pressure.

“May I help you stand up?” He almost-whispers, a hot breath of air blowing across the side of your neck as he speaks. A shiver runs down your spine as his large fingers play gently against your skin, covering a good portion of your pelvis. You’re thankful you can explain away any blush with the pain. You nod once more.

The two of you stand up gingerly, Mothman almost extending to his full height and brushing the blanket-ceiling with his antennae. You take a couple of small steps, the pain in your side taking the occasional moment to sting you.

Your eyes squint as you exit the encampment, sun already fully risen and in your face.

“If at any point you feel uncomfortable or in pain, let me know.”

You turn your head towards Mothman, but before you can ask any questions he sweeps you up in a bridal carry and extends his wings in one motion. From the corner of your eyes you can see dark red patterns that swirl on them, invisible until caught by the sunlight. Your hands instinctively lace around his neck, fingers tucking into the soft fluff of his neck. Mothman gives you a quick nod and what you think is an assuring smile

Without a word, you two take off.

----------

You two fly low to the ground, Mothman expertly maneuvering through the trees and underbrush as he glides along the highway. You’re sure if you were to drive by, he’d look like a flickering shadow in the woods, nothing more.

He sets you down by the edge of town, just out of sight of the semi-busy main street. You basically collapse to your feet, heart pounding with adrenaline and mind wracked with “Holy fuck, I just flew with the goddamn Mothman.”

“This is where I must depart. Do you think you can find suitable transportation to the hospital from here?”

You nod, still trying to wrestle your vocabulary from ‘What the fuck, Holy shit, Oh my god.’

Mothman gives you another smile and comforting nod, patting you on the shoulder.

“Very good. Good luck on your travels. Oh, and try not to be hit by any cars, alright?”

With a playful glare from you, Mothman begins to unfurl his wings and ready himself to fly back into the woods, buut before he can-

“Wait! Uh….” Mothman halts, wings still wide open. Your mouth and mind stagger, not even sure what you wanted to say. “I have some old country cassettes back at my place. If I found my mom’s old WalkMan I could….show them to you? Some time, maybe? Give you a chance to be your own radio DJ?”

Mothman’s face remains relatively neutral, but the way his antennae unfurl and his wings slightly perk upwards betrays his interest. It’s extremely adorable, like a little kid who hears the word ‘ice cream.’

“Yes, I think I would love that.”

“A-Awesome.” You breath out, not realizing how long you had held it in. “Same place, maybe next Saturday? Though hopefully I won’t be thrown in there by a car this time.”

Mothman lets out a series of squeaks, which you assume is his laugh. He gives you a thumbs up. “Cool, it’s a date.”

With the last word, you walk away, still hobbling with your probably-fractured rib, a large smile on your face.

As Mothman flies away, the cold wind of a West Virginia morning blowing across his body, he can’t deny the certain warmth that radiates from his chest.

I have a date.

[domthedevil]

I'm absolutely loving your gentle series, could you maybe do Beel next? 👉👈

Big Beel is already so gentle and this made me weak in the knees. I don’t know what it is about this series but it’s so fun to write. Thank you for sending this in! Also is 3 AM so ignore my horrible errors.

Be Gentle pt 4

Warnings: Beel x AFAB!MC, loss of virginity

The stupid way Asmo and Mammon bickered over who you liked better only made Beel’s stomach rumble. Thinking there were better places to be, Beel crept out of the room and made his way to your room. He remembered you’d brought a special snack from the Human World for him. And he’d be lying if he said the previous conversation didn’t make him want to see you.

Hearing a knock on your door - a single loud thunk, you called for Beel to come in in response. Joyfully he walked in to see you relaxing in bed. He forgot you had been waiting for him to give this gift the him. He apologized softly before sitting behind you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you and the small present you held. Beel’s chin rested on your shoulder as your cheeks grew warm.

“I got a present from home. It’s my favorite.” Kissing his cheek softly you opened the box to show him the treat you had picked out just for him. That little dribble of drool you thought was adorable grazed your cheek. “B-Beel!!”

“S-Sorry!” He clumsily wiped his mouth and your cheek with the sleeve of his jacket. Your laugh assured him that you weren’t actually mad. Shifting to sit in his lap facing him, hands on his shoulders, you kissed his cheek again. Beel noticed hot warm your cheek was against his when you spoke lowly.

“Actually Beel...I was hoping I could ask you something?”

“Of course!” Beel managed to make out in between bites.

“MC...Im really happy.” His red cheeks framed the huge smile across his face. “I want to...be close to you.”

“You’re being too honest.” You nervously laughed. “But...if it’s you Beel, I know you’ll be gentle.”

“Of course.”

His husky voice brushed against Your lips as he kissed you softly. Too softly. But you smiled as he slowly pressed against you harder. Broad arms shed the jacket he normally wore, followed by his shirt. He knew they wouldn’t be missed. Now that they were bare, Beel’s arms wrapped around you tightly.

A small moan slipped through your puffy lips. Beel’s tongue wrestled yours into submission. His kisses were so different from anyone else’s. He knew how to work this muscle to achieve its peak performance. He groaned in response before further exploring your mouth. These small noises you made while he kissed you drove him insane. Beel blushed slightly as he thought about coming the other night to the thought of this. Of sharing this experience.

Rubbing his chest, soft but firm under your finger tips, your hips rocked slowly against his. Parting a moment from the intoxicating kiss, you let out a subtle gasp for air. Beel’s big hands travelled to your hips. Holding them still as he used his own hips to rub against you. The rough way he pressed his hardening cock against you made you wet. He was an impressive size. And you worried for a moment what it would feel like.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you MC.” His low soothing voice resounded in your core.

Holding you close, he rolled you both over. A little too eagerly, Beel helped you out of your clothing. Seeing you naked in front of him had that same small trail of drool run down his chin. You felt a little embarrassed, but flattered all the same. Wiping his mouth clean again, he lied onto you so that he could kiss you, and trail down to your sensitive nubs. A shaky moan from your excited voice made his member twitch with need.

“Is this good MC?” Beel needed validation and confirmation.

“You can be...a little rougher.” Your voice was small but laced with lust. Arms on his shoulders, you braces your self as his teeth nibbled around your peaks. Sucking and licking hungrily. “Nngh-! Y-yes...that’s good.”

As your hands tangle in his bright locks, his hands traveled under you. Your hips twitch at the feeling of his rough finger against your clit. Huffing Beel’s name quietly, he moved his finger in tight circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Making small waves of heat run through you. Beel grew harder the more you said his name. Fuck he was trying so hard to hold back. But this was about you, not just him.

Slipping a finger into your entrance, Beel was met with little resistance, though it felt as if it were two of your own fingers at once. You had already soaked the underwear you’d been wearing earlier,helping him ease into you. His second finger made your voice crack. Though not too thick or long, his fingers were still able to stretch parts of you that you’d never felt before. Beel whispered small encouragements as he worked to stretch you more.

“Does it hurt MC? I’ll stop if it does.”

“N-No. Don’t stop now.”

“You’re doing so well MC. Relax and let me take care of you.”

Moving away a moment, Beel’s face turned a deep red as he watched you watching him. Slowly the buckle on his belt and underwear descended and there you gazed upon his cock for the first time. He was intimidating, but you still bit your bottom lip with desire. The glazed look in your eye made Beel’s heart pound.

Holding your thighs together with his hands, Beel pulled you to the edge of your bed. Holding your legs vertically, he aligned his cock with the space between your thighs and swollen clit.

“Squeeze your thighs MC...I want to show you a little...how it’s going to feel.”

Following his suggestion and squeezing your legs tightly together, Beel thrusted his cock between your legs, tucked right above your dripping sex and slamming the tip of his cock against your clit. You couldn’t stop the moans leaving you breathless. Gripping at the sheets below you and twisting with pleasure only encouraged Beel to thrust faster and harder.

A deep burning in your core started to become unbearable. Every ridge on his shaft covered itself in your delicious slick. Your sensitive pearl being roughly pressed sent wave after wave of ecstasy over you. Soon it crashed against your shores. Walls clenching around nothing, your first orgasm had your hips twitching. Beel had to stop himself from drooling again as he admired your lewd expression. His hips had stopped once he realized your moans were growing sexier and sexier.

“M-more. Beel I want more...” you managed to puff and pant out as you spread your legs.

“I love you MC.” He held your hands in his large and rough ones. Rubbing his slick covered dick in short thrusts and pressing the tip of his cock inside you, your relaxed walls and wet pussy wanted to suck him inside. However he was going to move slow. Easing himself in, Beel groaned as it passed inside of you for the first time. You hissed loudly, holding back the cry you wanted to let out. A few small tears fell as your breathing regulated. A sharp pain had scared you a moment, but it had faded to a dull ache.

“Beel...I love you.” Your shaky voice rang out as he continued to sink himself into your warmth. “It feels so strange but...it feels so good too.”

“Do you want me to move?”

You nodded as your arms wrapped around his neck. Placing a soft kiss to your cheek, he lifted his hips in slow thrusts. Letting the feeling of his dick pulling in and out of you linger each time he moved. Licking soothingly on your neck he moved as evenly as possible.

“Is that good?”

“Mmn...m-more Beel.”

His grin and the glimmer in his amethyst eyes made you fall even more in love with him. As his hips sped up he began to press against a very sensitive spot. With how much he was stretching you it felt like every thrust built the heat in your core.

“Y-yes.”

He loved how vocal you were. Hearing how much you liked it encouraged him. Gave him freedom to indulge as well. Knowing he was the first to see this side of you made him blush furiously. This sight was just for him. Straightening his back, Beel looked down at you as he bounced you up and down his cock. Seeing the full picture made his orgasm quicken. And soon your name fell from his lips like a spell he had to remember for class.

“Beel I’m close again. It’s so tight and hot. W-what do I do?” There was a slight panic in your tone.

“Shhh...hold on to me.”

Wrapping his arms around your torso again, Beel buried his face into your neck. Your hasty moans and whimpers made him drool uncontrollably. This time there was no stopping it. But you were too focused on the burning coil about to spring inside you.

“Coming...” Beel could barely make out your whine. But he knew he had heard you clearly when your walls flexed and pulsed and squeezed around him. A deep guttural sound echoed in your room as Beel unexpectedly felt himself come inside you. You begged him to still a moment as your whole body twitched and adjusted back to gravity. Your orgasm had run so deep your toes were numb.

“MC. Are you...?” Beel’s voice trailed off as he finished cleaning you and himself up. Still nude, he rested on the bed beside you. Locking eyes with yours.

“I’m great Beel. That was so amazing.” You bit your lip again, looking at him with bedroom eyes. “Can we...do it again?”

Letting out a hearty chuckle, Beel lifted you so that you straddled his waist above him.

“Anything for you MC.”

“You’re drooling Beel...”

This is a continuation of a request. Read more here:

Be Gentle (Levi x AFAB!MC)

Be Gentle (Belphegore x AFAB!MC)

Be Gentle (Satan x AFAB!MC)

[trashytummiez]

Double Tummy Trouble

@squidbiscuit inspired another cute fic idea of both bois having tummy troubles after eating too much spicy food.  I can’t resist sick burpy bois. :3

Raihan heaved to himself in a sickly fashion.  His breathing was shaky and uneven.  It felt like he was sinking in his own heavy stomach.  He was used to eating too much but it usually wasn’t that excessively spicy.

And eating so much of the extra spicy meats was doing a number on his aching tummy.

Raihan whined.  

He was groggily slumped over the side of the bed with one arm wrapped around his stomach.  It was sticking out a little beneath his hoodie and churned noisily.  He lurched a little and puffed out his cheeks, blowing to the side and huffing in a sickly fashion.

Piers entered the bedroom holding his own bulging belly and erupted with a long burp.

HuuuuuuurrrrrrooooooooohrrrAAAAAAAAAAAHP!!!!

Piers huffed heavily with his tongue sticking out in a carelessly lewd fashion.

“Ungh, fuck,” Piers groaned patting his belly hard until he sat himself down on the bed besides Raihan.  He was looking pretty green himself as he huffed again and massaged his aching tummy hard.  “What were ye sayin’?”

Raihan tried to speak but felt a bubble rushing up his throat.  He muffled in a heavy burp by keeping his fist pressed his mouth.  Then he turned his head to blow aside and huff in a sickly manner.  “Ungh, I think something came up with that one...”

He felt another rush of warmth rising up his throat but couldn’t tell if it was a burp or his lunch so he held it in and let it rumble in his mouth so he could blow aside again.  Doing so left him with this sour look on his face.

In contrast Piers thumped his chest and expelled a burp so strong that Raihan could feel their mattress rattle in its wake.  He sighed heavily and leaned back to rub his noisy belly while it churned heavily in his grasp.

Raihan groaned uncomfortably and buried his head into their bed so he could whine pitifully.

“Whyyyyyyy did we do that stupid mukbang with extra spicy meat...?”

Piers’ stomach bubbled noisily.  He cringed and reeled forward with his arms wrapped around his middle.  At first he held a finger up to Raihan while holding another against his mouth.  Then he blew his hand back with a loud guttural belch.  Piers gasped after and thumped his chest to release another throaty burp right after without much pause to catch his breath.

“Haaaahhh...” Piers moaned and lifted his thin shirt up to expose the pale bulging tummy beneath.  Then he rubbed his aching belly firmly with his hand while patting his chest with his palm.  “We did that stupid bollocks ‘cuz ye wanted t’sho-oORrhp!  Ungh, ye wanted t’show off to yer fans, mate.  Same reason we-urp-always do stupid shit...urp...”

Even after some of the bubbles worked their way up his throat Piers could feel another big one coming.  He slumped forward and held his belly with both hands and released a burp so hard and throaty that Piers was left panting when it ended and rubbing his throat with a sour look on his face.

Raihan didn’t bother climbing up on bed.  He just lazily reached up from his slouched position between the floor and the bed and placed his hand against Piers’ tummy, kneading into it as he ran his hand up and down.

Piers huffed and slumped back to make his tummy stick out a little more then rested his hands against the mattress for support.

“G-Gotta give the people what they want...r-right...?” Raihan weakly asked while firmly massaging Piers’ taut bulging stomach.

Piers took a breath and released a huge burp in response.

BWAAAAAAAUUUUUUURRROOOOOOOOORRHP!!!!!!

It was so big that Raihan could feel Piers’ stomach shake a little in its expulsion.  He sighed deeply after and nearly flopped backwards on the mattress with utter relief but only didn’t because Raihan was still massaging his bulging tummy.

“Fffffuckin’‘ell I needed that...” Piers sighed.

Raihan couldn’t help but blush even in his sickly state and groggily looked up at Piers.

“You’re not usually this burpy when we get all grumbly...”

“Better t’be burpy then pukey...” Piers mumbled then grinned.  “Sides, ye know ya like it, ye mental nutter...”  He puffed to the side and gave his belly a few relieved pats even with Raihan still kneading and rubbing into it.

Then Raihan’s own stomach churned and bubbled loudly.

Raihan winced and doubled over in pain.  

“OooooOoOOoooohhhhh my stomach...” Raihan whimpered and clenched his eyes shut like he was about to tear up.

Piers looked down at his sickly boyfriend.  In spite of how dodgy his stomach was being the rockstar slid down so he was sitting on the floor and leaning against the bed with Raihan.

“C’mere mate.”

Piers carefully laid Raihan down so his head and shoulders were resting against Piers’ lap.  Then Piers pulled Raihan’s hoodie up and started to rub Raihan’s noisy, aching tummy in firm circles.  

Raihan whimpered but groaned a little with a breathy sigh.  He badly needed Piers’ magic touch right now.  So Piers’ fingers dug into Raihan’s tummy and kneaded into it while it burbled heavily even kneading into Raihan’s belly button which caused the young dragon trainer to moan a little more audibly.

“Yer gut sounds extra bubbly mate.  Ye gotta get it out.”

Raihan groaned again 

“Mrph too full,” Raihan complained.  “If I burp I might puke...”

“Ye.  And?”

“And I don’t wanna puke...” Raihan replied sharp as he could in his sickly state.  But then his stomach gurgled really noisily and wetly.  He held a hand up over his mouth looking like he was on the verge of throwing up with how much greener his face was getting.

Piers shook his head.

“Relax mate.  Here.”

Piers leaned down so both of his hands could be wrapped around Raihan’s belly.  He grabbed at the center and used his fingers to press down into that burgeoning bubbling tummy.

Raihan winced and brought a fist to his mouth but Piers pushed his hand aside.

“Just let it out, mate,” Piers insisted just as he pushed down a little more.

Raihan whimpered but when the bubbling rose up his throat he couldn’t hold it back even if he wanted to.

BAAAAAAAUUUUUURRRRAAAAAHHHEEEEIIIIILHP!!!!!!!

To Raihan’s shock he himself unleashed a rip-rolling burp that exploded out of his mouth for seven straight seconds.  Piers could feel Raihan’s tummy quiver in his hands as he squeezed the turbulent gas out.

Raihan’s head rolled back into Piers lap while he huffed and panted desperately.

“Hhhhhhaaaaaaahhhh...oh man...” Raihan moaned in a daze and wipe some drool from his chin.  “That’s...so much...AAAAAAAHHHWOOOOOORRRP!!!!”

His thoughts were interrupted when Piers applied some more pressure to Raihan’s belly when he rubbed into it and worked another big wet burp out from his boyfriend.  

Piers thumped the side of Raihan’s tummy a few times which made it noisily slosh until a wet burp rolled out of Raihan’s mouth.  Then he pressed down on Raihan’s lower tummy.  Another deep burp rumbled up followed by a lower and softer one soon after that.

“There ya go.  Get it all out,” Piers said and palmed his chest, letting off a burp of his own since his own tummy was still feeling dodgy.

Raihan panted after an especially heavy burp.  Piers felt up Raihan’s engorged stomach to feel for more tension.  When he couldn’t feel any more he grinned in a satisfied manner.  That intense churning had been replaced with a more idle burble.

“Better?” Piers asked.

Raihan hummed with his eyes closed and huffed again.  “...Could you rub my belly a lil bit longer...?  Please...?”

Piers smiled and resumed stroking Raihan’s burgeoning stomach softly up and down in a far more gentle manner.  At points it was a little more sensual when Piers traced his single finger up and down Raihan’s tummy and got him groaning in a more satisfied manner.

He leaned down to plant a kiss on Raihan’s forehead but their bellies churned at the exact same time.

In perfect unison both Piers and Raihan turned their heads to let out these huge rumbling burps.  Piers’ lasted a few seconds longer than Raihan’s.

When it ended Piers slumped back and palmed his belly.

“...Ungh, we ain’t ever doin’ that stupid spicy challenge shit again...” Piers mumbled.

“...BWAAAAAUUUUURRRRUUUUHP!!!!  Unnngh...agreed, mate...agreed...” Raihan muttered after another throaty burp.  But in spite of that he managed a slight grin when he looked up at Piers.  “At least we beat it, right?”

“Considerin’ we both feel like absolute shite, I’mma call it a draw...” Piers complained.

Raihan hiccuped but still managed a small smile.  “Well I feel a little less crappy in your hands, mate.”

Piers rolled his eyes.  “Sappy sod...”

And yet he still leaned down to gently kiss that ‘sappy sod’ so clearly he didn’t mind Raihan’s sappiness too much.

No matter how bad their bellies hurt in that moment, being with one another always dulled the pain just a little bit.

That and they both had pretty extensive experience rubbing an aching tummy after one or the other overdid it.

[scribeofmorpheus]

Counterpart [2/5]

Pairing: Bucky x Reader x Framework!Steve

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Words: 4k

A/N: Just to clear up any confusion, in the Framework the blip and Thanos’s undertaking never happened. Civil War was between Hydra and what was left of Avengers/Shield and the Sokovia Accords weren’t just about registration but an official order branding Shield as terrorists and reinstating the Winter Soldier Program- it passed. Also, Clint has always been Ronin, Hawkeye doesn’t exist in the framework.

Warnings: This chapter contains depictions and mentions of cheating, has drug use, language, slight NSFW and some angst. It’s a dark series, expect a darker take.

Leave a like, comment or reblog-highly appreciated! ☺  Taglist is open

PART TWO: DOPPELGANGERS

~Avengers Compound

"Grrrrrhh!" Bucky flipped the table in a burning fury.

Wanda and Sam looked on at a loss, feeling completely helpless.

"Hey, Bucky try and calm down," Sam said softly.

"How am I supposed to stay calm when she's out there, helpless and alone, knowing it's all my fault?" Bucky shouted.

Wanda took a small step forward, "Bucky, there's no way you could ha--"

"I'm her partner Wanda. We are supposed to keep each other safe! She isn't here right now and it's my fault!" Bucky bit back.

Wanda folded her trembling hands under her poncho as she took a step back, her eyes landing on the cup Y/N had drunk tea from a few hours earlier. Her eyes were sad but lit with fury.

"You think you're the only one who feels responsible? If I hadn’t been so afraid to get on that damned jet, maybe none of this would have happened!"

Wanda's words stung at everyone in the room, making them all flinch at her sudden outburst. The red mist that accompanied her abilities snaked around her form.

Sam unfolded his hands and held them out to try and calm his companions, "Look, let’s all take a breath. We all care about Y/N. We're all worried. But that don't change the fact that all we can do is wait until we get a ping on her location. Fighting isn’t goin’ to change that. Neither will flippin’ furniture."

Bucky let out another guttural shout and connected his non-metal fist into the wall. When his knuckles removed themselves, they were bloodied and the skin was serrated by the shattered wall plaster.

"We don't have time to wait," Bucky said hoarsely. "Those people we found in the submarine. They all flat-lined once whatever that experiment they were part of was completed. If they're doing the same thing to her--"

Bucky slumped to the ground, his head hanging low between his knees as his hands trembled against fists full of hair.

"Screw this!" Wanda stormed out of the room.

"Wanda, where are you going?" Sam asked.

"It'll be a cold day in hell before I lose another person I care about," she said with a vicious tone. "I'm not gonna sit around here and feel sorry for myself. I'm going to talk to someone who actually can help me!"

Then she disappeared, flying out in a brilliant red streak.

Sam sighed, the weight of leading the team was heavier than he was initially prepared for. He felt just as helpless as everyone else right now. If he couldn't be the leader they needed right now, the least he could be was a compassionate shoulder to lean on.

Sam sat down next to Bucky, at first all that filled the room was this perpetual feeling of nothingness- a distinct absence of sound beside ragged breathing and tree branches tapping on plated glass from the strong howling wind. It was almost as though the wind had adapted to their moods; angry, afraid and confused. Then, after a few minutes passed, Bucky spoke with a shaky voice.

"You were right, Sam."

"About?"

"I kept stalling abut asking Y/N to marry me because... I was afraid."

Sam rose his eyebrows in disbelief, "Were you afraid she'd say no? Because, I can tell you now, we can all see how much she loves you. There's no way she'd say no."

Bucky ran a rand through his hair as he looked up at the memorial portrait of Steve dressed in his first Captain America suit. Next to it were portraits of Tony and Nat and Vision. All their faces smiling and proud. Even though it was a way of commemorating all they'd done, of honouring those who fell, Bucky couldn't help but feel their smiles were mocking him right now.

"It's not that," Bucky said. "I was afraid she'd say yes. How fucked up is that?"

Sam let out a deep breath, "Actually, it ain't that fucked up."

"I just couldn't shake the feeling that if I kept putting off asking her, then I could somehow stop this fucked up world we live in from finding some way to ruin one of the last few good things I have left."

“Fucked up world, huh?” Sam's eyes fell on the wall of portraits instinctively, a bitter taste forming in his mouth. "I get it. People like us, we get accustomed to a certain degree of loss. After a while, we begin to anticipate it."

Bucky’s head fell back onto the wall with a light thud, "Yeah, that's round about it. Guess you and I aren't so different, Tin-can."

"Listen, don't take this to mean I want you to buy me matchin' friendship bracelets or braid each other’s hair but…" Sam's fist tapped Bucky's right arm, nudging the frozen stiff soldier. "If you need to talk to someone, once all this is over, I know someone who can help."

Sam's sincere words caused Bucky to swallow loudly. He hated feeling vulnerable. Despite Shuri's great work at undoing what Hydra had done to his fractured mind, he still had a lot of their training ingrained in him. He was trained to be a lone wolf and despite how hard he tried to let people in, it was still something he struggled with. Perhaps that was an old habit he needed to change.

"Thanks, Sam. I might just take you up on that."

"Good, now get some rest. You aren't no good to me or Y/N if you burn yourself out before we get a lock on her co-ordinates."

Bucky sighed, "Alright. You gonna go after Wanda?"

Sam thought on Bucky's question for a moment, "With her firepower, I think she can handle herself."

Bucky groaned as he picked himself off the floor and offered Sam a hand, "That's not what I meant."

Sam grumbled as he dusted his sweatpants once off the floor, "I know. She's angry. I think all this has brought back a lot of pain she's been keepin’ buried. I think, despite how bad the circumstances are, she needs to have an outlet for all that anger. She needs to burnout."

Sam glanced over at the portrait of Vision for a brief pause and then back at Steve's, doubt clouding his usually clear eyes. "Until then..."

Bucky placed his hand on Sam's shoulders, "You're doing proud by him. Don't doubt that. It's a heavy mantle to carry. Steve left behind big shoes to fill. You're a good leader, it just takes time. An adjustment period."

Sam chuckled wistfully and patted Bucky's hand on his shoulder, "Yeah, thanks Bird-man."

Bucky hummed something reassuring but his eyes were still dark, they made him look lonelier than he probably felt. A part of him still found solace in seclusion and that part of him wanted to be alone with his feelings.

Bucky left the room, his slumped shoulders informing Sam of his state of mind despite his attempts to try and act as though he now had things under control.

Sam looked up at Steve's portrait one more time, "We're a mess without you man."

~Elsewhere

The sound of girls playing in the back yard softened Wanda's mood slightly as she approached the wooden porch. The childish laughter and squeals reminded her of Pietro as a young, energetic boy.

Ever since she lost Vision, Wanda had been thinking about Pietro more and more. There was a darkness looming over her and the only time she felt somewhat like herself was during the small moments she and Y/N would share together. The red hue brightening her eyes fizzled out like a worn-out candle's flame.

Wanda felt heavy. Her heart threatened to sink back into sadness at the realisation that she may very well lose Y/N too.

With shaky hands, Wanda's petite, ring covered fingers rapped on the wooden door in slow repetitive stroke.

She didn't know what she was doing here, or why she had thought it a good idea, but she was here and she couldn’t unring this bell.

When the door opened, Wanda's fingers fidgeted slightly as she cleared her throat -her old accent slipping out between vowels from urgency.

"I- I'm sorry to just turn up here. I should have called ahead, b- but… I need your help."

"Something's happened, hasn't it?"

Wanda nodded.

The door swung open wider, letting Wanda into the house.

The water waved and lapped softly against the edges of the tub, toes curled at the end of the tub as your head tilted backwards in euphoric bliss. Steve's warm chest heaved up and down behind you, your body moving with the strong motions of his chest. His hands working tantalising circles around your lower body submerged under the hot water and fizzling out bubbles. The scented candles flooded your senses, numbing the former migraine that once agitated your brain.

Steve's heated breath tickled your ear as he whispered sweet nothings, causing your fingers to wrap around his nape.

"You like that?" He increased the pressure around his fingers making you gasp and move instinctively into his touch. Water spilt over the tub and onto the floor.

"Mmmm, yes," you moaned, toes curling and uncurling.

A low rumble escaped his lips right when they found the nape of your neck and placed suckling kisses on it.

"How about we take this to the bedroom?" He rumbled lowly, desire saturating each word.

"Yessss," you strained against his surgical touch. It was as though he knew your body better than you did.

Steve manoeuvred your body so you were no longer laying above him and he stepped out of the tub, water dripping from his wet body. His muscles seemingly glistening from the light hitting the moisture dripping off him. He turned around and instantly swooped you out of the tub, marching you towards the bedroom with hooded eyes burning across your equally wet body.

***

The coffee maker gurgled loudly as it filled with dark coffee that probably tasted as strong as it smelled. You reached into the fridge for the jug of orange juice and closed the fridge shut with your bare foot.

Steve was dressed in a three-piece suit (minus the tie) that hugged his frame flatteringly while he read the newspaper with a half-eaten plate of pancakes. A sub-headline caught your attention. It read: ‘Silver-Blue Blur Spotted in Sokovia?’

You poured yourself a glass of orange juice and sat back down on the table, a small tablet running through the highlights of the week.

Several headlines read: ‘Hydra Seizes Stark Assets; Director Pierce Re-Instates Winter Soldier Program; The Iron Maiden's Reign of Terror Continues; Peter Parker Still Missing; Asgardian Queen Hela Threatens War; Mischief in Moldova?’

"The Iron Maiden?" You repeated, unfamiliar with the term.

Steve noticed your brow was arched in suspicion, your lips pursed in thought, small dimples forming on your cheeks.

"Hydra believes Pepper Potts is trying to recruit more anarchists into whatever remains of Shield," he said nonchalantly as he took his empty mug and refilled it with more coffee. "Our drones spotted Pietro Maximoff in Sokovia earlier this week. Which is not surprising since this is the anniversary of his sister’s death."

You shook your head, unable to reconcile what he was saying.

"Wanda's dead?" You whispered to yourself so Steve wouldn't hear you.

Another migraine pinched at the base of your skull, causing pain to shoot through your eye while you reached for the orange juice. Your vision doubled as the pain worsened and you knocked the glass over, one hand bracing against your temple as you hissed.

"Ahhggg!" You yelped.

Steve set his Hydra stamped mug on the counter and rushed to your side, cupping your face in his strong hands.

"Again?" He asked with calm eyes but a disturbed face.

"Y-yeah..." you barely managed to get the words out.

Steve rushed to the bedroom and suddenly the image of you and Wanda sitting on a couch with cups held between your fingers came to life across the room like a projection. By the stove, a man with long dark hair looked out through your window, the smell of burning toast tickling your nostrils. The morning light obscuring his reflection.

You glanced down at your ring and felt an insurmountable measure of guilt, when you looked back up the projections vanished, leaving an ashed taste in your mouth. Your thumb kept rotating your ring like a nervous tick, your eyes frantically flickering from the couch to the stove in search of the ghosts you had just seen.

Questions that couldn't be answered screamed inside you as you started to hyperventilate. Why were you and the Scarlett Witch acting like buddies? Who was the man with the blue and gold-tinted metal arm? Why did all this feel more real than the furniture you were sat on? Why was Steve taking so damn, fucking long to get your pills?

"What is going on?" You said in fear, unable to trust your own mind.

As if on cue, Steve came back out with your pill bottle, one small pill already placed on his outstretched palm. You devoured it thankfully and let out an appreciative sigh as Steve kissed your numbing temples.

Steve pulled out his phone and started dialling.

"What are you doing?"

Steve looked at you oddly, "I'm taking the day off, my wife isn't at her best."

You held up your hand to stop him, "Nonsense, your work is more important."

"Hey," he hushed you as he caressed your cheek, "Nothing is more important to me than you and Sarah. Got it?"

You nodded.

"While I disappoint Pierce for the third time this week, why don't you get dressed and sign those papers we talked about. They're in my study."

You nodded again and made your way, sluggishly, towards the bedroom. Steve's muffled words growing lower and lower until you couldn't hear them all together.

***

"Do you consent to hereby becoming the legal guardian of one Sarah Carter-Rogers?" You mouthed out the question on the form.

You ticked the box yes and signed your name on the dotted line as you had done on countless other legal forms.

"Hey sweetheart, can you help me with my tie?" Steve walked in.

"Sure," you sat up from his desk and fastened his tie.

Steve peered over your shoulder, a proud smile creeping over his face when he realised you'd signed the papers.

"Huh," his smiled faltered ever so slightly. "You used your maiden name."

You were surprised by that, "I could have sworn-" you turned to look at the signature, and lo and behold, Steve was right. "Old habits, I guess."

"Hey," Steve brought your eyes to look into his. "Marriage has an adjustment period, and with your migraines, it's easy for your wires to get crossed. Don't worry."

He kissed your forehead affectionately before wrapping you safely in his arms.

"Now come on Mrs Rogers, Sharon's weekend is over. Let's go pick up our daughter," he said with an enthusiastic smile.

***

The Rolls-Royce pulled up into a small driveway leading up to a moderately sized townhouse. Toy's littered the lawn and an unopened newspaper was still lying on top of an unkempt shrubbery bush, dewdrops from the morning's cold air precipitated over the plastic sheet.

Steve stepped out the car, his hand held out for you as you scooched over the leather seats and took hold of his strong hand.

Out of the house burst a young blonde-haired girl no taller than your knee. Her pink backpack made rattling noises as it swayed from one side to the other with her running motions. Behind her, a tired-looking Sharon walked out of the house, her hair cropped short to the point you barely recognised her. Her cardigan pullover wrapped defensively around her thinning frame.

"Huh..." you squinted your eyes, unfamiliar with Sharon's new look.

"What is it?" Steve asked.

"Nothing, I guess I'm just used to seeing her with longer hair," you revealed.

Steve laughed inaudibly as he crouched down waiting for his daughter to crash into him.

"Sarah, honey don't run!" Sharon shouted after her.

Sarah ignored her mother's words and jumped straight into Steve's outreaching arms, "Daddy!"

"Hey, June-bug!" Steve picked her up into a spinning hug.

You watched Steve lighten up as soon as he scooped his little girl into his arms, Sarah's giggling making the morning seem warmer than it was. In the distance, you noticed Sharon stare menacing daggers at you. You flinched and deflected your gaze to the assorted toys getting soaked from the ticking sprinklers.

A throbbing sensation sent gooseflesh up the nape of your neck as a particularly sour memory returned to the forefront of your thoughts.

 Framework>Data Banks> Memories> Memories synchronised: 55%

Sharon looked worse for wear. Her eyes were puffy with dark circles making themselves at home on her face. Her hair tied up in an unkempt greasy bun. Nail edges bitten from anxiety. She stood on your apartment’s welcome mat, the look of horror pulling her mouth into an O shape as she glanced between you and Steve -a look of realisation. Steve used his large frame to shield your partially clothed body. Uneasy silence like trudging through mud. A few seconds later, the pizza delivery guy walked off the elevator and headed towards the ajar apartment door with a distraught woman staring at the occupants inside.

 You gripped the boot of the car to keep yourself steady. This memory didn't hurt as much as the others. You figured the medication was finally working.

Steve noticed your small movement and set Sarah down to rub your back in slow circles. You nodded your head to signal that you were okay. Sarah hugged your leg causing you to bend down and greet her properly.

"Hey, June-bug, how was the weekend?"

"It was good, we went to a big, big farm and saw horsies," Sarah had a hard time enunciating some of her words, making them sound incomplete.

"Wow! Horsies!" You gasped in an exaggerated tone causing Sarah's bubbly laughter to ripple out in its regular high pitch. You felt your spirits lift from that simple act.

Steve stroked Sarah's head while he spoke to you, keeping her out of earshot. "Hey, I'm gonna go talk to Sharon, tell her the paperwork’s been finalised."

“Good luck,” You blew air out of your mouth and cocked your head to the side, eyebrows rising in acknowledgement of that uneasy task. You stroked Steve's chest, "I'll strap little June-bug here into the car seat."

Steve walked off towards Sharon while you walked around the car with Sarah holding your hand.

When you fastened her into the child seat, Sarah pulled out a pine cone and handed it to you.

"Look what I found!"

“Wow! A pinecone, for me? Thank you, June-bug!”” You accepted the small pinecone. There weren’t many conifer trees nearby for at least a few miles out of the city. Sharon must have taken her far out of the city. "Huh, how far was this farm?"

Sarah's arms spread far apart as she sing-songed, "Faaaaaaaaar."

Without thinking, you pocketed the pinecone and glanced out the tinted window to look for Steve. He and Sharon were having a heated discussion, but they both tried to make everything appear normal.

Sarah glanced over, her smile falling, "Mommy and daddy fighting again."

You tapped Sarah's little button nose, "No they aren't fighting, they're just..." you glanced at Sharon. She was more animated in her gestures than before, pointing and frowning at the car. Steve held one hand up, probably in a feigned efford to calm her.

Speckles filled your vision as another memory burdened your peripheral.

Framework>Data Banks> Memories> Memories synchronised: 58%

Sharon lobbed something glass at Steve's head. He ducked as it shattered on the wall. Your throat had all but glued shut, you didn't have the nerve to get a word in. "Homewrecker!" rang through your small apartment. “Don’t act like things were fine. We haven’t been fine in a long time.” Steve words were cold. “I’m not the one who just got caught with his pants down! How old is she anyway?”

 When the pain subsided and your vision cleared, Steve was already sliding into the car. His jaw clenching but his voice soft as he turned to Sarah with a big smile, "Alright, who's ready for our day at the park?"

Sarah smiled but it wasn’t as animated as before, “Picnic!”

Steve laced his fingers into yours, the tension from his unpleasant conversation making his grip feel slightly uncomfortable. You didn’t say anything though.

***

Steve tossed a giddy Sarah up into the air a few dozen times while you laid out the picnic basket. The park had a few patrols passing through- peacekeepers were a mandatory presence since the Accords branded Shield as terrorists. A few other families were out too. You tried to get in the same fun spirit as Steve and Sarah, but something about how dishevelled Sharon looked haunted you. You began to imagine how easy everything could slip away. How easy you could end up like Sharon. Guilt clawed its way back through you.

When Steve sat down next to you, he placed a kiss on your head and noticed you didn't reciprocate with your signature smile.

"You okay?" He asked.

You kept your eyes on a trail of ants marching towards an open lunch box with grapes, "Are you happy? Despite everything we went through… everything we did?"

Steve got tense, his eyes falling on Sarah with what seemed to be shame. "I'm not going to act like it's been a fairy-tale. People rarely feel complete, especially in our world, given what we do. I was content before you came along. Sometimes being content isn’t enough, you reminded me of what was possible.”

Steve looked back at you, his face lit up as he brought your finger to his lips for a loving kiss, “And, yes, despite everything, I am happy."

You glanced down at your wedding ring, your frown up turning into a numb smile.

Steve drew you in for a proper kiss and all your worries ebbed away. His large, calloused hands sliding along your folded thighs, a guttural moan escaping his throat as you laughed at his hungry kisses.

“We’re in public, Steve...” you pretended to be embarrassed by his publicly affectionate actions, but truthfully the only time things made sense was when he kissed you.

“That’s never bothered you before,” he said with a raspy voice. Then Sarah’s laughter rippled outward from a few paces away, her form looking much smaller from this distance as she blew bubbles out of a small looped plastic wand. Steve groaned with displeasure, “But I suppose you’re right.”

You licked your lips and straightened your posture before feeding Steve a grape.

Suddenly both your cell phones beeped.

You both groaned from the impending disruption of your day off.

Steve looked at his phone and scrolled through a long docket before swearing under his breath.

"They need us back in the field," he said through a clenched jaw. He wasn't amused with the last-minute work call.

Your eyes widened when you read through your own docket, "They've managed to trace the Iron Maiden back to her hideout."

"Call the babysitter would you, I'll go get Sarah."

Steve walked over to Sarah and lifted her onto his shoulders.

You sighed, dialling the number of the babysitter, "So much for my day off."

***

The dark-tinted tactical SUV raced passed several blocks. You were suited up and fastening on your gloves. Your partner Clint sat beside you, checking the edges of his katana. He had yet to fully fasten on his arm-guards leaving the identical bullet hole scars on his palms exposed. There was also a matching sized hole drilled through the katana’s grip, some of the metal bent outward jaggedly.

Like clockwork, the memory attached to those scars rung through your head. You squinted your eyes shut for a moment.

 Framework>Data Banks> Memories> Memories synchronised: 62%

A panorama of open country raced nauseatingly across the speeding car's window. A ‘Welcome to Budapest’ sign on the highway. An ambush. The snipers nest releasing soviet made hollow-point bullets into metal car doors. Clint's sword sliced diagonally across a red-haired woman’s face. A single bullet ripping through Clint's hands that were griped on his sword for the finishing blow. A scream, a painful cry, a worried shout. You tackled your partner to the ground. The red-haired woman making a run for it. Steve throwing his shield. The metal impacting with a spine so intensely it crushed the spinal cord. Defector Maria Hill laying paralysed from the waist down. A shield emblem printed on her right jacket pocket. Clint's hands trembling as you wrap them in bandages, his face contorted in anger as he failed to move his fingers. “She better pray we never cross paths again!”

 "Hey, you good partner?" Clint placed his hand on your back, having noticed your discomfort.

"Bad week is all," you reassured him as you opened your eyes. “You ever going to repair the hilt on that? It can’t be comfortable to hold with the metal bending out like that.”

Clint chuckled and made a fist rigidly with both his hands, one at a time. When they opened up again, several of his fingers moved like iced joints. A painful sneer enlarging his nostrils.

"Are you okay?" You asked him.

Clint fastened on his gloves, "Just cramps. How's lover boy?"

"Always with the deflecting,” You shook your head. “He's… been on edge about something lately. I just feel like something's not… right."

Clint sheathed his sword and pulled his mask out from under his seat, "Maybe it's because you chose not to go on your honeymoon. He is old fashioned after all. Probably all that pent up sexual tension turning into plain tension."

Clint laughed at his jab, you punched his midrib hard.

"Shut up," You looked over the mission brief one more time and then checked your guns. "If this really is the Iron-Maiden's hideout, Romanoff might be there..."

Clint turned stiff at the mention of Natasha's name. His fist-clenching so tight it strained against his leather gloves.

"Good," he said menacingly as he fastened on his mask.

The black SUV's rolled up in an old brick house neighbourhood. You placed your comms unit in your ear and unholstered your gun.

"Look alive people, time to storm a castle."  

You and Clint exchanged a fist bump, the simple action triggered a searing pain to braze through your mind like a cheese grater. You gasped, ground your molars together and banged your head against the leather seats of the SUV. The memory wasn't clear, it was hazy like a half-forgotten dream. An image of a man with long hair, lips pulled in a reluctant smile, flickered in your mind like a loose light fixture. You couldn't see past his top lip, but the thought of him filled you with something you hadn't felt in a long time: safe.

The headache subsided almost as quickly as it came, you blinked several times.

"You good?" Clint asked once more, his serious tone lacerating through you.

You nodded, took a breath and hopped out of the car. Gun out of its holster, you took up tactical positions and stormed the old brick apartment complex in strategic waves of intimidating force. The sound of helicopter blades slicing through the air above drew your attention. Steve was seated inside, fully geared and ready to jump onto the roof.

Over the comms, you heard Clint say, "One with the least take down numbers buys the first round at McCredie’s."

"You're on!" You challenged.

“Easy there, Mrs Rogers,” Steve said cooly. “We know that if you lose this bet, you’re just gonna make me buy the round.”

“Better make sure to send all the stragglers my way then, honey.”

Clint grappled to a high floor, “Hey that’s cheating.”

The sound of Steve bursting through a window filled the comms, “No, that’s just a perk of being married to me.”

You chuckled as you fired off several shots at the enemy.

PART THREE: WHO THE FUCK IS BUCKY?

AFWHI tags: @fangirl-colo @dormousse @smallmarvel @ren-ni @sargentbucket @nikolett3 @wnygirl2012 @jentismyname @evilgeniuslabz-blog @myrabbitholetoneverland @sleepingspacedragon @500daysofbecky @reidreader  

Permatags: @gruffle1 @thechickvic @notawarriorjustyet @savethehoneeybees

tags:@ladybugsfanfics

[aurora-the-kunoichi]

Heyo so I was curious what are your head cannons on the boys when they find out from the reader they’re gonna be dads?

Not sure if these are considered head cannons since they’re little stories about how they would react. But here you go doll! Thanks for the ask, got a little carried away. 

Leonardo:Needless to say, you were a little scared. Leonardo’s persona was all aboutorder, strategy and planning and an unplanned baby would throw his world into atail spin of chaos. You had thought there was no chance of you getting pregnantdue to the species difference, so no safety measures were put in place. Boywere you both wrong.

Your hands trembled when you held out the positive pregnancystick to the leader in blue. It took him a minute to realize what you wereholding. His gaze held a confused look as he stared down at the little whitestick in your fingers but then realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Youcould have sworn you saw his whole body jump when his mind caught up with hiseyes. His mouth fell open and his eyes moved from you to the stick to yourbelly. Back and forth they moved trying to wrap his mind around what washappening.

You waited for the anger, for the ‘I don’t have time for ababy’ but that never came. The mindless stupor that he wore on his face shiftedquickly into a brilliant half crazed smile. His hands reached out for yourstomach shaking on their own accord. Slowly he pressed his warm palms to theslight bump that had already begun to form of your unborn child, stepping intoyour personal space.

“Are you serious?” he asked breathlessly returning hiselated gaze back up to you.

He was happy? Man, with a plan Leonardo was happy he wasgoing to be a dad. You felt your nerves melt and nodded letting out the breathyou had been holding.

“I’m gonna be a dad? Daddy? Father?!” Deep from within hischest he let out a profound rumbling laughter scooping you up in his armsswinging you around. His lips peppered kissed on your cheeks and lips as hecontinued to laugh uncontrollably before setting you carefully back down on theground. As your feet hit the ground his knees did the same and his hands liftedyour shirt exposing your midriff. Pressing forward his lips met your stomachplacing wild and warm kisses to your skin.

His lips still hovering over your stomach he began to speaksoftly to the growing body within you, “I’m your daddy. I love you and yourmommy so much. I can’t wait to meet you.” He looked lovely back up to you andtears, you could see tears in his eyes. Leo was crying he was so happy. Thenthe blue orbs widened again. “Father! We need to go tell father!” Jumping tohis feet once again he grabbed your hand and guided you to Splinter, he wantedto tell him he was going to be a grandfather.

Raphael: The red brute was working outfeverishly, bench pressing an ungodly amount of weight.  You needed to talk to him, this was tooimportant to let sit idle any longer. So, you made your way up to the weightroom to the sweatie mutant. Reaching the platform you stopped in your tracksmomentarily distracted by the bulging muscles of his arms as he strained tolift the overloaded bar in his hands. Calm down, that’s how you got into thismess. Behind your back you held the white pregnancy stick with the bright bluewords ‘pregnant’ on the indicator screen. You were carrying his baby, your lovemaking had produced a miracle and you were beyond thrilled to tell the musclebound turtle.

“Raph?” you called stepping into his line of vision justbefore his green face. Hefting up the bar again he grunted with the immenseweight, but you caught his nostrils flaring, scenting the air. His gaze shiftedto you and then his pupils dilated while the heavy bar slammed down on the racksafely.

“Yeah short stack?” his voice was a bit strained like he wasnervous about something? As he lifted himself into a sitting position herefused to make eye contact again. You could tell the difference in hisbreathing now as his large green fingers fiddled with the wrapping on hisfingers. What was going through his mind? You were the one about to change bothyour worlds and he was acting funny?

Sitting down next to him you rested your hand on his thicklymuscled thigh squeezing lightly. “Hey big guy, what’s wrong?”

“You’re gonna tell me now aren’t ya?”

Taken back by the weird question you cock your headclutching the stick a little tighter to your side. Did he know and if he did, thedepressed tone in his voice made the excitement you were feeling unwarranted?But how could he know, you yourself had just found out an hour ago via thispiss test. “Tell you what Raph?”

“That your pregnant and you want to abort it because of whatwe would make together.”

Suddenly you felt like you had just been punched in the gutand your lungs sucked in a large gulp of air. He knew and thought you wanted toend the pregnancy?! On instinct you wound up your fist and hit him in arm ashard as you could.

“What the fuck Raph?! What the actual fuck? How did youknow? I just found out an hour ago.” You growled throwing the stick in his lap,his fast fingers catching it with ease. “And you honestly think I would want toterminate our child?” Hot tears started to roll down your cheeks, how could hehonestly think that? You were beyond ecstatic about having his baby.

Rubbing his arm, he turned to you quickly seeing thedistress in your face and the tears wetting your cheeks. Both hands shot toyour face cupping it while pulling your flustered gaze to him. You now couldsee the tears brimming in his. “You just found out!? I-I could smell the changein your body three weeks ago, and since then you’ve been acting strange. I wasafraid you didn’t want to tell me and from how angry you’ve been the past fewdays you wanted to end it.”

“God no Raph, I want to have your baby. I was so happy whenI found out and rushed over here as soon as I was done with work! And Iapologies for the mood swings, I’m guessing it’s my hormones out of whack fromthe pregnancy. Nothing would make me happier to have baby with you.”

Relief rolled over his face as he gathered you in his arms,“Oh thank god! We had no idea how happy I am? We thought we could never befathers and you just gave me the best gift anyone could give a mutant turtle!I’m going to be a dad!” Reaching down to your stomach he rested his warm palmto your belly humming in approval. “No let’s go rub it in Leo’s face that I’m adad before him.”

Donatello: Donatello,your tall purple terrapin was busy as usual in his lab taking apart somethingcomplicated. Several computer parts and circuit boards lay just before hisfingers awaiting their new intended purpose. Donnie was so enthralled in hiswork he didn’t even notice you come up behind him. Your back pocket heldsomething very important and you were ready to share the results of ‘your’ mostrecent study. Your hands moved around his large shell and pressed into thedense corded muscled of his sides. When he yelped in surprise letting themother board in his hand clatter to the table you knew he was aware of you now.Running your fingers up towards his arms your fingernails dragged gently overhis green pebbled skin. You smiled feeling the genius shudder against yourtouch.

“What do I owe this pleasant distraction to?” he croonedsoftly turning around to meet you. His goggles sat over his brown eyes keepingthem from your sight and that wouldn’t do, not with what you two needed todiscuss. Carefully you reached up and pulled them up to rest on his forehead.There they were, those sweet chocolate brown pools of knowledge. You had nodoubt in your mind he would be a pro, Donnie would a natural dad. So much knowledgeand experience to pass down to his children.

Keeping your movements as fluid as possible you pulled thewhite pregnancy stick out of your back pocket and crawled into the genius’slap. Pressing your lips to his eagerly to distract him you sat the stick nextto a few of his tools for your little plan to take place.  

The deep rumble of approval coming from the tall turtle madeyour body hum, but this was not the time for such pleasantries. Releasing his lips,you gave him a toothy smile and nibbled again on his bottom lip.

“I was hoping you could help me with some results I just gotback from something we’ve both been working very Hard on?” you emphasized the Hon hard rolling your hips into his groin.

“Results? On what?” he mused placing his hands on your hipsto guide your languid movements.

You could feel him under you responding and felt your cheeksblush when his eyes closed letting a churr roll out past his lips. Swallowingyour growing lust for the moment you cleared your throat. Maybe this couldwait? Maybe until after you had your way with him, god these pregnancy hormoneswere kicking your ass. He had this way of getting you in the mood without evenrealizing he was doing it. Just a simple touch from Donnie sent your body ablaze with need and the fertility of your ovaries into overdrive as well itseemed.  

He leaned forward and pressed an impatient kiss to your lipsurging your mouth open with his warm tongue. You were getting lost in themoment and your impatient need was pushing past your plan. Your plan! No, youneeded to tell him! Gently you pushed him away ending the heated kiss with apop. His lust filled eye looked into yours disappointed rolling his hips upinto you showing he was ready for action.

“Wait a minute Don, there’s something behind you that I needyou to look at real quick, the results?” your breath was uneven and your heartwas beating wildly against your chest but you needed to go through with yourplan.

His eye ridge raised in intrigue but turned you both on hischair towards his large work table. His brown eyes scanned the many itemslittering the desk and stopped abruptly finding the one thing out of place amongsthis tools.

With a shaky head he took the small white stick in his largeover sized fingers and read the unmistakable message. “These are the resultsyou were talking about?”

You hummed in agreeance running your fingers over his neck.

“You’re…we’re pregnant? You’re carrying my unborn child inyour womb right now?” with each word running past his lips the volume andexcitement raised in his voice. His brown eyes were sparkling with unshed tearsand his whole body seemed to vibrate with his enthusiasm.

“Yes Don, you’re gonna be a daddy.”

Using his legs, he spun you both in the chair laughing withthe great news, “I’m gonna be a daddy!” pressing forward he kissed you withexcitement which soon turned back into the burning passion from before. Again,relinquishing your lips, he gave you that smile, that “I love you more thenanything’ smile.

“Looks like I better start constructing an ultrasoundmachine.” His excitement palpable Donnie used his muscled arm to shove theunimportant pieces of his forgotten project from his table. Lifting you likeyou weighted nothing he set you on the table and pressing himself between yourlegs. “Are you gonna call me daddy now? Donnie’s voice dropped an octavestaring down at you in his arms the look in his eyes pinning you to your spot.The sudden change in his voice sent a chill down your spine.

“Dirty turtle.”

Michelangelo: Mikey was elbows deep in dough when you walkedinto the lair, kneading the soft white pliable substance preparing it for the oven.The simple irony in the task he was currently preforming and the little whitestick of life changing information in your pocket made you giggle. With your presencesnow known Mikey’s gaze snapped up and gave you that beautiful big smile he wasperfect at giving.

“Sugar love!” he called lifting the ball of dough high intothe air for you to see. “I’m baking you some buns!”

You could resist and let it slip as you made your way overto the overzealous ninja turtle currently covered in white flour, “You gonnaput a bun in that oven?”

“Well more then one bun if you wanna get technical about it.But yes, I’m gonna put a bun in that oven!”

Again, you started to laugh holding your stomach in the process.You had been feeling under the weather for the past few weeks and when yourperiod never came you began to wonder. You remembered when Mikey and you startedhaving sex Donnie told you it was scientifically impossible for a human and turtleto reproduce. So, the box of condoms Mikey had gotten went right back to thestore. Neither of your thought twice about it, Donnie was a genius.

Now the little white stick taking up residency in yourpocket with the words ‘pregnant’ on it was going to be a shock to everyone downhere, especially Mikey.

“What’s so funny?” he asked returning to the kneading of hisdough.

“That’s gonna be a lot of buns in the oven, don’t you think?”you asked nonchalantly running your hands over your stomach.

Mikey stopped and turned back to you giving you a confusedlook, “This is only gonna make a little over a dozen? With four mutant turtles,a mutant rat and one human that should be just enough.”

“Two humans.” You continued waiting to see how far you couldtake this without him catching on.

“Two?” You could see the wheels turning in that sweet headof his. “Is April coming down too for dinner?”

You shook your head.

“Casey? Raph never told me he was coming down.”

“Nope.”

“Vern?”

Again, you shook your head, the smile on your lips was beingto make your mouth sore.

“I give up, who else is coming to dinner?”

Taking a few steps towards the preheating oven you leanedback against it, “The bun in the oven.”

Mikey was lost now, and the dough forgotten on the counter.His full attention was on you but was still unaware of your meaning. “Ofcourse, the buns in the oven are coming to dinner. They’re part of the dinner.”

“No Mikey, there is another bun in the oven that will be joiningus for dinner.” Reaching into your pocket you pulled out the white stick holdingout the test indicator to his baby blues eyes.

Instantly his pupils dilated, and his mouth hung wide openin shock. “What?” his feet pushed up putting all his weight on his toes as hebegan to bounce with excitement. “You’re not fooling me, are you? Please don’tbe fooling me?” you saw his eyes searching yours, hoping and pleading you weretelling the truth.

There had been many nights while lying in bed with theorange terrapin usually after a wild session of mind blowing sex he would confesshis one wish. If he ever found a magic lamp with a genie inside. Even if he wasgiven three wishes he would only take one. To be a dad, he wanted to be a fatherwith everything that he was. You had always wished Donnie was wrong and youwould be able to give him that one wish. You loved Mikey so much and having ababy with him would make everything complete and all that you would need.

“I’m not fooling you Mike, you’re gonna be daddy and you’re gonnarock that shit so hard.”

Bread forgotten Mikey dove for you wrapping his flour coveredhands around you, pressing in for a devilishly deep kiss. The enthusiasm he putinto it stole the very breath from your body. Breaking the kiss he loweredhimself to your stomach pressing his white palms to your black shirt leaving threefingered white prints.

“My name is Michelangelo and I’m your daddy. You have awonderful and beautiful loving mommy and three awesome uncles along with a hairygrandfather. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms.”