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ladyinwriting18 · 1 year ago

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The Start Of Something New (Bruce BannerxReader)

Summary: Meeting you sparks something new for Bruce AND Hulk.

Words: 5,852 Warnings: Sex on the first date, PIV, Oral sex (female receiving), Hulk is a flirt, Only sex with Bruce tho.

When Tony had handed over the username and password to a newly made dating profile, Bruce had been very confused, and honestly, a tad reluctant.

However, after being hounded by his best friend to just give it a try, he gave in. The first few swipes had gone horribly. Most women unmatched with him after the first few messages. Or worse, they knew he was in the Avengers and had some sort of weird fetish about it. That is until he matched with you. Sweet, funny, beautiful, hard-working you.

You were like a meteor that knocked him out of orbit.

Something different than anything he had experienced with other partners. Messaging back and forth in the app had quickly turned into an exchange of numbers. Texting with you had been easier because it gave Bruce time to analyze his responses, but hearing your laugh while talking on the phone? God, he was certain there was no better sound. You were so open and honest that communicating came naturally. Which wasn’t something he was used to after his failed relationship with Natasha. He pushes those thoughts from his mind and instead focuses on nervously pacing outside of the Aquarium. After a month of good morning texts and late-night phone calls—today is the day. The day the two of you would finally meet in person and go on your first real date. You two had shared coffee over Facetime a few times, but to Bruce those weren’t dates. This would decide if you’d want to continue communicating. And though you made him feel at ease whenever the two of you spoke, the thought of fucking it all up weighs heavily on him. Bruce checks his watch for the fifth time before catching sight of his reflection in the glass exterior of the building. He fixes his hair while giving himself a pep talk. “Come on, Bruce. You’ve got this. Don’t overthink it, just be yourself.” Your Uber pulls up just as he finishes his words of affirmation. He quickly straightens his back and turns to see you just as you step out of the car. You’re wearing the prettiest little sundress that sways softly in the summer breeze. He gulps. You look perfect. Jogging over to you, he holds out his hand to help you up onto the curb. “Hey!” He closes the car door behind you with a nervous smile, “T-thanks for coming. You look amazing.”

You can tell that Bruce is nervous and it warms your heart. Little does he know that you feel similar. Not only is he a brilliant scientist, but he has saved the world multiple times…what right do you have to spend time with him? You try not to let your insecurities show and squeeze his hand, not only as a comfort to him, but for you as well. “Aw Bruce, thank you. That’s so sweet of you to say.” You let yourself size him up before quirking your head to the side. “You look rather handsome.” His cheeks flush, though he tries to hide it by talking about where he’s chosen to take you for your date.

“I was glad to hear that you enjoy the aquarium.” He keeps your hand in his as he steers you towards the entrance. “I thought it would be the perfect place to bring a so-fish-ticated woman like yourself.” Bruce laughs at his own dad joke before rubbing his face in embarrassment. Tony had told him to keep the dumb jokes at a minimum. But then his ears perk up at the sound of you giggling and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Just like the first time he heard you laugh over the phone, he’s instantly put at ease, “Thank you for not clam-ming up at my terrible humor.” You giggle harder, your free hand coming up to grip his bicep. “Your humor is not terrible!” you lightly scold as you approach the first tank of colorful fish. They instantly capture your attention. “Wow, they’re all so beautiful!” Your hand on Bruce’s bicep feels so warm. He can’t stop himself from staring at your reflection in the glass—you look good together.

“Which one is your favorite?” he asks to stop himself from planning out an entire future with you. It’s too soon for that. Especially when there are so many variables that could mess things up. You tilt your head to the side, taking a moment to respond, “Hmmm, probably this one.” You point to a fish with a blend of blue and purple scales.

He nods and looks at the corresponding identification card printed next to the tank.

“Oh look here, that one is native to Wakanda. The scales are used to produce important and sustainable fertilizer for their diverse agricultural offerings.” He realizes he’s rambling, and looks to you wide-eyed. “Sorry, I tend to ramble when I get excited.” You smile and turn to face him fully. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re so smart, Bruce. I could listen to you talk for hours.” Sheepishly, he rubs the back of his neck. He can’t deny that the praise feels good but he feels undeserving. “I mean I only read what the identification card says,” he deflects with a teasing grin, hoping the joke would hide his insecurities. You cock your hip before playfully swatting at his upper arm. There’s such a fire in you. Bruce adores it. “You know what I mean, Doctor Banner. Now, show me which fish is your favorite?” Your curiosity about his interests has him lighting up. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you over to another tank. “My favorite is right over here.” Dropping your hand, he instead comes to stand behind you. With one hand on your waist and the other pointing out the fish. He hadn’t meant to tuck you so perfectly against him, but he did, and now he doesn’t ever want to move away. The smell of your shampoo and perfume mix together, leaving him totally captivated. It takes all his restraint to keep talking and not bury his face into your hair.

“That’s the puffer fish, or Tetraodontidae. They have this defense mechanism, so basically, when they are threatened, they can expand to over double their size. I guess I have a soft spot for them.”

You find yourself leaning back against his chest as you listen to his explanation. His reasoning not only makes perfect sense but shows you how insightful he can be. “I can understand why. It’s almost like you and Hulk.” You turn your head to meet his gaze. It’s only then that you both realize just how close you’ve both become. Bruce can’t help but notice that his lips are inches from yours. “Yes. It’s like me and Hulk.” His voice comes out huskier than he intends. There’s a tension building. One that’s begging to break free. All either one of you would have to do is close the last remaining inches, but before you can, Bruce’s watch beeps. It breaks the trance and has you both stepping back from one another. He checks his watch and silences the alarm. “Shoot, we have to hurry. There’s something I need to show you!” Without another word, he takes your hand and starts leading you to another part of the aquarium. There’s a bounce in his step as he walks you to the big surprise. His whole reason for picking the aquarium for your first date is because on your dating profile, you had written that your favorite animals are otters. Bruce had tucked this piece of information away until he needed it. He had painstakingly looked for an aquarium that not only had an otters exhibit but gave people the chance to pet them. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you found out. But when you both turn the corner you are instead faced with a giant sign that reads “Exhibit Closed for Renovation”. His heart drops and the blood in his veins starts to boil. He had checked the website! Had planned the entire date around this! “The website said it was going to be open!” he grits out as the hand not holding yours clenches into a fist. He feels Hulk beneath his skin, tugging to be let out. Bruce tries to suppress the feeling, but his chest begins to heave. Things have been better between them. No longer did he treat Hulk as a monster but as a part of him. Bruce made space for him in his home and life, which led to them not needing to fight one another for control. Instead, they attempted to live side by side. However, this is different. It mirrors a time when even the slightest inconvenience would trigger the Hulk. The tips of his ears and fingers prickle to a subtle shade of green. “This isn’t fair. Now everything is ruined!” He lets out a low growl and grips the hand he’s holding until you wince. You don’t have time to respond before you’re forced to rip your hand out of his grasp. That’s when you notice the color of his fingertips. Not knowing what to do to help, but not willing to abandon him, you step in front of him and cup his face. “Bruce? I need you to look at me. Nothing is ruined.” As you talk, you maneuver him backward until you’re both tucked away in a corner close to an emergency exit. You figure this is the best place for him to be if he did in fact lose control. Unfortunately, Bruce doesn’t respond. Instead, he tucks his chin to his chest and continues to breathe heavily. You say his name with a little more force, but still, nothing. He’s too preoccupied with the fury bubbling in his stomach. It causes tendrils of anger to spread through his limbs. Your words are muffled and your touch is hot. All his internal attempts to calm himself are destroyed by the deep seeded anger and self-loathing.

“This always happens. I can’t do anything right. Everything is ruined.” You’re more panicked now, it’s evident in your tone. “Forget about the otters! I don’t care. Please, Bruce, I’m just happy to be here with you!” What do you do? How do you break him from this spell? You needed him to focus on the good! An idea pops into your mind and before you have a chance to think it over…you do it. You grip his face, jerking it towards you, and kiss him—hard on the mouth. Your arms encircle his neck, putting your all into the kiss and trembling slightly. All you can do is pray your plan works and he kisses you back. For Bruce, his world stops spinning and time stands still. The kiss is enough to bring him back to the present. His heart rate settles and his skin tone reverts to normal, but his eyes are shut tight. He can’t kiss you back, not like this. Not when you were only kissing him for your safety. So he gently pushes you away. “T-Thank you…for that but I’m…I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to…do that just to shut me up.” His words confuse you and you speak over him before he can continue, “I didn’t do it to shut you up! I did it because I wanted to and because I thought giving you something happy to think about would help.” You lose your nerve, faltering momentarily. “I…I’m sorry if I was wrong. I shouldn’t have kissed you without your consent.” Bruce’s brow furrows and he finally meets your gaze again. “Wait, you wanted to kiss me?” You nod in earnest and he smiles. He brings his hand to cup your cheek. “You were so brave and strong. I can’t thank you enough for being here for me.” You relax into his touch, letting your face rest in his palm. You’re so beautiful and sweet. It makes Bruce long for things he hasn’t allowed himself to want. “I’m also sorry for assuming you were kissing me out of pity. I guess I just couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to kiss…that.” He motions behind him, to where the Hulk had almost been standing.

You tilt your head to the side, giving him a questionable look. “The Hulk is just a part of you. I know you’re used to people being afraid of him, but I’m not. I would kiss you, him, and anything else in between.” His cheeks twinge pink. Someone kissing Hulk? That wasn’t something Bruce could even fathom, but the feeling of his pulse skipping a beat tells him that his green counterpart is excited by the offer. Nervously, he chuckles at the realization. “W-Why don’t we take things one step at a time?” He says this not only to you but to appease Hulk into calming down. You take his hand and nod in agreement. The touch sends tingles from his palm and up his arm, making him feel bold. “Can I…I mean, may I kiss you? For real this time?” You nod with a smile and Bruce closes the distance between you. The kiss is soft and chaste but he can still taste the sweetness of your mouth. He hums at the taste but pulls away before he loses himself. “There’s one more thing I wanted to show you.” He extends his hand to you. “Come with me?” You take it and let him lead you to the back of the aquarium. He leads you past countless tanks of exotic fish until you come to a dark room. So dark that it’s almost pitch black, but quickly your eyes adjust, revealing tanks filled with various-sized jellyfish. You gasp at how delicate they are, their subtle glow showing their translucence. Their bodies pushing and pulling them through the water in an almost intricate dance.

“Did you know that jellyfish are the world's oldest animal?” You shake your head ‘no’, transfixed on the tanks before you but soaking in his words like a sponge. “Scientists have found fossils indicating they preceded dinosaurs. I think they're magical.” You’re alone in this small dark space, and Bruce steps closer to whisper into your ear. “I think you’re pretty magical too.”

You gasp and turn towards him, whispering his name just before he captures your lips in another kiss. He’s more confident now, pulling you closer by your waist and gripping your hips tightly. You make out like teenagers, anxious and hungry for more. He whimpers at how good you feel and you can’t help but shudder against him in response. Your hands slide up to wrap around his broad shoulders. You feel safe in his arms so you push your body flush against him. He responds in turn, opening his mouth so that your tongues can touch. You’re so turned on that you’re certain you’ll combust, but he breaks the kiss. He’s breathing hard, clearly attempting to calm his heart rate. You give him space to do so and instead lace your fingers with his. He smiles his thanks before speaking. “How about on the way out, we take you to the gift shop so I can buy you a stuffed otter to make up for not being able to see the real ones?” You nod in excitement until it clicks that the date will be ending soon. “I would love that, but…what if after, I didn’t want to go home? What if I wanted to go home with you?” It takes Bruce a few moments to process exactly what you’re asking, but once it does his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Yes! Uh…I mean, I would be honored.” The gift shop, walking to his car, and the drive to his home go by in a blur. One minute, you were asking him to take you home, and the next, you were holding a stuffed otter in your lap as he opened the car door for you.

You smile at the gesture, letting him help you out of his car, and walking up the front steps to his home. Little do you know, Bruce is holding his breath in hopes that he hadn’t left his home a mess before leaving. He sighs in relief after unlocking the door and seeing that the house is relatively clean. You step forward, taking in your surroundings, but his eyes are taking in your body. He imagines taking you to his bed and undressing you slowly. You move about his home, having no idea he was undressing you with his eyes. “You have a lovely home, Bruce. Most guy’s homes are…well…gross.” You giggle to yourself before placing your otter on the couch. He says your name in a way that make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. It sounds hot…needy…sexual. You turn to him, and like the opposite ends of two magnets, you’re pulled together–crashing into each other. No longer able to resist, your hands grope and mouths meet. You want to beg for more but he’s already hoisting you up by the waist and carrying you down the hall. You don’t know where he’s taking you, and frankly, you don’t care as long as he keeps kissing you.

He stumbles while pushing open his bedroom door with his foot, but quickly regains his stride over to his bed so he can carefully lay you down. Your hair fans out along his pillows and he sighs. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

Hearing him curse has you biting your bottom lip. You grip his shirt and tug him towards you until he’s leaning over you. “I want you, Bruce. I’ve wanted you since the first time we talked on the phone.” He nearly chokes at your confession because he’s certain he had made an utter fool of himself on that phone call. “Please…” Your plea breaks him from his thoughts as your fingers start working on unbuttoning his shirt. “Please don’t make me wait anymore.” Shit. Shit. Shit. This was happening. This was really about to happen. Bruce’s cock jumps within the confines of his pants. “I won’t, Princess. I won’t make you wait.” His words are rushed, breathless as trembling fingers work on unzipping your sundress. “I’ve been wanting you too.” You’re both rushing to get one another naked now. His shirt. Your dress. His pants. Your bra. His cock is freed from his boxers and Bruce sighs with relief. You blush at the sight of how hard and thick he is. It would fill you up so perfectly. He looks at you with the same amount of desire in his gaze. Your nipples harden under that gaze, causing his cock to throb. And then he’s on you, crawling over your body so he can cage you beneath him. He can’t help himself from kissing his way down your chest and stomach, pausing only when he gets to the waistband of your lace panties. “May I?”

He doesn’t need to ask, but the fact that he does warms your heart. You nod, giving your consent, and he hooks two fingers under the lace. You lift your hips, making it easier for your panties to be pulled down your legs. Once free of them, you let your legs fall away to reveal your cunt to him. You blush, knowing you’re already wet with slick. “Your kisses have been making me wet all afternoon,” you whisper, embarrassed. Bruce perks up at this information, letting a finger trace along your folds. “Wow, really? All afternoon?” You nod, your face feeling hot. “I love that you’re this wet for me.” He turns his head so he can leave kisses along your inner thigh. “I want to taste,” he groans, hungry for it. So hungry that he dives his face between your thighs, licking from your slit to your clit. He moans as the taste and scent of your cunt fill his senses. You moan at the feeling of his tongue alternating between licking your clit and slipping his tongue inside. Each time, your inner walls clench around the muscles of his tongue. “Oh God, y-you’re so good with your mouth!” you pant, starting to buck your hips. Lewdly, he devours your wetness, grunting against your flesh. His arms wrap around your thighs and pull you forward so your cunt is smashed against his face. He turns his focus on your clit, eagerly sucking on it. He’s so turned on by the noises you’re making and the taste on his tongue that he can’t stop himself from rutting into the mattress to get some relief. “I want you to cum on my face,” he declares suddenly, as if the idea just popped into his head and he couldn’t stop himself from saying it out loud. “Can you do that for me?” You find that you can only nod as the pleasure steadily builds throughout your limbs. “Here, let me try this,” he says as he slips his middle finger into your awaiting hole. Instantly, you grind down on it, crying out his name when he starts fingering you harder. His mouth returns to your clit, swirling his tongue over it to drive you closer and closer to the edge. And damn are you close to that edge. You scream for him, tell him how good he’s making you feel. He doesn’t let up, and without warning, your back is arching off the bed as you cum all over his face, just like he wanted you to. He works you through your aftershocks, licking up every drop of cum that spills out of you until your body slumps back onto the bed. It’s only then that he eases his finger out and sits back on his knees. “That…was incredible,” he pants with a light chuckle and then leans over you once more to leave a kiss on your temple. “Thank you for that, Princess.” You practically purr at the nickname. Usually, names like that give you the ick, but Bruce saying it gives you butterflies. “I love it when you call me that. I like being your Princess.” You hook a leg around his waist, beckoning him closer so his cock is nestled against the cleft of your cunt. He whimpers, grinding his erection against you. He wants to be inside you, wants to fuck you hard and deep, but he needs to slow down. “W-Wait, wait,” he pleads, holding your hips firm in an attempt to keep you both in place. “We…We need to talk first.” Something about his tone gives you pause. “What’s the matter?”you ask, giving him your full attention. Bruce worries at his bottom lip, wanting to say the right thing. “I don’t want to scare you but…sometimes…uh, when I cum, I turn a little…green.” A blush works its way up from his neck. “If you catch my drift.” You sit up, more intrigued than afraid, but the man before you misunderstands and continues on nervously. “You have n-nothing to worry about, I promise you. I would never let anything happen to you.” You silence him by pressing a finger to his lips. “I’m not afraid. Not of you or of him. I want to make you cum.” Your hand drops, replacing it with your lips, whispering against his mouth. “I want to make you both cum.”

Your acceptance of him and his other half stirs an animalistic lust from deep within him. When he moves on top of you, it feels as if it’s in tandem with Hulk. They had never moved as one before. Had never wanted the same thing so completely as they do now.

Bruce kisses you roughly, tongues rolling along one another while their bodies grind. He aligns his cock with your opening, moaning in between your kisses. “Is that what the sweet girl wants? To make us cum so hard that we turn for you?” His voice is deeper, with pupils blown wide with lust. His words have your heart racing, and although this is your first time in Bruce’s bed…something tells you it’s both he and Hulk who would be fucking you tonight. You push your forehead against his and nod eagerly. If he was going to speak, it’s cut off by the growl that bubbles up from his throat. He’s completely overtaken by his feral alter ego, and in one fell swoop, sheathes his cock fully inside of you. You yelp, tensing at the sudden intrusion, but damn does he fill you up. However, the sound seems to bring Bruce back into himself. “S-Shit, I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

You feel him starting to pull out of your heat. “Don’t!” you cry, wrapping your legs around him to keep him in place. “D-Don’t stop, Bruce. You feel so good. Please don’t stop.”

He nods, relieved that he hasn’t hurt you, and starts rolling his hips. “Mmhh, you feel good too. So tight.” But his slow pace doesn’t last long. His hands push your legs away, giving him space to pull out and then slam back in. You both throw your heads back, swearing loudly at the first deep thrust. Your walls had clenched so perfectly around his length so he pulls out and does it again. The drag of his thick cock along your walls is making you gush. You scream his name and claw at his back. You can’t seem to focus on anything but the hard pounding rhythm of his cock. Bruce bows his head and starts kissing, biting and sucking at your breasts. He does so as passionately as he had eaten your cunt, making you wonder if he has a slight oral fixation when it comes to sex. Not that you mind. You’ll wear the marks he’s leaving on your breasts with pride.

A hand reaches between your legs to find your clit and rub firm circles on it. You arch into his touch and thrusts, trying to meet both. It causes a wet slapping noise to fill the room as he ruts into you.

Every thrust brings a flush of green across Bruce’s broad back. But he can’t cum. Can’t turn.

He needs to make you cum and he needs to keep you safe. But his control is slipping the closer his orgasm becomes. “A-Am I making you feel good, Princess?” You don’t hesitate to moan your reply in between desperate pants, “Yes, fuck yes! G-Getting close. More Bruce. Fuck m-me more, make me cum!” Any momentary self-consciousness fades at the sight of you falling apart. He gives you exactly what you need and cracks his hips faster, harder, rougher, while keeping firm pressure on your clit. It has your muscles tightening, that feeling of sweet release just within reach. His movements become sloppy, unable to keep away his own orgasm for much longer. But you’re too close to cumming to notice or care. “Cum for me, Princess. I…I need you to cum with me.” His words are all you need to come crashing over the edge. Your orgasm rocks you to your core, the entire time chanting his name like he’s your own personal God. Your inner walls pulse around every throbbing inch of his cock, coaxing him to reach his own peak.

His back contorts and green flashes down his arms and legs as he cums, filling you with it as he screams, sounding more monster than man. Was he about to…turn?

You don’t have time to react, because as quickly as it started, Bruce collapses on top of you. You’re honestly too stunned to react but the sound of a whimper breaks you from it. “Bruce?” Your arms come around him so you can stroke his back and hair. “Are you alright?”

It takes him a few minutes of heavy breathing before he’s able to lift his head.” I-I’m okay. Could we just…lay here for a little while?” He sounds exhausted and lost. It tugs at your heartstrings. “Of course, for as long as you need,” you whisper, allowing your fingers to delicately trace over the lines of his back. For a long while, you lay together with his cock still nestled inside you. Not that you mind, it feels right being close to him. When he’s ready, Bruce slowly props himself up and slips out of you before looking you in the eye. He sheepishly thanks you, looking rather flustered. “I’m uh…sorry if I scared you earlier…you just felt so good and he…” Bruce trails off, clearly too embarrassed to continue, so you sit up and cup his cheek so he looks at you. “You have nothing to apologize for. You made me cum so hard. I’d let you fuck me over and over again if you wanted to.” He visibly perks up at that and can’t stop the boyish grin from spreading across his features. You grin back. “I guess I made him feel good too…if he was fighting to break out.” He takes a calming breath and runs a hand through his hair. “He uh…still does.”

“Really??” You sound shocked but intrigued. “Do you…uh want to let him out? I wouldn’t mind meeting him.” Bruce hesitates, not knowing if letting Hulk out is a good idea, but then he looks back at you. His eyes roam over your beautiful naked body that is now sitting back against the headboard.

An image of you relaxing in his bed every morning from now until the end of time flashes through his mind. But it isn’t just his fantasy…it’s Hulk’s. “Well…he does think you’re pretty.” “Really? He told you that?” You blush, biting your bottom lip, and Bruce can’t help but chuckle at how adorable you look. “It’s more like a feeling, but yes, in a way.” You nod in understanding and wait for his final say on the matter. “Okay, you and Hulk can meet,” he agrees, and you happily squeal. “I’ll see you in the morning?” “In the morning,” you repeat, and Bruce leans in to give you another kiss before standing. He makes his way over to his dresser and pulls out a clean pair of boxers that are enhanced to stretch to Hulk’s size. “Now, if anything goes wrong, don’t hesitate to use my phone and call Tony,” he says over his shoulder while slipping the boxers on. “Call Tony, got it! But everything will be fine,” you reassure as you reach over the side of the bed to grab your underwear, and Bruce’s discarded shirt and put them on. When you look back at him, he’s facing away from you with his back rounded. He groans as loudly as he did when he came but is undoubtedly pained. Green muscles ripple out from his spine, up his neck, and down his limbs. You watch amazed as he doubles in size right before your eyes. He sways for a moment before gaining his footing and turning around to face you. Your breath catches in your throat at the realization that the famous Hulk is standing in front of you. “H-Hi there. I’m–”

“HULK KNOWS.” His deep booming voice cuts you off. “You do?” Hulk nods. “YOU’RE PRETTY LADY.” The pet name makes you giggle and move closer to him but still remain perched on the edge of the bed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Your eyes roam over him, wondering what being held in his arms would feel like. “Is…Is this where you sleep too? Or do you have your own room?” You use the questions as a way to distract your mind from thinking about his touch. He scrunches his green nose up in distaste, “BANNER’S MATTRESS TOO LUMPY. HULK HAS BIGGER BED.” He points down the hall to where the home’s second bedroom is. “PRETTY LADY WANT TO SEE HULK’S ROOM?”

“I would love that.” You smile and he holds out his hand for you to take. You do so, and with more gentleness than should have been capable of someone his size, he helps you out of bed and leads you to his room. However, the entire way, your eyes stayed glued on Hulk–memorizing and taking in the parts of him that were still innately Bruce. With your tiny hand in his massive one, he steps inside his bedroom, no longer needing to crouch down because the ceiling is higher now. The walls are covered with photos and newspaper clippings of the Avengers and their families. You smile, it’s endearing to see that he has a soft side. Hulk flops down on the extra-large mattress with a smirk, stealing your attention away from the photographs. “HULK’S ROOM BETTER. BED SOFTER AND BETTER FOR SNUGGLES.” He pats the spot next to him on the bed, silently inviting you over. You raise a brow in his direction.

You couldn’t believe it…he was flirting with you. Boldly flirting with you at that! As if he already knew he had you right where he wanted… Those green eyes look at you like the alpha of a pack, ready to lay beside his mate. Maybe Hulk wasn’t just Bruce’s rage personified but also his self-confidence with the opposite sex. Not having an answer, you decide to climb up and join him on the bed. If he wants to be a flirt, then so would you. You lay down beside him so you can rest your head on his rather huge bicep. “Mmhm, you’re right…much more comfortable.” You smirk up at him. Seeing the smug look on your face has him laughing, his frame rumbles with it. “PRETTY LADY LIKE HULK’S ARMS BETTER! BANNER WILL BE JEALOUS.”

You shake your head at his silliness. “I love both of your arms,” you lightly scold until you yawn without warning. “Shoot, sorry about that. I guess I’m more tired than I realized.”

Hulk shakes his head at your apology and lightly pats your head. “NO SORRY. PRETTY LADY SLEEP NOW.”

You nod, suddenly finding it difficult to stay awake. He pulls you in, letting you fully nestle against him.

“BANNER SAYS PRETTY LADY LIKES HAIR PLAYED WITH.”

At first, his words confuse you, but then you remember one late-night phone conversation when you told Bruce that having your hair played with always puts you right to sleep.

You smile at the memory, confirming Hulk’s words, and his fingers find their way into your hair. He gently strokes and pets, leaving you nearly purring.

Hulk chuckles under his breath but doesn’t stop the movement of his fingers. “PRETTY LADY SOUNDS LIKE KITTEN.”

“I guess that makes me Hulk’s kitten,” you mumble, trying to stifle another yawn.

“HULK’S KITTEN,” he repeats softly in agreement. “CLOSE YOUR EYES, KITTEN. HULK KEEP YOU SAFE FOR BANNER.”

Your half-lidded eyes finally fall shut.

It only takes another moment and you’re asleep.

Hulk watches you, not wanting sleep to overtake him, but it isn’t easy when he feels so relaxed with you in his arms. Eventually, exhaustion seeps in, winning him over. But just before he fully subcomes to sleep, both Hulk and Bruce share the same thought.

This would be the start of something new.

#lady in writing #bruce banner #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x you #incredible hulk #hulk x reader #bruce banner smut #mark ruffalo #bruce banner fanfiction

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unholyhelbig · 9 months ago

Note

fuck yes wandanat!!!

Center picture Cred: Jadiakallisti

Title: The Beast You've Made of Me [Part 1/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Wordcount: 3977

Summary: When reader wakes up in her own grave, she's suddenly aware of a past that spans lifetimes, but she's not the only one. Two Avengers are tasked with keeping readers past a secret, or at the very least, controlled.

Warnings: Being buried alive, claustrophobia, guns, general violence, cold leftovers and horrible grammar.

[a/n: Let me know if anyone wants to join the taglist! I should be able to post every week to bi-weekly depending on some travel! This is setting some things up, but I promise it gets better.]

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The weight of dirt was beginning to make the lid of the state provided casket buckle. It wasn’t very sturdy despite its drastic price that the government contemplated paying. It would have been easier to cremate, send you into the afterlife with the kiss of fire white-hot enough to melt bone. But your will had been specific, not necessarily written by you, but detailing that you must be buried, nonetheless.

No state representative wanted to have the ghost of a twenty-something paralegal on their hands. Though most were Roman Catholic and believed whole-heartedly that once a candle was lit in recognition a spirit couldn’t possibly seek vengeance. Still, they respected your wishes.

No, not your wishes. You were too young to even think of a will, or any specifications that would result in your burial. You still swallowed two cans of candle-flavored alcoholic seltzer with your sad dinner of microwaveable lasagna. You hadn’t made a habit of signing legal documents between sloppy bites and buzzed naps in the sun.

Which begged the question of why you were in a casket in the first place, and why dirt was starting to sprinkle down from the creaking wood above. Doctors made mistakes, but burying you alive? Well- shit, that was less of a mistake and more of a deliberate ignorance.

Your body was stiff, cold and unwelcoming to the life that suddenly thrummed through you. Maybe you had been dead. Nothing two full bottles of Advil couldn’t ebb out of you. Your fingertips pushed against the fabric lining, testing the validity of the box you were in.

This was all somehow extremely familiar; the darkness that swam around you, the putrid scent of your own breath after being beneath the earth for God knows how long. You could taste the film on your teeth and almost craved a toothbrush more than you did freedom. Almost.

Despite the pain in your calves, you situated yourself to where your feet pressed against the lid. With just a little leverage maybe you could push hard enough to free yourself. There was a rhythmic shoveling above; so you weren’t completely packed in yet.

Suddenly, very thankful for the yoga classes Jennifer was making you take, you maneuvered until you got enough strength to push. For a few agonizing moments, nothing budged except your spine. Fuck, fuck, fuck. A few more breaths and a harder push and the latches on the outside of the casket seemed to give way to the pressure with a small pop. You could taste dirt, feel it in your eyes.

Another brisk shove and the lid flung off it’s hinges, crashing loudly against the meticulously carved grave. You winced at the cold soil that suddenly surrounded you. Worms squirmed against your skin and that was enough for you to sit up with gusto, holding back a stomach full of vomit. Formaldehyde? It tasted terrible, either way.

You shivered and dusted yourself off. It was either early morning or just before dusk. You couldn’t tell but the electric blue sky had just started to fade to orange. You wouldn’t have been able to handle the sun being in full force, barely blinking away the color of the world, much brighter than the dark box you’d dismantled.

And boy, did you dismantle it. You’d only intended to push it up, free yourself, but the cheap wood had splintered and crumbled under just a little force. You stood in the wreckage and peered up at the company you had obtained.

“What the fuck?!”

It was a man who looked younger than you in his fear. He held a shovel in his hands, hugging it close to his chest. His mouth was slightly opened and his deep brown eyes were widened in fear and shock. The knees of his dark blue jumpsuit were stained with dirt and water.

“Can you give me a boost?” You croaked.

“A boost… I, fuck, I shouldn’t’ have taken this job.”

“You can quit after you help me out of this hole.” You shivered, looking down at the dirt below your feet. You swore you saw it pulse like a heartbeat. Too many worms, maybe even a few spiders. You’d never been too fond of bugs. You reached your caked hand up. “Please.”

He made a small noise in the back of his throat. “I don’t want to be patient zero.”

“Do I look like a zombie to you?”

“A little,”

“Now I’m offended and freezing my ass off.”

He regarded you, probably checking for a nasty festering bite, yellowing skin and any general signs of reanimation. When he didn’t find any, he reached a shaking hand down to you. Both of you struggled and strained until you found the perfect hold on the side of the grave. God- you were never so happy to touch grass.

You panted and stared up at the sky, stars were starting to pockmark the navy blue. It was, in fact, night. The metal tip of a shovel was pointed towards your neck. “Aw, come on, I thought we bonded there.”

“I’m talking to a corpse, we are not bonding.”

“Where are we?” You ignored his pointed stare and tilted yourself up on your elbows. A cemetery was the easy answer. But you wanted to know which one. There were at least 1,700 in the state of New York alone, and they all looked deceivingly the same. “Do I have to take a cab to Manhattan?”

“Uh, you’re in White Plains. Mount Calvary cemetery. I’m- I’m sorry, is this not freaking you out at all?”

You frowned, patting the pockets of a pair of jeans (why the hell would they bury you in jeans, they were the worst). In a long exhale you said. “Shit. I think worms ate my cash.”

It was a longshot to even think that your phone would be in your pocket. It wasn’t. But that left you stranded almost an hour, by car, outside of the city. It would be morning by the time you made it back and that was if no-one pulled up to the side of the road and tried their luck.

You did the only thing you can think of and peered up at this stranger with watery, wide eyes. It wasn’t a move you pulled often, meaning it still worked on Jennifer, on your mother and your father. This was a last resort and you were certainly willing to use it to your advantage.

“What? No.” He shook his head “No! No! Absolutely not. You just dug yourself out of a grave I fucking refuse-“

His name was Austin and he drove a 2002 Ford that needed to warm up for a few minutes before he even considered pulling out of the gravel drive. He was pressed as far as possible away from you and that didn’t exactly boost your confidence, but honestly, truthfully, you would take what you could get at this point.

Austin asked if you were freaking out, and you were. Everything was patchy and black in some places. You couldn’t remember how you’d ended up in a casket. It was clearly a situation that irked you for more than one reason. The forefront of which; no one had attended your funeral.

You weren’t even from White Plains. You’d known from your day job that this place had more than one government funded cemetery. So, most likely, you were given a half-rate priest with liquor on his breath and a funeral director that may have taken the twenty from your pocket, not the worms.

Your stomach clenched as Austin began to drive. He was tapping his fingers against the steering wheel nervously, and could you blame him? A corpse was in his passenger seat. Though, you felt alive enough.

“What’s your name?” He eventually asked, flicking on his high beams. You were on a long and deserted road flanked by oak trees. The occasional field passed by, the reflective quarter-sized eyes of cows blinking at the truck. “Frankenstein?”

You snorted, “Ha-ha. Frankenstein was the doctor, not the monster, you know? And I don’t remember my pitiful grave being struck by lightning.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“Perhaps.”

“Pitiful? Really? I work hard to maintain those graves.”

“I’m sure they’re lovely.” There was a rolling beat of silence. He glanced at you twice before shrugging his shoulders and leaning his chest closer to the wheel to see better. “It’s y/n. Wasn’t it written on the stone?”

Austin shook his head softly, “No, they don’t put the stone in until later. I’m supposed to spray paint a neon ‘x’ on the packed dirt, so they know what to make.”

How humiliating. You’d supposedly died, no one came to your funeral, and you were reduced to less than a quarter of spray paint. There was a system to everything, but this one made your self-importance fizzle out like a covered candle. There one moment and gone the next.

“Do you have a plan?” Austin changed the subject.

“A plan?”

“Yeah, like, are you just going to show up and say surprise, I’m alive? I’ve seen a lot of horror movies and that never goes well.”

Well, that was your plan. It was a damned good one too. There was nowhere else for you to go. While this near stranger was nice enough, you couldn’t impose on him for more than a single ride. His kind chocolate stare was telling enough. He would let you stay with him as long as it took to figure all of… this, out.

“Yeah,” You sighed out, leaning your head against the cool glass “That’s all I’ve got.”

Jennifer’s apartment building had a small box that required a code for entry. You knew the right numbers to press in the right order, they had faded away from regular use, but the door was always propped open by a cinderblock to let in the cool summer air.

If it rained hard enough, New Yorkers would take partial shelter under the awnings, and sometimes going as far as to loiter in the front lobby by the large set of mailboxes. They were the oldest and most fascinating part of the building, large and wrought iron. Allegedly, they’d survived three building fires.

Thankfully, no one but you stood in the lobby as you watched Austin’s taillights flicker out of existence. You’d have to thank him later- of course, you hadn’t gotten his number, but you knew where her work. At least where he worked up until now.

Escorting someone who had kicked their way out of their own grave back into the city was grounds for quitting, in your book.

The elevator was the second oldest thing in the building, but you somehow felt a wave of relief wash over you when the familiar warmth pressed against your skin. The mechanics jolted and hummed like an old lawn mower. All of these were comfortable.

Hunger tinged at your stomach in one fail swoop of feeling. You steadied yourself against the reflective interior of the elevator as it rose to the highest floor. Each number was signified in a loud and crude beep. You were tempted to hit the emergency stop; gaging the feeling in your abdomen.

Brains?

Yeah, the thought of them was absolutely unappetizing. Austin had gotten into your head. There was no innate need to dig your teeth into flesh and devour. In fact, you became more nauseous at the idea than before it popped into your head.

Zombies were chained to shitty horror movies you and Jennifer curled up to watch every Friday night, making fun of the gelatin that was used for wiggly guts and the cooked rice substituted for maggots. You could go for rice right now.

Knowing your best friend, she would have some sort of left-over cuisine in her fridge and you didn’t hesitate to run your fingers over the top of the doorframe to procure her hidden key, taped with a single strip of adhesive to the surrounding paneling.

Her apartment was dark save for the small tank with a one-finned goldfish named Gus. He barely regarded you, the dull buzz of his home and the pale blue light gave you all the vision you needed. Again, the familiarity of Jennifer’s apartment warmed you, comforted you. If you stopped for too long, you’d think about it all too much.

Waking up in a grave, not remember how you got there in the first place. When was the last time you’d had a meal? You’d purposefully avoided the side mirrors in Austin’s car, even the rearview was gently nudged by your dirt-caked hand. One thing at a time.

The fridge swung open with a satisfying pop and you were never more thankful for the red and white takeout containers that rested on the top shelf next to a box of wine. Neither of you ever claimed to be fancy.

You knew Jennifer’s order like the back of your hand. Sweet and sour chicken with a side of fried rice and no matter what, you would eat it cold. When the scent hit you, you even considered going forkless. If not for the slick dirt under your nails, you would have.

There was instant satisfaction in shoveling a mouthful of rice into your mouth, you barely chewed before swallowing. The neon light from the open fridge illuminated your shame and you swore that Gus, the one-finned fish, was judging you. He ate flakes for fucks sake, watching you spoon cold leftovers was the least of his worries.

You’d moved on from the rice and to the chicken before you noticed that you had company. It was a shift in the air, the feeling of being watched. But there was something more too, something like an itch on the back of your neck.

In a split second you turned from your cold meal and lifted your hand up with enough time to grip a wedge golf club that Jennifer had gotten from her father for her twenty-first birthday. They collected dust next to her coatrack, and right now, the metal edge was less than an inch away from slamming into the side of your temple.

You’d never been necessarily graceful, nor good at picking up on your surroundings. You never had to be, not with your work as a paralegal. The worst thing you had to look out for was a bad reaction to burnt office coffee.

Jenn was in an oversized Pink Floyd t-shirt and a pair of boxers, her eyes were wild, hair even wilder. A bloom of fondness wash over you despite her attempt at assault. You couldn’t blame her either, your mind so one-track on getting a meal that you hadn’t warned your best friend, not in the slightest.

“Fuck! What the fuck!” she wrenched the club away from you and moved to swing again, holding it behind her head like a baseball bat.

“Jesus Christ! Oh my God, put the wedge down!”

“You’re not-“She gulped in a cold breath of air “you died!”

“Don’t hit me with that thing and kill me again!”

Her chest was heaving up and down, fingers tightening against the rubber grip handle. Her eyes were frantic. “Did you eat my leftovers?”

You blinked at her, not sure what to say. She didn’t give you a chance to answer either, instead she sprung forward and wrapped you in a bone-crushing hug. You breathed her in, her scent of summer rain and freshly cleaned laundry. Her hair tickled your nose but you held her back, held her as if it were the last time you ever would.

Something softly broke within you, and you felt tears well up in your eyes. They slid silently down your cheeks. The fridge closed with a padded thump and plunged you both into the neon blue glow. Eventually, the club fell to the floor with a clank and her fingers fisted your shirt. You were thankful that she didn’t use her full strength.

“How is this happening?”

“I don’t know,” You rasped.

And you didn’t. Everything was so fuzzy and each time you attempted to press the subject in your mind, you felt the start of a headache at the base of your skull. For now, you were perfectly content holding your friend flush against you.

“You smell so bad,” She sobbed.

“Yeah, well, I was dead.”

Jenn pulled back and squeezed both of your shoulders, studying you longer than you had studied yourself, her breath shuddered “Maybe this is one of those Halloween things, like… like you have one night back on earth.”

You gave her a weak smile “It’s June, Jenn.”

She frowned at you, fingers pressing against your goosebump covered skin. “Sweetie, it’s October. You’ve been… gone, four months.”

But you hadn’t been buried since June. You were barely buried this evening. Your body ached from how stiff the casket had been, fingers numbed from the cold. You figured you were jarred, not in a different season altogether.

“I don’t… I don’t remember anything.”

She swallowed hard, linking her hands behind your, they rested at the base of your spine. You could tell that she was afraid to release her hold on you. Her breath was warm against your collarbone.

“You were hit by a car that blew through a redlight.”

Okay- anticlimactic. You worked alongside Jennifer at Goodman, Lieber, Kurzberg and Holliway on cases that were focused on Inhumans, superheroes and supernatural beings that had gotten themselves into legal trouble. Being taken out by a car accident wasn’t on your top-five ways to go.

“It was all very… weird. They wouldn’t’ let me see you, and at first, I thought it was because we’re not family, but they didn’t let them in either. I even pulled the attorney card, which I’m not proud of, but they refused to let us even identify you.”

She withdrew her touch and started to pace around the kitchen. It was her way of thinking, and now that she was sure that you were a solid being, she was free to move around. “Even when I got six feet tall, mean and green, they wouldn’t let me in. I was two seconds from calling Bruce.”

Jenn stopped and lifted both eyebrows at you “You look remarkable for someone who has been under the earth for months.”

“I was being buried today in White Plains. I’m assuming there was no funeral, then?”

“No… no. They had said that private arrangements had been made and it’s my guess that those were keeping you on ice until now.”

You winced at the phrasing. You were never too fond of hospitals and the blocks in your memory scared you more than anything. If what Jennifer was saying was right, then, you may not have died in that intersection. You may have been through something much, much worse.

“Sorry,” She sighed out, desensitized just as you were. “Y/n, you can’t remember anything?”

“No,” The word came out as a broken whisper.

The two of you stood in a quiet moment. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, and you held onto that feeling. It was there, you were there, pockmarked memory and all. You felt the urge to reach out and hold Jennifer again, suddenly so exhausted you didn’t’ imagine your legs holding you up much longer.

Her eyes flickered down to the center of your chest and then back up to your stare with an immeasurable amount of fear. When you gazed down at the dirt-stained shirt, you saw a red dot, quivering as if a hand was behind it’s direction. Your shoulders slumped.

“aw, fuck.”

Jennifer let out a scream as her front door was splintered open and flung with great force across the room. The two windows that overlooked the view of the city shattered as heels broke against the panes. The one singular dot had changed to seven, long-range rifles aimed at you, and you were suddenly very sad that your last meal would be cold leftover rice.

Even in the dark, you knew that they had knocked over the fishtank holding Gus, multicolored rocks and glass slid across the wooden floor. There were light gray circles against the breasts of these intruders, a bird with outstretched wings in it’s center.

Your hands went up reflexively, both you ducked behind the breakfast nook, you were close to plugging your ears, the red dots trained on the fridge now, “Oh my god, did you call SHIELD?”

“No! No, I didn’t even know you were alive three minutes ago, I was going to hit you with a golf club and call the cops, not SHIELD.”

They were assholes and tight-lipped about everything, always. It was hard to get a phone call back from them divulging information about ongoing lawsuits, but now they were in front of you, guns raised and depriving Jennifer’s fish of life.

“Gus is going to drown,” You whispered harshly back.

“He’s a fish, he can’t drown.”

“In air.”

There was obvious shifting of firearms. The Agents were all calculated and still with their movements, there wasn’t subtle noise without intent. A gruff, raspy female voice called out to you. “Come out with your hands up, y/n.”

You peaked over the breakfast bar and squinted into the darkness. Your body was not equipped for this. It was already protesting from kicking open the casket with a bought of strength. It certainly wasn’t prepared for this.

Most of the agents were in swat gear, bullet-proof vests and helmets, their faces were covered with balaclava’s, leaving only small strips of exposed skin and eyes trained on you. You hadn’t had this much attention directed at you since your fifth-grade talent show, and you figured the last time would be your funeral, but that hadn’t gone exactly to plan.

The woman who was speaking was in a tactical suit. She didn’t’ bother to cover her identity, she didn’t have to. This was the Black Widow. Natasha Romanoff. Jennifer had gotten drunk one night after a losing case and told you about her cousin having a bit of a fling with her. You’d met Bruce, and that was… unbelievable in the nicest way possible.

Her emerald eyes were trained on you, serious and hard. A tingle ripped up your spine and your stomach squirmed at her scrutiny. Maybe it was the rice and the chicken, but you felt the urge to vomit. You wanted her to say your name again, despite not understanding why she knew it in the first place.

Jennifer gripped your ankle, shaking her head ‘no’ vigorously. Really, you should trust your lawyer friend.

The Black widow let out a sigh, the tip of her handgun pointed to the ground. “You can either come out, or I’ll blow a hole through your chest. Your choice.”

Your gaze flashed down to Jenn and she seemed to have changed her mind within a second, nodding with caution. “Okay, okay.”

Once you were at full height, the room bustled in movement. Your eyes remained on the Black Widow, and hers on yours. Your mouth felt dry, the tip of her gun pushing against your ribs before she flipped you and bent you over the granite counter. Jennifer was using her heels to scoot back to the fridge, trying to avoid the agents swarming around.

Metal cuffs were slapped against your wrists. The Black Widow was pressed flush against you, her warmth dominating. She grasped the back of your shirt and pulled you up. You were, for a fleeting moment, at her mercy. Her fingers searched your pockets, padded down your sides. Once she figured you clean, she holstered her weapon. “Y/n Y/l/n,” she husked in your ear. You suppressed a shiver, knowing she’d feel any move you made right now. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

Taglist: No one yet :(

#natasha romanov #Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov x reader #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Wanda Maximoff #Wanda Maximoff x reader #Black widow #Black widow x reader #Scarlet witch #Scarlet witch x reader #Wandanat #Wandanat x reader #Marvel #Jennifer walters #She-hulk

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cece693 · 1 month ago

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tony stark x male reader who’s kinda shy and quiet but crazy good at math and science and all those equations. something fluffy and cute thank youuuuuuu

Brilliant (Tony Stark x M! Reader)

Announcement: for those who have been following my Velvet Ring trilogy fic, I've created an AO3 account where I intend to flesh out the story. Here's the link! Also, since I'm not smart myself, I didn't go in-depth about science and calculations, so forgive me :(

Tony Stark was many things: a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist—but being in a committed relationship? That wasn’t exactly the headline he wanted plastered all over the news. Not because he was ashamed—far from it—but because Tony had learned the hard way that the world had a way of ruining what mattered most. And you? You mattered more than anything.

You were everything Tony wasn’t—quiet, thoughtful, reserved. While Tony thrived in the spotlight, you thrived in the solace of your work, diving deep into equations and theories that would leave most people with a headache. You were a prodigy in your own right, a quiet storm of brilliance and ingenuity. The kind of man who didn’t seek recognition, only results. Tony couldn’t help but admire that about you—and, though he’d never admit it out loud, you kept him grounded in a way no one else could.

Tonight, you were sprawled out on the couch in your shared apartment, wearing a faded hoodie and sweatpants you’d stolen from Tony long ago. A notebook rested on your lap, filled with scribbled formulas and diagrams. The room was quiet, save for the occasional scratch of your pen against paper.

The sound of the front door opening broke your focus. Tony stepped inside, tie loosened and suit jacket draped over his arm. He looked tired, but his eyes lit up when they landed on you.

“Hey, handsome,” he greeted, his voice warm as he crossed the room. “What did I say about math after ten?”

You glanced up, rolling your eyes. “You said it’s a house rule. I said it’s not enforceable.”

Tony smirked, plucking the notebook from your hands before dropping it onto the coffee table. Sitting beside you, he wrapped one arm around your shoulders, your head tucked into the crook of his neck. “You were late,” you muttered, resting your head against his shoulder. “Everything okay?”

“Just the usual corporate nonsense,” Tony replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You know how it is—saving the world, keeping the board happy. Exhausting, really. I’m practically a saint.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, but instead of responding, your eyes kept flickering toward the discarded notebook on the table. After a moment, you shifted slightly in his hold, trying to reach for it. Tony groaned dramatically, tightening his grip.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, pulling you closer. “I just got home, and you’re trying to ditch me for math? Do you have any idea how lonely I’ve been? I’ve been deprived of your presence all day, and this—” he gestured at the notebook—“is more important?”

You bit back a laugh, managing to wiggle out of his grasp. “I promise it'll be worth it."

Tony crossed his arms, slumping back against the couch like a sulking child. “Fine, but if I die from lack of cuddles and attention it's on you.”

Grabbing the notebook, you turned back to him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You look fine. And for the record, this 'math' you're referring to is yours."

That caught his attention. His brows furrowed as he sat up straighter, his earlier theatrics forgotten. “Mine?”

You nodded, flipping open the notebook and holding it out to him. “You mentioned the other night that you were having issues with stabilizing the power output on the Iron Man suit. I’ve been working on it.”

Tony’s eyes scanned the pages, his expression softening with each line he read. Your neat handwriting detailed calculations, theories, and possible solutions. You’d even diagrammed potential fixes, complete with annotations on how they’d improve efficiency. “You’ve been working on this?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “For me?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “I know it’s been frustrating you, so I thought I’d try to help.”

For once, Tony Stark was speechless. His eyes flickered between you and the notebook, the weight of your gesture hitting him like a freight train. You’d spent your time—not for your own research or projects, but to solve one of his problems. It wasn’t just the effort or the brilliance of your work—it was the care behind it, the way you always seemed to go out of your way to make his life a little easier.

Tony set the notebook aside, reaching for you instead. His hands cupped your face, his gaze warm and filled with an emotion he rarely let himself feel this deeply. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with gratitude. “I don’t deserve you.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft and full of affection. It wasn’t the usual teasing kiss he’d steal when he was being playful—it was deeper, more vulnerable. A silent thank you, a promise that he’d never take you for granted. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he smiled. “You’re too good to me.”

You laughed softly, your hands resting on his chest. “You’re worth it, Stark. Even if you are a little dramatic sometimes.” Tony chuckled, pulling you into another kiss, his heart full and his mind already spinning with ideas. If this was what it felt like to be loved by you, then he never wanted to let it go.

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dontcare77ghj · 21 days ago

Text

Pinterest, Brains and Chocolate Sauce

Team x reader

Bold Italics is Venom speaking in your head.

Bold is Venom speaking aloud.

Italics is the reader's thinking.

A/N: Hello dear friends, I am not dead surprise!

"Ugh, that's disgusting, you two." Clint's lip curled up in disgust. "Seriously, I think I'm gonna be sick." He said, covering his mouth and turning his head.

"Then don't watch," Venom said, licking the chocolate sauce off your finger.

"And if you're gonna throw up, do it away from the food." You told the archer. "What do you think, bud? Need salt?" You asked, spreading the sauce further with a spoon.

"Salt would be good."

"When did you start adding things to your sheep's brains, Vee?" Natasha questioned the symbiote, watching the two of you with interest.

"Yeah, don't you usually just open your gullet and swallow in one go?" Tony questioned, causing Clint to gag.

"I'm not eating this one."

"This is mine." You told the man, eating a section before letting out an appreciative hum. "This is done. The salt was a good choice." You said, grabbing your plate and moving to sit beside Steve.

"Doll, isn't that raw?" Steve wrinkled his nose as he looked at your meal.

"Yeah, it adds to the flavour." You nodded, cutting your meal into sections.

"Oh, I'm really gonna be sick." Clint groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Which one of you did it?" Bruce called as he entered the kitchen with Thor right behind him.

"I didn't do it."

"It was just a joke."

"Not me."

"Did what?" Natasha rolled her eyes at the table's reactions before turning to Bruce with a fond smile.

"I got a medical alert from FRIDAY," Bruce said, cocking his head. "And when any of you are in the kitchen it's not safe."

"Yeah, that was from me," Tony said, raising a hand. "I got FRIDAY to get you. It's this one." He added, pointing at you.

"I'm not injured, Tony." You rolled your eyes, continuing with your meal.

"Physically, maybe not, but something is going on in your head if you think that's a normal meal," Tony said, cringing as you took another bite.

"Vee eats stuff like this all the time, and no one says anything." You scoffed.

"That's different."

"Yeah, Vee's not normal."

"Hey!"

"No offence, big guy." Clint was quick to reassure the symbiote. "But you're an alien. Your normal is still pretty strange to us." He said as Bruce moved towards you and placed his hand on your head.

"Do you feel sick? You don't feel warm." Bruce tsked.

"You know we can't get sick, Brucie." You said, pushing the scientist's hand off your face.

"We eat the germs." Venom grinned, running his tongue over his teeth.

"Why can't I just eat a meal and not be judged?" You sighed, stabbing at your delicious treat.

"Because that's your second brain of the day," Natasha pointed out to the room.

"Second?"

"I can feel my lunch coming up my throat."

"I've never seen you eat one brain before, let alone two."

"Many women experience a change in appetite when with child." Thor shrugged, sitting beside you. "It's perfectly normal." He added, licking a bit of chocolate sauce off your plate, ignoring the looks the rest of the room shot him.

"What?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not pregnant, Thor." You choked on the food in your mouth. "Oh, shit." You coughed, hitting your chest.

"I got it," Venom said, smacking you on the back.

"Okay, okay, thanks, Vee." You brushed his hand away. "Just because you can heal broken ribs, doesn't mean they don't hurt."

"Thor, we're all on some sort of contraceptive, or just can't have children," Natasha said, with Bruce nodding along. "What makes you think Y/N's pregnant?"

"I am the God of fertility." Thor shrugged. "I know these things. Just as I know that it was Steven and my sperm that created the lives of our children."

"Children? More than one?"

"God and super-soldier sperm. That should do it." Tony muttered.

"Vee?" You murmured, the symbiote extending himself towards your uterus.

"Oh. That's what that is." Venom said before retracting and wrapping himself around your womb.

"I know the situation isn't ideal, not being planned and all, but isn't this kind of what we've always talked about?" Steve wondered. "Having a family of our own?"

"I'm not mad about this. I might need some time to adjust, but," Clint shrugged. "I want this. I want to teach our children to shoot. I want them to have better than me or my brother ever did."

"You know I've always wanted children," Natasha admitted, scratching the table before her. "Even when they told me weapons don't deserve children, I wanted one."

"You're not a weapon, Tash."

"I mean, we've already adopted the spider kid and Barton's sidekick." Tony nodded, resting his hand on Natasha's lower back. "Our kids would grow up with older siblings."

"And we were just talking about the possibility of adopting." Bruce agreed.

"Y/N? How are you feeling about this?" Steve asked and all eyes turned towards you.

Your stomach felt heavy as your lunch began to make its way back up your throat. The taste of chocolate sauce and brain, which had tasted so good going down, did not have the same flavour coming back up.

"Bathroom." You muttered, rising to a stand and rushing towards the nearest bathroom.

You'd been in the bathroom for hours. Your partners had found you pretty quickly, FRIDAY being the snitch she was, and had been at the door ever since.

The knocking had stopped around hour two of you ignoring your soulmates, but someone was always at the door, talking to you through it.

As Steve talked you through his latest painting, you were curled up in the bathtub, the curtain hiding you from the empty room.

'How did we let this happen?' You shook your head, pressing your head into your knees. 'How didn't we notice sooner?'

'It didn't seem dangerous. I didn't see the danger.'

'I can't do this again, Vee. They don't even know. We never told them.'

'It never came up.' Venom comforted you, rubbing a tendril down your back. 'We may have to tell them.'

"They're gonna hate us." You whispered aloud, feeling a tear run down your cheek.

'I can eat them.' Venom offered, wiping your cheek.

'That's alright, Vee.' You shook your head as you rose to a stand. 'We can't keep this a secret anymore.'

'No.'

'Are you okay if I tell them?'

'He won't come back because we thought of him. We already knew that.'

"Steve?" You called, causing the soldier to fall silent.

"Yeah, doll?" You heard him stand outside.

"Can you get everyone to go to the bedroom?" You asked, wringing your hands in front of you.

"Of course, doll," Steve said before you heard him walk away.

"Are you ready, bud?" You asked, stepping out of the tub and moving towards the door.

"If you are," Venom said, shifting so his head rested on your shoulder.

Exiting the bathroom, you slowly made your way through the hall before entering the bedroom where your soulmates sat waiting for you.

"How are you feeling?" Natasha asked as you stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"Gross." You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Did you throw up?" Tony looked green.

"No." You huffed out a laugh at Tony's germaphobic nature.

"Y/N, we've been talking." Steve started, watching you with serious eyes. "And we shouldn't have started talking about the babies like that without checking you wanted this first."

"So, if you don't want this, Bruce found the names of some good doctors," Tony told you, with the other scientist nodding along.

"It is your body, draga." Natasha smiled at you gently. "And ultimately your choice."

"And there's more than a few adoption agencies in New York who are very discreet if that's the way you want to go," Bruce added.

"We're good with whatever you decide," Clint promised, Thor, nodding at his words.

"It's not that I don't want kids with you." You told your soulmates. "It's just, there's something we haven't told you."

"Whatever it is, we can work through it, together," Thor assured you.

"Well, to be honest, we've been telling everyone a bit of a fib for a very long time." You admitted.

"Okay, what kind of a fib are we talking about?"

"Do I need to call the lawyers?"

"Do you have another alien living in you?"

"Pretty big, no, and no." You answered your soulmates' questions. "We didn't actually leave San Francisco right after Drake. We thought maybe we could handle staying and that we could keep our lives there. So we helped Eddie with an interview with Cletus Kasady."

"The serial killer?" Clint raised a brow.

"Yeah. We got left alone with Kasady, and he got weird."

"Y/N?"

"We were under guard, but it was as if he'd researched us before we got there. He knew about my childhood, where I went to school, the name of my first boyfriend, creepy shit like that." You shivered, Kasady's voice still fresh in your mind. "I wanted to leave, but we got too close to the cage, and Kasady grabbed us. He bit us and tore a chunk of our neck out. The guard pulled us away, but it was too late. Kasady ingested a lot of our blood, and that's when it happened." You said, absent-mindedly rubbing the side of your neck.

"What happened?" Steve asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Kasady had our child." You sighed and the room fell into a stunned silence. "Guys?"

"I'm sorry?"

"What?"

"You said nothing like that happened."

"Also, how did that happen?"

"Nothing like that happened." You assured your concerned soulmates. "Venom's species reproduces asexually, and a host's gender doesn't matter. And when our blood mixed with Kasady's DNA,"

"He made Carnage," Venom spoke, lowering his head as he did.

"Where is he?" Tony wondered curiously.

"Carnage wasn't, Carnage didn't," You licked your lips, struggling to find the words. "Kasady ruined Carnage. His DNA, his insanity, and his blood lust ruined Carnage, and there was no other way."

"Carnage was a red one." Venom took over, running a tendril down your arm. "He tried to kill us. He killed people for fun, not food. Carnage had to be put down."

"We tried reasoning with Carnage, we begged, we tried to separate the two, but it didn't work. They weren't symbiotic like us. They were just tangled. We couldn't separate them." You shook your head.

"Oh, Y/N, Vee, why didn't we know?" Natasha asked, standing and pulling you into her arms.

"It was our condition to Fury. We'd meet the team if he kept it off the books." You mumbled into her shoulder.

"And Y/N thought you'd reject us if you knew," Venom added, wrapping around Natasha's waist.

"That's not going to happen." Thor was quick to deny it. The common Earth practice was akin to torture in the blonde's mind. He would never deny one of his chosen.

"It wouldn't have in the beginning, and it won't happen now," Clint agreed, rubbing the Gods' knee.

"So, you think these children will be the same?" Bruce questioned you as you and Natasha pulled apart. The spy wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you towards the bed.

"I don't know. This didn't happen last time." You gestured to your stomach. "We didn't think it could happen."

"It feels strange," Venom spoke up, curling around your waist. "We feel the heartbeat but it's not ours. They think but it's not like us."

"We can feel it." You nodded. "Not just movement, but we can feel them sitting there, stretching themselves out." You said, placing your hand on your stomach.

"Not like our kind."

"Then maybe Venom's genes didn't pass on." Bruce hummed, causing you all to turn to him.

"What do you mean, Bruce?"

"Well, if Venom's species reproduce asexually, then perhaps he didn't pass his DNA onto the children," Bruce said, adjusting his glasses. "Or maybe God and super-soldier DNA is just stronger." He added with a shrug.

"We are strong." Venom huffed. "Do you want to put it to the test?" He challenged, turning to Steve and Thor.

"That's not necessary, Vee," Steve assured just as it looked like Thor was going to agree. "We know you're the strongest here." He said placatingly.

"Yes, we are."

"We want these babies." You said, glancing at your soulmates. "But we can't lose another one."

"Y/N,"

"Carnage was ours. We didn't know him, and we couldn't help him, but he was still ours. He was a part of Venom and when we killed him, we felt his pain. We felt the agony of not being able to merge with Kasady and everything we'd done to him. And we can't do that again." You shook your head. "We can't kill another part of us."

"It's not going to come to that," Tony promised you.

"And if Kasady is what turned Carnage, then if these two are like the two of you, they will be fine," Bruce said assuringly.

"You don't know that."

"Kasady was insane, clinically insane. He was a murderer, a sociopath, that's neither of you. And none of us." Bruce said firmly. "Nurture is just as important as nature."

"That's right." Tony nodded. "These kids are going to grow up with Avengers as their family, literal Gods too. They're gonna be just fine." He added, reaching over to take your hand.

"We're pregnant." You whispered, after a moment, the words loud in the quiet room.

"We're pregnant," Thor repeated as a smile crept onto your face.

"We're gonna have a family."

"We already do, doll. It's just getting a bit bigger is all."

And as you sat surrounded by your family, the weight of the twins in your womb and Venom settled protectively around them, you found thoughts of Kasady and Carnage being pushed to the back of your mind.

For now, everything was as it was supposed to be.

"Okay, Vee only two hours max, remember?" You fussed as the symbiote appeared by Clint's shoulder.

"We remember."

"Because you are not allowed to burn Clint out."

"We will not burn out the bird."

"Babe, we'll be chill." Clint smiled, brushing hair from your face. "Vee and I are buddies. Right, dude?"

"Right, bro."

"Please, never say that again." You sighed as Steve chuckled behind you.

You were just over three months pregnant and a combination of super-solder, God, alien DNA and the fact you were carrying twin, meant you were already showing a lot more than you were supposed to.

It was one thing to know you were pregnant, but to see your body physically changing to accommodate for the two had made it all the more real for you.

As well as your six soulmates.

They were already overprotective, despite Venom's assurances he could take care of the two of you, but when you became four instead of two, it kicked into another drive.

They had begged and pleaded with you for weeks to see reason and stop your patrols with Vee.

At first, you had gently brushed their concern off, but when you woke up one morning with a visible bump, you finally agreed to step back as an Avenger and swing with Vee.

But Venom got bored, and hungry, quickly.

It had been Thor's suggestion to find the symbiote a temporary host and when Clint turned out to be the most compatible after you, the hawkeyed Avenger had quickly agreed to take Venom out on the town.

"No promises," Venom smirked.

"Just breathe, go sit with Stevie and Tasha, eat your brain while I'm not here, and I'll close my eyes real tight while Vee gets his." Clint smiled before a frown quickly took over. "I can't throw up while he's in control, can I?"

"You know, there's a first time for everything." You sighed, pressing a kiss to Clint's cheek and then Venom's when he took over. "I'll see you soon, hon."

"You will," Venom promised, licking your cheek before he, and Clint, were gone.

"Don't think you're going to be staring out the window all night," Natasha said, causing you to look over your shoulder. "Because you picked out the movie and you won't be able to see it from there."

"Nat is right, doll. You need to sit." Steve said, jumping up and moving you towards the couch.

"We're, I'm not an invalid you know." You reminded the two as you settled between the two.

"We know."

"But stress isn't good for you, or the babies," Natasha said, resting her hand on your bump and her head on your shoulder.

"So for the next few hours, you're going to breathe, watch a movie with us, and enjoy your food," Steve added, grabbing your plate from the side table, with only a slight shudder.

"Clint will be fine, Med. He and Venom will look after each other."

"I hope so."

It was almost four hours later when Venom finally slipped back through the window, a smile on his face even as he reduced himself to a mere head on Clint's shoulder.

"I'm gonna kill the pair of you." You shook your head, struggling to sit upright. "What happened to two hours?"

"Sorry sweetheart, got a bit sidetracked there." Clint had the decency to look apologetic. "In my defence, you were right. The flying part is fun."

You let out a long sigh as you fondly shook your head.

"So what was it? Chickens or a bad guy tonight?"

"He had to make do with a few of my feathered friends." Clint joked. "But he'll survive another day."

"Did you at least have fun, bud?" You asked as your symbiote transferred back to you.

"Clint took me to a rave." Venom grinned as Clint groaned.

"What?"

"Barton,"

"That was supposed to be our secret dude." Clint shook his head. "Look before anyone freaks out it was a costume rave, everyone was really chill and thought Vee was just an elaborate costume."

"More like really high." Natasha glared at the archer.

"Clint, that was irresponsible and you know it," Steve started.

"Ooh is daddy mad? Are you going to put me across your lap?"

"Why are we having children again? There's two right here." You sighed, leaning back. "I need a nap."

"Bunsen burners down." You demanded, striding into the lab as you pulled your hair into a ponytail.

"Y/N, we're a bit busy," Bruce started even as Tony did as you said.

"Don't care. Burners down, pants off." You ordered, ripping your shirt off. "We're pregnant,"

"You're pregnant."

"We're horny."

"You're horny."

"And you two are going to fix it."

"That is true."

"Y/N,"

"Bruce we are six months pregnant with your children. We feel fat, we feel starving and we are horny." You said, narrowing your eyes at the man. "Is your experiment more important than your pregnant mate?"

"Of course not."

"Then take your pants off and join us and Tony on the couch before I start crying about how we can't just do it on the counter anymore." You demanded, grabbing Tony by the hand and dragging him to the couch.

"Yes, dear."

"Tony, why are you walking like that?" Clint snickered from his seat "Did you fall out of the elevator?"

"You're the only one who has ever done that, Clint," Thor spoke, patting Clint's shoulder.

"I'm pretty sure my pelvis is broken." Tony groaned, collapsing into a chair. "I need ice. Someone, please. Ice me."

"Your pelvis is not broken." You said, helping Bruce into his own chair.

"Thank you, love." Bruce sighed, weakly patting your hand. "But it all likely very well could be."

"Just what are you two up to in that lab?" Natasha tutted as she moved to the freezer.

"Might want to make that two orders of ice, Nat." You told her, sitting between the boys.

"Just science. Science stuff." Tony sighed, taking your hand in his. "Gotta test things to prove things, you know?"

"We had sex in the lab." Venom grinned as his head appeared on your shoulder. "A table broke."

"That, that tracks." Clint nodded, shooting a sympathetic look at the two scientists. "They got me in the training room a couple of days ago. Broke one of the balance beams."

"Movie room." Steve nodded. "Though I do want to talk logistics on the balance beam." He told Clint.

"I got them in the showers last night," Natasha smirked, dropping a bag of ice each on Bruce and Tony's laps.

"If we weren't already married, itsy bitsy." Tony sighed.

"Well the three of us thoroughly defiled the kitchen just this morning." Thor grinned.

"I knew that was jizz on the counter!"

"Hey!" You interrupted your partners with a couple snaps of your fingers. "You all got us pregnant you can all suffer the consequences. Consequences include high libido and extra high libido from the symbiote." You told the six.

"Not exactly a consequence." Tony chuckled before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

"Damn right."

"Get that out of here."

"You heard the symbiote. Can't come in here." You said from your spot on the floor.

"Vee, Coulson had this made for us. He's going to be upset if he doesn't see it in here." Natasha said, taking the onsie from Thor.

"Smells bad. Not going near spawns." Venom shook his head.

"What do you think of this, bud?" You held up the 'My godfather's the coolest' onesie from Rhodey.

"Smells good." Venom nodded, taking the outfit and putting it in one of the many overfilling drawers. "The colonel has good taste."

"Someone had to influence Tony."

"What if we have it washed? Would that appease you?" Natasha asked, holding up Coulson's gift.

"Maybe."

"I need help, please. Our hips are locking." You said, holding a hand up.

"Elsking, are you sure you are up to this today?" Thor asked as he helped you to your feet. "The twins are very close."

"That's why we have to do this." You reminded the God. "This will be the twin's room for a long time and they need to know their parents made this nest for them thinking only of their safety and comfort. Everything has to be just right."

"You take nesting far too literally." Natasha rolled her eyes as Thor pushed you to sit in a rocking chair. "The twins are hardly going to notice if the paint is chipping."

"Where?" Venom demanded, pulling you to your feet.

"Perhaps not the best joke, darling." Thor smiled at Natasha as he placed his hands on your shoulders. "My loves there is no chipped paint."

"Forgot who I was dealing with for a second." Natasha chuckled, patting the blonde on the arm. "The nest is fine. The twins will love it."

"I hope so." You sighed, still looking over each of the walls. "I just. I want them to know how loved they are. That we want them, even if they were a surprise."

"They will know. We will make them know each day they breathe." Thor swore, his large hand cupping your face.

"How about we go find a couple things of ours to add to here? Would that make the two of you happy?" Natasha asked.

"Yes."

"Very."

"Alright. Thor, keep them off the floor, please. I'll start raiding closets." Natasha said, kissing both you and the God before leaving the room.

"It is not just the twins you think of today, is it?" Thor asked softly, resting his hand on your cheek. "Carnage?"

"He wouldn't have been a baby, but he still would have been ours." You murmured, leaning into his hand.

"He would have been safe with us." Venom huffed.

"Safer than any other in the universe." Thor agreed, smiling at the symbiote. "Often I find myself wondering if I could have done more for Loki." He mentioned, the smile falling from his face.

"You love Loki. They know that." You assured your God.

"Aye, but if I had more care with my words, if I had been as mature as they, I wonder how our paths may have been altered." Thor nodded, his thumb drawing circles on your cheek.

"You may have never come to Earth." Venom pointed out. "We never would have met."

"My point. If we dwell on the past, on what we may have done, we will miss our future and may even sour our present." Thor spoke. "I wish more than anything Loki did not have to spend all those years feeling alone or unworthy, but we cannot change the past."

"We couldn't have fixed Carnage, we couldn't have saved him, we know that. And these babies are not him, but if the worse were to happen it would be our fault this time." You shook your head. "Nothing to do with psychopaths or failed symbiosis,"

"It would be us." Venom agreed. "We have to do the best from the beginning. We have to keep the spawn safe in our nest."

"And we will keep them safe," Thor promised. "Our children will be safe with us."

"I hope so."

"Now, you heard our widow, I am to keep you from the floor. How do you propose I achieve this?" Thor smiled, his hands sliding down to hold your substantial bump.

You let out a sound, a cross between a sigh and a groan, as your eyes rolled back in your head and your hands anchored themselves on Thor's shoulders.

"Take us to bed, feed us brains, and scroll through Pinterest with us?" You suggested and the God smiled.

"Of course, my loves."

"Don't forget the sprinkles."

"We're going to give birth today," Venom announced as the two of you stood in the doorway of the bathroom.

"What?"

"Oh shit! Get the emergency bag!"

"Doll, you need to be sitting down."

"Do you see what happens when we announce things like this?" You groaned at the symbiote. "Everyone calm down, our water hasn't broken yet." You held up your hands placatingly.

"Your water."

"Our water. If I'm pregnant then we're pregnant."

"We are pregnant. You are giving birth."

"You're not gonna just sit there silently watching. You're doing shit too."

"You're going to shit. Bruce told me."

"Do you two need a moment or can we take you two down to the med bay?" Natasha clicked her fingers, drawing your attention back to your confused and amused partners.

"I guess so. We've got everyone on standby just in case this turns into some Cuthulu shit?" You breathed heavily, holding onto your enlarged stomach.

"About twelve, doll," Steve said, wrapping his arm around your waist. "Clint, Tony, can you two grab the bags? Tash, you want to call ahead?"

"Already on it."

"Are we fully packed? Because I coulda swore the list wasn't all checked off."

"You got it, daddy."

"Clint!"

"Oh, I hate you! I hate you all!"

"You're real close, love."

"Why the fuck couldn't we just have a c-section?"

"That's my fault."

"It's all good, Vee, it's an alien thing. She knows."

"I don't know! I hate you all! Oh, fuck, I'm gonna die."

"Elskan, you will not die."

"Time to push, you two."

"Oh fuck!"

"They look like potatoes." You hummed, smiling as one of your daughters suckled at your breast.

"Don't say that. You're gonna give them a complex." Tony shook his head.

"They're an hour old. Give them another hour and they won't even remember I said that." Clint chuckled, trying to get the girl in his arms to burp.

"They most likely cannot understand a single thing we are saying," Bruce said, holding the baby in Clint's arms hand.

"They smell funny," Venom commented, tasting the air as if he were a snake.

"I wouldn't smell them too much big guy. You might smell something that's a bit more disgusting." Steve joked.

"Alright, I think this little girl is done." You announced as the girl in your arms popped off your boob.

"Ooo, gimmie." Natasha grinned, holding her hands out towards you.

"All yours, love." You smiled as Natasha began to murmur to the baby in Russian. "Vee, what are you doing?" You asked as the symbiote leaned closer to the baby.

"They smell strange."

"It's baby smell, Venom. All newborns have it." Thor explained, but the symbiote continued to sniff at the babies.

Venom's face gently rubbed against the newborn in Natasha's arms. The baby let out a snuffle as it shifted in Natasha's hold, leaning into Venom's touch before letting out a cry of discomfort.

"Don't worry sweetheart. Mama's got you." Natasha hummed, beginning to try to burp the baby.

With her sister crying, baby girl two wasn't far behind. Venom let out a whine at the loud noise, retreating back to your side.

"Scared of the babies, Vee?" Tony teased.

But before Venom could respond, the eight of you watched as the babies in Natasha and Clint's arms both seemingly flickered. Their still pink skin turned shades of purple and black disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

"They're like us," Venom announced with pride. "We have strong DNA!" He boasted.

"They sure are, bud." You smiled, wrapping your arm around the symbiote.

"What does the purple mean?" Bruce wondered.

"Besides being awesome!" Clint grinned, kissing the baby in his arms cheek.

"They're strong," Venom responded simply. "We have made strong children."

"Well, what do you expect? With God, supersoldier, and symbiote DNA, we're gonna have a hard time finding a daycare." You sighed, leaning back in the bed, watching your soulmates, your symbiote and your children with a smile firmly on your face.

This was your family.

Remember, all Taglists are open, as are requests. Taglists include the main taglist, individual characters, all male/female, and venom stories.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-shitposting @skadikh @summergeezburr @buckybarton03 @sunshinepower17 @bindythedemon @natasharomanoffismywife @keenmarvellover @bbybarness @storiesbystarlight @buckybarnesplumwhore @bromieeomieee @marvelmenarebeautiful @niki-is-a-thing @pauloonig @abyssiniapleasant @beautybyfire @officalmarvelbaby @acertainredhead @reapersan @adoreyou976 @casperlikej @songbirdcannabe @montygator17 @cecedrake2217 @nyx2021 @black-dhalias @idontwannagomrstarkk @chiyongberry @bunnyweasley23 @ratzy

Natasha Romanoff Taglist

@natasha-danvers @5aftermidnight @ohfuckno @mxxmocha

All women Taglist

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Tony Stark Taglist

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Thor Odinson Taglist

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Venom Taglist

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138 notes · View notes

mazikeenofthelilim · 7 months ago

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loki's kinks & headcanons !

tags: 18+ readers only, mentions of slight smut.

orgasm denial : now lets face it, loki will absolutely deny you of any orgasms until he sees that youre an absolute mess for your prince.

"does my little whore need to cum ?" loki mocks with a slight tsk, his fingers pushing slowly into your dripping hole. "i havent even given you my cock yet so not yet, dear." his fingers delayed their motions, pulling themselves out of you and leaving you to clench around air— your hips moving to try and chase his fingers desperately.

overstimulation : now on the other hand, sometimes he has to give his good girl a prize.

"my prince.. i-i cant, no more." you stuttered, your walls clenching around his thick cock as he pushed himself into you roughly.

loki shook his head, his hand grabbing your jaw roughly and turning your head so that you looked him in the eye. "you can and you will. good girls get what they want and this one, had previously stated that she wanted the most so unless the safe word is slipping from those innocent lips, dont tell me no more again."

dirty talk : loki loves to hear himself talk, i guess its a good thing that you love it too.

"so fucking tight." loki muttered, thrusting his hips at a face and punishing pace. "you were born to take this cock. born for the prince to fill you up and fuck you all night long."

public sex : his favorite place that you both have done it is definitely on odins throne.

"loki !" you squealed, the man in questions hands were pining you down on the hard concrete. "what- what if odin walks in." you moaned out, your hips pushing back to meet his thrusts.

"its all apart of the thrill sweetheart. i can tell by the way youre gushing around your princes cock that you love the thought of odin finding you with your messy hair getting fucked by his supposed son on his thorne." loki never gave up on his pace.

breeding : it goes without question.

"want me to fuck an heir into your belly, sweetheart. get you swollen and round with my child." loki bit at your neck, his balls tightening as he felt his orgasm approaching.

"please ! yes, yes, yes !" you chanted, your orgasm close to its peak as well.

loki smirked devilishly, "so fucking take it."

338 notes · View notes

sycamorelibrary754 · 1 year ago

Text

We're a Family

Summary: You and Natasha are taking your first vacation since the birth of your 5-year-old daughter. While you and Natasha are off on a romantic getaway to Paris for your anniversary, how will your Avengers family handle watching your daughter for the weekend?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Romance

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Some mentions of grief.

A/N: Thank you so much for the positive feedback on Come Home to Me! I hope to keep writing as I feel inspired and have time. This story takes place after the events of Endgame. Tony survived defeating Thanos with the Snap, and Steve brought Natasha back after returning the Soul Stone to Vormir.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Natasha questioned for the third time that Friday morning as you gathered the last essentials for your 5-year-old daughter to take to the Avengers Compound. You and Nat were taking your first vacation together since your child's birth in celebration of your wedding anniversary. Understandably, your wife was struggling with the idea of leaving your daughter. It was all you could do to convince Natasha to drop her off at preschool, let alone leave her overnight.

“Love, we’ve talked about this. It’s only for the weekend. Mila is going to have a great time. Besides, there is nowhere safer for her than surrounded by Avengers. You trust them with your life”, you remind her reassuringly as you rub gentle circles on her back.

“Exactly. My life, not my child,” Nat muttered.

It had been five years since you gave birth to your and Natasha’s daughter. Your whole world changed from the moment you both laid eyes on her. Soon after, Nat transitioned into semi-retirement with guidance from Clint. She was still available for consultation and recruit training or if the situation was dire, but you and Mila are her number one priority now.

You heard little feet padding down the hall as your daughter entered your bedroom. Her red curls bounced up and down on her head. “I'm ready, Mommy and Mama!” Mila squealed.

“Oh, Moya Lyubov, you look so pretty! Did you dress yourself this morning?” Natasha asked, getting down to her level.

“Yes! I wanted to match Auntie Yelena!” as she showed off her mini black vest that Yelena made her for her last birthday, worn expertly over her pink tutu.

“Auntie Yelena is going to love it, sweetheart. You’re going to have so much fun with your aunts and uncles this weekend,” hugging her tight.

After packing your luggage in the car, you drive to the compound. FRIDAY greets you as you exit the main elevator. “Good morning, Ms. Romanoff, Ms. Y/L/N.” The team is awaiting your arrival in the common room.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY,” you replied as Mila let go of Natasha’s hand and ran ahead of both of you, having been here several times already in her young life.

As you enter the room, you see Wanda and Vision in the kitchen, and the smell of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air. Peter and Kate are playing video games, Bucky and Sam are playing cards with Clint, and Steve is quietly reading Moby Dick.

“Little spider!” Yelena called out as she entered the room, and Mila ran into her arms.

“Auntie Yelena! Do you like my outfit? I got dressed all by myself!”

“I love it, malayshka. It's so much cooler than Mama’s outfit,” Yelena says as she side-eyes her older sister with a smile. “We are going to have so much fun this weekend.”

“Yeah, about that,” Natasha interrupted. “Mission briefing in five.”

Mission briefing?" you asked, confused. "Love, we're going on vacation, not a stakeout.”

“Yes, but they have the most important mission of all, watching our daughter,” motioning to the group before you.

Your heart warms at how protective your wife was—the Black Widow. She was a woman who would run into a collapsing building or intercept an alien invasion without batting an eye, but the moment she became a mother, everything changed. She vowed to give Mila everything she never had as a child. To break the cycle of uncertainty and pain that the Red Room forced upon her. Truthfully, you were so proud of how far Natasha had come. From growing up believing love was for children to giving nothing but love to both of you.

Just then, Tony and Bruce entered the living room, arguing over their latest nanotech calculations, with Pepper following closely behind.

“Hey, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, park it,” Natasha declared.

“Ah, Rushman, wonderful to see you as always,” Tony says, winking at Nat. She rolled her eyes in response as Tony and Bruce hugged you before sitting down, and Pepper picked up your daughter.

“Come on sweetie, do you want to go play with Morgan?” Pepper asked.

“Yay!” Mila cheered as they walk down the hall to Morgan’s room.

“Okay, here are some quick dos and don’ts for this weekend. No guns, no repulsor rays, no arrows, and no using our daughter as a beta test subject for any new experiments. When Thor gets here, no Asgardian beverages in front of our child. Mila’s bedtime is 7 pm, and she likes it if you do the characters' voices when you read her bedtime story. If she has trouble falling asleep, a lullaby usually does the trick. Got it?”

“Geez, this is almost as bad as Budapest,” Clint whispered to Kate.

“It’s going to be alright, Natasha,” Wanda reassured. “We’re a family. You know we would do anything for that little girl. Please, go and enjoy your anniversary. No one deserves some special alone time more than you two”, Wanda says as she hands you a tin of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies for the trip.

You put your arm around Natasha and kiss her cheek. “Wanda is right, my love. Mila will be fine.”

Just as you complete the sentence, Mila runs back into the room. “Mommy, Mama! Morgan has Puss and Boots: The Last Wish, and we will watch it tonight before bedtime.”

“That sounds like so much fun, sweetheart! I know you will be a good girl for your aunts and uncles, and Mommy and Mama will see you on Sunday night, okay? We love you so much.” you said.

“Okay, Mommy. I love you!” She said as she hugged you so tight. Natasha knelt to kiss your daughter on the cheek and squeezed her hand three times. Their unique way of saying I love you. After one last hug and kiss, you walk to the Quinjet. Tony had offered one for easy and convenient travel.

*^~^*

By the time you arrive at your hotel in Paris, it’s almost dinner time. After sightseeing, you two enjoyed a gourmet candlelit dinner under the Parisian moon and a romantic stroll under the stars. When you returned to your room, you received a text message from Clint with a photo of your daughter asleep on her bed—lovingly cuddled under a blanket with Yelena.

“See, she’s okay,” you said lovingly as Natasha smiled at the picture of her little girl and her little sister.

As you lay in bed that night, you feel more grateful than ever to be here with the love of your life. Both of you had learned firsthand to never take anything for granted.

You were one of the lost souls left behind after the Blip. Struggling with the loss of your loved ones, you began attending Steve’s Brooklyn Support Group once a week. It was after one of those meetings that you were first introduced to the Black Widow.

Natasha hesitated at first to let anyone in. She was too scared to lose anyone else and was convinced that nothing should take away from her commitment to bring everyone back. However, she still found any excuse to attend Steve’s meetings. Whether that was to bring homemade peanut butter sandwiches for the snack table or shyly offering to give you a ride home.

You weren’t a hero or a super soldier. You didn’t remind Natasha of the guilt she carried over the last five years as the fallout from the Blip continued. You were just yourself, which Natasha loved the most about you. You began to visit her at the compound, and slowly but surely, the walls came down for both of you.

When she told you about the Time Heist, you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t comprehend the thought of losing Natasha, but you knew she believed in her heart that she owed it to everyone they had lost to try. When Clint returned from Vormir alone and dropped to his knees, so did you. Grief overtook you all over again.

As the Battle for Earth became inevitable, the team hid you in a safe house off the grid. Days went by and you lost track of time, stuck in your grief and unaware of what was happening. It wasn't until a knock on your door awoke you in the middle of the night that you dropped to your knees again. This time in shock at the sight of Natasha on your doorstep. Tears streaming down her face, she told you they had won. Tony defeated Thanos with the Snap, and Steve performed a miracle by bringing her back upon returning the Soul Stone to Vormir.

So much life has happened since then. You were married in a beautiful autumnal ceremony shortly after Nat returned and bought your house. Five years ago and twelve hours of labor later, you welcomed your daughter into the world that your wife sacrificed herself to save. You couldn’t believe how much you loved them both. Returning to the present moment, you gently move a strand of Natasha’s unbraided red hair away from her face. Her hands move effortlessly to the nape of your neck, and you lose yourself in her touch.

*^~^*

It’s Saturday morning back at the compound, and Mila is eating blueberry pancakes when Clint strolled in from his morning workout.

“Hey, squirt! Those pancakes look amazing. Did Auntie Wanda make those?” he asked, reaching for the extra plate of pancakes on the counter.

Before Mila can respond, the plate glides quickly away from him, enveloped in Wanda’s red magic. “Auntie Wanda did make those, but they’re only for adorable little girls named Mila. Is your name Mila?” Wanda said to Clint with a raised eyebrow.

“No,” Clint grumbled.

“Then make your breakfast, Hawkeye,” Wanda sighed, patting him on the back.

After breakfast, Sam and Bucky take Mila outside to play. Meanwhile, Steve is working on a mission report in his room when FRIDAY interrupts his concentration. “Mr. Rogers, I’m picking up an elevated heat signature from your shield just north of your location.” Steve looked curiously out the window to see Mila giggling as she slid across the grass. She is sitting on his overturned shield, pulled by a rope tied to the back of Red Wing.

“My shield is not a toy!” Steve yelled out the window.

“Oh, hey, Cap! It does make a great sled, doesn’t it?” Bucky answered, pretending not to hear what his best friend said, as Sam laughed out loud.

Steve shakes his head to hide his smile. You meant the world to him, having spent countless hours processing your grief together in that dark and dank recreation room in Brooklyn. He was honored when you and Natasha asked him to be Mila’s godfather. His shield was made from Vibranium, after all. If his goddaughter wanted to play with it, he knew no harm would be done.

That afternoon, Peter arrived at the compound to work on his newest suit upgrade with Tony. Mila is engrossed in coloring at the kitchen table with Auntie Kate when Peter walks in to get a soda.

“Hey Mila, what are you up to?”

“Coloring, do you want to help us?” Mila asked happily.

Peter nodded, and they got lost in her Disney Princess coloring book for the next twenty minutes. After adding pretty sparkles to Elsa’s Frozen dress, Mila noticed Peter’s Spider-Man suit sticking out of his bag.

“Pretty!” Mila said with wide eyes.

“You like it?” Peter asked.

“Yes, is this how you fly? Mama says you can fly!” Mila exclaimed.

“Something like that,” Peter chuckled and tousled her hair.

Down in the lab, Tony had been waiting for Peter to arrive for half an hour. Unusual, as his protege was typically annoyingly punctual. Running out of patience, Tony asks FRIDAY for Peter’s current location.

“Mr. Parker is in the kitchen with Ms. Bishop and the young Ms. Romanoff, sir.” Tony rolls his eyes as he trudged up the stairs.

“Hey Hawkette, have you seen Peter? He was supposed to — “

Tony stops as he sees Peter swinging from the ceiling with Mila on his back. Kate was too busy filming the spectacle on her phone to notice Tony standing there.

“Wee!! Faster, Uncle Peter!” Mila shouted as Peter’s web carried them across the room to the top of the bookcase.

Tony’s eyes follow the pair around the room. He put on his best poker face, “I won’t tell Romanoff or her better half, but if you break it, you pay for it. That includes the kid.” Tony warned.

“Sure thing, Mr. Stark,” Peter gives Tony a thumbs up.

“And for God’s sake, at least put some pillows down on the floor!” Tony hollered as he walked back to his lab.

*^~^*

You and Natasha took a Saturday evening cruise down the Seine River in the city of love. It was magical. When your phone alerted you to an incoming FaceTime from Carol, you had seen the Musée d’Orsay the Notre Dame Cathedral and had just reached the top of the Eiffel Tower. You swiped, her face appearing on the screen.

“Hey, you two, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be on Earth-616 tomorrow for a meeting with Fury and thought I’d drop in on my favorite couple. Wait, where are you?”

“Paris, for our anniversary! Our first vacation alone in over five years. Can you believe it?” you said giddily as Natasha put her arms around your waist and lovingly kissed your cheek.

“Wow, that’s wonderful! Where’s your little mini-me?” Carol asked.

“With the team if you’re going there anyway, could you just make sure that everything is good with Mila?” Natasha inquired.

“Of course. You know you never have to ask.”

“Thank you, Carol,” you gratefully respond. We’ll be back tomorrow evening, so I’m sure we’ll see you then.” Carol gave you a mock salute before you ended the call and put your phone back in your coat pocket.

“You look so beautiful, dorogaya. After all this time, I still can't believe you’re mine.” Nat waxed poetically as she removed her scarf and wrapped it around your neck. Natasha could not look more beautiful in the glow of the Eiffel Tower. You decided this is the perfect moment to give her your anniversary gift. You slowly hand her the red velvet box you had snuck into your satchel. Her green eyes went wide at the sight of it.

“Detka! We said no gifts this year. This trip is gift enough,” Nat facetiously scolded.

“I know, but I still wanted to do something special for you,” you said sheepishly.

Natasha opens the box, revealing a simple, delicate gold heart locket necklace. Upon opening the pendant, she is greeted by a candid photo of all three of you. Clint took one during your last visit with his family in Iowa. Nat was sitting on Clint’s front porch with a smiling Mila on her lap. You are leaning behind her with your arms wrapped lovingly around her neck. It quickly became one of your favorite photos of your small yet precious family.

“This is so beautiful, Moya Lyubov. Can you put it on me?”

You moved Natasha’s braid away from her neck and clasped the necklace in the back. The heart locket fell directly on top of her own heart. It looked perfect on her. You're not sure who leaned in first, but your lips met in a kiss that made your stomach flutter like it was the first time. You couldn’t be happier than you were at that moment.

*^~^*

The Sunday morning sun was slowly breaking through the compound windows. Yelena was pouring your daughter a bowl of Cheerios and singing along to the sound of American Pie from her phone when The God of Thunder entered through the Bifrost. Mila jumped and started to hide behind her Auntie Yelena but ran toward him when she realized only her Uncle Thor was materializing before them, leaving his trademark on Pepper’s Persian rug.

“Must you do that every time? You’re becoming more of a poser than my sister.” Yelena remarked.

“Of course,” Thor said nonchalantly. “It is the only entrance fit for the God of Thunder.”

He lifted Mila with one arm, “Odin’s Beard! You’ve gotten so big since I last saw you, Mila,” Thor declared

“I know! Did you bring me a present Uncle Thor?” Mila squealed.

“Yes! Now, let’s see here… Asgardian Ale, Mead, no… ah, here it is!” He handed the little girl a small snow globe set in gold with her name engraved elegantly on the base.

“Wow. Pretty snow globe….” Mila whispered.

“It is indeed,” Thor said, sitting cross-legged on the carpet before the little girl. “This is a special Asgardian snow globe. Look, see the rainbow bridge inside it?” He pointed. “Most importantly, Lady Mila, if you shake it, I shall be there in a flash. If ever you need me, I will be there.”

“Thank you, Uncle Thor!” Mila said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. I’m going to show it to my Teddy Bear!” Running to her bedroom.

“You spoil her, you know,” Yelena stated with a smirk, as she began to clean up the kitchen.

“I know, but she is such a grand example of goodness and joy in such a tiny human. She deserves the world.” Thor declared.

Carol arrived shortly after lunch. After a short meeting with Fury in the conference room regarding upcoming mission targets, she finds your daughter in the compound courtyard. She is wearing her vest to match her favorite auntie as Yelena demonstrates the newest tricks Fanny has learned.

“Roll over! Good girl, Fanny!” Yelena praised the dog. Mila takes a treat out of her vest pockets with her tiny hand and tosses it to the Akita.

“Well done, Mila! Before you go home tonight, I will show you what else you can hide inside those pockets,” winking at her niece.

“Fruits and veggies, right, Yelena?” Carol deadpanned as Mila ran over and jumped into Captain Marvel’s arms.

“Auntie Carol! When did you get here?” Your daughter giggled.

“Just a little bit ago. I talked to your Mommy and Mama last night. They miss you and can’t wait to see you when they get home tonight,” Carol shared before kissing your daughter on the cheek.

*^~^*

As the sun started to sink on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the ancient city of Paris, you found yourself immersed in the rich history of the Louvre museum. You had eagerly anticipated this moment, and after spending the afternoon exploring the countless treasures within the museum's walls, Natasha was determined to ensure you had the chance to lay eyes on the iconic Mona Lisa. As you weaved your way through the bustling crowd of tourists, Natasha's determined presence caused a path to effortlessly clear before you as she kindly asked them to move the fuck over.

You returned to your hotel and enjoyed a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries when Natasha’s phone dinged.

Carol: Hey, lovebirds. It's all good here. Mila is doing great and excited to see you when you return. However, you may want to check her vest pockets when you get home for some “special” presents courtesy of Auntie Yelena. 😘

Natasha giggled, showing you the text.

“The important thing is that they’re bonding,” placing a delicate kiss on her temple.

Following Wanda’s delicious Chicken Paprikash dinner, your daughter watched Frozen II. Vision attempted to explain the science behind snowflakes to her when Tony strolled into the lounge.

“Hey, kiddo, do you want to come to the lab with me and see the new suit modifications that the Jolly Green Giant and I are working on?”

“Yay!” Mila said excitedly, jumping up and down.

“Sir, Ms. Romanoff indicated there was to be no experimenting with young Ms. Mila while she is in our care.”

“Relax, chrome dome. We’re just looking at the new holographic mockup.” Picking up Mila and carried her to his lab.

*^~^*

After a few hours, Natasha gracefully guided the Quinjet to a smooth landing. As the engines powered down, she took a deep breath and gently reached across the console to grasp your hand. Together, you gazed out at the glittering lights of the team living quarters in the distance.

"Thank you for making our anniversary so wonderful," you said. "I love you so much. I know it was tough for you to leave Mila for three days, but not only did we have a beautiful anniversary, but our daughter got to spend meaningful time with her family, which she will always remember." You pressed a kiss to her knuckles as Natasha caressed your cheek.

You were right, dorogaya. This was perfect. I’m sorry I was so nervous about leaving her. I just never thought I would have my happily ever after. That little girl and you are my everything. It breaks my heart every time I leave either one of you.

“I know, my love,” you said quietly. “Now, let’s go get our daughter and go home.”

As you entered the compound, the air was filled with shouting and the excited barking of Fanny and Lucky. Natasha instinctively reached for her spare Widow Bites, but before she could react, both of you heard the unmistakable sound of your daughter's laughter. Following the noise, you entered the common room to find your daughter joyfully running through the compound. She was wearing her pajamas and had one of Tony’s Iron Man helmets perched on her head while clutching a can of whipped cream. Yelena and the rest of the team were in hot pursuit, with puffs of whipped cream trailing behind her as she raced through the room.

Kate skidded to a stop in front of both of you. “Oh, you guys are back. Awesome! Umm, we made ice cream sundaes for dessert. Mila enjoyed hers, as you can see”, Kate motioned, breathing heavily.

Mila took her last lap around the couch when she caught sight of you and Natasha.

“Mommy, Mama! You’re here!!” she squealed, running into Natasha’s arms.

“Hi, Moya Lyubov, we missed you so much!!” Natasha said as she wrapped Mila in a big hug before passing her to you to do the same.

“It looks like you had fun with your aunts and uncles this weekend,” removing the helmet and brush a red curl away from her eyes.

“I had so much fun, Mommy! I got to eat yummy food, ride a sled, fly, and Auntie Yelena helped me hide special treasures in my vest pockets. Oh, and I got a magic snow globe with my name on it!” Your daughter rambled happily.

Natasha looked at you slightly skeptical, wondering if your sweet little girl was exaggerating. With your family, you were never quite sure.

“Wow, that sounds amazing, kotyonok!” Are you ready to go home now?” Nat asked as Mila gives you her best puppy dog eyes.

“It’s okay sweetheart, we’ll come back and see everyone next weekend. Why don’t you go get your Teddy bear?” you suggested.

“I’ll help her with her things,” Yelena said, scooping up your daughter and walking to her bedroom.

“We can’t thank all of you enough for taking such good care of her. I know she would stay here forever if we let her.” You said as you move through the group hugging every one.

She is always welcome here, you two know that.” Wanda said, confident she was speaking for the entire team.

A short while later, Mila emerged with her unicorn backpack, followed by Yelena, carrying more bags than she had when you dropped her off. You couldn't help but shake your head, knowing the team had showered her with gifts. Natasha crouched down to Mila’s eye level, tenderly placing her hand on her back. “Can you say goodbye and thank you to all of your aunts and uncles, dorogaya?” she asked. Mila made her way around the room, hugging everyone. It warmed Natasha to witness her family showering your daughter with so much love and affection.

Mila drifted off to sleep only five minutes after being placed in her car seat. Upon returning home, Natasha carried her to her bed with the utmost care. She tenderly laid Mila down, ensuring she was tucked in snugly, and then, both of you gently kissed her forehead before quietly slipping out of the room. You decided to postpone the unpacking until the following day, feeling too exhausted from the long journey. In the bedroom, Natasha was sitting in bed, engrossed in a book with her reading glasses perched precariously on the edge of her nose. The day's fatigue faded as you turned off the bathroom light and joined her in bed.

“I couldn’t have asked for a more romantic anniversary, my love,” you admitted as you carefully removed her glasses from her face and gently kissed her lips. “But there is nowhere I would rather be than at home with you and our beautiful daughter.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Nat said, returning the kiss.

As Natasha drifted into slumber, her mind wandered back to the tumultuous path that had brought her to this moment. She couldn't escape the memories of her past—a life of manipulation in the Red Room with no autonomy and the unending pursuit to cleanse her conscience of the bloodstains it bore. But then came the shot that Clint didn't take and the chance that Fury did. Her deeply unconventional yet cherished family culminated in the arrival of you and your precious daughter. In these precious bonds, Natasha Romanoff found the strength to thrive and, at long last, find peace.

914 notes · View notes

hotheadedhero · 3 months ago

Text

Threshold

AN: Think I still got Rise Raph deep-rooted in the brain, especially his savage mode, soooooo enjoy the result of my obsession :3

Raphael x Reader

Warnings: violence, couple of bad words, kinda angsty (are you surprised?), savage Raph being protective <3

Dark. Pitch black. Quiet.

When did it get so dark?

The last thing Raph remembers is-

Crud. His head is pounding. He pulls himself up from the strangely cold floor and rises lethargically only to cause further incursion against a ceiling. Ow. One hand nurses the top of his head as the other feels around. He’s inside some kind of box, smooth all around and cold - must be a metal. How did he get in here? He was… he was out. Somewhere. That’s it, he was out with… with… with you! Yeah, date night, that was it. Then, something happened. Damn it. He can’t concentrate with this drumming in his skull. Him and you. Out together. Then… then?

Shit!

His shoulder suddenly barrels into the side, and a second time but no budge. He remembers now: the two of you were making your way back from an anniversary date when a group got the jump on you. They must have knocked him over the head and trapped him in here whilst he was unconscious. That means they have you. No. Not on his watch. Not as long as he’s got breath in his lungs.

Surveying his circumstances, he realises just how serious these guys are about keeping him at bay. No windows, not even a keyhole for light to pass through, nothing but darkness. This box also appears to block out a decent amount of sound. Just him and the crackle of his breathing as it comes in and out in shorter successions. His palms stroke over the cold, metal walls before he punches one. Then, again. He slams his fists in the same place over and over in the hopes of creating a weak spot.

Nothing.

His annoyance and dread only grow. Just what is this thing made of? No. No time to speculate. It doesn’t matter how sturdy this entrapment is. What matters is finding a way to break it. Whoever has done this is going to pay sorely. Raphael is protective of everyone he cares about but when it comes to you, he feels a bit more passionate; decisively out for blood. A concerning revelation he hadn’t the cause to encounter until now but he won’t worry about that now. He needs to make sure you're not hurt. He needs to get out.

Once again, his hands ball up and he punches every spot he can feel. He's not going to give up. He'll keep going until his knuckles bleed if he has to. Every whack makes the metal ring in his ears. Every jab stings as bruises form on his fists. With every hit, an image of you flashes in his mind, scared of what danger you may be in. The interior lights up with the bright red of his ninpõ and he carries on. He has to protect you. There’s no way of contacting his brothers for their aid. He needs to get out.

Eventually, he comes to a stop. Raph gave it all his might and hasn't even made a scratch. The perpetual darkness and his stunted gasping pushes him closer to the edge. He falls to his knees, head spinning, his mind dizzy and disoriented. Right. That’s right. This cage is a complete seal, which means it's more than likely that there aren't any cracks for even oxygen to pass through. His air is finite and he's wasted it all on this futile attempt to break out. No. He needs to get OUT!

The large snapper cries out in frustration, only for his screams to bounce back at him with an even fiercer roar. You’re alone with the threat out there. He’s alone in here. He can feel himself slipping. The only assurance he has is himself and his self-assaulting shots of paranoia. Why can't he get out of this forsaken box?! No. No. Nonono! He needs to stay. He's not going to be much help if he ends up going berserk. Raphael’s teeth clench and he clasps onto his head desperately. It feels like his brain is splitting in two. Crap! Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it to-

On the outside, some tunnels down, you have your hands tied, held behind your back with little give. The ropes bite into your wrists as you twist and turn, trying to find some leverage to loosen them. Your surroundings are cold and unwelcoming, filled with the faint scent of metal and something else you can’t immediately place. It’s unpleasant but recognisable. The sewers. More specifically, New York sewers. That’s a relief in some respect, knowing that you’re still in familiar territory. You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus. Raph is out there, and you need to find a way to reach him. Your heart races at the thought of him being in pain or worse. You can't let that happen. You have to find a way to get to him, to tell him you're okay, to let him know that you're fighting too. Think. There must be a way to get out of this before those hoodlums come back. Everything around you is as bare as the ideas in your head, in that you have none. With a huff, you adjust back into a sitting position. Something pokes at you where thigh meets hip bone. Something sharp. A shuriken! You’re glad for your need to be ready for any given situation but wish you had opted to place it in your back pocket instead. The top half of your body swivels one way and you force your legs to turn the opposite. Your fingers twitch and stretch in desperation. With each movement, the ropes dig deeper into your skin, but you push through the pain. You suck in a sharp breath and twist yourself further. A nail scratches against the metal and then the tip of your fingers. You frantically stroke towards yourself until it’s released from the captive pocket and clanks onto the ground. There’s no time to get breath back, however. You quickly stumble on an axis and clasp onto the star, wasting not another second as you delicately rub it back and forth against the ropes. The fibres begin to fray, and you can feel the bindings loosening. Hope surges within you, igniting a fire in your belly. You just need a little more time.

Just as you’re about to free your wrists, two figures, masked and menacing, step inside the concave structure of grey brick and stone, their eyes glinting with malice as they size you up. You do the same, noting the slightly inhuman shapes of them. They must be Yokai of some description if you had to guess. Do the turtles have beef with any Yokai? You don’t recall.

"Well, well, look who decided to wake up," one of them sneers, stepping closer.

You swallow hard, adrenaline coursing through your veins. "Where's Raph?" you demand, your voice steadier than you feel. “What do you want with us?”

The other figure kneels down to your level and chuckles darkly, “Our only interest is that big pet of yours. He’s got a pretty price on his head for the battle nexus and we intend to collect.”

The battle nexus: a major blood sport attraction that used to take place in the hidden city back when Big Mama was running shop. An event that you thought to be deceased many years ago. You suppose it’s only natural that someone would eventually want to resurrect it for their own nefarious desires. What better way to do that than with a behemoth turtle who showcases great strength? If their only priority is Raphael then what’s the point in keeping you around? You’re glad they’ve kept you alive but they could have just as easily left you behind. You’re almost afraid to ask but you need to maintain conversation whilst subtly working on your restraints.

“Why keep me around then?”

“Leverage,” the one in front of you states simply and you can feel the smirk in his voice. “Our guess is that he’ll be more agreeable if he doesn’t want you getting hurt.”

The two laugh and you frown. A sense of dread swirls in your stomach. Sickos. Taking advantage of someone’s love and care just to torture the life of another. Each cackle from their hidden lips only feeds into your desperation that much more. It takes another moment and then, finally, your shoulders can relax and you take a calming breath. You join in their laughter, rising in volume as they quieten. When they silence completely, you do the same with a long, melodic sigh.

“You made just one teeny tiny miscalculation.” Suddenly, your arms land at your sides and you fall back, bringing your feet up to kick the first tyrant in the face. “Dating one of the Mad Dogs means picking up a few tricks!”

With one down, you push yourself forward onto your feet, quickly tossing the throwing star in the other guy’s direction. It catches him on the leg and he howls in pain, falling to one of his knees. That works for you. You see your opening and take it, running as fast as you can down the long tunnel. With determination fueling your every step, you run, ready to face whatever awaits you, knowing that the moment you find Raph, you’ll both be able to get out of this.

"Raph!" you shout, desperate for him to hear you. "I’m here! I’m coming!"

The sound of something scraping against metal echoes through the sewer hall, and you can only assume that it has to do with him. Running on that theory, you sprint in the direction the sound came from, bounding past a couple of goons and bringing you to a large junction where four tunnels meet. In the centre of this junction is a large metal cage and it cries from something inside trying to get out. He’s in there. This is it!

You run past five or six more masked figures to get to the box. Maybe you should have thought this through better. Yet again, they won’t be a problem if you can figure out how to open this thing; a switch, a lever, anything! But there’s nothing. In a last-ditch effort, you pick up the first thing at your disposal - a broken pipe - and whack it against one of the corners. The hit reverberates and sends a shockwave through your bones, making you drop the pipe. How are you supposed to get this blasted cage open?!

You reach for the rusted tube of metal again but a set of arms snake around you and lift you from the ground, tearing a scream from your lungs. Freedom was so sweet, yet so short. You shout hysterically for your Raphael, hoping with all your breath that it’ll reach him, that it’ll give him the strength to breach him of his capture.

"Sorry to burst your bubble,” one of the crooks from before laughs, although breathless from his run here, “but that box has been infused with mystic energy! It would take a miracle to-"

SCHREEE-EEEECH!!!

A piercing shriek cuts through the open air and everyone halts. Bangs like thunder trail after, followed by another loud, ear-splitting scrape of metal. All eyes slowly glance over to the box where a couple of large, dark-green spikes are poking out from the side, having cut through. They disappear back inside and are soon replaced with two hands that proceed to push the metal away. You smile victoriously. You knew your big lug would find a way to break out. That spiky shell is sharper than he gives himself credit for. You attempt to run forward and reunite with him but this damn bastard won’t let go of you.

Raph erupts from the confines of the metal box, hunched over and huffing with a gravelliness that makes the hairs on your neck stand up. The atmosphere shifts like a storm brewing on the horizon. He stands tall and intimidating, the dim light casts shadows over his hulking figure, muscles coiled like springs ready to unleash chaos. The moment he spots you, a deep growl rumbles from deep within his chest, resonating with an anger that has been building in the darkness.

Still, no one has attempted a move, no one brave enough to do so, but one is eager to see this standstill put to an end. “Don’t just stand there! Attack!”

The crooks scramble, thrusting their weapons in his direction and he responds with a guttural battle cry, lunging at the nearest bandit - a hulking brute who barely has time to raise his weapon before Raph’s fist connects with his jaw. The impact is followed by a nasty crack and the crook is sent sprawling backwards into a wall before slumping to the ground like a ragdoll. This beast - your boyfriend - doesn’t stop there, moving with an agility that almost seems unnatural. He pounces forward with a speed that belies his size, taking out more assailants one by one and without restraint. Each attempt on his life is met with devastating retaliation and another nameless body on the ground.

Heart racing, you stand helplessly caught in the grip of the larger thug who has yet to release you. You can only watch in awe and horror as the dark side of your boyfriend further emerges like some fiery reincarnation. It’s as if he’s become something other than himself, a creature of pure rage, driven by a rudimentary wrath that eclipses the calculated fighter you know. Raph’s movements are fierce, but there’s something primal about them, a wildness that feels almost foreign. It’s as if he’s been overtaken by something deeper, something instinctual that drives him to protect.

When there are none left to fight, you call out, “Raph!” your voice breaking through the chaos.

He stalls, sits on pause for just a moment, and his head cranes to the side to face you. That’s when you see it, that’s when it makes sense; his eyes. They hold no shine, nor do they ignite with relief upon realising your presence. Clouded over, ghost white, they are completely and utterly devoid of your Raphael. You think you’ve grounded him, even slightly, but the sound of your voice and your helpless form only torches his fury further.

Those blank eyes stare just to your left and at the thug still holding you. You feel his entire body stutter, hear the gulp in his throat, and a whimper just before he lets go. He runs off with a trip and gets away as fast as he can, being the only one who has managed to flee the area unscathed. You’re weirdly glad for that. In a morbid kind of way, he can hopefully warn others not to ever mess with you guys again.

You gradually tempt yourself to look back at your hulking goliath of a boyfriend. You’ve heard about Raph’s “savage mode” but you’ve never seen it yourself. There’s never been an instance in which it could happen. From the moment you two have been together, you’ve practically been tied at the hip. You don’t want to fear him of all people but you recount stories of this beastly persona, how even his own family have not been entirely safe in the midst of his presence. There’s no telling if you’re in danger right now.

He makes his way towards you and it’s as though you’ve been turned to stone. Worst-case scenarios flood your better judgment to the point that you can’t bear to look. Remaining dead still, you listen closely to his movements, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart in your ears. It sounds like he’s right in front of you and then… behind you? Slowly, you take a peak and turn. He stares off where that last thug had run off, seemingly chalking up whether he should chase after or not. If you had to guess. He appears to decide against it and circles you again. There’s been no move to actively acknowledge you, which you hope is a good sign.

“Raph?” With no idea of what’s going on inside his head, all you can think to say is his name.

He huffs and makes a glance at you, only to return his attention to the room. A strong arm is held out in front of you as he breathes gruffly. His head jerks side to side in case there are any more threats to vanquish but it’s clear to you that they’re all beat. You need to find a way to calm him down so that you two can get out of here. Pronto. He backs up closer to you and lowers himself more. Before you can wonder what he’s doing, he suddenly grabs you and pulls you into his chest, holding you there with one arm.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there, big guy. It’s okay. You got them all.”

Your efforts to lull his antsy behaviour are for nothing. He huffs from his nostrils down at you again and runs off. His grasp on you is secure, strong, and safe like any other instance you’re wrapped up in green muscle. You thank whatever higher forces that even this feral side won’t hurt you but you still need to get your Raph back before anything goes out of control again. You imagine he must be taking you somewhere safe, where is what you’re concerned about. There’s no telling who you may cross paths with and who could get hurt while he’s like this. Granted, the sewers aren’t regularly populated but it would just be your luck if there were workers down here at this time or something.

You keep trying to usher him to calm down but he continues on his quest, running through the maze of sewers. There’s no getting through to him. He only skids to a stop when something clinks around the corner and gets down on all fours minus the arm holding you. The source of the scuffle is nothing more than a group of mice looking for a good meal. Despite the lack of threat, he’s still on edge, body tense and rigid around you. You try to wiggle free of his arm and reach out for his cheek, softly petting the rough skin.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” you calmly usher. “We’re okay.”

He takes in a shuddery breath and shakes his head. There’s a battle in his mind, an instance in which he wavers. Much is clear when his hold loosens. You scramble against the floor and onto your feet, taking a hold of his face before he can straighten himself out or blow up again. There’s a combative roll of his vocals, sounding shot, and his head leans down into your hands. Hunched over like this, he almost looks like a big, wounded dog in need of comfort.

“Raph… keep safe,” he grunts quietly.

Those blank eyes flicker up, a spark of recognition igniting behind them. It’s like watching a storm cloud begin to part, revealing the sun beyond. He’s in there. He’s coming out. Little by little, your soft-hearted giant is trying to return. You smile down at him, hopeful, and softly pull him closer. As you hold him against your chest, you plant a soft kiss on the top of his head. He relaxes into it and gingerly wraps his arms around you.

“I am safe,” you whisper, stroking a hand over his head. “You always keep me safe.”

He hums back lowly. You both stay like this for a moment; the security of his hold around your waist, your fingers delicately caressing his head. You don’t mind how long it takes for him to fully relax. You’ll take all the time in the world if you have to. Though time seems to be on your side when he suddenly gasps loudly. His arms go taut and you hold onto his head, paving a hand over the top of his shell.

“Hey, heyheyhey! It’s okay, I gotcha,” you reassure. “Just breathe.”

His breathing is ragged, each inhale shaky as he processes all of the chaos that unfolded. Raphael can’t piece together what happened. He knows what happened to him to get to where he is right now but he doesn’t know the extent of what he’s done. The echoes of his own growls and the sounds of battle play back in his mind but without any cohesiveness. It’s so terrifyingly frustrating. It’s there and it isn’t. He quickly looks up at you, eyes frantically darting around, then back on you in search of any injuries.

“Where- What happened to- I didn’t-” He swallows hard and trembles against you. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you answer quickly, “you didn’t. You could never.”

You hold onto his face, grounding him as best as you can. The fear still lingers. His chest is still collapsing under every half-breath and stuttered gasp. He can’t bear the thought of hurting you. Even if it isn’t entirely him, he would never- could never forgive himself for such a thing. As he continues to crumble, you know it’s going to take more than words to calm him down.

“Raph, look at me,” you say softly, urging him to focus on you. “I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. I promise.” You kiss his forehead and speak into the skin. “Just breathe, okay? In and out. Just like we practised.”

He nods, albeit slowly, and tries to mirror your breathing. His head hangs low whilst he tries to collect himself. You watch as his body rises and falls, your heart aching more with every pained whimper croaking in his throat. His vulnerability is something you’ve rarely witnessed, reserved for the few times that he’s had night terrors.

Gradually, the frantic energy starts to dissipate. He leans into you, resting his forehead against yours as he tries to regain his composure. You can feel the tension in his muscles begin to ease. His eyes slowly open and he expects to be faced with distress but all he finds is a gentle, sad smile. He only wishes he had the strength to give you one in return. At least he’s gotten a grip on himself now. His nerves are shot but he’s steady again. That’s the main thing.

“There we go. I’m so proud of you.” You softly peck the space between his eyes and smile more assuringly. “Let’s go home now, okay?”

Coming to a slow stand, he breathes out and nods. “Yeah… yeah. Let’s go home.”

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