a furious precision

Are you here to kill me, Ms. Romanoff? Ind. MCU Bruce Banner | 21+ | Selective

[markruffalo-daily]

[viisxon]

@clinicalrage

[clinicalrage-blog]

"So I talked to Jen yesterday... She sent me some stuff I think you might like for tomorrow." Toni had copies of some of Rebecca's Thanksgiving recipes. "Apparently your Aunt had them.."

Bruce leafs through the collection of papers, lips parted in wonder as his fingertips skim over his mother’s loopy handwriting. There’s a note she added to the bottom of her dressing recipe, reminding her that Bruce won’t eat anything with onions and to make half of the pan without them– he can’t recall such a thing, as young as he was, but he smiles now at the record of Rebecca’s efforts to appease him. “These are wonderful,” he tells Toni, hooking an arm around her and kissing her cheek. “Thank you. It’s so nice to see her handwriting again.” 

[yougotthenerve-blog]

@clinicalrage

This guy looked a little on edge. Typical Harlem tourist. Why even come here if you were gonna be nervous about getting mugged by everyone whose skin color was darker than cafe au lait.

“You know, this place ain’t as bad as people make it out to be.”

“You don’t have to look so nervous.”

[clinicalrage-blog]

It was unreasonable to assume he’d even be recognized in civilian garb, much less accosted on the street by random passerby determined to make him atone. It’d been years since the Hulk ran rampant through Harlem, an incident far removed from the life Bruce led now, but he couldn’t suppress his unease. He remained hesitant to look anyone in the eye, wary of encountering someone who’d suffered for his lack of control. 

He started when he was addressed unexpectedly. A wry smile ticked at the corner of his mouth. “Thanks, but it’s not my first time here. Been awhile though,” he murmured, grim, looking past the man down the restored street he’d once demolished. It bore no scars of the Hulk’s rampage now, but Bruce recalled it vividly. He returned his attention to the gentleman who’d spoken to him, endeavoring to sound more casual when he asked, “Know of any good diners on this block?”

[clinicalrage-blog]

♥ - walking in on your muse having sex with someone else

♥: Walking in on your muse having sex with someone else

“Goddammit,” Bruce growled, springing up from the bed like it’d suddenly been electrified beneath him. The brunette that had been bouncing astride his waist was flung aside, strewn over the pillows, and she squeaked as she gathered the sheets to cover herself. Bruce frowned at her before facing Natasha, framed in the light spilling through the open doorway. He reminded himself firmly that he had no cause to feel guilty about her walking in upon such a scene, and aimed for being indignant instead. “You forget how to knock?” 

[clinicalrage-blog]

Ω

Send me a “α” for a starter where my muse is your muse’s alpha. Send me a “Ω” for a starter where my muse is your muse’s omega.

The rest of the team has trickled from the jet and made their way into the tower, but Bruce touches Natasha’s arm, stopping her before she exits onto the landing pad. The danger is over now, the mission complete, but they’d come close to a loss, to the bond between them being severed in a manner most devastating, and Bruce lowers his head into the crook of Natasha’s neck to breath in the reassurance of her scent. “Rough day,” he says into her skin, a mild effort at sounding flippant, but he can’t mask the desperation in his voice when he adds more quietly, “I need you. Please.”

[clinicalrage-blog]

ironinmyspine:

“I don’t know. Ran into him at the store, it was just…” She sighed as she turned the tub on, wanting a hot bath. “He started talking shit, pointing out how much fun I’d be if I could handle fucking Hulk.” She said sourly. “I’m gonna take a hot bath, if you want to come up when you’re done in the lab.” She said quietly. “Just kinda blew my mood for a bit.”

Bruce went quiet again, consumed with thoughts of getting surveillance footage from the store and paying the gentleman a visit if he was so interested in ‘handling’ the Hulk. “He’s garbage, and he’s lucky I wasn’t around. Go ahead and get in the bath,” he encouraged her. “Try to relax and I’ll be up in a minute.”  It wasn’t long thereafter that Bruce appeared in the doorway of the bathroom, smiling at Toni in the low lighting before crossing the room to sit on the edge of the tub. “Hey, sweetheart.” He reached out to touch her damp cheek. “How are you feeling?” 

[clinicalrage-blog]

ironinmyspine:

“Hey, baby… Don’t.. I’m sorry.” She said with a sigh. “I’ll be down in a bit, I just…there was a guy who got a little fresh and I just need some time okay?” She said softly, clutching the phone close. He’d been an asshole, it happened, but she was just a little more sensitive for some reason.

/ @clinicalrage

“Who? What’s his name?’ Bruce demanded at once, voice graveled, and he had to take a moment to settle his flare of violent temper. He cleared his throat hard to dispel the roughness in his tone, breathing deeply in and out until he felt centered enough to speak again. Toni didn’t need him to fight her battles, he knew, but the thought of some other man harassing his fiancee made his fingers itch for blood. “I’m sorry. What happened, honey? Can I do anything for you?” 

[clinicalrage-blog]

lokitheliesmith:

Loki’s free hand darts out as Bruce hollers, casting the room in a blanket of silence just in time to dull the sound. Within this room they could be loud, but outside nobody would hear a thing. The order to change would be disheartening, but that wasn’t why they were here.

“I’m not familiar with his manner in flagrante delicto, but I am sure you will direct where I err.” He grins, glows, and suddenly it’s Tony inside him, inching in and out. “Enjoying yourself down there, big guy?” He asks, in a passable impression, grinning down as he stroked him slowly. “Show me, how much?”

Bruce doesn’t answer at first, enraptured by the transition. He sits up on his elbows, examining Loki’s current guise, certain he’ll find some minor flaw, some missing mark upon Tony’s skin or musculature either too generous or too slight. But no: his body is accurate enough in appearance, though Bruce is sure he could find nuances Loki missed with closer study, the arc reactor’s blue glow dazzling his eyes just the same as it did when it was Tony’s chest hovering about him.  But it’s the face that really sells the experience for Bruce-- Tony’s easy smile, there somehow even when his expression is flat, and the burn of his dark liquid eyes beneath his brow. It’s all there, even though Bruce knows logically it’s still Loki breaching him time and again, and his body tightens down on him in response to the visual stimuli. The vocal impression has him squirming, thrusting in and out of Loki’s disguised hand. “Yes,” he finally admits, a shaky syllable on his tongue, and, with effort, sits up enough to put a hand on Loki’s chest, pushing him back a step until they disengage.  Bruce hops free of the table and crushes into Loki’s mouth with his own, their heights and builds much more comparable with Loki in the current form, and uses the force of their kiss to guide him backwards until his knees hit the edge of a chair. It’s one fluid motion in which Bruce pushes Loki to sit and straddles his thighs, knees on either side of him for leverage. And if he was stubbornly quiet earlier, he lets loose a keening cry now, lowering himself on Loki’s cock and feeling Tony fill him to the hilt instead. 

[clinicalrage-blog]

♘

♘: Getting a drunken kiss from your muse

“Clint,” Bruce said, a soft reproach, but he didn’t fight when his teammate pushed his head back with his own, their lips coming together with disarming tenderness. Even as drunk as he was, Clint seemed ever careful and in control, and Bruce’s eyes closed, wanting to give in. “I…. I don’t think you’re really aware of what you’re doing,” he whispered when he managed to break away, looking up at him with eyes wide. 

[clinicalrage-blog]

arrowsandradiation:

Clint chuckled. “I meant the kissing part. Not the drinking part.” he murmured, not looking up, because that was too bright. “Mm. Who made sunlight this bright? It’s just cruel…”

Bruce laughed and pulled Clint into his chest, urging him to hide his eyes in the fabric of his shirt. His fingers rubbed absently across the back of Clint’s head, kneading his scalp. “The kissing part was good for me,” he said, pecking him on the temple as if in illustration of his claim. “Waking up with you is nice too. Want to head downstairs for coffee, and maybe some aspirin for you?” 

[clinicalrage-blog]

sufferawiitch:

The moment he lifted her from the chair, her legs found their way around his waist, one harm still wrapped around him while the other found its way into peppered hair and formed a small fist around the soft hair. Her head tipped to the side when he found a new place to work at rather than lips to grant him more room. Already a soft and barely audible moan found its way out of her throat; could she really help the fact that everything seemed heightened and arousing?

Wanda’s back met the bed and her grip on him was relinquished. The shawl she so normally wore around her arms having falling in a heap at the end of the bed. Her chest heaved in anticipation and lips forming a small pout to encourage him to go further. One hand moved to grip her dress and move it upwards to show more of her thighs in an attempt to entice him, a visible shudder running up her body when his hand met her breast. 

“When did you become so slow?” she practically whined, the dress being pulled up further to just below her hips while the other grabbed a fistful of the sheets.

Wanda’s efforts to spur him weren’t at all wasted. A low growl rumbled at the base of his throat when she lifted the hem of her dress, revealing the smooth skin of her thighs. He knelt between them at once, hands gliding up the delicate insides, gripping one to hold them apart while his opposite hand rucked over her underwear. “Such an impatient little omega,” Bruce chided her playfully, his grip on her thigh tightening. 

He rubbed at the cotton beneath his palm, the fabric dampening, the moon-blossom musk he’d detected earlier growing more potent on the air. His fingers slipped under the seam of her panties, seeking the copious slick that would ease their initial round of mating. Blood pounded in his ears as his own rut threatened to overwhelm him, and he tore the underwear down her legs less kindly than he intended, lifting her easily to rip away the rest of the clothing that separated her skin from his. He was just as vigorous in casting aside his own garments, taking less than a minute before he was kneeling over her again, hands roughly running down her naked body, his considerable length standing hard and engorged against his stomach. He pressed two fingers into her, testing her elasticity, stretching her open for him while he curled over her to kiss her beckoning mouth.  

[clinicalrage-blog]

A (the fancy a I can't make right now!)

Send me a “α” for a starter where my muse is your muse’s alpha. Send me a “Ω” for a starter where my muse is your muse’s omega.

Tony wasn’t exactly the most obedient omega Bruce could’ve claimed, and he was aware of his mate’s difficult nature long before they first bonded. Bruce was often indulgent of him, but there were certain guidelines he expected Tony to respect, and Bruce’s displeasure was palpable when he found him in his workshop well past three in the morning. “I’ve told you about this,” Bruce said by way of greeting, stopping inside the doorway and pointing to a spot in front of him. “Tony, come here.” 

[clinicalrage-blog]

ironinmyspine:

clinicalrage:

ironinmyspine:

Tony’s breath hitched as Bruce kissed him, offering him a gentle moan before Bruce pulled back. He hated not having his arms free, it meant he couldn’t touch Bruce and he knew it was an effort to put him into the proper mindset. It was still hard though. He swallowed thickly as Bruce touched him, eyes fluttering. “P-please, sir, I…I haven’t touched myself without you.” He promised, trying to show that he did try to listen sometimes. 

“Good,” Bruce said, but provided no further commitment as to what he would or wouldn’t permit by the evening’s end. He crawled atop Tony’s prone body, covering him with his own, providing the skin contact he knew was important to his omega’s comfort. His cock was lined up with Tony’s, his own longer and thicker, made for breeding, and he ground down against him as his mouth found the gland at the crest of Tony’s neck. Bruce pushed his chin back for better access to it, tongue lapping over the heated skin for now. teeth nipping lightly without puncturing just yet. Gentle preparation.  

Bruce barely had to touch him for Tony to respond, hips shifting up against Bruce’s. He bit his lip, over thinking and worrying over what Bruce wanted from him - did he want silence or did he want sound? Tony couldn’t help but whimper as Bruce kissed and teased at his gland. “C-can be better for you, Alpha..” He stammered, trying to beg Bruce into contact. He could already feel his body preparing for his mate, the sweet scent of slick starting to mingle with his pheromones.

Bruce’s laughter rolled softly over Tony’s skin. “Can you?” he asked, letting his full weight descend upon Tony’s body to hold him still, one hand turning Tony’s chin away as Bruce punctured his neck. The scent was overwhelming the moment his incisors pierced the thin patch of skin over the swollen gland, hot and cloying like cloves and syrup on the air. The blood was minimal, thin capillaries tearing, the area beneath his teeth a hotbed of hormones rather than veins. His latch remained in place for several minutes, the tip of his tongue lapping at the skin wrenched into his bite.  Still, Bruce recognized it must be uncomfortable to endure, and as he wasn’t currently in his rut, he was willing to grant his omega some distraction. He ground down over Tony, feeling the gathering slick between his legs as their cocks rubbed together. 

[clinicalrage-blog]

sufferawiitch:

Each kiss was met with a certain degree of eagerness, her teeth at one point lightly biting his lower lip in a sort of tease. It was something the Witch couldn’t really help. He may be the alpha and dominant one but egging someone on was a specialty of hers. Her arms around his neck did tighten, pressing her body closer to his from where she sat, her heart beating a thousand miles an hour like some sort of rabbit.

“You think you are strongest there is?” Wanda mumbled against his lips, “I think Stark is able to take you in suit.” Another tease but he would know she didn’t mean it; Wanda still cared little for the Iron Man and wouldn’t ever say such words with him around. No, she would more than likely end up complimenting Bruce rather than Stark any day.

This time, Wanda was the one to press her lips to his with a passion that could only come from someone in heat. A sense of need came was evident in the kiss.

“Oh, I know I am. Tony? Please,” he said, mouth lowering past her chin to her neck, nipping down the length of it as if in retribution. There was humor in his tone, though. “I’d crush him like a Coke can, and he knows it.”  Empty bravado designed to impress his mate, but still at least half in jest, Bruce favoring her with a wry grin before she sobered him with a kiss that conveyed the growing passion that gathered inside her. Her scent swirled heady on the air, his nostrils flaring as he breathed it in, and he hoisted her up into his arms, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist.  Bruce carried her into the bedroom, one hand threaded in her long hair, mouth worrying at a spot where her jaw sloped toward her ear until he lowered her down upon his bed. Standing back, he took a moment to admire her, laid out and lovely, eyes roving up and down her body before his hands followed their route. She felt warm, almost feverish, even through her clothes. “Beautiful,” he murmured, hand lingering over one breast. 

[thepunisher]

[clinicalrage-blog]

itironman:

― tony + signs of PTSD 

[clinicalrage-blog]

A (the fancy a I can't make right now!)

Send me a “α” for a starter where my muse is your muse’s alpha. Send me a “Ω” for a starter where my muse is your muse’s omega.

Tony wasn’t exactly the most obedient omega Bruce could’ve claimed, and he was aware of his mate’s difficult nature long before they first bonded. Bruce was often indulgent of him, but there were certain guidelines he expected Tony to respect, and Bruce’s displeasure was palpable when he found him in his workshop well past three in the morning. “I’ve told you about this,” Bruce said by way of greeting, stopping inside the doorway and pointing to a spot in front of him. “Tony, come here.” 

[clinicalrage-blog]

ironinmyspine:

Tony’s breath hitched as Bruce kissed him, offering him a gentle moan before Bruce pulled back. He hated not having his arms free, it meant he couldn’t touch Bruce and he knew it was an effort to put him into the proper mindset. It was still hard though. He swallowed thickly as Bruce touched him, eyes fluttering. “P-please, sir, I…I haven’t touched myself without you.” He promised, trying to show that he did try to listen sometimes. 

“Good,” Bruce said, but provided no further commitment as to what he would or wouldn’t permit by the evening’s end. He crawled atop Tony’s prone body, covering him with his own, providing the skin contact he knew was important to his omega’s comfort. His cock was lined up with Tony’s, his own longer and thicker, made for breeding, and he ground down against him as his mouth found the gland at the crest of Tony’s neck. Bruce pushed his chin back for better access to it, tongue lapping over the heated skin for now. teeth nipping lightly without puncturing just yet. Gentle preparation.  

[clinicalrage-blog]

madamxhydra:

「 @clinicalrage​ ⁙ continued 」

        ▴▼▴        “Don’t be cute, naivety doesn’t work for you. ” Viper comments, circling around the scientist, tapping of her heels echoing off the walls of the concrete room. She stops in front of him, reaching a hand out to slip a finger under the man’s chin, lifting his face skyward. “What else could someone want from a brilliant man who turns into the Jolly Green Giant and reaps destruction on everything in his path? ” A smirk pulls at her lips, eyes shining with malice.

His eyes follow her movements until she compels him to meet her gaze. He may be uncertain about her identity, but it’s evident now that she knows exactly whom she’s captured. The corner of Bruce’s mouth quirks, eyes thin and shrewd. “He’s not all that jolly, actually,” he advises, one brow arched. Worry gnaws at him, as always it does when such a threat is presented, but he endeavors to sound detached. “And another problem with your agenda? You’re currently in his path. Trust me, he won’t take orders from you.” 

[clinicalrage-blog]

♘

♘: Getting a drunken kiss from your muse

“Clint,” Bruce said, a soft reproach, but he didn’t fight when his teammate pushed his head back with his own, their lips coming together with disarming tenderness. Even as drunk as he was, Clint seemed ever careful and in control, and Bruce’s eyes closed, wanting to give in. “I…. I don’t think you’re really aware of what you’re doing,” he whispered when he managed to break away, looking up at him with eyes wide. 

[clinicalrage-blog]

arrowsandradiation:

Clint smiles a little, although his eyes are closed, because this is way too bright for him to handle. “Mm.” He makes, nodding softly. “I know.” Theres a pause for a moment, before he opens one eye a little, glancing down at Bruce. “Was that okay for you? If not, I’m really sorry..” He mutters, but since Bruce is still this close, he hopes its good. That Bruce likes this as much as he does.

Bruce sits up in the bed beside Clint, checking the time on his watch and fluffing up his hair with his fingers. He glances toward the window, squinting in the morning sunlight streaming through the curtains. “Of course it’s okay for me. I only had one beer,” he says, his smile light-hearted. “It’s you I was worried about. You were pretty inebriated.” 

[clinicalrage-blog]

♘

♘: Getting a drunken kiss from your muse

“Natasha, wai–” Bruce’s protest was smothered under her mouth, and he was so stunned that he forgot to breathe through his nose while Natasha kissed him, tasting of tequila and vodka and things Bruce couldn’t even identify. He eventually pulled free with a gasp for air, licking his lips and shaking his head at her. “I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

[clinicalrage-blog]

chyornaya-vdova:

“Don’t call me that.” She mumbled slightly annoyed between kisses. After they saved the world she told him and the others to just call her Natasha and she hated reminding them and repeating herself.

Then she kissed and nibbled down his neck again, her hands going lower too and began to unbutton his shirt. When she was done, she practically ripped it away from him and threw it away. While she did that, she sat back, rubbing herself on him.

He was almost in a daze, watching Natasha move above him, until the cool air of the bedroom hit his bare chest, and he realized at once he’d allowed this to go farther than it should have already. “Alright, alright, stop. Natasha, listen,” he implored her, sitting up beneath her and stilling her with his hands cupped around her face. “You’re beautiful, and believe me, I want you just the same as anyone else who’s ever looked at you for more than a second. But this is not going to happen tonight.”  He kissed her mouth, a chaste and conciliatory gesture. “You’re way too far gone to agree to anything right now. Another day, maybe, when you haven’t gotten into Thor’s liquor. If you want, I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”