CW: SPICE, dirty talk- lots, sex, unprotected sex, Thor has a breeding kink (cry about it), talks of pregnancy, pet names, not proof read bc itâs 4AM
MDNI!
You flush as you hear a loud crack of thunder in the distance. You know you should feel embarrassed but the beautiful god in front of you was far too distracting to get caught up in decorum or shame. He was laid back on your large canopy bed, naked, save for a sheet thrown over his lap. You still couldnât believe he was your husband.
Being married to Thor was absolute bliss. You were spending your honeymoon on Asgard and you truly felt like a princess. Every day was filled with delicious food, days by a giant royal pool, and being waited on hand and foot by your husband or one of his spectacular staff. The only problem though, is that you and Thor had been veryâŚ.active, as most newlyweds are. You certainly werenât complaining about that- Thor was a very proficient lover. However, your husband had a bad habit of letting himself go in the heat of the moment, which resulted is dark clouds showing up in the middle of a perfectly sunny day or thunder crackling through the Asgardian sky with no signs of rain.
Thankfully, no one had the nerve to point out such a thing to their king, but you saw the way the maids whispered and made themselves scarce when they heard those unexpected rolls of thunder. You giggle slightly and say, âYouâre doing it again.â
âLet them know. They shall be confident that we have properly consummated our marriage.â Thor replies with a smirk. Asgard was a lot less modest than Earth but you still felt yourself blush at the impropriety of it all. You let your eyes rake over your husbandâs body- perfection. Miles of toned, sculpted skin all for you and you alone.
You donât hesitate when he pats his thigh in invitation, âCome here, wife.â You still couldnât believe it, that title, but you would wear it like a badge of honor. You crawl up the bed to where your husband lay. Truthfully, you hadnât even gotten dressed from your round earlier this morning. You had stayed in bed well past breakfast- touching, kissing, exploring one another. Then you had sat in the bath, relaxing and soaking up these days with your husband.
You crawl into his lap and let out a small wince. Truth be told, you had been keeping up surprisingly well, him being a God and all- but you had definitely begun to feel sore. Nothing horrible, just an occasional low ache. However, when your husband grabbed your nape and drug you in for a kiss, you supposed you could handle another round.
âLet them hear you, beautiful wife.â He said, as he slid slowly inside you. There was no need to warm you back up because you truly hadnât given each other time to cool down. You gasp at the size of him, even though you should be used to it by now.
He gently cradles you and rolls you over so that he was on top of you. He had recognized your soreness and decided having you ride him at such an angle would not help your condition. He thrust into you, slow and steady at first, letting you adjust.
Your back arches off the mattress. The fullness felt divine and you let out a whine, âOh, God-â your statement is cut short by a particularly hard snap of Thors hips, stuffing you fuller than before.
âThe only god to cry out to right now is me. What is it, little bird? Make your petitions known.â He says, thrusting harder and deeper now. Your eyes roll at the way he speaks to you, voice rough and low. You bite your lip as you relish in this feeling.
âMore, more please.â You say, answering his request. You were so sensitive, you knew you didnât stand a chance, already feeling that tightening in the base of your belly. Thor answer by slipping a hand between your thighs, touching you expertly like he always did.
âI-ah-â you feel your back arch hard before you feel yourself
come crashing back down, pleasure falling over you in waves.
You ride out your climax, blissed out when you murmur, âWant you to cum too.â You pout up at your husband.
âOh? You want me to fill your womb, my love? Make sure you bare many-â a hard thrust, âmany, of my heirs?â He says and you can tell the thought almost does him in. When you whine and nod in the affirmative, he pushes into you almost impossibly, painfully deep as he finishes inside you. His large body laid over you, both of you sucking in ragged breathes. In the silence, you hear a familiar sound and when you peek out towards the windowâŚ
It was pouring rain- an all out thunderstorm. You giggle to yourself, knowing there had been no rain predicted for today. âOur poor people.â You said, smiling up at your husband.
âDonât worry, love. They will be fine. Especially when you bring forth a beautiful new heir for them to adore.â He says, smiling wickedly. He presses another crushing kiss to your lips and you canât help but smile. You liked the sound of that.
Summary: When Peter and Reader come back from a brutal mission, they drink to try and forget the horrors. Tony finds them and comforts them. (a dash of Iron dad)
Word Count: 1.9k
Characters: Reader, Peter Parker, Tony Stark
CW: Mentions of alcohol, mentions of drunkenness, characters are drunk, drinking to forget, mentions of battle, battle trauma, angst, but angst with comfort, reader thinks Peter is pretty, crying, hugging, egregious use of commas and dashes, not proofread!
You and Peter were laughing so hard you were crying. You had snuck out onto the fire escape of the tower and had smuggled some of Starks very fine scotch with you. You guys had almost drained another full bottle, and were now fairly wasted. While you and Peter had been very, very sneaky, youâd forgotten there was an AI snitch that would rat you out to Tony.
Todayâs mission had kicked you both in the teeth. It was full of hard choices and while you saved many, you canât always save them all. The casualties pressed hard on your heart and you knew Peter felt the same pressing guilt. What kind of heroes were you when you couldnât stop it all? Were you even heroes if innocent bystanders still died? Were you just as bad as the villains you fought-
And that train of thought was exactly why you and Peter had decided to try your best to forget todayâs events. You were freshly 21 and Peter was 22 so you were both fairly new to drinking, but you figured today was a good a time as any. The alcohol melted in your mouth and soothed your bones. Itâs like warm fire has been gently poured down your throat and the warmth radiated over your muscles into your mind, taking away the crushing guilt. You looked at Peter and smiled. He was devastatingly handsome- always, but right now with his eyes a little glassy and his face flushed from the alcohol, he looked unreal. Wow, that was the alcohol taking over your eyeballs. You two had only ever been friends, teammates, but you also werenât blind. Right now, Peter looked absolutely, unfairly beautiful. You burst into a fit of giggles after looking at him, simply overcome by booze and beauty. Peter started laughing again too, just because you were.
This-this was good. This was better than whatever train-wreck today was. Peter took another long swallow of scotch, draining the bottle. You knew his body worked differently than yours and he was drinking triple the amount you were just to feel any buzz at all. You bite the inside of my cheek as you watched him slowly lick his lips, savoring the flavor.
âThis was- brilliant,â he said, his voice a little rough from todayâs mission and the burn of the alcohol. He gave a drunken smirk and he stared up at the sky, the stars shining so brightly, so beautifully.
âI agree,â you said, closing your eyes as you laid back, looking at the sky, same as Peter. You let yourself sink into the feeling. Your brain was a quiet- a slow, syrupy pool. It felt like the racing anxious thoughts that had been plaguing you were simply trapped under a thick layer of liquor. This was good. âIf I had known this is what alcohol did, I probably would have started a lot sooner.â You said with a little laugh, relaxed and happy. No flashbacks, no endless loops of destruction just- silence, at least for now.
Peter popped the lid off another bottle and gave a slow pull, then handed it to you. You took a small sip, knowing you were already pretty far gone and that your body didnât burn it off nearly as fast as his. Tomorrow, he would probably wake up unfazed but you would wake up hating the world with a massive hangover-or at least you assumed. Youâd never drank like this before.
Meanwhile, Tony was searching for you both in the tower, his own anxiety spiking every time he entered a room and couldnât find either of you. He felt his arm doing that weird tingly thing it did when he got stressed. After finding yet another room empty he asked, âJarvis, where are they?â He didnât even have to elaborate. He always checked on you two and the AI knew that.
âI believe they are on the fire escape, sir.â JARVIS answered shortly.
âFire escape-they arenât doing any kind of hanky panky or anything I donât want to walk out on?â He said, cringing at the idea. He knew you were just friends but he also knew you were both young adults who had just experienced a high level of trauma together, so who knew what you were up to.
âI believe notâ Jarvis said, even though there werenât cameras on the fire escape (which is why the two of you had picked it).
âIf I walk away traumatized, Iâm blaming you.â Tony said to the robot, before walking towards one of the far exits of the tower. He was surprised the two of you made it up there, it wasnât necessarily an easy spot to get to. He eventually got to the window connected to the landing and stopped just briefly, trying to brace himself. He wasnât good at this, the emotions part, but you and Peter mattered to him, more than he wanted to admit. You were also still just kids in his eyes and today-today had been hard even for him, and he has seen almost everything. He took a deep breath before knocking on the window. âYouâve got three seconds to get decent.â He said, laughing a bit to himself.
You and Peter jolted up from the spot youâd been lying in, panicked. He wasnât supposed to find the two of you.! Jarvis, you groaned internally. âHide those!â you say, motioning to the three bottles of alcohol that were at different stages of emptiness. Peter attempted to hide them behind his back but just as he was shoving them, the window popped open. You both cringed, hoping maybe he just wouldnât notice the bottlesâŚor the way you both looked. You both tried to act normal- sober, as he joined you on the small landing.
âYou two look way too guilty for my likingâ He says instantly and you and Peter share a panicked glare, not sure what to say to cover for yourselves.
You start,â We were just-â
âsleeping!â Peter cuts in, and you want to slap your own forehead at the lie. It screams guilt. But then, you catch Peterâs eye and you both start giggling, still tipsy and now the fact he had just made up a terrible lie was hysterical to you.
âAre you twoâŚdrunk?â Tony said, caught off guard by your abrupt giggle-fest. âWhat the-â He said as Peter leaned over laughing, exposing the bottles behind his back. âHow the hell did you get that?â He asked, a little outraged and mostly concerned.
You point at Peter like a school yard snitch and giggle hysterically. âHe figured out the lock-thingyâ
âThat âthingyâ was a very high-tech bio scanner.â Tony said through gritted teeth. âand this- this was $600 dollar bottle of whiskey!â He chides, holding up one of your many empty bottles.
âOh my gosh.â Peter says, eyes going wide. âWe areâŚThieves!â He blurts, before falling into another fit of laughter.
âYep, total criminalsâ Tony replies with an eye roll. He wasnât really mad about the alcohol; he seldom drank anyway, usually just with higher-ups as a formality. He watched you both, really watched. He saw the scrape across one of your cheeks and the slight shake to Peterâs leg. You both looked so young yet so exhausted. His heart broke a little at the thought. You were still children compared to the rest of the team and he couldnât imagine how you two were feeling under the crushing responsibility. He shifted into a serious tone once you two finally stopped giggling. âWhat happened?â
Neither of you respond at first, just looking at each other. The reminder of today and his strict tone felt like a bucket of ice water.
âWe- we didnât save everyone.â Peter says, breaking the silence but still looking down, picking at some peeling paint on the fire escape. Tears prick your eyes- you had finally felt better and now, now you felt like you were being hit by an emotional train.
âThey were right there and I-I wasnât fast enough.â You said, voice breaking pitifully as you curl up, pushing your head into my knees.
Tony slowly moved himself into a sitting position next to you, no longer just hanging out the window.
âSo this,â he motions to the bottles littering the fire escape, âwasnât just about stealing alcohol to get drunk.â
You donât have any words, You just shake your head ânoâ and Peter does the same.
âI know you want to numb it all but, tomorrow you will still hurt.â He says, gently putting a hand on Peterâs knee who had cringed at the harshness.
You pout and say âNo, it helped!â
âYeah, for an hour. But this- it doesnât fix anything. Trust me.â He said, images of his own dad, taking sip after sip, getting meaner by the minute. âIt makes you think it does, but it doesnât.â He says, in the most sincere tone youâve ever heard. You donât realize it until you feel a tear drip onto your hand- youâre crying. You sniffle, trying to stop, needing it to stop.
âI donât care if itâs three in the morning. I donât care if you think it will bother me. I donât care if Iâm in the lab- when- when the missions break something in you, you come to me. Not my bottles, not my cans, you come to me.â He says, conviction heavy in his tone. You and Peter both sit, silence heavy before you move and practically fall into Tonyâs chest. Tears still burn your eyes. You donât say anything, you just stay there, face pressed into him. For you, the words wonât come but the touch, the presence, is helping: stitching back those tears in my heart.
Peter though, is a little more hesitant, his meticulous brain not letting him let go yet. âWhat if we canât talk about it?â
âThen we donât talk.â Tony says, never hesitating.
âWell then want do we do?â Peter says, and you know he is making that face he always makes when he is thinking, that little crease forming in his brows.
âThen we sit. Watch a movie, eat a bowl of cereal. You cry, you yell, you nap but this-â he says, gingerly reaching around you to hold up a bottle, âNot this. You donât try to forget, you cope.â He says, firmly, not punishingly, but in a tone that tells you he means it. âIâm not watching either of you go down that roadâ he adds, so softly itâs barely a whisper. That breaks Peter and he curls into Tonyâs other side, him pulling us both into a hug so tight we can hardly breathe butâŚit helps.
The pain, the sorrow, the shame, itâs still there, like a hole in your heart but this, this steady presence makes it feel like itâs not so heavy, like itâs not going to kill you. Silence stretches between you and there is no telling how long you sit there, just comforted in the silence. Once the tears finally dry and the tension eases Tony says, âBy the way youâre both grounded.â
You and Peter groan. âyouâre kidding.â You say, pulling back to look him in the eyes.
âNope. and Iâm already working on a power point in my head, just in case this lecture didnât stick.â You and Peter both shake your heads and groan but then-
you start to laugh. Not from the alcohol, or hysteria, but genuine bright laughter.
Today was awful, and you will
probably always remember it. But you will also remember this, and this, makes it feel like maybe you can carry it: together.
Fanfic curse tried to catch me today guys 𫪠I had to drive home during an allergic reaction, literally covered in hives and struggling to breathe and then I got caught in a flash flood âď¸
Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader (pre-established relationship)
A/N: Better late than never- HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY!
This was inspired by a comment I saw in a tiktok comment section-
P.S. I'm ovulating so- apologies in advance. ;)
CW: just a drabble so a little short-diabolical spice ahead. rough sex, dirty talking, reuniting after long mission, inappropriate use of shield?, Steve is a big boy, fem reader, not proofread, mentions of past injury for reader
The knock at the door had you on edge. It was well past a reasonable time for company and you hadn't been expecting anyone. Your eyes flit to what's closest to the front door, and anything you can use to protect myself if opening the door goes south. You silently pad your way to the front, sporting a huge Captain America shirt that falls to your thighs. You take a deep breathe before opening the door and...
Before you have time to register what is happening, you am crushed into a giant hug. It's Steve, he's home. It takes a few minutes for the adrenaline to step aside before you properly hug him back. He had been gone for ages- two weeks and 4 days to be exact. You feel tears prick your eyes as you nuzzle in closer. You had missed him so, so much but you hadn't expected him back for another few days. You look up at him to say "I missed you," "I'm glad youâre safe," "You scared me to death"-anything but you are met with a crushing kiss. Youâre slowly pressed up against the inside of the front door, hearing it close with a click. He kisses me deeply and you can feel the words he isn't saying: he missed me too.
When he finally gives me a chance to breath you say, "What are you doing here? I thought I was supposed to meet you at the tower on Friday?" We didn't come to my apartment often, in fact, Steve had only been here one other time. You both had rooms at the tower and that is where most of your time was spent. You had been recovering from an injury that kept you out of the latest mission, which is the only reason you had been staying here instead. You realize Steve is still in his suit and his shield is still strapped to his back- he must've walked straight off the Quinn Jet and straight to his car to come here. Not that you were complaining, the suit did wonders on his already perfect body. You preen at the fact he couldn't wait a moment longer to see you, because that is how you always felt about him too.
"We were able to wrap up early. There was no need to drag the mission out anymore, not when I have a pretty girl sitting at home waiting on me." Cap says, pressing another kiss, but this one to your forehead. You blush furiously, realizing just how long it had been since he held you, touched you. You flush even more when he tilts his head, smirking at you. He had heard your heart beat kick up, curse him and that super soldier hearing-
Next thing you know, your feet are off the ground as Steve hauls you up and carries you back towards your room. Anxiety prickles in the back of your mind because you and Steve had never done anything like that here. You weren't sure that the hand-me-down full size bed would provide enough space for the two of you. Before you can protest though, you back meets the mattress and Steve is grinning down at you.
"I missed you. I missed you so much I couldn't wait for you to get to the tower. I need you darlin'" He says, punctuating his sentences with kisses up your leg, staring near your ankle and working his way up, up, up....
You quickly tug his hair and pull him up for another kiss, this one deeper, more sensual as he trails a hand under your oversized t-shirt. He leaves it on but when he reaches your underwear and slowly gives them a tug down. You gasp when he gently thrusts against you, feeling him, feeling how much he wants you-needs you. "Please." You let out, a plea and a command and a whine all at once.
Everything is a blur from there, kisses, bites, skin-you are both starving, desperate. Steve was incredible, and you could tell the pent up energy was starting to get to him. He was going hard, rougher that usual and you would be lying if you said you weren't enjoying yourself. Steve gives a particularly delicious thrust you hear the bed make a cracking sound that has you both freezing. Shame paints your face, a little embarrassed. Steve decides to ignore it, thrusting again, hard, deep-
Crack!
Steve looks flustered and frustrated, before quickly smiling to himself. "Wait here doll, just a second- be right back." He says soothingly when you whine at his withdrawal. You feel the euphoria wearing off as you wait for him to come back, your mind starting to race about what in the world he could be doing.
But oh gods was it worth it when you see Steve, America's golden boy, lean in your door frame, naked as the day he was born, with his shield in one hand and a devious smirk on his face. You lay there, drinking him in, broad shoulders, delicious abs, his long, hard-
"I had an idea." He says, grinning even more at your hungry gaze. He walks over to you, pressing a quick kiss to your thigh. Then he kneels down and pops your mattress up like it weighs nothing. He props it up just enough to slide his shield in between the slats of the bed and the mattress, before laying you and the mattress back down. "Impact absorption" He says, grinning wickedly. You give the bed a little test bounce, and- nothing, no cracks, no creaks. Steve looks up at you with a satisfied smirk before coming back up to lay over you. "Now...Where were we?"
CW: all fluff, pet names, food mentions, the boys are obsessed with your tan lines (no skin color mentioned, but the tanlines are mentioned lots), just lots of flirting and fluff, short piece- sorry
Remus x Reader x Sirius
You wake to sun light pushing through your curtains. You stretch and let out a sigh as you roll over in the bed. You were on summer break from uni finally and were currently enjoying your summer at, what used to be, the Black family lake house. Sirius mentioned the place to you and Remus last summer and you enthusiastically agreed to the idea of having a place for the three of you to have that you could call home. While you finished your last year of uni and Remus wrapped up his year of teaching, Sirius spent his time bringing life back into the house and wiping away the disastrous memories that dimmed the place for far too long. Your days were spent tanning on the dock, which was completely private. You lounged in the sun until you couldnât stand it and had to jump into the water to cool off.
You roll out of bed and select a strapless bikini. Your shoulders and back were covered in different lighter lines and you were hoping to level them out in todayâs tanning session. Bounding down the stairs, you are blessed with the smell of breakfast being made. Sure- there were plenty of times you did things like cooking and cleaning but it was never expected or forced upon you and you admired your boys for that. None of you were necessarily morning people but Remus could usually rouse himself with the thought of coffee, so you arenât surprised when you round the corner and see itâs him frying up pancakes- chocolate chip, to be exact.
âMorning,â you say with a smile as you make your way into the kitchen to watch Remus at work. Sirius is already at one of the bar stools and yanks you into his arms, pulling your back against his chest. Kisses are pressed to your shoulders in rapid succession, forcing a giggle out of you.
âHey, stop that, it tickles!â You squeak out, to no avail. He continues kissing all over your back and shoulder. It wasnât unusual for Sirius to shower you with affection, but the placement of his kisses was rather odd. However, you choose to ignore it.
âMorning bun, sleep well?â Sirius asks, resting his head on your shoulder as he holds you close. His voice is still soft and gravely and you know he probably only woke up moments before you. You nod in the affirmative before you scoot yourself onto the barstool he is on, practically melting into his lap. A happy sigh escapes you as the two of you watch Remus work.
When he gets to a point he can walk away from the stove, Remus comes over to you and places a kiss on your forehead, before returning to cooking. âGood morning, lovely.â He says in that soft voice he always uses and you feel a blush tint your cheeks. A few moments of silence pass before he speaks again.âIf you want to lay out today, please wear sunscreen. The weather says it will be very hot and I donât want you frying yourself.â The last few pancakes are plated up as he speaks. You flush at the attention. Obviously you were in a swimsuit, so itâs not like your plans were a secret, but the attention he puts into taking care of you never ceased to make you feel like the happiest person in the world.
âYes sirâ You reply with a sassy wink and bump of the hip as you all take your plates to the table. Remus raises an eyebrow at your choice of words and it causes you to grin. You all eat in comfortable silence until you simply canât take it anymore.
âSirius, if you stare at me any longer, youâre going to burn a hole through me.â You say jokingly but with a very no nonsense tone.
âI am not staring- I am admiring.â He states, not at all embarrassed by the fact you called him out. Then again, Sirius never really got embarrassed. He openly checked you out often, and was never shy about complementing you.
âI appreciate your admiration, but Iâm fairly sure youâve seen my shoulders before today.â You say, smiling as you poke at him, knowing he has seen far more than that.
âIâm admiring the craftsmanship.â he adds, smiling into his mug as he sips his coffee, which consists of more sugar than anything. He says it so matter of fact, and that only adds to your confusion. You tilt your head and squint, hoping he will elaborate.
âThe lines dovey, look at them. So precise, so pale. Like the sun herself took out a ruler,â he says, using hand motions to articulate and smiling all the while.
Your coffee nearly comes through your nose when you finally realize he has been looking at your tan lines. Of all things!
âHe spent 20 minutes yesterday trying to decipher the width of your different bikini straps and how long you have to sit out in order to get a line.â Remus says, never looking up from the newspaper laid out on his side of the table, but smirking as he snitches on Sirius.
Your jaw drops as you whip your head to Sirius, âThere is no way thatâs true! Itâs just a tan line!â
âItâs not âjustâ anything. Itâs the suns gift to me and I am eternally grateful.â He says and while you are still both smiling, you realize he is very serious.
âWeâll get a good long look at them, because the goal today is to not have any more strappy lines.â You say, wiggling your shoulders as you do to emphasize that this top doesnât have any straps. You take another bite of pancake and after a few moments of complete silence, you look back to Sirius.
He looks murderous.
âNo way, absolutely not. Go change- nowâ He says, positively outraged. He tries to use his bossy voice but the effect is lost on you. You shake your head, laughing at the absurdity of it all.
âHeâs not joking love, he has spent the last three days talking about how we could get a paw print tan-line on you.â Remus says, sipping his coffee as you feel his eyes flit over your chest. You realize your lines havenât escaped his notice either.
âYou two are ridiculous!â You say, crossing your arms but flushing at the attention you are getting. You like the idea of having them so enamored over something so meaningless, so innocent! It was fun to rile them up without even trying.
âGo put on a different top and I will be your personal pool boy for the dayâ Sirius says, partially bowing to show his service.
âNow I do like the sound of that.â You say, feigning consideration as you tap you chin in thought.
âThe purple one.â Remus says, never even looking up from his reading. When neither of you respond he looks up and adds, âYour purple swimsuit. I like the way it ties high on your neck and leaves lines that I can see, even with a shirt on.â He says it as if it was the most obvious statement in the world. Again, his attention has you falling for him all over again. The look on both of their faces makes the decision for you.
âFine, I guess I can go change. But I expect a nice cold drink by my tanning chair when I get back.â You say to Sirius, pointing at him.
Summary: you two got snowed in on your way back from a mission. Letâs just say, tension grows the more the two of you are locked into a tiny cabin. When temperatures bottom out, things donât cool down, they heat up.
Word Count: 2.4k
CW: This is straight up raunchy at the end. Flirty, flirty Steve, spice, dirty talk, lumberjack Steve â¤ď¸ Yeah itâs smut, donât read if you donât want to
Not really proofread- sorry
Today marked day 5 of being trapped in a cabin, in the middle of nowhere. As far as safe houses go, this one was quaint and safe. You were actually excited to stay here until you woke up in the morning you were meant to be leaving and realized you canât even open the door due to the mounds of snow blockading it. Which means you would be trapped here- with no idea of how long. To make matters worse, you were stuck with the only other person who had been on the mission with you, Steve.
The first two days were a breeze. You mostly slept, and let your body recover from the physically demanding mission you were returning from. Steve slept too, but while you slept in the living room near the fire, he slept in a bedroom towards the rear of the house. You two settled into a routine. Every morning you would hear Steve slowly getting ready, way too early in the morning. However, you would feign sleep until you heard the back door click shut. You would stretch, toss on one of the sweaters you found in the closet, and fix a cup of coffee. You would be lying if you said you hadnât enjoyed the break. Nothing existed here, no outside stress or responsibilities, just sit and wait out the snow. You had always loved snow days growing up, and you felt your heart give a nostalgic twinge every-time you woke up near the fire place, before you fully remembered where you were.
On day three, you took your cup of coffee to the window. Luckily Steve had managed to get out the back door of the house every morning to gather wood so you wouldnât freeze to death. You peak out the window and you nearly drop your full mug.
Steve wasnât just going to the barn to collect it, no he was fully embracing the mountain energy and doing his best to look like a true lumberjack. You felt yourself lean even closer to the icy window as you watched the muscles in his back and arms flex and relax, flex and relax. Every swing felt like some kind of mini porno and you quickly pull back when you realize youâre fogging up the glass.
Embarrassment flames across your face and you know you must be blushing an obscene shade of pink. You quickly scurry back to your spot on the couch to collect yourself. You try to think reasonably.
Itâs okay, itâs okay. Men who are lumberjacks are objectively hot. Itâs okay that you found him hot, while he was doing a hot task. It doesnât mean youâre attracted to him or anything- no, of course not. It just means-
âEnjoying yourself?â You hear Steveâs voice cut through your inner monologue and you jump hard enough to have a little hot coffee splash onto your bare leg. You yelp slightly at the feeling. You were in the aforementioned borrowed sweater and a pair of pajama shorts you had packed. You were now really wishing you had packed sweatpants or something that left you feeling lessâŚ.exposed. Steve has mercy on your flustered state and says, âDo you do this at home? Every morning I find you in the same spot, curled up with a cup of coffee. I feel like Iâve never even seen you drink coffee at the tower.â
You blush a little at the observation. âEverything is just, slower here. At home everything is always racing by, but here- here I feel like I can sit and just breathe.â You realize that was a lot of information for a simple question and you quickly coverup your vulnerability by tacking on, âPlus, itâs warm, and you know, its freezing outside so, it helps.â
Steve nods in consideration, heading toward the fireplace. He adds in fresh wood and tends the fire but when he is done, he doesnât turn away, he turns towards you. You feel his eyes rake over your legs which are propped on the coffee table. You have on fuzzy socks, then lots of bare leg until the short ruffle of your shorts.
âDidnât you bring any pants?â His voice comes out a little biting and it shocks you for a second. Steve wasnât usually one to snip at anyone.
âUmâŚno. Iâm sorry, I didnât know what the weather would be and Iâm not really a pajama person-â You answer before realizing the meaning of your words and you feel your heart practically stop in your chest. You want to correct yourself, you want to take back the words. You are trying to think of a way to back pedal from the fact you just admitted to usually sleeping naked, when Steve lets out a small laugh and saying:
âThatâs okay, neither am I.â
And with that, he walks out of the living room, back towards his bedroom and all you can do is stare as you let those words ring out in your brain.
What in the world just happened?
That was two days ago and you would be lying if you said you hadnât spent the past two morning at the window, watching Steven chop wood. Then you would sprint back to the couch when you realized he was walking back toward the house. Things had beenâŚweird ever since the pajama incident. Itâs like everything you said you tried to screen before hand to make sure it didnât come out dirty or an innuendo. You are lost in thought when Steve comes into the living room.
âI have some bad news. Radio says tonight will be the coldest night yet. I think I have cut enough wood but itâs supposed to get to -15 degrees.â Steve says as he unloads a large load of wood in the corner. âYou may want to find something more blankets.â Is all he says before heading back out into the snow.
A few hours later and Steve was right-it was freezing. You are on the floor, as close to the fire as possible, teeth chattering and shivering. You have no idea how you will get to sleep when you hear a large thud behind you. Steve has tossed a large pile of blankets on the floor before commenting âI can hear your teeth chattering from back in my room. Figure you could use a few more of these.â
You are about to thank him when he sits down next to you. That causes your thoughts to change quickly. âWh-what are you doing?â You ask, not trying to be rude but also confused.
âMy room is an icebox darling, surely you can share the fire. I wonât sleep on the couch with you donât worry, I will sleep here on the floor.â Steve says jokingly but there is a tone to his voice that lets you know he really wonât sleep in here if you arenât comfortable.
âI can sleep on the floor! I donât mind.â You say, sure that he would likely be more comfortable on the couch.
âYou trying to sleep with me doll? You can just ask.â He says with a wicked smile and oh- he looks so beautiful. Itâs the charming, golden boy smile that makes your heart all our flutter, and the lilt of mischief has you positively burning up.
âI-that is not- I just meant-â but before you can explain, a large hand has reached over and grabbed your thigh, stopping you in your tracks.
âIâm just teasing. Besides I canât let a pretty girl sleep on the floor, it would be un-chivalrous.â he says, patting your leg in reassurance, âThat is, of course, unless you are wanting to share body heat.â He says and he winks at you. What has gotten into him?? This golden boy, who doesnât even swear is not looking at you like he wants to positively devour you.
Your face feels so warm that you scoot back a bit from the fire, but you try and deflect by saying âuh-oh Captain, I think youâre getting cabin fever. It must be getting to your head.â you say. You plan to place your hand on his forehead and pretend to take his temperature, when his large hand encircles your wrist.
He lets out on a low, gritty tone, âI assure you, I am perfectly clear headed.â There is a silence. A look shared between the two of you. The words hang in the air, weighing on the two of you. But then the moment breaks-
And he is on you in mere moments.
His lips are unapologetic. He places on hand on your face and the other holds him up above you. He lets his fingers thread into your hair, pulling your face closer. Itâs hungry, itâs desperate, itâs so different than who he usually is. He borderline growls when you bite his bottom lip and it sends a shiver down your spine. He watches your reaction before pulling your hair, guiding his mouth to your ear. âYou like when Iâm a little rough with you?â He asks and though his tone is hard, he also pauses for a moment, looking into your face, genuinely looking for an answer.
You are speechless, flushed from the kiss and the sweater that now feels entirely too warm. You settle for a nod and he yanks your hair, tilting your head back, exposing your neck before grounding out, âUse your words.â
You manage to squeak out a small âYes, yes I do.â in between your ragged breathes. He smirks at your obedience before crafting into your lips again.
He kisses you for what feels like ages, like heâs been starved. Every moment from the last few days replays in your head. Every little touch, every little comment, every lingering look,all of it rushes over you and you realize youâve been doing the same to him.
You are lost in the kiss, in the feeling, deep in your own head but that comes to a halt when you feel a warm hand sneak under your shirt and touch the icy skin of your stomach. You gasp at the feeling and look up at Steve.
âYouâve been torturing me in these little things you call shorts.â He says, dipping his fingers below the waist line in the front, causing you to shiver. âI think itâs time we get rid of them.â He goes from gentle to super soldier at lightning speed. One minute your shorts are on, the next your shorts have been ripped off and Steve stares, shocked at your bareness. You squirm under his gaze but before you can be nervous he goes, âYouâre not a pj girl. Not a panties girl either?â he asks taking you in. You giggle and shake your head no. âYou are gonna be the death of me.â He says, before quickly shoving your legs apart and taking in the sight of you. He lowers his face down, lower and lower until I can feel his breath on me. I gasp but just before he makes contact I push him back. The effort is futile, considering he is much stronger than me but it does give him pause.
He looks up at me and I flush under his gaze. âYou-you donât have to do that.â I breathe out, wishing I could escape his gaze for a moment, just to catch my breath.
Once he realizes that you are being shy, and itâs not a consent problem, he smiles up at you. âI like things done right, doll. That means taking my time, making you feel good, getting you ready for me.â He smirks and then he gives a long lick to my core and your brain short circuits. You feel your back arch off the ground and an embarrassing little sound leaves you. You can feel Steve smiling against you at that. He laps at you like a man starved.
âTake a deep breath, baby.â You comply before you even realize why. Then you feel a finger stretch you out and you immediately let out a breathy moan. âGood girl, you can take it.â He says as another finger joins in, stretching you deliciously. You are lost in the pleasure. Steve watches for every reaction and has you writhing in a matter of minutes. Just as you feel yourself about to combust, Steve pulls away. A whine escapes you which he responds to by placing a quick kiss to your thigh, then pulling back.
Watching his undress was probably the hottest thing youâve ever seen. Inch after inch of toned muscle reveals itself and you wonder if he is even real. He is so beautiful you can hardly decide where to look. When he pulls down his boxers, you realize why he emphasized getting you ready.
Sure, you knew Steve has been enhanced but this- this was another level. He was huge. He was the audacity to smirk at you while you take him in, looking all too proud of himself.
Nerves prickle the back of your neck. Sure you werenât a virgin, but it had been a long time since youâd been with someone. This felt like going from zero to 100 awfully quick. Steve is back on top of you in a moments notice, cupping your face. âI wonât hurt you doll, I promise. We can take it nice and easy, however you want it.â
It hurts at first. You feel like you are being ripped in half- but then oh. Oh.
Your eyes roll into your head and you grind down hard, needing this, needing him. âEasy darling, slow remember?â He groans out, looking ragged from self restraint.
âI donât want soft.â You blurt, desperate. You watch his face change and suddenly he is no longer the sweet gentleman you know. No, this is different. The days of pent up energy take control and he thrusts like he canât help it. He watches you and angles himself to hit the spot that has you shaking. âCome on pretty girl, I wanna see you fall apart on me.â
And with that you are undone. you swear you see stars and you feel him right behind you, burying himself as deep as he can.
You both lie there, panting, sweating in front of the fire place. You catch your breath before you hear Steve say, âAre you warmer now?â
You laugh and you silently are grateful that the snow doesnât seem to be going anywhere. Maybe a few more days here wouldnât be so bad.
Pt 2 to âStuck in the Middleâ (read that first! my master list is pinned đ)
Who: Stucky - Steve Rodgers and Bucky Barnes x Teacher!Reader (there was reference to her having a âteacher voiceâ in Part 1 so Iâm running with that)
Word Count: 1.4k
TW: angst, angst with comfort, fmc has a hard day, crying, pinching, slight slight d/s vibes at the very end, heavy flirting at the end, mostly fluff, also they are all in love, poly!relationship
I come through the door absolutely wiped out. I would love to be bubbly and flirty, especially because of the new âtrial periodâ I agreed to. However, todayâs class drained me. Trying to teach English to a class of 25 middle schoolers that care nothing about writing or reading was hard. Today was especially hard because I had to break up two physical fights, 3 kids had to leave class with the stomach bug and I sacrificed my lunch period to help a fellow teacher staple together packets. I was starving and completely overstimulated. I even cringe internally at the idea of having to entertain two men, instead of one. Bucky new some days you came home from the middle school a wreck and he would work hard to keep the evening low stimulation and make all the decision he could for me.
Would Steve understand that?
I toe off my boots and place them neatly into the cubby near the door, which now held two very different sets of men shoes. It was funny how even the small things in the apartment sent a little thrill through me and served as little reminders of this new deal. I grin slightly to myself as I set my very large teacher bag and lunchbox on their respective hooks before heading down the hallway, into the main area.
I see Bucky and Steve playing some kind of old card game at the table. I wish I could sit and silently observe them but their super serum hearing allowed them to know exactly when I rounded the corner.
I am met with warm smiles from both of them. Itâs so sweet and I want to return them, but the moment I see Bucky I break. Today had been so hard in class. I loved my students with all my heart but some days, taking care of so many little humans was so draining. I want to smile back with my whole heart but instead my eyes start stinging in the most embarrassing way and I quickly cross the kitchen to Bucky, who sees my face and is waiting with open arms.
âOh doll,â he says softly, pulling me into his lap, âHard day?â Bucky knows I hate crying, and I especially hate crying in front of other people, so he ensures my face is safely hidden in his chest.
âThe worst.â I pout pitifully, as he pulls me even closer and a few silent tears stain his shirt. I then instantly remember Oh my God, Steve is here and this is so embarrassing. With lightning speed I decide to flip off the âpity party switchâ and flip on the âself-neglecting, people pleasing one.â I push hard off of Buckyâs chest. I swipe my eyes quickly and force a smile.
âAnyways,â I say with a final sniffle, âWhat do you two want for dinner? Did you look at the list on the fridge of the options I can make? I-â
âDoll,â Buckyâs firm tone cuts my rambling off instantly and causes me to freeze in my tracks. âCome back here.â His voice is quiet, almost a whisper, and that makes it even more scary than if he were to raise his voice.
âNo, seriously Iâm fine!â I say with my forced cheer, which is a painful contradiction to my tear stained cheeks. âSo what will it be? I can do spaghetti, tacos, or-â
âNow.â Bucky says, cutting me off again. I want to run to him, curl into him, and tell him about every student who broke my heart today and every story that I have, but I canât. I like Steve a lot, but it took me ages to even cry in front of Bucky. It all just feels too new, too fresh.
I donât listen and instead I stay where I am. I let my eyes finally flit to Steve, embarrassment tugging at me at the fact heâs watched the entire display.
But then, the funniest thing happensâŚSteve moves.
He stands up from his spot at the table and makes his way towards me. My instincts are split directly in half. Part of me is screaming to run away, shut him out, while the other part of me is desperate to see what he will do.
He never says a word. He doesnât ask questions or pry. He simply walks up, and pulls me into a hug.
I am shell shocked, to say the least. For a while, I just stand there until I remember to lean in. This hug is so familiar, yet so different. Him and Bucky are made of the same stuff, yet this hug feels like more than just muscle and super serum.
No this hug feels like a question. It feels like an invitation. A way of saying âYou can trust me. I want to be here for you.â in the softest way possible.
My little heart canât take much more and I start to cry.
âItâs okay,â Cap says, when I try to stop myself and pull back. His hold is firm. âItâs okay,â he says again and this time I melt into him. I let out every tear that was trapped in me all day. I cry out every scenario I know I could have done better in. Then I cry even more because I have two beautiful men who want to work together to give me something beautiful even though I have done nothing to deserve it.
I finally sniffle and pull away, knowing my face is going to be an embarrassing shade of red like it always is after crying. I look up at Steve and I smile a small, sad smile at him. Then, I stand up on the very tips of my toes and give him a kiss on the cheek before whispering a small âThank you.â
He responds by placing a kiss of his own on my forehead and saying âOf course. Iâm here for you.â
I lean around his bicep (correction- gigantic bicep) to peek at Bucky, who is still in his chair, watching the whole exchange. However, when he sees me peeking over at him, he rises and comes over to us.
âWeâve got dinner tonight, donât worry doll. Do you want a bath?â Bucky asks, gently rubbing his hand down my back. A little shiver runs through me. I love when Bucky takes care of me, especially after a day like today. He doesnât mean it sexual, but there is a dominant quality to him when he is like this. When he finds out exactly what I need and will do whatever it takes to give it to me.
I nod my head yes in response, before I yelp at a sharp stinging pain from my thigh. I whip my head to the right to see Steve smirking. He had pinched me! I cut my eyes at him, and screech âWhat was that for!â
âI believe he asked you a question, and I also believe you are supposed to use your words when talking to him, right Buck?â He says, an evil little grin that I rarely see on him appears on his face.
Bucky looks at him, smiling, âHeâs absolutely right doll. Donât make me remind you of your manners.â He says, a cocky smirk on his lips.
I quickly decide now is not the time to brat and say âYes, I would like a bath, please.â I say, shocked by the exchange.
Another hard pinch and,this time, itâs right below my butt cheek! I feel my face flame at the touch. âYes, what?â Steve asks, enjoying this far too much.
âYes sir.â I grit out, embarrassed to have been reminded of my ârulesâ by someone who was not Bucky. But I would be a total liar if I said it wasnât a little hot. I still burn with a little shame from the interaction and Iâm ready to go relax in the bath, while Bucky washes my hair until-
âGood girl.â Bucky says, before an evil smirk takes over his face. âSteve will help you. I believe he can manage that. Iâll make dinner.â He says it all so plainly, leaving no room for argument.
A shocked sputtering sound escapes me, âWh-What- Are you sure- that meansâŚâ But Bucky looks at me with a face that tells me he knows exactly what that means. I look back at Steve and, Lord help me, he has the same grin on his face.
Captain America, is about to see me naked.
(pt 3 will finally have spice- maybe hehe, stay tuned!)
WinterHawk x Reader (Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, reader)
What happens when your two boyfriends have very different auditory needs?
CW: itâs a throuple {cry about it}, pet names, itâs all fluff, some comic canon + some movie canon + some just make believe {again, cry about it} Not Proof read
Word Count: 865
(Itâs short and sweet)
You wake up sprawled out across the bed, taking up nearly the whole
thing. This is glorious except it lets you know that both your boys are already up and at it. You look over at the digital clock thatâs on the nightstand and curse yourself when you realize that youâve slept in a lot later than you planned. A groan creeps out as you make yourself sit up in bed. You listen to see if you can hear anything happening in the house below me and you think you hear a few pots clattering around. Maybe someone is making breakfast. You think happily as you scoot out of bed and make my way downstairs. The first person you see is Clint, sprawled out on the couch, playing with some arrow part.
âGood morning,â you say, my voice a little low and scratchy from sleep. You sit for a few moments and realize he never heard me. You take a few steps closer and this makes Clint aware of what is happening.
âMorning, honey, how did you sleep?â He asks, a happy grin on his face. Itâs evident now that he wasnât tuning you out on purpose but he truly hadnât heard you. You smile at his sweetness and quickly bend down to give him a quick kiss on the forehead.
âI slept fine. I woke up by myself though. How long have you two been awake?â you ask, feeling a little embarrassed at your laziness. You realize he is watching your mouth intently and remind. yourself to speak up. Clint gives you a look that tells you youâre about to get scolded and you hope he isnât about to remind you again to be louder.
âNone of that missy. You never sleep! Iâm proud of you for resting for once. Me and Bucky have only been up for about an hour, so no feeling bad.â Clint says, giving your thigh a playful pinch that causes you to yelp.
Bucky pokes his head around the kitchen corner at your yelp and says âEverything okay doll?â he asks, as he continues stirring something in a bowl.
In the same volume youâve been using, you holler âYes Iâm okay!â over your shoulder and you see Bucky wince at the harsh sound. You quickly slap a little hand over your mouth and whisper-shout âsorry!â
It was hard to find a balance with these two. When Clint didnât have his hearing aids up very loud you were constantly reminded to not mumble and to talk at a good volume. However, Bucky had super soldier senses which meant you could whisper a few rooms over and he could still hear you. It wasnât usually a problem in group setting, but there were times at home that it got you in trouble. You were usually very soft spoken. It wasnât like you to raise your voice or project much at all. You flush, a little embarrassed that you still havenât found the right balance yet.
Bucky had made cinnamon pancakes for breakfast. As you sit at the table, you almost moan after your first bite. Itâs a low, breathy sound but it doesnât go unnoticed by your super soldier boyfriend. You see him cut you a look that means âbehaveâ. Clint is oblivious to your pretty sounds until you speak up to defend yourself.
âIâm not being weird, these are just really good pancakes!â you say, as a blush creeps over your neck and cheeks.
âIâve missed something, havenât I?â Clint says, not upset but wanting to be filled in.
âDoll here sounds like she is making sweet love to those pancakes.â Bucky says, never looking up from his plate but smirking all the same.
You furiously blush and look to Clint to gauge his reaction. However, he is grinning ear to ear and makes the comment âNo fair, you sound so
pretty when you moan.â
This causes you to choke on your pancake and you begin having a coughing fit. In the midst of your hacking you cut a glare at Clint who is grinning way too much. Once you regain your ability to breathe and not feel pancake in your throat, you look at both your boyfriends and you decide to not risk talking right away. You sign âBoth of you need to pull your head out of the gutter.â
Bucky smirks and joins in, signing prettily with that metal hand âYou started it!â
You look at Hawkeye, looking a little remorseful and hoping the sighing didnât make him feel bad. Instead he smirks and signs âDonât act like you donât like it. Even I can hear how loud you are in bed when we tease you.â
You look shy after that comment and take a sip of your coffee. You looked between the two of them and couldnât help but smile. Sure, they needed different things from you but love went across all volumes. You looked between them both and grin a pure, honest thing.
âI love you,â I sign to both men at the table with me. I mean it more than anything. I canât help but smile in the silence when they both sign it back.
Imagine itâs Winterhawk (Which I somehow am just learning about, so if you donât know itâs Clint and Bucky) x reader. Except reader is always having to be volume conscious because Clint always tells her to speak up but Buckyâs super soldier hearing can hear her at a whisper-
Hello! I was wondering if you would write a fic where the reader is a host for a symbiote like venom or carnage and Bruce Banner found her when she was trying to figure out how to deal with an alien parasite? They end up with a father daughter dynamic and she's kept a secret but then something happens where everyone on the team finds out or she has to save Bruce? It could also be an avenger x reader fic (obv just not Bruce lol) if you felt like including it. Enjoy your break and wonderful writing! <3
We Are All Freaks Here
Host Venom! Reader x Banner (Platonic!) Avengers x Reader
CW- Thor is a flirt, Reader struggles with powers, angsty but happy ending, I use ây/nâ one time- iâm sorry
Not proof read :)
Word Count- 2,363
The world was not prepared for aliens. They were just some silly story that existed in freaky movies and comic books. Right? They didnât exist. I believed that too! Really, I did. That is, until an alien decided to make its home in my body. Yeah buttercup, buckle up.
I furiously shake, my whole body trembling uncontrollably as I feel a black ink pour over my mind. I feel it spindle around my every nerve, weaving its way through my blood.
What is happening to me?
I decide that itâs probably just an extreme case of the heebie-jeebies. Yeah thatâs all it is. I got a little too carried away in my nerdy interest and well, that led me to a weird, supposedly âhauntedâ library. Super cool, but also super dangerous. Extraterrestrial activity and unexplainable events had been reported from this very spot on more than one occasion. I had to see it! But I really should learn that when caution tape is strung in an intense web around a place, you probably shouldnât go in.
Surely, I just got a little scared and my body is not functioning with all this adrenaline, right? After all, Iâd been creeping around in here for a while and that was bound to get to somebody. I grab my flash light off the floor and start to very quickly walk towards the door until I hear a voice hissing
âHelloâ
I whip around as fast as humanly possible, searching frantically with my flashlight. âWhoâs there?â I ask, my voice coming out quite pathetic.
âI am Venomâ the slithering voice speaks again but this time it sounded different. Like a residual echo in my mind. Also, Venom?? What kind of name was that! That sounded scary as heck!
âI..Iâm sorry to have bothered you mister Venom, I am leaving now!â I say as I slowly back up towards the door.
âBut I am going with you.â I hear, and this time I know I am screwed. I didnât hear that out-loud, it was like a thought in my own head. Like my subconscious decided to smoke a boat-ton of cigarettes and now sounds like a completely different person. Goosebumps have covered my arms as I, very slowly, reach towards the back of my head. I gingerly touch it, and a giant breath gusts out of me when I realize there is no foreign substance sucking out my brains.
This is fine! Really! I decided to try and only think about the steps I am taking. The sound of my boots clicking against the floor as I book it towards the exit. No thought, no weird conversations with my subconscious, only walking.
However, when I finally push through the door of this god-forsaken place I realize I am not alone. At the forefront of the group is a man with dark curls and glasses. His hands are outstretched in a âWe arenât going to hurt youâ way. I quickly look around to see a few other people, and then I seeâŚoh my gosh! Some of them have guns. Not just normal guns but like, high tech giant guns. What the heck? It was just a little trespassing! Surely I wouldnât get shot on sight for being curious.
I hear a small click, someone cocking a weapon-
âHide, humanâ
And that is the last thought I had, or heard? Still not really sure- before I completely blacked out.
When I wake up, itâs like being pulled out of a tar pit. I rise to consciousness slowly, and I donât try to open my eyes. Instead I focus on sense. I feel something soft under me, Iâm assuming a bed of some kind. I relax slightly until I feel a cold metal clamping my wrists. What the- oh my gosh, am I in jail??
My eyes fly open at that and I quickly take stock of my surroundings. It certainly doesnât look like a prison, at least not really. I search through my eyes, which feel gritty and dry until I hear a voice.
âGood morningâ
I nearly jump clear out of my skin, trying to decide if this is my freaky subconscious again or someone else but no, that sounded normal. I blink a few more times until I see a man, making his way in front of me. It takes me a minute to place him but this is the same dark-haired man I saw outside the library. He is looking down at me, almost appraisingly and I feel embarrassment pinch at my cheeks.
âWho are you?â I ask, my voice scratchy from disuse and I immediately feel so, incredibly thirsty. As if he expected this, the man holds out a glass of water, with a straw. He holds it close to my face, since I canât use my own hands. I ignore the embarrassment and quickly suck down the water, feeling like I havenât drank in days.
âCareful,â he says, his voice soft but clear, âYou can make yourself sick if you drink too much too fast.â
I glare at him over the glass but decide to listen. I release the straw and relax back into the bed. He smiles at this, and places the water on a nearby table. âMy name is, Dr. Banner, but you may call me Bruce.â
âNo doctorsâ I hear that voice again and this time itâs easier to tell that it is in fact, in my head. Apparently the doctor realizes my fear and quickly goes serious.
âYou can hear it, right?â He says, pointing to my head for emphasis.
âWhat is it?â I ask, feeling surprisingly angry instead of my natural calm. âWhat did you do to me?â I practically scream and give a good thrash against the handcuffs.
What is wrong with me?? I would never yell at someone I just met.
I shake my head hard, so confused. I hate it, I hate that I donât have my own brain and I feel soâŚhelpless. This sobers me and I feel tears sting my eyes.
I flinch when I hear the voice again, âI can help you. We are strong together, no need to feel so weak.â I give my head another firm shake and I look towards the doctor with pleading eyes. âHelp me, please?â
âI promise to help you, to the absolute best of my ability.â The man says and I donât know why, it goes against all rhyme or reason but, I decide to believe him.
- - - - - - 6 months later - - - - -
âTry harder! You can do it. Keep control.â I hear Bruce coaching me from the sidelines but his voice sounds far away. I know if I looked down I would see that hauntingly familiar black ink, pooling in my hands and streaking through my veins.
No, no. Fight it! I try to coach myself and I feel myself regaining control. I feel my breathing slow to a regular rate and I smirk when I hear the disapproving roar in my head.
âWell done.â Dr. Banner says as I exit the âBox of Doomâ. Itâs not actually called that. Itâs a giant circular glass cage. It was originally made for Bruce if he ever went âCode Greenâ but he has reprogrammed it as a training device for me. He uses the screens or little robotic arms to apply stressful or painful stimuli while I am contained. My job is to stay in control of my brain and not let Venom take over.
I feel my head throb, the way it always does after training, but I grin anyway. Itâs amazing how far I have come in the past months and I am so grateful for the way my life has changed.
Dr. Banner and I have not told anyone else about my uhâŚcompanion. Stark was gracious enough to let me stay in a room in the tower with all the other Avengers. Bruce lied to them and said I am his 2nd cousin or something and said I have no family to live with. Which is a little true, I was living on my own when Bruce found me and both my parents passed when I was young.
However, we are certainly not related. We are just two people, trying to control the monsters within us. It is tricky, trying to keep a secret that big. However, the lie has become second nature now and I donât socialize much anyway.
âI think you are ready.â said Bruce as I chug some water. I look at him, tilting my head in confusion. He laughs at my contorted face before saying. âTonight, the party. I think you can handle it.â
My eyes widen. I have purposely avoided any kind of event with loud music or flashing lights. I also try to avoid alcohol because Venom and alcohol do not go well together. (I had champagne in New Years and had to tell everyone I had strep throat because his voice kept coming out of my mouth. Tony still makes fun of me for it)
âAre you sure?â I ask, feeling doubt prickle in my mind.
âI am sure. I know you can handle it. Besides, tonight isnât one of Tonyâs raves. It is just a little get together with the Avengers. An easy, laid back affair.â He says, overselling it a little bit but I get his point. Surely I can handle dinner and drink? I just wonât have any alcohol and I like to think I can uphold polite conversation for a couple hours.
âOkay, Iâm inâ I say with a wide grin.
The party was going swimmingly. Natalie had let me borrow a stunning black dress of hers that showed off all the right places and my hair was curled and laying elegantly over my shoulder. I had been chatting with Pepper and Natasha, having a splendid time. Nat even kept my glass filled with sparkling cider, not once questioning my âno alcoholâ choice, so I could still have a drink without the effects.
That is, until Thor slipped behind me at the bar and whispered âHello there, I donât think we have had the pleasure of meeting.â
I feel myself furiously blushing at his beautiful voice and even more so when I turn around and take him in. I had heard of Thor before but, he had been gone to Asgard for quite a while and he had finally come back today. âHi my name is y/nâ I say, holding out my hand, expecting a handshake.
I am pleasantly surprised when he takes my hand and kisses my knuckles instead before saying, âThor, God of Thunder.â I feel goosebumps pebble my arms and I try to not be embarrassed as he grins down at me but come on! He has a gorgeous, panty-melting smile and for the first time, I hear Venom give an approving growl.
See! Even the monster thinks heâs hot!
I am trying to come up with something flirty and clever to say when I feel a fierce grip on my arm. I yelp slightly as I begin being dragged away. âBruce stop!â I say, trying to dig in my heels but itâs to no use. He doesnât stop until we are in a far corner of the room, only barely visible to the rest of the party goers.
âWhat was that for!â I hiss, rubbing the sensitive spot on my arm where he had grabbed me.
He turns me to the mirror and I quickly lose all of my fervor. My cheeks were rosey, as I thought but my eyes were almost completely black, and I realize itâs a miracle I got dragged away when I did. I was probably looking at Thor like something to eat- literally.
âLook, itâs not my business who you do or donât like. But that- those relationships, they donât work for people like us.â Bruce says, scrubbing his face with his hand. âI know itâs not what you want to hear but just, just trust me, okay? We canât have that.â
I feel embarrassment curl in me at how ridiculous I must have looked. Trying to play human and flirt and foolishly hope. I am angry. Angry at myself, angry at Thor, angry at Bruce.
I am angry at everyone.
âHey, hey. Itâs okay, I know itâs hard but you can handle it-â I hear Bruceâs voice but it is already too far away.
I can have whatever I want, I just have to take it.
Welcome back. Venom says, before we tear this party apart.
I wake up and immediately wish I hadnât. The floor is cold and hard against my back and every single part of me hurts. I listen and hear low voices murmuring somewhere in the distance. I groan loudly as I try to sit up, feeling every muscle painfully contract as I do so. I finally open my eyes and feel my stomach drop. Iâm in the box.
Oh no, oh no, no, noâŚ.
What have I done?
Apparently I gasp or make some sound that gets the attention of those outside the box. To my surprise itâs Thor and Banner both, looking in on me.
âItâs okay kid, no one got hurt.â Banner says, as if reading my mind.
âYes, turns out your slimey-thingy does not care for lightning very much.â Thor said, grinning slightly.
âSoâŚthey all know now?â I ask, staring at the floor, shame crushing me.
âYeah, they know.â Banner says, and before the tears forming in my eyes can fall, he adds âAnd they want you to stay.â
My head snaps up at that, âWhat?â I ask, sounding just as shocked as I feel.
âYeah, they want you here. They want you to continue your training and, when you are ready, they will send you into the field.â Banner says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.
âButâŚ.but Im a freak.â I say, laughing slightly in pure shock.
âWell, little butterfly, we are all freaks here.â Thor says, grinning in at me.
This time, I donât flinch when I hear the disapproving growl in my head. I let hope flood me and challenge it:
Hey! If youâre taking requests do you think you could write something of Spencer or Aaron comforting reader after they self harm (walk in on it may, whatever youâre comfortable with) love your work, it brings me so much comfort đ KEEP IT UP đ˝
Oh my gosh this request is from FOREVER ago! But I am such a grandma I just learned where the inbox is located on Tumblr-
I am so sorry my lovely and I hope you enjoy this âbetter late than neverâ fic!
angel kisses đ¤
â ď¸this fic contains TRIGGERING CONTENT. It mentions self harm, self harm scars, and recent cutting. I obviously handled it as delicately as possible but please take care of yourself! If this could be triggering, I have lots of other fics you can try!â ď¸
Spencer Reid x reader
âHey baby.â Spencer says, wrapping you in a tight hug. The kind of hug that plucks the worries out of your mind and causes you to melt into him. Thatâs what these hugs are supposed to do, at least. However, the stinging pain on your arms kept the hug from being as comforting as usual. Spencer pulled back and you saw the crease between his brow.
âAre you okay?â he asks, eyes looking over you, assessing.
âYeah, why wouldnât I be!â You say in the most cheery voice you can muster. The blessing and a curse of having a genius profiler as a boyfriend- they can always read you, even when you wish they couldnât. You soldier on as though I havenât been caught in a lie. âWhat sounds good for dinner?â you ask, as you turn on your heel to head towards the kitchen, âI can make tortellini bake, um and I have the ingredients for buffalo chicken!â you say, as chopper as possible while you search your cabinets.
âTortellini sounds great.â Spencer says, watching you in that assessing way of his. He plops himself on your barstool, resting his elbows on the island. Conversation ebbs and flows as you pull out your ingredients and for a moment, you believe youâre safe.
- - - - - -
âHey Spence, can you turn the thermostat down?â You ask, face pink from the heat. You always got warm when cooking, especially when you had to stand over multiple hot pans.
âOf course, loveâ Spencer replies, unfurling his long limbs from the stool and walking into the hallway with the thermostat. You know the temperature will eventually be more comfortable but for immediate remediation you slip off the large sweater that had been cloaking you. As soon as you pull it off, you realize your error and feel your body seize up. You quickly try to scramble back into your sweater but, itâs too late. Youâve been caught.
âLove?â Spencer says, and for a moment you think you can play it off, act like itâs nothing. You turn and see his face, the concern etched there, and know that lying would be futile. You drop your sweater to the floor and shame wells within you and begins pouring out in the form of tears. You try to hold it in, try to keep it together and act like itâs nothing but once you feel the first, hot tear roll your face and onto your neck, the dam breaks.
âOh, baby.â Spencer says, rushing to you and catching you just as a vicious sob wracks your body, causing you to lose balance. âItâs okay, itâs okay. Iâve got you.â He gently coaxes you as he ushers you to sit in his lap on the floor. You cry ugly tears and only manage a strangled âIâm sorry, Iâm so sorry.â Every few ragged breathes.
âNo, none of that. You donât apologize for this. Iâm sorry that you felt like this was your only way out. 17% of people self harm. Donât make yourself a monster in your head my love.â Spencer talks in a low, smooth tone, as he runs slow circles on my back, trying to be mindful of not bumping any cuts on my arms.
Eventually the sobs subside and itâs reduced to just watery eyes and sniffling. Spencer slowly pulls you out of his shoulder and looks you in the eyes. âIâm going to keep you accountable now. After seeing it I am
taking it upon myself to help you as best as I can. Is it, just these, or are there more?â Spencer says as his fingers graze down my arms, avoiding any newer cuts and slowly taking in the mosaic of old and new scars.
âThere- there are a few moreâ You choke out, your voice breaking in shame.
âCan I see?â Spencer asks in a voice barely above a whisper.
You donât speak, instead you wordlessly lead him to the living room and gesture for him to sit on the couch. You take a breath to steady yourself before you tug down your shorts. This isnât the first time someone has seen you naked, but this vulnerability feels like being laid bare, with every nerve exposed. You stand, in a bra and underwear, not knowing what to say. You watch Spencerâs eyes rake over you, assessing, learning.
Thatâs when he shocks me. He doesnât turn away in horror or look at me with pity. Instead, he gets off the couch and down onto his knees before me. Before you can ask what he is doing or interject he places a kiss, feather light, a barely there kiss, to the top of your thigh on one of your oldest scars. You are shocked by the gesture and even more so when he wraps his hands around the back of my thighs, holding me still, before placing another kiss on another scar.
You feel more tears well up in my eyes as he continues his ministrations. Gently, reverently kissing every scar on your thighs before slowly moving up, inspecting any inch of skin. When he is satisfied, he tugs a wrist to his mouth and begins again. We stay like that. Not a scar went untouched by his lips and when he places his final kiss he lays his head against my stomach and whispers, âBeautiful.â
Tears are freely rolling down my face but these arenât tears of fear or anger. These are tears of joy. He sees me, truly sees me. He isnât revolted by the sight of me, even though it isnât the pretty mask I show off. This is me, fractured and broken but he saw the fissures and called it art. He sees me.
You fall to your knees and hug him, clutching him as tight as ever. Words exceed you, you have nothing to say to express the love that is pouring out of you in droves so you settle for actions. You hold him as close as you can and sit in reverent silence. You donât think you could ever leave this place, this peace. That is until you hear the loud wail of the smoke alarm and gasp âSpencer, the dinner!â You yell as you run into the kitchen, realizing tonight, may need to be a take out night.
But instead of crying, you quickly throw out the charred food and find yourselfâŚlaughing. It would be okay, and before you can even say a word to Spencer you hear him on the phone in the other room, phoning in an order for takeout. You grin wildly to yourself despite the circumstances. You see the discarded sweatshirt on the floor and you leave it there. You wonât cover up anymore, especially not if it means receiving angel kisses.
