#hulk fluff

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BRUCE BANNER & THE HULK (mcu)

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How Bruce / Hulk reacts to being given a Hulk plush (Bruce Banner x Fem!Reader) and (Hulk & Fem!Reader)

Headcanons

SFW, established relationship, fluff, crack treated seriously, hints at canon divergence

Picture source: Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015)

2k+ words (some of which are from one Spurt - or mini fic - w/ Bruce and another w/ Hulk)

BRUCE BANNER

Bruce stares at you like you’re insane when you come up to him brandishing the plushie Hulk like a trophy.

Of course a second later he fixes his face to smile at you in greeting, even with his hair fluffier than usual from him having been running his hands through it so much and his smile tinged with fatigue, but his initial opinion of the plush itself still doesn’t actually improve.

For your part you remain unphased, making sure he’s not handling anything sensitive as you study the little Hulk in your hands some more before slipping behind his desk and shaking it at Bruce with a proclamation of: “It’s you!”

Bruce laughs at your antics despite the way both his brows have started furrowing, and finally reaches out for the plush.

❤︎

“And people, what? They buy these?”

“They did,” you shrug, you’re not going to sugarcoat it for Bruce. He’s likely to go looking for the distributor on his own time anyway.

Bruce goes quiet then, but it’s the type of silence from him that only half worries you. He was thinking, certainly, but not in a way that would make him spiral. At least not immediately.

“Right,” Bruce hums. He turns the little green plush over in his hands — both having come off his keyboard where he was inputting notes into his computer the moment you walked into his office. “No parent wants their child playing with a toy modeled after a proverbial natural disaster on legs, huh?”

He cracks a small lopsided grin at that, scoffing to himself. You give him a long look in response and Bruce only offers a shrug, ducking his head and reaching up to squeeze the back of his neck for a moment.

Your lips purse.

“I didn’t say that, B.”

He nods, “It’s the truth though, Y/n, I’m well aware of that.” The scientist stands from his stool, leaving the plush beside his keyboard, moving closer to you and wrapping you up in his arms. Softly, he nudges his nose with your broader one and you smile. “Plus, you’re far nicer than me. Of course you wouldn’t have said that.”

The soft, pale inside of his palm presses to your darker skin as he brings up his hand to cup over your cheek. Before you let yourself lean into his touch you give him a measured look, eyes narrowed, but Bruce doesn’t budge despite the apologetic look he’s giving you.

“Goddamnit, Bruce,” you grumble, giving into his touch after pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist.

The corners of Bruce’s eyes crinkle. He snorts.

“For what it’s worth it’s actually pretty cute,” he looks over the Hulk plushie with a more critical eye before shrugging, “even if it’s likeness is off.”

You heave a sigh.

“It’s too cute,” you guess.

Bruce nods.

“It’s way too cute,” he confirms, the arm he still has around your waist squeezing playfully at you.

Laughing, you shake your head at him, throwing your arms around his shoulders and pressing a quick peck of a kiss to his lips.

The hand he had on your face drops from your dewy skin to join the other around your waist like a moth drawn to flame, and you grin as he shifts fast to kiss you back, his grip on you tightening.

You put a finger over his lips to keep him from chasing your mouth for more, staring at him with lidded eyes and a sly curve to your lips.

“I feel it pertinent to remind you that Hulk and you share a face, Honey.” Bruce’s eyes widen and he looks about two seconds away from pressing a hand to his chest and acting wounded. “And,” you say before he can take his hands off you, “that I happen to think you’re both plenty cute. In my humble opinion that is.”

“Oh in your ‘humble’ opinion? Is that what we’re calling it?” Bruce snorts again, but when he kisses you next it’s sweeter than it needs to be.

❤︎

Overall, Bruce doesn’t hate the plush toy, which is nice, he just doesn’t particularly care for it. Though he does raise an amused brow once he tracks down the small Brazilian factory that used to make the plushies, a small fond smile curling his lips.

In general his relationship with Hulk is a lot better than it’s been even before everything with Wanda, but post The Avengers forming (hell, after having helped create Ultron with Tony his relationship with himself is the best it’s been since), so he isn’t disgusted like he once would’ve been by the prospect of a company making Hulk plushies.

The Hulk protected him on Sakaar (even if he did a lot of other things Bruce likes less too), and saved his life during The Battle of Wakanda. Bruce could give the Big Guy his props now. Especially after he himself got to kick ass in the HulkBuster, but could still admit to himself that fighting droves of bad guys wasn’t the type of challenge he particularly enjoyed.

Bruce largely disregards the plush after your initial conversation about it. Forgets about the thing, really. When he finds you one night — after he’s been away with the team for a few days on a particularly grueling mission — curled up on the couch with the plush against your chest and your arms wrapped tight around it he finds a kind of fondness for the little Hulk, though.

Cuddling with the plush like that you cut both the most adorable and the most heartbreakingly sweet figure he’s ever seen.

When Bruce scoops you up to carry you off to y’all’s shared bedroom it’s with a small groan (Hulk’s been in charge for the better part of 72 hours, his body was all bruise and still in the process of completely healing from the prolonged transformation, his ass is exhausted), but it’s completely worth it to feel the brush of your soft kinky hair over his cheek and to have you subconsciously curl into him — Hulk plush still held tightly and smushed between both of your bodies — in your sleep.

By the time you’re both in bed you’ve started to stir awake and give him the ‘welcome home’ he always looks forward to, insistent arms locked tight around his shoulders in a hug as he squeezes you flush to him from around your waist. He still makes sure the Hulk plush doesn’t tumble to the floor in your excitement though, handing it back to you and watching with fond russet eyes as you curl up with it again while he spoons you from behind and presses sweet, longing kisses into the brown expanse of your skin.

THE HULK

Hulk is borderline insulted at first until you explain what it is.

When you first come up to him brandishing his plush lookalike you’re not expecting him to both simultaneously respond like you’re about to burn him in effigy and as if you’re betraying him by trying to replace his big green ass with a plushie, of all things, but you suppose that with his reputation and general possessiveness towards you that you should’ve expected his reaction on both accounts.

After a quick explanation, and a pat of your tiny hand over his giant one in reassurance, you’re good to go though.

Once Hulk’s certain you're not trying to replace him or hurt and piss him off, though….

…Hulk immediately hits you with a “But…people hate Hulk,” and you're so caught off guard that you just blink up at him for a few silent moments.

Hulk has your mind going haywire as you think of an answer for him — vetoing “not everyone,” as an acceptable response almost immediately at the impatient grumble he lets out at you taking so long to answer.

Hulk hears your eventual answer of: “Some people still do, yeah, but a few people definitely don’t. I don’t,” and deflates.

The Big Guy slumps forward, resting his elbow onto his thigh where he’s sitting criss-cross in front of you, so he can prop his head up with his fist as he effectively pouts. You feel horrible that you can’t give him any other answer, but that was the truth and you wouldn’t lie to him; especially when you’d be so easily disproved if the Big Guy actually showed his face anywhere.

Hulk’s public perception wasn’t completely in the gutter, with a ton of work and a good deal of care it could be salvaged some, but he definitely wasn’t trusted by the majority of the public anymore (and the trust he and Bruce did have before the incident in South Africa had been faint at best even back in the day).

❤︎

“Fine.” Hulk gives a great big huff that makes your lips quirk. “Hulk look.” He holds out his hand, and you promptly rise on the tips of your toes to place the Hulk plushie delicately in his palm.

Plush now in his free hand; he doesn’t actually move it from where you placed it, just moves his hand this way and that and gives the toy a grave amount of inspection.

“Hulk never wore purple,” he grunts after a few moments, and you laugh.

Hulk wasn’t exactly wrong though. Bruce certainly wore a lot of purple, it was his favorite color after all, but Hulk didn’t touch the color if he could help it outside of the short block of purple that lined the top sides of his uniform pants.

Hulk’s completely unphased when you lean over his thigh opposite from where he’s propping his head up so you can inspect the plush with him. Even drops his hand enough for you to be able to see it at eye level.

After a few of your own silent seconds you nod and solemnly agree that you’ve never actually seen him wear full-on purple, yes, but guess that the color is for color theory purposes as the plush was made for children and would need appealing color coding to match.

“That’s dumb,” Hulk grunts, but he leaves it at that.

He goes right back to staring at the thing in silence again and you’re perfectly content to let him, humming softly and letting yourself rest your upper body over his muscled thigh.

Hulk runs hot so you won’t stay pressed to him for too long (unless it’s cold, then you’re stuck to him like glue) but his jade skin is surprisingly soft for such a force of nature and he’s never once objected to you climbing all over him.

❤︎

Eventually you reach up to take the plush back (mostly bcs Hulk’s had enough of it and is twisting his hand sideways, so if you don’t take it, it’ll fall) and keep talking lightly with Hulk about Avengers shit and whatnot. Absentmindedly, though, you take to running your thumbs softly over the plush’s head area or through its short tufts of fake black “hair”, self soothing with the feel of the plush.

Hulk notices. Hell, Hulk points it out to you.

❤︎

“Y/n not touch Hulk like that.”

A blink.

Freezing, you pause to look down at your fidgeting hands and the soft colorful fabric beneath the pads of your fingers. Your brows furrow.

Another blink— still from you.

Only after a few more beats of silence — only broken by a grumble from the Big Guy as he shifts restlessly — do you look up and turn your blank stare onto Hulk.

Hulk, whose lips are downturned into a frown and who's also watching you like he’s half expecting you to catch a whole conniption over his words.

What you finally, eloquently, settle on saying is: “What?”

❤︎

And that’s how you end up finding out Hulk likes when you run your nails along his scalp as hard as you can (he’s got some tough ass skin, there’s no other way; and if you wear acrylics or gels they’re gonna need to be strong) and when you run gentle hands over his face. Likes it so much he falls asleep, in fact.

It’s also how you end up with literal tons worth of jade green giant lying flat on his back with his head inches away from your lap while you sit criss-cross on the plush carpet behind him with your back leant against his shoulder and hands working overtime as you essentially pet him.

Call him “handsome” while you brush his hair behind his ears and he’ll crack an eye open to drop large eyes down to look at you then grin hard enough to have you cracking up. Press kisses all over his giant cheeks and forehead and over his closed eyelids and he’ll be eating out of your palm for a week— this shit is dangerous.

Overall, after any misunderstandings have been corrected, he’s more readily forgiving of the plush than Bruce, but that’s mostly because he has the benefit of feeling flattered that you’re so eagerly snuggling with a green plushie made in his likeness even as you’re curled up by his side.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!!!

Bonus scrapped scene: “Hulk not grey either” “I know, Big Guy, but copyright. The distributors probably didn’t want to get sued for using your likeness.” “Still not grey,” he grumbles, expression turning mulish and petulant. You pat him on the arm in solidarity.

I am in a fucking mood I can’t help myself, the Bruce/Hulk stuff just keeps coming.

So, yeah, I went for the alternate version of Endgame (ie: one of the deleted Hulk/Bruce scenes) and changed the story a bit so that I don’t have to deal with MCU “Smart Hulk” and so that I could have Hulk smash from the HulkBuster armor after Bruce and his back and forth where they come to an understanding (also a deleted scene), but instead of kind of erasing Hulk I’m just making it so now he and Bruce have come to an equilibrium together. I’ve also technically retconned the fuck out of Ragnarok, but I don’t go into that here.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

—

Bonus(+)Banner —

—

Also, honestly, it bothers me (to a fictional extent) that Wanda never had to own up to or make up for what she did to Bruce and her making the conscious decision to set the Hulk off in that area of South Africa bcs she was irritated and as a distraction. We know that once Bruce came back to earth and did that ridiculous “Smart Hulk” thing that he had to rebuild his image and public perception of him and that even by She-Hulk: Attorney at Law it’s not stable enough for him to just be around the regular public as a Hulk. Even when in Endgame we see that he’s regained trust and has some amount of celebrity, his position on earth is still clearly tentative. And that’s despite being a big factor in helping save the world.

Bruce had to build himself out of that hole that Wanda dug for him and whatever legal mess and guilt that would’ve naturally followed, Hulk had to sit with that guilt and that confusion (you can see the emotions on his face right before Tony — using Veronica — knocks him out and he’s the one who leaves on the quinjet) then was subsequently erased by the narrative because the writers didn’t want to actually write a Hulk redemption arc, and Wanda got off completely scot free without having to make up for or let herself be rightfully prosecuted for destroying those South Africans’ lives, because the Hulk might not have murdered anyone but Hulk’s rampage (by its very nature) is tantamount to an impromptu natural disaster having torn through that city. A city that Wanda purposely targeted because she was mad at one man, and an infraction that she never made up for or is even seriously mentioned after AOU.

—

Bonus(+)Pic —

[late-to-the-party-81]

Thank you for reading and reblogging 😘🥰

Cuddles are the cure

Ask: Omg omg omg Jen please please can I have some Bruce/Hulk and Reader. I'm in desperate need of some super fluff, like imagine Hulk just picking you up and snuggling you all warm when you're I'm you're sad 🥺🥺🥺

AN: Super fluff, you say, Elsie? In fact it’s so fluffy I had to throw in reader comforting Hulk too - mutual comforting. Set in the world of You, Me and the Other Guy and slots in as part two of the series.

Beta’d by @lunarbuck

Moodboard by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Master list | Series Master list

Relationship: Bruce/Hulk x Reader

WC: 1.5k

CW: Fluff. Lots of cuddles. Soft kisses. Implied Tony being a dickhead. Working in customer retail sucks.

In every way that mattered, your life had improved immeasurably since you and Bruce had started dating. You already had a friendship, a connection, and you couldn’t believe how easy the two of you just fit. 

It was still early days though - you had your shifts, and when Bruce, or rather the Hulk, wasn’t off saving the world with the other Avengers, he had his research and other interests.You didn’t want to live in each others pockets, but still made the effort to see each other at least three times a week, and spoke on the phone all the other days.

You’d introduced him to your small circle of friends, and none of them realised who he actually was, aside from being a sweet nerd who’d swept you off your feet. It was the one advantage of having two personas, you supposed - it meant that he could maintain privacy when out and about.

In return, Bruce had invited you to come and meet the other Avengers. He’d done that charming thing of coming over all shy, asking you while cleaning his glasses with his shirt, so that he wouldn’t have to look at you and risk rejection.

“I mean, you only have to come if you want to. I don’t want you to be disappointed or overwhelmed, because they can be a handful. Tony will tease me… and flirt with you, Steve’s actually got a filthy potty mouth, Nat can be pretty intimidating, Thor, when he’s here, is loud and Clint… well… he’s got a specific sense of humour.”

You’d reached out and placed your hand on his arm, and he’d put his glasses back on and looked at you, expression unreadable.

“I’d love to meet them, and not because they’re the Avengers, but because they’re your friends and colleagues.”

“As long as you’re sure.”

You’d shifted closer, cupping his face with your hand and brushing your nose against his.

“Certain.”

They’d been everything Bruce had described and more, but you’d won them over, and now had your own Avengers Tower access clearance. Sometimes you and Bruce met up there, especially if he was working late, or had been on a mission. It was also the best space for you to hang out with Hulk. The green giant was actually a massive cuddle bug, and enjoyed lounging in his/Bruce’s room, watching Disney movies with you while eating insane amounts of popcorn and candy. 

At first, Bruce had been reticent about letting you spend time with his other persona, but you’d convinced him that you would be fine. You knew almost from the first moment that you’d met him that you and Hulk would be friends, because he and Bruce were two sides of the same coin - he would never hurt you.

Now, so far in your relationship, it had all been sunshine and roses - well, apart from that night, but considering what it had led to, you couldn’t be too upset - you and Bruce having cute dates, sweet kisses and lots of laughter.  As you got off the subway you hoped that he’d be able to manage something different, and you didn’t mean intimacy. Well, that would be nice, but also, you were content to wait until it felt right for both of you. What you did need today was comfort, because it had been A Day TM (a really shitty day) because even the best relationship could improve what it was like to work in a retail job.

It wasn’t as though you weren’t used to asshole customers - you had to usually deal with one or two every day, but today! It was like they’d all held a meeting and decided to show up at the same time and be meaner and more horrible than normal - asking for complex drinks that made no sense, then telling you that you’d done it wrong, when you’d actually triple checked with them before starting.

Walking up to the front entrance of the tower you fanned your face, trying to disperse the tears that threatened to fall from just thinking about it. You wouldn’t let them bring you down!

Striding into the building, you flashed your access card to the security guard before swiping it at the executive elevator. You were glad that you’d be able to travel straight to Bruce’s floor. He wasn’t expecting you at this time, but one of your colleagues had owed you, so you’d ended your shift a couple of hours early and made your way straight here. Hopefully you’d be able to hang out in his room while he finished up his work for the day. Or maybe you could keep him company in the lab if you signed some kind of NDA.  

You could feel yourself spiralling and you swallowed back a small cry, turning it into a hiccup as the elevator came to a halt and you virtually stumbled out into Bruce’s living room…

… to be met with the sight of Hulk, sitting on the floor, worry beads around his neck, watching Lilo and Stitch.

His face broke into a broad smile when he saw you, and he clambered to his feet as quickly as he could.

“Pretty Girl!” He turned and looked at the clock and then back at you. “Pretty Girl early!”

You bit your lip and nodded. Despite your mood, a small smile played at the edges of your mouth.

“Uh-huh. I just needed to see you… or Bruce.”

Hulk looked at you for a moment, and blinked. “Pretty Girl okay that Hulk here, not Bruce?”

You nodded, his earnestness and innocence threatening to destroy the last of your control. You took a step towards him, followed by a second and then you were throwing yourself into his arms, pressing your face against his chest and letting the tears of frustration flow.

Slowly, Hulk wrapped his arms around you, and you noticed he was a little unsure.

“Pretty Girl sad. Did bad man come back and try hurt you?”

You lifted your head, and sniffed with a little smile. “No. Nothing like that. Just a bad day at work.”

You eased out of his hold so you could drop your purse and take your coat off.

“How Hulk help? Want Hulk smash?”

He was too sweet. It was tempting.

“No. No smashing. Just be you, buddy. Sit back down and I’ll join you - we can finish watching together. I just need some cuddles.”

He let out a light snort and lumbered back over to his pile of cushions, dropping down heavily. You knew that Tony had had this floor reinforced, but you were still astounded when the floor didn’t shake. Once he appeared comfortable you joined him, climbing up into his lap and pressing into his side. He was so warm!

You watched in silence together for 10 minutes or so, both of you letting out the odd bark of laughter at the antics of Lilo and her extraterrestrial friend. You could feel yourself calming down just through this - being here and being cared for, with no expectation, something that previous boyfriends had never given you.

You were glad you had Bruce, and Hulk. Which brought you back to why the latter was here.

“Hey, Big Guy. Any reason you’re out today? Was there a mission, because I know Bruce had a load of scientific stuff to do today.”

You felt his body stiffen under you.

“No mission. No smash. Stark happen.”

You sighed - it stood to reason.

“Did he frighten Bruce again?”

He let out a resigned huff.

“Wanted to know what makes Hulk appear. Now Hulk not want to go back. Hulk come here, home. Watch movies, try to be calm.”

You rose up on your knees and pressed your palm to his cheek, feeling him lean into it gently.

“So you’ve had a bad day too? I’m sorry. What about if I get some more snacks and you pick another movie. How does that sound?”

“Hulk like snacks. Hulk like movies. Hulk love Pretty Girl.”

You dropped a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Love you too, Big Guy.”

You got up, and went to the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards for enough snacks to keep Hulk sated. You smiled to yourself as you heard him talking to FRIDAY, picking the next thing you were going to watch. Snacks and drinks obtained you took your place, back on his lap.

The opening credits played and you smiled - the Little Mermaid.

“You know, if you ever have this problem again, ask FRIDAY to call me. I’m more than happy to help cheer you up. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yes. Hulk and Pretty Girl best friends.”

You both settled down then to watch Ariel fight for her true love. Hulk kept an arm around you, holding you close, but without squashing you, and every so often you ran your hand up and down his arm or scratched your fingers into his black hair, quietly soothing him.

About 10 minutes from the end, Hulk started to fidget and shift under you. You got up and watched as he slowly shrank, and his skin returned to pink. Bruce looked up at you, slightly chagrined, from the pillow nest on the floor. “Hey.”

You smiled and sat back down next to him, wrapping your arms around one of his and leaning your head on his shoulder. “Hey, yourself. Feeling better?”

“Absolutely.” Bruce leant over and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “And you? Sorry I wasn’t here to help.”

“Not your fault. And I’m sure there will be another day with a-hole customers. I’m also certain that Tony won’t frighten Hulk out of you again.”

Bruce chuckled. “You give him more credit than he’s due. Although he might not try it again for a while - the Other Guy smashed up his new Porsche…”

You couldn’t help it - you laughed out loud, cuddling into your boyfriend, and realising that life wasn’t so bad after all.

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel @esposadomd

[cece693]

THOSE 4 TERRIFYING WORDS

pairing: steve rogers x male reader synopsis: 'We need to talk' is a universal line delivered when one wants to break up. Everyone knew this, even Steve (a man from the 40s). Not wanting to lose the one person he loves, Steve is determined to show you why that's a bad idea.

You’d only said four ordinary words—“we need to talk”—but the moment they left your mouth, Steve Rogers went sheet-white, like you’d just handed him divorce papers wrapped in vibranium foil. You don’t notice the storm gathering behind his eyes—you’re already stepping into the corridor—but Steve hears the click of the latch and decides two things simultaneously:

You won’t have time to second-guess the relationship if he eliminates every reason you could possibly be unhappy.

He absolutely will not let you finish a sentence that starts with “we need to talk.”

He tugs on a Henley you once said makes his shoulders look “bite-worthy,” slicks his hair into a movie-poster wave, and cooks you dinner. Not just any dinner—lasagna with homemade pasta sheets, because apparently pasta rollers are what Amazon Prime is for when you’re catastrophizing at 3 p.m.

You walk in still dusted with rooftop grit, and the smell of basil hits you first. Then Steve appears holding a casserole dish like it’s Mjölnir, blue eyes shining with equal parts hope and mortal terror. “Uh… hi?” you say, eyebrow cocked.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.” He kisses your cheek, voice syrup-sweet. “Take a hot shower, get comfy. Everything’s taken care of.”

You blink. “We—”

“Later.” He flashes a smile so earnest it almost creaks. “Want you relaxed before we…talk.”

The evening gets even weirder.

Steve insists you sit while he serves you a borderline-Michelin meal, refusing to let you lift a finger. He even tells FRIDAY to dim the lights to a “romantic yet conversation-friendly” 30 percent. When you reach for the Parmesan, he’s already there, grating like a man possessed.

After dessert (tiramisu, made from scratch, obviously), he shepherds you to the couch and gently sets your legs over his lap. The television flicks on: your favorite comfort show. He pretends not to notice the way you stare at him as though he’s sprouted antlers.

Twenty minutes later he turns off the TV, swallows hard, and speaks fast—as if the words are grenades he can’t afford to drop.

“I know I mess up sometimes. But if you ever feel unfulfilled”—he gestures vaguely southward, blush blooming—“I’m open to newer arrangements.” He forces his gaze up to yours, all courage and heartbreak. “If you wanted to invite someone else in, or just explore without me, we'll do it.”

Silence.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Steve, what—”

“I can be whatever you need,” he barrels on. “If you want to call the shots in bed—” (You arch a brow; he forges ahead) “—I’m happy to let you lead. In fact, I like it. Thought maybe you didn’t know that.”

Oh. Oh. The puzzle pieces click together: extraordinary dinner, foot rub, open-relationship clause, sudden enthusiasm for being your prettiest bottom. All because you said we need to talk.

A laugh—half love, half exasperation—bubbles out of you. Steve’s face falls; he thinks you’re laughing at him.

“Steve, sweetheart, no.” You cup his cheek. “I’m laughing at myself for not realizing how that sentence hit your 1940s anxiety circuits.” You press a kiss to his forehead. “I’m not dumping you. I wouldn't even dream of doing so.”

He blinks. “You’re not?”

“I just wanted to talk about adopting Lucky from Clint—you know, the pizza dog? We need a proper plan before we bring home a Labrador with a carb addiction.”

Beat. Steve’s mouth opens, closes, opens again. A laugh bursts from him, bright and shaky, and he folds forward till his forehead rests against your sternum.

“Lord, I’m an idiot.”

“My big, handsome idiot,” you correct, threading fingers through his hair. You maneuver him so he’s sitting between your thighs, broad shoulders bracketed by yours—a posture that says I’ve got you. Fingers slide under his chin, tilting his face up.

“Listen carefully, Rogers. I’m satisfied. I’m crazy about you—your dad-joke smile, your post-mission baby-blue hoodies, the way you still thank café baristas like they just saved the world.” Your thumb strokes his lower lip. “And yeah, I like being in charge sometimes. But I never doubted that you’d let me.”

His cheeks go rosy. “It’s not that I let you—”

“I know.” Your grin turns wicked. “You love it.”

He shivers. “Maybe a little bit.”

“There’s the honesty I wanted.” You lean down, kiss him slow, claiming. His lips part on a soft gasp, surrendering with the effortless grace of a man who could flip a truck but would rather melt under your touch. When you break for air, he’s gazing up like you hung the moon.

“So,” you whisper near his ear, “about Lucky: do you accept dog-dad duty?”

He nods emphatically. “I’ll sew him a shield-shaped collar.”

“Overachiever,” you tease. “Now, since you’ve already cooked and declared me king of the bedroom—”

“Forever,” he murmurs.

“—I think it’s time to show you how much your efforts are appreciated. Upstairs. March.”

His breathing stutters; then the soldier surfaces just long enough to obey a direct order. He stands, but you snag his belt loop, tug him back for a final reminder. “Next time I say we need to talk, assume I mean something mundane and ask before spiraling, okay?”

“Yes, sir.” His answering smile holds relief, devotion, and a glint of anticipation.

[beah388love]

Green Daddy?

18+ Minors DNI!!!

Full Masterlist Marvel Masterlist

Pairing: Daddy!Bruce Banner x little!reader

Summary: Bruce turns into hulk….

Warnings: swearing,age regression,fighting,shouting,arguing,crying!!!(please tell me if I missed any!!!)

“Calm down You big Green Giant!” Tony said as he tried to hold onto the back of his arm.

Steve groans in pain as he feels the wall he was just thrown into break an echo going through the whole building.

Hulk threw his arm, causing Tony to go flying head first into a desk, luckily he was in his Ironman suit.

“Fuck me….” Nat said trying to catch her breath as she was also thrown off of hulks back, flipping her in the air directly onto the ground.

And that was when they heard a tiny voice amongst the shouting.

“Dada?”

“Sam” Tony shouted as he got up again trying to keep Bruce away from you.

Motherfucker. “Morning sweetie c’mere” Sam said in a high pitched voice as he held his arms out for you but you began to cry catching hulks attention.

“Dada? I want dada” you cried as you tried to push Sam’s arms off of you.

“C’mon pumpkin calm down” Sam said to you but it sounded more to himself when he saw hulk was walking towards you two.

He took two giant stomps whilst throwing Nat onto the floor and Thor into a wall.

“Cupcake?” Hulk roared as he stormed towards you and Sam.

“Fuck..fuck..” Sam muttered to himself as he shielded you behind him as you cried.

“Dada! I want my dada!” You cried as you tried to push Sam off of you.

You had seen hulk before, only once. And he accidentally bruised your arm from being too strong, but he didn’t mean to and everyone knew that except Bruce. He swore to never be around you as hulk after that.

Untiiiil now.

“Let her go” hulk roared to Sam as he tried to push him without hurting you.

“Hey you better get back! Because if you don’t then banner is gonna kill me!” Sam yelled and hulk shrugged pushing Sam away into the kitchen sides.

You gasped a cry when you saw Sam be thrown like that. “Dada! We don’t hurt friends!” You cried at him shaking a finger at him like he does to you.

Hulk sat down making the whole ground move.

He then hesitantly held his hand out, you walked onto it holding onto his finger when he lifted his hand up to his face.

“Cupcake” he mumbled to you softly, well soft for hulk anyway.

You was now eye to eye to him and he leaned in and gave you a ‘little’ peck on the nose but from his size it was more of a slobbery big kiss.

You giggled wiping your face.

You watched hulk slowly turn into your ‘normal dada’ again.

And instead of being in his hand you was now in his arms.

Bruce hugged you tightly breathing in your scent for comfort.

“Cupcake…you okay?” Bruce mumbled into your messy hair and you nodded

“M’tired dada” you yawned making him chuckle.

“Alright cupcake” he smiled holding you on his hip.

“Bruce?” Sam groaned in pain as he stood up.

“I’m sorry Sam..you alright?”

“Yeah no I’m great” Sam said sarcastically making you giggle.

“I’ll take care of these guys, you go get her to bed” Sam smiled at you giving your cheek a squish.

“Alright, see you in a bit” he said before taking you back to your bedroom.

“Dada you was Green! Like a booger!” You squealed making him laugh.

“I know baby..I know” he said through a chuckle.

[uhhhj13iguess]

you’re safe

mcu!peter parker x avenger!reader

summary: part two to this horrifying bad boy. the aftermath of peter rescuing you on a mission

wc: ~2.1k

cw: body horror (definitely not as bad as the last one), detailed use of needles, descriptive feelings of being on the verge of consciousness, a general vibe of ptsd but like a lot of fluff and peter is such a puppy! and a cute bruce banner cameo because i love him and he should be appreciated more

masterlist and taglist!

you couldn't quite explain how you felt.

everything felt fuzzy, like you weren't quite there. you couldn't see, for one, but the rest of your senses felt faded as well. you equated it to the immeasurable blood loss you can only assume you've experienced, not even sure from what at this point. you can't quite make sense of how you felt, sensations delayed and muted, but you’re sure something hurts.

actually, you're pretty sure everything hurts.

you weren't in peter's arms anymore, no. maybe a bed of some kind. you could hear people around you talking, but everything was jumbled and charlie-brown-esque.

your name, maybe.

you tried to focus, tried to listen to what people were saying and gauge any awareness of your surroundings, but your memory at this point lasted word to word. something about five hours.

five hours? is that how long it's been?

you could've sworn it had been days, in and out of consciousness often enough to mess with your perception of time. suddenly, the support underneath you stuttered and came to a halt.

was i moving?

how long have i been lying down?

you try to open your eyes but you were met with great resistance, the ache in your head becoming louder and much sharper. giving up on sight, you move to the next sense, using all the strength left in your body to move your hands around you and feel for any indication of what was going on. there was a firm pressure on your palm, another hand wrapped in your own.

(y/n)

jesus, i'm talking to myself. that really can't be a good sign. you did your best to give a faint squeeze to whoever's hand you were holding.

"(y/n),"

okay, that one was a little louder. i don't understand what's —

"(y/n)!" peter.

with a weak inhale, you choked out peter's name, the brunette at your side responding with a strong exhale, the first since he lost you hours ago.

peter stood next to the gurney you lay on inside the quinjet, bruce frantic on the other side gathering supplies and preparing an IV drip. he glanced towards both of you after hearing your voice.

"(y/n)? hun, are you with us?" his shoulders visibly relaxed as he watched you nod. bruce looked up at peter.

"kid, i need to get an IV in her to get her some fluids and shit, okay?" bruce said in a calm tone, large needle tightly gripped in his raised hand.

peter gulped at the sight and looked down towards you as you began to stir where you lay. panic began to flood his body as he watched your eyes anxiously wander underneath your sewn lids, red flesh tugging at the thread, begging to be freed.

his arms flew up to grab your shoulders. "hey, hey, hey."

"what did he say? is he putting something in me?"

"(y/n), sweetheart, please. calm down, everything's okay—"

"no, peter, please. no more peter, i— please, what's going on?"

the sound of your cracking voice shattered his heart, the fear on your face etched into his memory permanently, a sight that knocked all the wind out of him. using more strength than he’d ever wanted to use with you, he laid your back against the gurney again.

"(y/n), please. i need you to listen to me, i'm right here. it's just me and dr. banner, okay? you're safe now, i promise."

though your face didn't show it, peter could feel how your body relaxed at his affirmation. he repeated it, rubbing his hands up and down your biceps. "you're safe. it's just us."

you gave a soft nod, hot tears burning your raw eyelids as they escaped the threshold. the fat tears turned pink as they rolled down your cheek, wetting the dried blood that crusted your waterline and the thread attached.

bruce looked at peter, giving him a sympathic smile as he cleared his throat. "(y/n)? i need to give you an IV, okay? just a small needle in your arm and then you'll start feeling a lot better, alright?"

your breathing began to pick up again, lips parted and shaking as you frantically felt around for peter. he grabbed both of your hands instantly, leaning down to coo in your ear. "hey hey hey. its going to be okay, bug. i'm right here, i'll walk you through everything he's doing, okay?"

you let out a shaky exhale before nodding with hesitation, no longer feeling very trusting with your autonomy having been ripped from you not too long ago. peter gave you a soft smile that he knew you couldn't see, but hoped you could feel. he squeezed your hand and looked to bruce, a slight nod signaling he could start. you heard packaging ripping and the sound rang through your ears, deafening as you began to lose your grip on reality again.

peter's voice pulled you back down, gentle and soothing in your ears. "you're okay. he's opening his supplies and getting the alcohol ready, okay? he's got to clean the area first, so it might feel a little cold on the crook of your elbow. you're okay, bug, you're doing great. take a deep breath with me, okay?"

you complied, taking in as much air as your lungs could handle. he was right: the alcohol swab on your skin felt cold, goosebumps snaking their way up your arms as he scrubbed the area. it was filthy, you were sure. you could feel the grime and blood coating your skin in a thick, waxy layer.

you took another deep breath. "you're doing so good, bug."

the sensation fizzled away, bruce no longer touching you. you turned expectantly towards the sound of movement, anxiously awaiting the needle coming your way. peter picked up on your unease immediately.

"hey! hey, you're okay. i've got my eyes on it the entire time, you're safe, okay?" you nodded, and he let out a quick breath.

"okay. he's got the needle ready. it's going to be a small prick — but! it's going to be so fast and that's it! nothing else, okay? you can do this, i know you can." his voice fell to a hush as he let one of his hands glide through your hair, his comforting touch giving you the strength to let this happen.

"okay, peter. i trust you."

you heard a scoff come from your other side. "what am i, chopped liver? i'm the one with the vial of morphine here."

you let out a strained laugh, bruce bringing a smile to your face for the first time in nearly six hours. "you too, banner. thank you."

he gave a smile you couldn't see. "alright kid, take a deep breath."

you did as instructed, and peter did just as he promised, walking you through everything that was going on and watching over you like a hawk. it wasn't that he didn't trust bruce, not at all. he just couldn't forgive himself if something else happened to you under his watch.

peter grimaced as he watched the silver bevel pierce your freshly cleaned skin, the metal pulling and tugging at your soft flesh as bruce fought to secure a vein. he cringed as you let out a weak cry, guilt wracking his chest as he apologized to you over and over again, a newfound prayer on his lips. he felt horrible for putting you in more pain, but he knew it was for the best.

"aha! got it. okay kid, hard parts over. now for the happy drugs."

you gave a relieved smile as you felt the cooling sensation of the saline flooding through your arms, immediately cooling your overheating body down. you visibly relaxed, and peter felt like he could breathe again. he squeezed your hand, bringing it up to his lips and giving it a chaste kiss, his lips warm on your now chilly fingers.

"thank you. both of you."

peter and bruce exchanged a smile before each giving a soft touch to your arms. bruce noticed the extent of your injuries for the first time, the triaged webbing covering the gashes in your arms, the rest of your skin bruised and bloody. he didn't dare meet the tubes in your chest, he wasn't sure he could stomach it.

"b— dr. banner?"

"yeah, pete. what's up?"

peter looked as though he were going to throw up. "w-what about... the..." he gestured up towards his eyes.

bruce met your unresponsive gaze. he could taste the bile in the back of his throat as he stared at your swollen, mangled eyelids. the threading pulled taut through your delicate flesh, ripping it apart literally at the seams, the skin bloody and raw.

"yeah," he let out in a meek voice. "(y/n), how you doing, kid?"

a soft groan was given in return, a weak thumbs up bringing a smirk to peter's lips. "better. morphine?"

"morphine."

a quiet chuckle. "awesome. what's up? you guys sound weird."

bruce shifted uncomfortably. "do— or, um, would you rather us take out your... stitches now? or wait until surgery?"

your breathing immediately picked up, fingers once again straining to find peter. "surgery? what? what happened to me? what did they do?"

"it's okay! we'll explain everything, but right now, you're safe. let's take it one step at a time, okay? can you do that with me?"

peter worried it came off patronizing, but hearing it grounded you again, knowing he was being nothing but genuine right now. he told you that you were safe, and you believed him.

a soft nod was shortly followed by a blood-stained tear running down your bruised cheek. "okay."

he brought your hand to his lips so you could feel his smile. "thank you,"

"now, a scary question, but it's just a yes or no!" he watched your lips curl to a frown.

"you're fully in control! the question is scary, but everything is up to you, okay?" a slight nod. peter took a deep breath.

"right now, your eyes are... they're, um," he couldn't stomach saying it. that would make it real, as if it already wasn't directly in front of him. he scowled to himself. "your eyes, they're... sewn. shut, i— i mean. fuck,"

he was supposed be the strong one right now, he thought. and he couldn't even make out a fucking sentence. fuck.

"would you like us to clip the thread now that you've had some pain relief, or do you want to wait until you're back at the hospital?"

your frown stayed the same, eyebrows knit together as you took in everything he said. peter couldn't take the silence and kept rambling.

"we've already taken off — there's another jet on it's way for the rest of the team. we'll be home in about an hour, so if you want to wait, it won't be too long. you could even try and rest if you wanted,"

he rubbed the back of your palm with his thumb. "but i also understand if you want to be able to see again. obviously." he quickly added.

you thought about it for a bit, slowly becoming entranced under peter's soothing and rhythmic touch. with the IV in and working magic on your throbbing head, you gave him a soft shrug in response.

"i think... i mean i am pretty exhausted. and i don't know if i could consciously handle feeling… that again."

peter cringed as you talked about it, a rock in his stomach as he thought about everything you'd experienced. how much pain you'd felt.

"of course, i'm sorry to even ask."

"no!" you tried to sit up in retaliation, immediately regretting it as everything in your body pounded. you gave a sharp hiss, feeling peter's warm hands on your shoulders as he eased you back against the gurney.

"i mean, please don't apologize. thank you so much, peter. you saved me. i... i don't even know how to thank you properly. i don't think i can." pink tears kissed your cheeks again, your breathing wavered.

"hey, take a breath, sweetheart. you don't have to thank me. i'm so sorry this happened. i..." he took a deep breath, centering himself. "i think you should get some rest right now and we can talk more later, okay?"

you grinned at his concern for you. "pete?"

"yeah?"

"will you be there when i wake up?"

he smirked against the back of your hand again. "i’m never letting you out of my sight again."

[smilelikeacheshirecat]

Marvel reacting to you staring at them.

Tony: what? You need money?

Steve: *smiles* can I help you?

Natasha: *staring contest, she won*

Loki: *smirk* like what you see?

Thor: *confused* what?

Wanda: *head tilt with sweet smile*

Peter P: hey, what—Whats up?

Yelena: *offers her macaroon* you want?

Kate: it there something on my face?

Bruce: *smiles and gets back to work*

Bucky: *leans closer and stares intently*

Clint: *confuse, looks behind then back at you*

Pietro: *snaps his finger*

© anniedvorak to some of the interaction go watch her videos at tiktok

[fandomnerd9602]

Toni stark with a Hulk reader pls

Toni tenderly approaches Hulk!Y/N…

Toni: hey big guy. It just me

Y/N calms down a little…

Toni: I need my science bro back.

Hulk: does Toni like Hulk too?

Toni: I love you and puny (Y/N) equally. You know that

Y/N transforms back to normal…

Y/N: and we love you too

Toni hugs Y/N tightly, giggling and happy…

[teddypines]

Nighttime Troubles

----------------------------------------------------------------

Summary: Y/N having trouble sleeping with out their dad while their other parents try to calm them down and get Tony back in bed.

Note: Gn!Reader, around 3 years old. Yes Soap is the name of her sheep plushie, because i love my Soapie to much and he needed to be in my story.

Art/picture is from Pinterest, credits go to whoever made it. I just put it together like this.

Translations: Dorogoy = Sweetheart (And expensive, for some reason, if you know why this is please tell me. Translate is weird.)

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N was having a rough couple of nights, the nightmares they had were getting too much for their little mind. Feeling so many big feelings and seeing scary things in their dreams. This didn’t bother the Avengers however, they all loved the little koala. Their koala was a bit of all of them. Their little miracle in life, their light. After defeating Loki everything went pretty fast for the Avengers and just 2 years later they got married, all 6 of them (Tony bribed the minister and the person that would approve the paperwork) and in 2015 their little koala was born. 

Natasha was walking Y/N around the master bedroom, shushing them as she bounced them a bit in her arms. “shhhh, Dorogoy, it’s okay momma is here. No more nightmares, shhh.” She whispered to the little one as Thor came back into the room with a few extra plushies from Y/N’s room. “I didn’t know which one they would want, so i got them all.” Clint laughed a bit and grabbed the little sheep plushie from the stack in Thor’s arm. “This one, Soap, remember this one Thor. Soap is the favorite.” Natasha rolled her eyes and kissed Y/N’s cheeks.

After a few minutes Steve was done warming up Y/N’s bottle and quickly made his way back to the bedroom. “Any progress?” He asked worriedly as he handed Natasha the bottle. “No, not yet, Bruce is still trying to get Tony to come to bed, but he’s probably dealing with his own nightmares.” Clint answered. They all knew that Y/N slept the best between Bruce and Tony. Probably because they liked being in a science sandwich and Bruce and Tony were the warmest out of the parents. Natasha yawned as she sat down on the bed with Y/N. “Thor? Do you still have that story book somewhere? that one with both folktales and fairytales?” She asked, hoping that reading to Y/N would calm them down.

“Yes! I’ll grab it and read to the little one!” Thor cheered as he walked over to the book shelf and grabbed the book Natasha mentioned. He went to the bed and sat next to Natasha and Y/N before starting to read in the soft tone he only used with Y/N. “This one is called ‘The Forest Bride’. There was once a farmer who had three sons,” Thor read to Y/N, and secretly Natasha. Y/N wasn't crying anymore as they suckled on their bottle while listening to Thor reading their favorite story. 

Steve and Clint smiled at the three of them on the bed. “I’ll go check on Bruce and Tony.” Steve said before stepping away from Clint. Sadly Steve jinxed it, Bruce walked into the bedroom. Clint gave Bruce a worried look and opened his arms for him. Bruce walked defeated into Clint’s arms. “I tried, he just won’t listen to me right now. He’s scared to go to bed and then hurt Y/N if he wakes up” Bruce explained quietly. Steve sighed. “I'm going to talk to him, this is the biggest load of bull shit i’ve ever heard, and that is saying a lot.” he fumed before leaving the bedroom. 

Bruce looked over at the bed and saw Natasha asleep against Thor with Y/N on her lap. Thor was still reading the story to their koala. Clint looked down at Bruce. “Wanna go sit with them?” Bruce nodded and Clint smiled as he helped Bruce to the bed. He made sure Natasha, Bruce and Y/N were okay with Thor, who was now happily reading the next story in the book, before following after Steve.

When Clint was close to the lab he could hear Steve and Tony yelling at each other. He walked around the corner and saw Tony tinkering on one of his suites while Steve yelled from Bruce’s desk. 

“Just don’t Steve, just don’t, okay? I am not going to bed!” Tony hissed as he slammed down his screwdriver. “No, I won't let you stay up like this. You have to sleep, you need sleep to function. How are you supposed to take care of yourself or Y/N if you are not sleeping, not well rested. You know it's safe in the bedroom, you know you won’t hurt us or Y/N. You know damn well that you are just running away right now!” Before Steve could say more Clint put a hand on his back and gave him a look. 

Tony looked over at Steve when he didn’t continue his rant. He saw Clint by Steve's side, he let out a big sigh before responding. “I think I know my own health better than you do Star Spangled Banner. Now leave me alone! I do not need this! I do not need sleep. I do not need you, or anyone else to take care of me! I am fine!” He yelled at both his husbands. He didn’t need them, didn't need to be told he wasn't actually doing fine, but even with a few years of therapy and loving partners, Tony could still fall back into old habits. 

Clint tried to reach out for Tony, tried to tell him he was wrong but yelling came from the hallway before he could. A very angry Natasha, followed by Thor and Bruce came Into the lab. Y/N in her arms. “Anthony Edward Stark! Hold your child!” She hissed before handing Y/N over to Tony. Y/N reached out for Tony and he reluctantly took them from Natasha. “Daddy…” Y/N whispered into Tony's shoulder. This broke Tony a bit, not just a bit, but more than he liked to admit.

“I… I think I might need some help… And Someone to take care of me and take me too bed…” Tony admits as he held the little koala. Natasha smiled and grabbed onto Tony's arms. “Let's get you two to bed. Thor will continue his story and you two can cuddle with Bruce. We'll deal with the rest tomorrow” Natasha said before leading Tony away from his work.

Soon after both Y/N and Tony were on the big bed. Thor reads more of his stories to Y/N, and the others. As Bruce held Tony close with Y/N in between their science sandwich. Y/N was already fast asleep when Thor finished the first story. With Natasha following shortly after. Clint was the next one to fall asleep, somewhere between story three and four, happily in Steve’s arms. Thor fell asleep while reading after Steve fell asleep. But Tony stayed awake, like Bruce. Him keeping an eye on Tony. 

“Want to talk about it?” Bruce asked Tony, he was worried. “Not right now. Is that okay? we will talk about this later?” Tony answered to which Bruce pulled him closer, letting Tony be the little spoon. “Yeah, that is okay. But we are going to talk about this, because we are worried and want to help you, because we love you. Just like we love this little koala.” Bruce said before fixing Y/N’s hair a bit. “Just let us help you like you always want to help them.” Tony nodded his head slowly before kissing Y/N’s head. “We’ll talk after I slept for more than 6 hours.”

“Just close your eyes” Bruce whispered before he felt a small kick against his back. “Go to sleep” Steve whisper yelled tiredly. Y/N hugged Tony’s arm and snored a bit as Bruce and Tony finally closed their eyes to sleep.

<--------------------------------------------------------->

Somewhere in the middle of the night Soap, the sheep plushie, fell out of the bed. This was quickly noticed by Y/N who started to wiggle out of the science sandwich. they crawled to the end of the bed and reached over the end towards Soap. they almost had the plushie before losing balance. With a small thud they fell off the bed and hit their bum on the floor. 

Loud crying woke everyone but Clint, he didn’t wake up since he didn't have his hearing aid on. Yes he forgot to take them out after falling asleep next to Thor and the battery was now dead. Steve was the first to get to Y/N he picked up the little one and the sheep. “shhh, baby doll, it’s okay. Daddy is here, shhh, you’re safe in daddy’s arms.” Steve whispered to Y/N. Thor shifted over to Steve and Y/N and carefully took them from Steve. He gently put Y/N underneath his nightshirt and held them and Soap against his chest.

Thor always thought Y/N was given extra sensitive and given bigger emotions by the gods then normal people, or Asgardians. They were he’s sensitive little angel, who needed a lot of touch to feel safe and deal with the big emotions and feelings. “There we go little poptart. Nice and warm with pappa, no one can hurt you here.” Thor rubbed Y/N’s back as he took them back to the bed. Steve smiled at Thor and how comfortable Y/N looked against him. “Owh look at you, are you comfy with pappa?” Natasha asked the sleepy toddler when Thor lay down next to her. Y/N nodded their head and stuck their thumb into their mouth.

“So no need for a science sandwich anymore I see. Well i'll be back in the lab if you all need me” Tony announced and tried to walk past Bruce and Steve. Only for Steve to grab Tony by his shirt collar and pulls him back towards him and Bruce. “You need sleep, Tony. Back in bed.” Steve said in a stern but caring tone. “Or what?” Tony tried. “Or I will lock the lab and you won’t be able to go in until we think you can go in again. No more new Ironman suites or weird nicknacks. No more Peter Parker coming over for his ‘internship’.” Steve answered. The thing about not doing fun science things with Peter did it and Tony walked back to the bed. Tony liked (Loved) Peter too much, some might say he was his son. 

Bruce and Steve made it back to the bed and lay down besides the others. Y/N was already fast asleep again underneath Thor’s shirt. Clint was still asleep and snoring as Natasha cuddled up to him. The others pulled the covers back up and snuggled up before going back to sleep. Tony did try to sneak out of bed again once when he thought everyone was sleeping. only for Steve to pull Tony back onto the bed and hold him against him.

[marveldcfandom]

Y/N helping Bruce & Bob with their trauma.

Y/N: You guys have a lot in common. loneliness & childhood trauma. It’s okay, you both are not alone.

Bruce: We are the same, Bob. The Hulk & The Void are our monsters.

Bob: At least, I have someone to relate to.

GIFs from @dimesbags & @doctor-brucebanner

[missmarveledsblog]

It's only pretend right? ( Bucky barnes x reader) part two

summary : the morning the two get to the ranch only to discover the stay is longer than intended , Bucky meets her family some great and some honestly pissed him off , as if the seeing her judgemental family her ex was also there but still in all that she ignored it ready to show bucky they things that made her love coming home shitty extended family or not

warning: majority of this is fluffy some shitty people but bucky is there to keep her smiling

(previous part )

“ wakey wakey kiddo” Clint's voice boomed throughout the room sending her startled form out the bed. “ we’re leaving in 20 minutes. I was also informed to tell you that  Bucky will have food and coffee  on the jet” he chuckled seeing her on the floor glaring up at the man.

 “ gotta ask laura if she would enjoy the widow life , ” she grumbled heading towards the bathroom .

 “ nah she loves me too much and so do you ,  just not like how you love  bucky” he teased .

 “ Everybody knows I like bucky?”she came out a minute later.

 “ everyone but bucky , enhanced sense my ass” he muttered. 

“ it’s 5 am even steve knows to not wake me up so early bird man what is your deal ” she whined looking at the phone. 

“ Get dressed, you can sleep on the jet” he called, pushing her back to the bathroom with the clothes the girls were so kind to pick out for her the night before.

“ when did you become so bossy?” she growled 

 “ Oh shut up , get dressed,” he chuckled . 

“ told you she doesn’t like to be woken up , she didn’t stab you either that good” nat assessed. 

“ she didn’t get a chance” he winked.

 “ Nat Your MALE best friend is going to be visiting the bermuda triangle so say bye bye” she walked out rubbing her  eyes and yawning before shooting the man with another glare.

 “ Nice knowing you barton , you grumpy sit down” she saluted the man before taking the hair brush in her hand. She sat as nat tackled the bird nest that was her bed head eyes dropping slightly  .

 “ Ten more minutes” she mumbled before Clint lifted her up, making her yelp before walking out the room and down the hallway , Nat following after.

 “Are you excited to see your family kid?… Y/n … is she .. she’s asleep” he turned to see nat standing trying to suppress her laughter as the woman on his shoulders let out soft snores .

 “ oh this little shit”he grumbled heading out to the jet . 

“ hey doll” bucky smirked seeing  clint carrying her onto the jet. 

“She’s still asleep” he grunted, placing her down on the chair as she stirred , waking up again. 

“ Here's some coffee doll,” the man smiled .

 “ hey thank you bucky , good morning” she beamed before taking a generous gulp. “ Where was my goodmorning “ Clint looked to her, arms crossed.

“ back in the room when you scared it out of me” she took the tupperware filled with food.

 “ Just friends my ass” he turned, seeing the two filled with adoration for each other . 

The trip wasn’t long enough when Clint landed the jet near her family's ranch before rushing them out .

 “ Enjoy , have fun  and I'll collect you guys in two weeks” he called a mischievous smirk as the two spun around.

 “ Did  he just say two weeks?” she asked.

 “ he did and apparently we weren’t told” he held up the phone to see the team texting them to enjoy the time off.

 “ I mean I have Stark's black card so the second week doesn’t have to be here” she held the black plastic up and a devious smirk on her face.

 “  I mean I could use a vacation” he chuckled, both turning to see her mother and father coming out smiles painted on their faces as they walked up the drive. 

“ Natasha just told me we have you both for two weeks isn’t that exciting,” her mother cooed.

 “ she is not getting that prada bag.. Hey mama , pops where is everyone” she smiled softly hugging them. 

“ Nice to see you sir , ma'am,” bucky smiled, shaking their hands.

 “ Son, call me frank” her father pulled him into a hug . 

“ and me beth , your aunt owes me fifty  for this” she giggled, hugging  her then him . “So good to see you both  but i must say seeing her smile this hour of the morning is strange, you must have the touch mr barnes” her father chuckled. 

“ Please call me Bucky or James, please both of you and I didn't wake her. It is my secret” he laughed.

 “ I aint that bad” she grumbled. 

“ doll loki is afraid to go near your room in the morning and i think Clint learned his lesson” he nudged her softly.

 “ he’s not wrong , i mean you nearly stabbed jack” her mother nodded.

 “ Well my dumbass brother shouldn’t have worn a mask” she rolled her eyes.  

“ Speaking of Jack , he  and Helen and Izzy and Maya are staying at a hotel along with the rest of the family.”  her mother smiled as she and her father cheered.

 “ oh give it up to you two , grandma is still staying here” her mother rolled her eyes. `` which one?” she whispered to her dad while Bucky smiled at the close bond the two seem to share. 

“ Her mother ,  so the evil one” her dad winced. 

“ Bucky ..baby you’re catholic right? '' she asked .  

“ I mean I was back in the 40s” He almost melted at the pet name. 

 “ She's going bingo Thursday  so Izzy will propose to Maya then  it will be just us as a family rest will be out ” her mother sadly smiled.

 “ Why do we have to entertain these assholes?” Y/N asked.

 “ Because they are still family, '' her mother shot back . 

“ Well they don’t treat us like that,” she shook her head.

 “ it's not even for the full week we can do it kitty” her dad wrapped his arm around her as they approached the house. “ your mama set your room up for both of you so bring your bags up and join us for breakfast” he smiled as she froze turning to her friend.

 “ Sorry I didn’t think we’d have to share a room for a week, nevermind two” she winced. 

“ it’s ok we bunked together on a mission and sleepover in the compound” he brushed it off pretending his prayers weren’t just answered and frankly he thought his acting skills were Oscar worthy at that moment .

 “ ok we can do this” she nodded before taking his hand in hers . 

“ Show me the way, little cowgirl” he winked, making her burst into laughter.

Thankfully the rest of the morning was quiet once they finished breakfast ,she helped her mom with preparing lunch while Bucky offered to help her father with some of the chores on the ranch. 

“ My , my a  little kitty has gotten into the kitchen” she heard the voice before she felt him lift her up swinging her in a bruising hug.

 “ Jack in the box” she laughed excitedly. 

“ Where is this fella who thinks he’s good enough for my little sister?” he puffed his chest and stood a little taller.

 “Behind you” her father chuckled as the two walked into the kitchen .

 “ holy shit that’s sergeant james barnes' ' her brother's tough guy act fell instantly.

 “ aww shit i owe mama 50” her sister izzy pushed past the men before hugging her sister tightly. 

“  Who else owes you money?” She turned to her mother. 

“ A couple of your uncles and aunts,” she shrugged, heading back to the food. 

“ So where are my future sister in laws?” she asked quietly. 

“ how good at you with controlling that little gift of yours” jack stood back shooting izzy a worried glance. 

“ Why are you asking?” she crossed her arms as the man gulped. 

“They’re outside with Eli. '' Izzy called  hiding  behind jack.

 '' as in the cheating ,  dick of an ex left me alone in a big city alone , that eli '' she felt the heat on her finger tips til a sudden coldness snapped her back to reality  .

 “ I got you, '' Bucky whispered in that voice, instantly melting the annoyance.

 “ fuck please never leave” izzy patted the man on the back 

.” yeah took us forever to grow out our  eyebrows last time  , he’s my best friend and helen's brother” he smiled sadly to his sister . 

“ KITTY” her head whipped to see the two women pulling her to their arms. 

 “ good to see you Y/N” his voice had the hair on her body standing like bucky could sense it pulling her to him and wrapping his arm around her waist tightly.

 “ See my sister the avenger pulled sergeant james barnes” Jack smiled brightly.

 “ Please, it’s bucky” he waved to them .

 “I'm a big fan, Bucky,” Eli smiled.

 “ Mr. Barnes to you son” he turned, ignoring the outstretched hand pulling the knife out of his back pocket . " i forget i had this , hey beth why do i help you with lunch my knife skills are almost criminal " he smirked seeing the man pale .  

“ I like this one,” her father beamed.  

“ Me too” Helen chuckled before shooting her own brother a glare. 

.................

“ So how did y’all meet?” Eli asked, taking his seat across , most of the family arriving. 

“ work dummy” Helen rolled her eyes. 

“ oh yeah your mom told us you took to being an avenger , what are you the secretary? '' her uncle joked.

 “ No, she is part of the team , she beast on a mission.. But always safe, super cautious "Bucky spoke up ,then he added seeing the worry on her parents' faces . 

“ I mean she's always been a spitfire,” Jack chuckled.

 “ yeah she beat up those boys that picked on you when we were kids” izzy high fived her little sister.

 “ You allow her to do that,” another uncle scoffed. 

“ I don't own her so she’s free to do what she wants ma’am” bucky laughed thinking it was a joke but from her expression , he wondered what else she hid from the team when it came to her own family.

 “ We thought it was made up, “ her aunt laughed as her shoulder tense. 

“ Is  your son  out of rehab yet oh sorry i wasn’t supposed to say that was i? is he out of that college for drugs ” her father asked as she and her sibling hide the giggles. 

“Hey bucky wanna see my horse? '' she asked, feeling the man's jaw clench and tension build throughout the table .

 “ Sure doll” he smiled softly when his eyes set on her . Almost pulling him out the door as they all watched judging like always . she barely got out the door before he pulled her to a halt .

 “ ok what the hell was that” he asked with an almost sad tone in his voice. 

“ I may be the black sheep of a judgmental as hell family. I know I should've warned you,” she let out a sigh, wringing her hands.

 " Is this why you don’t visit home much?” he asked softly.

 “ You cracked that code huh?, i mean even if she can be bitchy i still write to my grandma and my folks visit and i ring siblings regularly but the rest i avoid because i’m never good enough and I thought maybe with a boyfriend and great job would help nope” she sighed. 

“ How long are they staying for?” he asked, wrapping his arms around as she melted in his embrace. 

“ They leave in a couple of days which is too long” her father's voice rang out. “ you ok kitty?” he asked softly.

 “ I'm fine papa , we're going to bring bucky on my trail ” she smiled sadly. 

“ What is this kitty I keep hearing?” Bucky asked, smiling as her cheeks heated. 

“ oh she ain’t told you that one yet , ” her father chuckled . “ After the madness i’ll tell you “ he added before walking into the house.

 “ Let's go see these horses” she rushed off before he could ask her more.

 “ Oh no back here doll face ” he chuckled, chasing after her as her father watched from the front door with a smile so wide he couldn’t remember the last time he saw it so free on her face not a force one as she took the battering of their words  . 

“ he's a bit old for her, no? '' her fathers eyes rolled walking in they barely waited til she was out the door before the nit picking started . 

 '' yeah isn’t he like a hundred or something” eli added.

 “ he was frozen doesn’t count” her brother shook his head 

“ he makes her smile i don’t care if he is a thousand years old” her father almost snapped at the guest at the table. 

“ That job is so unsafe, people are gonna know she one of those thing ” her aunt shook her head. 

“Well ain't we lucky you ain’t doing it , she could be a lunch lady and you’d find a problem in it and ain't nothing wrong with her ” he looked at the woman .

 “What is your problem with Y/N? least she not a junkie or a dim witted whore like your kids '' izzy asked hating how it was alway y/n they would attack or show disgust at . 

'' You know what our problem is? She’s not even … ''. 

“ everybody stop yelling and eat your food” the elderly woman yelled, instantly shutting them up, eyeing the sneaking touches from her eldest granddaughter before the two went to eat their food. “ Sorry mama” and “ grandmama” were uttered around the table as the woman looked out the window  at her granddaughter running around smiling . “ she is very happy” she murmured as the rest ignored her words, bragging about their fake lives .

 

“ Here bucky bear is star , she is the best horse in the state nah in the whole of the US although i might be biased”she winked as she patted the mare’s side. 

“ she is a pretty one, star nice name ,it's cute ” he mused but  a black mane caught his eyes . “ Who's this?” he asked, walking toward the one across. 

“ Oh moon,  he's the new one , my pops rescued him , the previous owner said he ain’t nothing good but my dad sees the best in everything i think i get that from him” she smiled . 

“ he seems ok to me” he patted the horse .

 “ he’s misunderstood like someone i know” she mused only for the horse to kick the stall . “ You must be fed up there huh buddy” she mused.“ What do you say bucket wanna  see my childhood being little cowgirl and all that ” she walked towards the saddles.

 “ Lead the way doll” he smiled as she handed it to him but the minute the stall opened the jet black stallion made its way toward the almost stark white mare's head rubbing hers.

 “ oh you dirty dog come kicking a fuss for the ladies huh ? ” she chuckled pulling them apart as she led star out both getting them ready before she hopped up with ease.  

“ you make that too easy” he chuckled before not so gracefully getting on the stallion before she took head.  Bought passing the window as her father and brother almost fell over each other seeing bucky easily walk by . 

“ catch me if you can” she giggled before taking off down the trail as his horse followed  after .

  “ Hey, this guy is doing the work” he called.

 “ That's because I think he is  in love” she giggled, enjoying the feeling of the wind in her hair , taking full advantage given she didn’t get to do stuff like this back in the compound. 

“ he’s not the only one” he sighed following after her. Watching her so free and smiling wider wondering if he could get tony to get something like this on the compound just to see her look like that more often .

part three

[cokoladasljesnjakom]

tag you're it

shes a ruthless killer. she does not care if someone dies on her watch. her moves are like shadow. she is a shadow. once you see her, its too late. its not her problem. she cant complain, but what she can do is to complie. thats what is she made for. thats what they made her do. but once she escapes from their grasp, she searches for him. for her brother. but of course what goes around, comes around. and thats is when she meets him. the winter solider. and oh yeah the rest of the avengers.

authors note: hello. this is my first time EVER writing something so yeah. i hope some of you guys will enjoy this story as much as i do because this has been on my mind for MONTHS. n e ways. this is just a begining and buckle up. also the updates will be here but because im bussy they will be slow.

bucky barnes x female! reader

word count : 1.9k or even more idk man just read

the translation is down there like down so yeah enjoy 🫶

masterlist prologue part i

flashback

"but honey you need to eat veggies. you too max. its good for your health and maybe who knows you can get a hot cocoa." the voice ringed out, but she couldnt remeber whos. she really did. she tried with her blood, sweat and tears to remeber anything from her previous life. but no use.

present

"тень?" the man asked. and then it happened. he slapped her. one. two. three. four? shit she forgot how to count. too many times, until she could feel the blood coming out from her nose and lip.

"25 декабря 2006? отчет о миссии прямо сейчас!" 25 december 2006? oh. that. god, she didnt even wanted to think about that.

"миссия выполнена." that was everything she could say. nothing more, nothing less. she says a word more? boom. theres a fist coming up in her face. she says a word less? same shit. but worse consequences.

and there is it. the smile on his face. she watches him moving his mouth, but her mind is elsewhere. trying to remeber the dream. its been haunting her, trying to get up to the surface and to see if she can solve it out. but everytime shes close to a clue ... she looses it.

"you did a good job. you can rest now." the russian accent was hard on his tongue. she hated how his smile didnt bring any comfort but only fear. "but next time i want you to be ready for this тень. that mission is going to be the mission of your life." he laughed? she didnt know, but all she felt was discust.

"вытри ее и уложи спать." he said with discust in his voice, then he added "и убедись, что она замерзнет в этой чертовой комнате." she hated that room. she hated this. she hated herself. she hated everything. and yet, she cant complain, but only complie only.

she felt their hands all over her. she wanted to tell them to stop. to scream and get out. but she cant. she couldnt.

so they wiped her and picked her up to put her in the cyro, strap her down so she could stay straight. she felt cold. and then she felt nothing.

translation!

тень - shadow

25 декабря 2006? отчет о миссии прямо сейчас! - 25th december 2006? mission report right now!

миссия выполнена - mission acomplishment

вытри ее и уложи спать - wipe her and put her to bed

и убедись, что она замерзнет в этой чертовой комнате - and make sure she freezes in that damn room

i hope you enjoyed and if you didnt ... thats okay anyways BYE 😝

[apocalypse-shuffle]

THE HULK & BRUCE BANNER (avengers: earth’s mightiest heroes)

—

“Just My Luck” (Hulk x Fem!Reader) and (Bruce Banner x Fem!Reader)

| Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross tries to pull one over on the Avengers when they go to get Bruce Banner released from government detainment; acting as their consultant, however, you’re more than primed to go head to head with the General for your partners’ freedom.

| SFW, arguing, my shit understanding of military procedure of any kind, drugged characters, some angst, some fluff -professional!irritation!reader

| This exists purely because I want to scream at Ross every time he shows up on the screen or in comic panels. (Pic sources: “Hulk vs The World” - S1EP3 & “Gamma World, Part 2” - S1EP13)

| 4k+ words

“Actually, Stark…”

Uh oh.

You knew Ross not being the one to intercept you all once you got to the Raft wasn’t a good sign.

Talbot, your escort for the afternoon, turns around so he can look Tony in the eyes where his helmet’s faceplate is popped up.

“…we’re pushing for him not to be released, if you’d like to sit in on the meeting,” Talbot finishes, the Major’s mustache twitching as his eyes pass distastefully first over the teams’ leader and then the rest of the Avengers in turn.

Dark blue eyes then stick to your form where you’re standing behind Steve.

Teeth clicking together, you don’t let yourself shift like you want to. His gaze is a physical enough thing you want to shrug it off— want to flip him off too for good measure, but that’s beside the point.

Talbot’s lips quirk as he glances over you, something sharp in his gaze that reminds you conveniently of a rat in that moment.

Except the rat would be far cuter.

The man doesn’t say anything more though, only waiting for Tony’s affirmative before starting down the poorly lit hallway again.

When Talbot turns down a corridor that is clearly not leading to a secure containment cell you can’t even pretend to be surprised. In all but name this was an ambush after all.

And now you were officially irritated.

The room you all are led into is large for a conference room, but there’s absolutely no mistaking it as such either. It’s also packed with plenty of official looking people with all sorts of indicators of military rankings you don’t know or care to know.

Clint curses as he comes up behind you and notices the sheer amount of people in the room and seems to recognize the direct importance of at least a couple of them.

For your part you hardly spare them more than a seconds glance upon entering, eyes sweeping across the crowd in search of one thing and one thing only.

Or one person as it were.

The sight of him once your gaze lands on the dark corner they’ve got him tucked into makes your breath hitch.

The sight of him in prison orange ill-fitting enough to be baggy over his pale frame makes your blood boil and you barely stop yourself from sucking your teeth as you lay eyes on him for the first time in nearly two months.

Bruce’s brown eyes are far away and sunken, dark bags diminishing his usually wry gaze and hands twitching intermittently where they’re strapped down at his sides.

The back of your teeth grind together without your say-so, molars twinging.

Yeah, you didn’t care if you had to fight this entire room, nothing short of death was going to keep you from getting him out of this place.

─────

By the time the meeting’s officially begun your gums have begun to twinge with every press of your molars and Ross has been talking so much shit for the last twenty or so minutes you’re surprised he isn’t throwing it up too.

Just then he starts up about Hulk being an out of control beast without a conscience and it’s so absurd a claim you can’t stop yourself from commenting out loud, even if it is just to yourself.

“Huh,” you scoff, rolling your eyes while staring at your hands in your lap, “that’s a lie,” you grunt quietly.

Not quietly enough it would seem.

From across the room Ross instantly jerks his head up to look at you, the frown already etched onto his face turning severe as if he’d not noticed you until then.

If only you had the same privilege of ignorance when it came to him.

Jaw working as your mind reels, you look the man head on with an arch of one of your brows.

Catching his attention might not have been a part of the plan you’d been attempting to form in your head but you weren’t in the business of giving Ross any inches.

You’d just have to think on your feet.

“Stark,” Ross starts, voice tight, “control your—”

“—Yeah, no,” you assert, talking over him with a level tone and completely skipping over Tony in the process. He knew better than to answer for you anyway. “I’m not Stark’s anything, General. He doesn’t control me.”

“Hn,” Ross grumbles, grinding his teeth together. The ‘somebody ought to,’ goes unsaid but you can see it in the clench of his jaw and the way he tries to…to glare you into submission or some shit.

‘Hn’, indeed.

“Fine,” he grounds out, “Do you have something to add?”

He speaks as if he thinks he’s tripped you up. A large part of you wants to make him regret giving you the room.

Even still, for a moment you contemplate not stirring the pot, taking the out and letting someone else handle him, but really the choice is obvious. There Bruce was stood up in the corner chained and shackled to hell on a stretcher like he was Cletus Fucking Kasady or something, power suppressor collar locked tight around his neck with probably enough sedatives in him to kill an elephant given just how impossibly high he looked, and actively struggling to get a good read on the room.

Bruce’s eyes were so unfocused and glassy, his head so heavy, that you barely caught your frown before the wider room could see it upon first seeing him. Let alone hid the show of emotion how you would’ve liked to as a whole.

Ross wanted to keep him, that much was obvious. But he didn’t care about the man or the so-called monster, which was just as easily noticeable.

General Thaddeus Ross wasn’t fit to keep Bruce Banner or The Hulk safe — captured, sure, but unlike the others on the team that wasn’t something you even remotely cared about — and seemed too inclined to keep them tortured and in easy reach to be experimented on instead for your liking.

“I do,” you say. Tony looks surprised when you glance over to him, but it’s about the only request for permission he’s going to get from you. When he nods, just once, you turn back to Ross and his crossed arms and you smile. “I think that over the years the General and the military have proven untrustworthy when it comes to matters of The Hulk.”

One man huffs in the back, curls cropped short and that same air about him that Ross has. The type of urge to commandeer everything that gave you hives on a good day.

You grit your teeth. Today was not a ‘good day’.

“We captured that beast, didn't we? Banner’s been dozing in his cage for weeks before today, a non threat.”

Cage.

The way your eye twitches is small enough you’d bet no one without a heads up display or enhanced vision could see it.

You shift in your seat, gesturing to the wider room.

“Only after breaking form, though, correct? And stop me if I’m wrong, but both times you successfully captured the Hulk were S.H.I.E.L.D or the Avengers not present and providing crucial aid? So it’s just the same to say that the Avengers have an even better track record of keeping Hulk out of trouble than even the Hulkbusters do, and a room is about as much containment to someone so powerful as Thee Hulk as a cell is.”

“You’re proposing we treat that thing like a—”

“Like a person, yeah. It’s no coincidence that both times you captured the man was because he was reasoned with or otherwise distracted by saving an agent’s life. The Hulk is a person, and he can be stabilized after an episode — which rarely happen without provocation by the way — just like any other man.”

“Other men don’t usually possess the ability to tears tanks apart with their bare hands, Miss.”

“Other men also usually don’t respond rationally when being shot at…” you lean forward to read the man’s name off the gold plate pinned to his breast, “…Fortean.”

Immediately, he clarifies you on his rank, on the fact that you should put it in front of his name. As if you respect him enough for that; these people were lucky you haven’t devolved to schoolyard taunts yet considering just how little you respected them.

“Sure,” you shrug. Fortean grits his teeth, standing up a little taller as he fixes his mouth to say something that he’ll want to be cutting but you know you’ll just blow off.

“Now, Y/n,” Ross cuts the younger man off, pressing him back into the corner like a good obedient lapdog, and swinging the conversation back in his control. “Our hands are the most capable to keep Hulk from sowing destruction everywhere he goes, even if you think being nice to it and letting it play dress up with the Avengers is a suitable containment method that doesn’t account for the fact that everywhere the Hulk goes destruction follows.”

Rogers pipes up before you even can. “Pardon my forwardness, General Ross, but any destruction caused while we fought beside Hulk was due to the impromptu establishment of a battle field in civilian spaces by our enemies, enemies which we stopped with the help of Hulk. The Hulk is a hero, and he was doing his job the same as any other Avenger, Sir.”

Ross smiles, it’s not pleasant but it isn’t condescending either. Lucky Cap.

“And before he joined your team? What of the destruction that followed him then, Captain?”

“Well,” you cut in, doing away with caring about being too forward entirely, “that was mainly you and the Hulkbusters, so the answer is fairly obvious.”

To that Ross stares at you for a second, mouth ticking, and then promptly lets out a gruff bout of laughter. The other military personnel and military officials in the room give a resound chuckle as well.

It echoes around the room for a couple of seconds and each new laugh feels like needles burrowing deeper and deeper into your brain.

You didn’t tell anything nearing a joke so the only reason for this was that they were all laughing at you.

“I’m sorry,” you pipe up, unlocking your jaw to speak after swallowing down the angry tremble you could feel crawling up your throat, “I don’t recall telling a joke.”

Despite your words the room still sobers at everyone else’s own pace and you can’t help but to wish the man would drop dead when you chance a look Fortean’s way and catch the smug upturn of his mouth.

Hulk probably wouldn’t approve, Bruce definitely wouldn’t. You don’t think either would object to you socking him in the jaw though, knocking the smirk right off his face.

“Apologies, Miss,” Ross grunts once he’s finished, eyes glinting. “You’ve provided me with my counter argument though, haven’t you? Or the Captain did. We responded to Hulk’s presence after he made an impromptu battlefield out of a civilian area and people got hurt at his fault when we engaged in our duty to this country. We did our jobs”

“That’s not how I see it.”

Ross stops just short of glowering at you, pausing in the pointed looks he’s giving the officials in the room to narrow his eyes your way.

“Well then you’re seeing it wrong.”

“No.” Ross’s eye twitches. It’s visible. Same as the vein that protrudes across his temple. You cross your arms, shrugging even as you narrow your gaze on him a little more in tandem. “Is it incorrect to assume that you track both Bruce Banner and The Hulk, General?”

“It’s not.”

“Good,” you hum, tapping a steady rhythm with the pads of your fingers into your forearm. “How about the target on sight orders for them both? That true as well?”

“Yes,” Ross says, voice dropping down. He’s wary about where you’re going with this but isn’t sure of your angle yet, most likely.

Thaddeus Ross wasn’t an idiot — especially where being a tactician was concerned, and that was all the props you’d ever give the man.

At the very least it meant he was giving you something of a challenge.

You nod to yourself, biting back a smile, “And you would agree that most times you catch up to Bruce Banner he’s not at immediate risk of transforming?”

“Not always, but—

“—And that provocation of the target — already agitated or otherwise — never fails to escalate tensions and make the situation more dangerous, correct?”

There was more to it than just Bruce or Hulk’s temperaments though, and you knew that well. But fighting the Hulk angle here wouldn’t be as helpful — even though every time Ross’s team have ever ran into Hulk already in control was because he was dealing with an even bigger threat, saving people, and the only thing the Hulkbusters ever succeeded in doing in those situation was exasperating the collateral; simply put Hulk wasn’t the aphantomable monster everyone wanted to paint him as, but paint their hearts out people would regardless — as you’d want with this audience, so stressing the Hulkbusters being nothing but a trigger in an otherwise calm situation was what you’d do.

Ross shifts to run his hand over his mustache, lips pursed.

“That’s…an affirmative, but—”

“So then, if you stand by your word, of course, you admit that any collateral damage caused by Hulk after you or your Hulkbusters have arrived on scene is not the fault of Hulk himself since you actively and willfully provoke him into violence and initiate battle in civilian areas with him for your own means?” You pause to swallow, blinking faux innocently up at Ross in the process, “Whatever they may be,” you finish, raising your brows at him in challenge before relaxing back into your seat.

Everything was in his court now.

You’ve put him in an uncomfortable place. He’s either got to admit that all his tracking down of the Hulk is no more than posturing on his part, posturing that willingly puts civilians in danger for little acceptable reason, or he’s got to admit exactly what it is he wants the Hulk for to a room of the type of military personnel who cared about at least appearing too civilized for human experimentation and the utilization of mind controlled bio weapons.

“Now I did not say that,” Ross says in a huff.

You just shrug. If the shoe fit and all that.

“You’d think finding a better strategy than shooting a barrage of ineffectual weapons at a man in public who gets stronger and less coherent the angrier he gets would tip you off that you are indeed not as capable as you think you are at keeping your constituents safe,” you reiterate, expression remaining unchanged.

“Nonsense,” Ross snaps. Looking around at the officials in the room he seems to get even angrier at the contemplative looks on their faces. “What are you all doing? This woman hardly qualifies as a superhero, let alone an Avenger. She doesn’t mean jacksquat as far as this conference is concerned.”

“But, General—”

“Don’t ‘but general’ me, Stevens. Buck the hell up!” He swings his head around after chewing the younger man out then, and when his gaze snaps back to you he bares his teeth. “You! You and your bleeding heart bull! What do you know about the danger that monster inside Banner poses?”

Sucking your teeth, you stand, roller chair threatening to topple over in your rush.

“Oh get real,” you snap lowly, planting a hand on the table and leaning over it in a bid to match Ross’s big irritated movements and gestures toward you, “Hulk hasn’t been a serious threat to human life in years.”

“There’s no sufficient evidence of that!”

“As much as I’d been worried about that too, Thunderbolt,” Tony starts quickly, voice turning mocking as he tosses out the other man’s nickname, “the stats don’t lie. Hulk hasn’t caused actual human collateral in…ever, really.”

Ross glowers his way, “I have men who’d say otherwise, Stark.”

Tony shrugs, “Frankly, Ross, if they can still say anything at all then you’ve already disproven your argument here.”

“Exactly,” you sniff, rocking back on your heels and crossing your arms. “And it wouldn’t be too hard to prove that over the last few years Hulk has saved more lives than he’s ever truly hurt either.”

Some of the Suits in the room begin nodding shallowly to themselves.

At the sight of them Ross starts up another sheet of yelling in your direction: “You damned blight, who do you think you are, you’re nothing,” he rattles in the next breath, but doesn’t get any further than that before you take personal offense.

“Um, hello!” you say, voice rising for the first time the entire meeting as you attempt to talk over him, “is your name either of my parents’?”

Ross sputters at your question, “What?”

“Exactly! So don’t come up here yelling at me like I’m some child! Only two people get to just barely yell at me, and you’re not either of them, so you need to come better!”

“You don’t get to talk to me like that,” he growls out, clearly stopping himself from advancing towards you with a sneer. “Women your age have no damn respect. You are a subordinate, act like it!”

“First of all: not your subordinate,” you clarify, face scrunching at the idea alone. “Second of all: I wasn’t aware that as a so-called ‘subordinate’ I couldn’t speak my mind, you must want a pack of mindless slaves that agree with your every word if that’s the case.”

He grins something nasty.

Behind him Fortean scoffs.

“Oh I see. I don’t care what goddamn race you are, insubordination is insubordination—”

“—I literally didn’t say anything about race. I said that with the way, as your so-called ‘subordinate’, you do not think people should talk back to you in ways you personally deem disrespectful is akin to you wanting a bunch of slaves working under you.” Scoffing, you shake your head. What a pack of clowns. “Last time I checked slaves aren’t allowed to oppose their Masters, General, whereas subordinates are meant to keep you in check which requires opposing opinions to be—”

Ross starts to stammer badly enough you’re stopped from continuing because you honestly aren’t sure he'll be able to hear you over the stuttered flapping of his gums, the gnashing of his teeth and the blood rushing to his face at an alarming speed.

Not that you gave a fuck about his health, but still.

He stutters for a few more seconds, fists balling where you can see them from where his arms are now crossed tightly across his chest, before eventually giving up with a harsh curse and pointing angrily at you, voice going up an octave or two.

“Missy, you will get off of my base right now! I’m not running a hen house. Talbot, escort her out!”

Both your eyebrows jump towards your hairline. Your response is on the tip of your tongue too: ‘Missy’! Excuse you, I am a grown ass woman, but, again, you’re stopped before you can get anymore riled up by a sudden bout of noise.

When you knock your head up to lock fiery brown eyes onto the source of the sound towards the back of the room you do so fast enough for your neck to crack.

A snort.

Someone’s laughing.

Your eyes narrow.

Unlike last time, no one else is joining in, however. No, instead everyone’s looking at a still drugged Bruce — who your eyes finally land on before promptly widening as his bleary gaze locks coherently onto yours for less than a second. It’s an eternity of a second, though.

In the meantime Bruce’s snort turns into stilted chuckles that swiftly morph into low gasps of laughter as his shoulders shake and his heavy head lists to the side.

Then, against all odds considering the boatload of drugs he’s visibly on and the suppressor collar around his neck, he starts to transform.

Bruce’s voice shifts to Hulk’s in the ensuing moments and his voice becomes significantly more disruptive even above the sound of the collar snapping in half. Hulk breaks out into booming laughter with a bellow of: “Flustered Ross?”, absolutely amused by how fucked up you’ve gotten his oldest foe.

“Wha—? Bruce— Hulk,” you cut yourself off, just staring at the jade giant as he full belly laughs, head thrown back and everything.

It’s adorable.

A little bit of you perks up at the rumbling sound and the heaviness that’s been anchoring your feet, making every step harder and heavier than the next, seems to lift.

Every non-Avenger in the room freezes bar Ross, who twitches and seems to get notably redder around the edges.

Honestly though, you don’t think anything would have supported your case any better than Bruce — your sweet, usually dry humored man — laughing so hard he cedes control to Hulk, who’s laughter is even more infectious. In real time you can even see the officials in the room having their perceptions shift as well.

Didn’t hurt that the evidence of their ineffectual Hulk containment methods when Hulk actually wanted out had just clattered into pieces on the ground either.

A little giggle bubbles past your lips almost in spite of the fury still firing through you. Alright, Ross’s beet red flush and slew of tripped over words in the face of confrontation from a black woman who was no better than a civilian skill wise was pretty funny.

For the first time since the team and you were redirected to this stupid fucking room the anxiety and irritation tightening your abdomen to aching relaxes.

Subconsciously you feel yourself sigh, straightening up from where you were leaned over the table to better get in Ross’s face the same way he felt he needed to get into yours first, and shifting to pop your back in the process.

Shit you were wound up.

You had to get yourself together because Ross’s ass was not worth putting all this strain on your body.

Eventually Hulk’s boisterous laughter peters off naturally. A smile sticks to his face still though, a boyish type of grin that shows enough teeth to make most of the big men strewn throughout the room shift uncomfortably and have your stomach fluttering welcomely.

Shoulders dropping and jaw unclenching you smile over at him in turn, his green eyes locking onto your brown for a slew of moments before some Suit clears his throat— then immediately ends up loosening his tie as that drags Hulk’s attention squarely his way.

The man clears his throat two more times before he finds his nerve, “Well the way I see it the best course of action to keeping Hulk…stable would be to let the Avengers keep an — um — eye on him and Bruce Banner. As I see it, at least,” he adds in a rush at the unblinking stares the Hulkbusters start giving him.

Ross seems to double take: “What,” he barks out, “you can’t be seriously considering this!”

“General, I think it’s about time we consider the option of least resistance.” And the Suit considers you now, gaze on you noticeable but one that you refuse to return with anything but a bland expression and raised brow. He sighs. “Not constantly waging clearly avoidable war on The Hulk, especially when the money going into the Hulkbusters can be utilized better elsewhere, seems like a solid plan to me, and I can only imagine my compatriots agree.”

Ross sputters for a few moments, Fortean’s frown crests hard enough you hope it sticks, and then the General’s mouth shuts with a snap. His pivot to turn your way is accompanied by a low growl from Hulk, but for once Ross is mad enough at someone else to not blow the rumble out of proportion.

“Get out,” he snaps, and like ants all the people who aren’t his (or The Avengers) in the conference room scatter.

You’d laugh if it weren’t so pathetic. Ross was only one single goddamn man, explosive anger or not.

Staring him down you cross your arms, cocking your head and hip and not hesitating to let a smirk grace your dark lips.

“Bitter?” You question before he can start.

Behind you some one of your partners’ teammates snorts.

You’d put your money on Clint.

Ross snarls and turns sharply to Tony somewhere behind you and to your left, features twisting nastily.

“Stark, take your team and get her the hell out of here now!” He jerks his hand towards the entrance, pointing some more. “She’s the most disrespectful, surefire example of why women shouldn’t be apart of discussions like this I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting—!”

When you laugh it’s a mean melodic thing. Overly loud just to be as obnoxious as you can manage.

The others start to move around you too, mainly Cap and Clint, to push past Ross’s unit and get to Hulk. When they start releasing him from his bonds and he stomps from the trolley he’d been tied to, two feet finally firmly planted on the floor and making the room tremble for a moment, the Hulkbusters collectively recoil and bristle all at once.

Somehow you find it in you to laugh a little harder. Apparently it was your turn to bust a gut in Ross’s face.

Talbot and Fortean glowering your way in response makes you feel doubly accomplished on top of everything too.

“Oh, screw you, Ross! You’re nothing but a sore fucking loser on a power trip and, quite frankly— ah shit!”

In one singular movement you’re swooped up. Eyes widening you gasp, hands flying down to grasp onto the nearest thing you can as your balance is thrown off. Really you needn’t have worried though, the lighter palms of brown hands — the lightest part on you beside the bottom of your feet, honestly — meet the stern knuckles of warm green skin and your spirit instantly re-enters your body as you realize what’s happening.

Unfortunately though you’re covering ground too fast for it to mean much.

Ross shouts, “God-damn—” and then he’s cut off and you can’t do a single thing about it.

Well then.

Doors close with an unsatisfactory but resounding finality in your face, the image of Ross red and belligerent lost behind it, and you scowl; still huffing and puffing even after being swept up into a carry by the very man you were arguing over.

From where you’re being carried partially laying over Hulk’s shoulder, you glare at the empty corridor he’s stomping down with the rest of the Avengers, heart hammering in your chest.

That’s when you’re finally aware enough for it to truly click that you’ve been tossed over his shoulder and you balk.

“Hulk!”

“Y/n relax now,” Hulk rumbles, large thumb patting you on the back from where he’s holding you to him.

At that you have no choice, really. You slump. Arms hanging limply at your sides and head resting on his shoulder, you pant too. Sucking in large gulps of air and trying to get your heartrate back under control before your anger spurs on a headache.

“Alright, fine,” you mutter into green skin, relaxing into Hulk’s hold, “but only because you said it so nicely.”

Hulk hums. It’s too pointed to be anything but him calling you out on your bullshitting, but you’re too tired to riff on him in your defense and start a playful back and forth right then.

“Well,” Tony chirps from the corner of the large industrial elevator once you’ve all finally settled back into it for the day, “At least you riled old Thunderbolt up enough for him to let us go with the Big Guy pretty easily.”

Lips splitting into a grin, even slightly out of breath as you are, you push up from Hulk’s shoulder a little and turn your head to the side so you’re not staring at the side of his neck and the wisps of green hair that curls some at the base of it.

When Tony sees the smile on your face he balks. By the time you’ve started up a sheet of poorly held back laughter he’s caught on.

“I should’ve known,” Tony snorts, shaking his head. “You did have a plan.”

“Of course she had a plan,” Hulk intones, tone deadly serious even though you can feel the way he huffs out a laugh.

“Hold on,” Clint starts, “you mean you picked a fight with Ross on purpose?”

“Sure did,” you start, curling back into Hulk’s hold and turning away from everyone else again. “Ross hates Hulk, yeah, but he can’t stand a woman stepping up to him either. I knew if I screwed him over he’d focus on tempering my loud mouth more so than fighting to keep his arch enemy or whatever.” You raise a limp hand to wave in their direction, “Plus, with only Cap as backup somebody had to pick up the Hulk Defense slack.”

“Okay, don’t do us like that now,” Tony complains, the metal of the Iron Man suit clanging lightly as he shifts.

“Oh, I’m gonna,” you scoff. You snort too, though, as a bout of Hulk’s more subdued laughter reaches your ears and shakes your entire body. “Just a little.”

Still, you didn’t miss the team’s broader unwillingness to stick up for the bigger and greener of your partners before today, though— and your reclusive white man too, by extension. Hulk didn’t miss it either, you'd bet, and some definite developments would have to come of that.

For now though, that could wait till you were no longer in a fucking American military base.

Once this was all over, and things settled back down, you’d have to ask Hulk if he wouldn’t mind letting you talk to Bruce. If Bruce wouldn’t mind coming up for a conversation.

That was something for later though, for now you’d just let your nerves calm and bask in not having to worry about walking.

Without another word you curl more securely into Hulk’s hold, tucking your head into his neck, your umber skin and tight curls brushing over the protruding veins there, and moving one of your arms up to wrap around Hulk’s neck.

As you all make your way down the elevator and back to the quinjet you’re fully content to keeping silent. Fingers tangled lightly in the dark hair at the base of Hulk’s neck you lean in to press plump two-toned lips to his skin in a lingering kiss.

Hulk huffs. Big hands secure you to his chest even more than you already are and his thumb and forefinger squeeze fondly, delicately, around your waist, his giant head leaning just enough to press lightly over yours for a second.

Eyes watering, you smile into him, hands trembling in his hair as you hug him harder.

You missed him, and you missed Bruce (missed the knowledge that he was safe even when you couldn’t directly talk to him because Hulk was safe) and that had strained on you badly.

At least you had them back now though. And this time around you’d be far meaner and a lot less lenient about parting from them again.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! Didn’t expect that this would be the first fic out of all the Bruce/Hulk fics I’ve started this year that I’d post, but it worked out anyway.

Also, honestly, I forgot how the episode began and was sequenced so this is more inspired by “The Deadliest Man Alive” - S2EP22 episode of EMH than a rewrite of it. Fortean is here too so that doubly doesn’t support this being a direct rewrite; I just needed to throw some shots his way too though so that’s why he’s here.

And the title is from the Coco Jones song bcs I was listening to it on repeat while finishing writing this, the fic isn’t inspired by the song tho.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[late-to-the-party-81]

Thank you for sharing the Bruce/Hulk love 😍

(Love is) Lemon muffins and chamomile tea

AN: This is my entry for @jadedvibes falling in love challenge. This story can be read as a standalone, or a prequel to my other Bruce/Hulk x Reader stories (I guess it’s a series now, oops). My chosen dialogue prompt can be found in bold in the text.

Dividers by @fireflygraphics and moodboard by me

Beta’d by @yarnforbrains

Please check out my main masterlist here and the series masterlist here

Pairing: Bruce Banner/Hulk x Reader

CW: Fluff/Meet cute, Falling in love, mild peril and threats of violence, Hulk being a sweetheart, one kiss.

Word count: 2.7k

It had started simply, as these things do. You were working your job at the independent coffee shop, making up flat whites, americanos and skinny mocha-lattes with extra foam and shots of non-sugar syrup. You saw lots of people every day, but after a while you began to recognise your regulars: baldy business suit (macchiato), working mom (hazelnut latte, sometimes with whipped cream), gaggle of college girls (who flip flop between seasonal flavoured hot chocolates, seasonal frappes and double espressos), and construction workers (a mix of americano’s and flat whites).

Then there was him. Not overly tall or broad, but with a riot of curly salt and pepper hair and kind, dark eyes partially hidden by glasses. He always seemed preoccupied, reading a book in the wait line, and then at a table if he chose to have his drink in. You’d peeked at his books several times and having seen they were all to do with physics, math, and computing, you’d concluded he was either a university professor or a scientist.

What made him stand out though was his order. He rarely had coffee, normally opting for a tea. Usually he chose  mint, the green of it almost glowing in the cup, but you’d started noticing a pattern – if he seemed stressed, agitated, he always asked for chamomile. And he nearly always drank this inside, as if he needed the time to decompress and compose himself - to escape whatever was frustrating him. 

The third thing that struck you was that he didn’t seem to have a regular time of day to attend. Sometimes he was outside the doors at opening, sometimes you were politely shoo-ing him out at closing. It made you think that maybe he worked close by and kept odd hours, popping in and out of your little shop whenever he needed a break. It was one of those late night incidents in the middle of summer that you learned his name.

You’d been dutifully cleaning down all the equipment, filling and setting the dishwasher to run overnight, and wiping the tables, watching ‘The Professor’ as you’d dubbed him from the corner of your eye. It had been a chamomile evening, apparently, and scattered in front of him were pieces of paper covered in his spidery scrawl, and two, thick books about some kind of brain draining topic. He’d read a bit, make a note, curse low under his breath, and then read a bit more, sometimes flipping back and forth through the pages. It felt mean to disturb him, but you’d turned the open/close sign 15 mins ago, switched all the lights off out back, and there wasn’t a lot else you could do. Also, your feet hurt and you just wanted to get home.

You walked up to him, coming round the side in hope he would see you, but he still jumped slightly when you greeted him.

“Umm, hi there.”

You almost swore his skin took on a green tinge as he swivelled on his stool, but when you looked again he appeared totally normal. You did need some rest!

“Sorry to disturb you, but we’re, umm, closed now.” 

The Professor blinked at you slowly, as if trying to process what you were saying, before tilting his head to look at the clock on the wall.  He looked down at his watch with furrowed brow, as though he didn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Damn! I’m so sorry.” He pulled off his glasses, folding them and putting them in his breast pocket. Turning back to the table, he started to shuffle his papers together, stuffing them and his books into his leather messenger bag.  “You should have told me earlier. I didn’t mean to hold you up. I just, umm, get in the zone sometimes and don’t notice the march of time.”

You smiled back, finding his slightly flustered state endearing. “It’s no problem. It was sort of nice to have someone else in here while I was shutting up.” 

Walking over to the door with him, you  held it open for him to leave. He walked through, took one step along the sidewalk before suddenly stopping, spinning on his heel and looking at you from under his dark lashes, a broad hand pushing through his hair.

“Err, I’m Bruce by the way.”

You grinned. He really was rather cute.

“Nice to meet you, Bruce. See you again sometime.”

He let out a small chuckle.

“Yeah, the next time I need a cup of tea, a lemon muffin, and, umm, some of the best scenery in New York.”

You couldn’t hold back your giggle at the cheesiness of his line.

“Smooth, Bruce, smooth…”

He shot you a smile, before turning away and heading off into the warm evening.

Summer made way for autumn, the heat tapering off, the nights creeping in and the leaves doing their annual costume change. You saw Bruce more often than before, striking up a friendship with him due to his frequent visits to the shop. Whenever he spotted you behind the counter, he’d shyly wave hello. It got to the point where he never had to line up any more, just situated himself at his favourite table, spreading out his books and notes, knowing that as soon as you got a moment you’d appear with his tea and a muffin. You’d begun to read his moods, and it wasn’t difficult for you to work out which tea he was in the mood for.

During quiet moments you’d come over and sit with him, either letting him ramble at you about his work  - despite the fact that if you understood one word in three you were doing well - or distracting him from whatever equation was frustrating him by telling him about your day. He’d often stay for a few hours, going through cup after cup of tea, and if he appeared when you were on a closing shift you knew he would be there until you ushered him out of the door.

It was the beginning of November now. Halloween had passed in a flurry of bat shaped cookies and pumpkin spice muffins, although the warm apple cider and pumpkin spice lattes were staying for a while. You smiled at the memory of when you gave Bruce one of the ciders instead of his normal tea. He’d sipped it absent-mindedly, and you’d seen the moment his taste buds had woken up.  His eyes went wide as he smacked his lips together before he threw you a smile that you’d never admit made you go slightly weak at the knees.

There was something between the two of you; some unspoken undercurrent. There were times, especially when it was only the pair of you left in the shop, that you felt yourself a hair's breadth away from reaching out to him, wanting so much to run your fingers through his tousled locks, take his glasses off, sit yourself on his lap and… but he was your customer. You never saw each other in any other setting, so you had to maintain your professionalism, but you itched for more, wondering if you should bite the bullet and ask him out. 

There’s always tomorrow, you thought.

Then, everything changed.

The wind whipped around you, causing swirls of leaves around your feet as you pulled the shop door shut, using the light from the streetlamp to see what you were doing as you locked it.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright getting home on your own?” 

Bruce stood next to you, wrapped up in a chunky scarf over his wool coat, his heavy messenger bag slung across his chest. He was shifting from foot to foot, looking a bit agitated, eyes darting all around as though looking out for any danger that may be lurking. With your back still turned to him, you rolled your eyes, before spinning to look at him, a soft smile now on your face as you pulled on your gloves.

“I’ll be fine, Bruce. I walk this route nearly every day. It’s only three blocks.”

“But there are some weirdos out there.”

“I know that, but I promise to stay in the well-lit areas, and I’ve got my pepper spray.” You pulled your keychain from your pocket, showing the small spray can attached.

“I could walk you home…” 

Your heart did that little ‘pitter-patter’ again at his sweet offer. Your lips turned up further.

“Go home, Bruce. I absolutely promise I’ll be okay. I’m on the mid-shift tomorrow, so see you around lunch time? Maybe I’ll take my break after I bring you your food? Regale you with the boring story of this walk home.”

He looked at you, just letting out a resigned hum at your stubborn independence.

“Okay. I just worry, you know. Pretty girl like you, walking home in the dark.”

While your heart did somersaults, you tried to maintain your cool.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Bruce.” 

You could feel him watching you as you walked away down the sidewalk, and you couldn’t help but wonder if the fact that he cared so much meant  that he cared.

You kept your promise as you walked home,sticking to the middle of the sidewalk, not too close to the alleys and doorways, and also not too close to the road edge. That was until a man coming in the other direction crashed into you sending you staggering towards the side of a building. You bounced against the hard bricks, winded for a second, and then a hand closed around your wrist, yanking you into the dark alleyway. You let out a screech and pulled back, but the hand held you fast, pulling you further away from the lights and any other pedestrians. You fumbled in your pocket for your keys, your small can of pepper spray, but a firmer tug caused you to stumble, and they fell from your gloved hand onto the ground with a clatter.

“Let me go!” 

The man, tall and filthy, leered at you through missing teeth, running his gaze up and down your body in hunger, despite how much you were covered with your duffle coat. You lashed out with your free arm, and your feet, panic rising within you.

“Do as the lady says…”

A voice from the mouth of the alley stopped both you and your attacker in your trackers, both your heads whipping round.

“Bruce!”

He took a step forward, pulling off his bag and scarf, dropping them to the ground, then started to undo the buttons on his coat.

“Fuck off!” Your assailant yelled at Bruce and followed it up with a gob of spit that landed at Bruce’s feet.

“Come on, man, you don’t want to do this.” There was a strange look on Bruce’s face, like he was resigned to a course of action he didn’t want to take. He shrugged off his coat and lay it over a dumpster, seemingly calm.

Suddenly there was a gun in play, in the hand of the filthy attacker, pointing directly at Bruce. Fear spiked within you.

“No, no, no!”

Your struggles began anew, as you desperately tried to pull him off balance, but he flung you to the side, sending you careening into another dumpster as you fell, your head bouncing harshly off the metal with a dull clang. You slumped to the floor, dizzy and you saw Bruce, through your blurred vision, take a couple of steps towards you.

“Aa-aah. You don’t wanna be a hero. Just go away and you won’t get hurt.”

Bruce smirked, an expression that you’d never witnessed before.

“Funny, I was gonna say the same to you.”

He took another step forward.

Everything happened in slow motion.

The gun fired, the shot loud, almost deafening to your ears, the bullet zipping through the air towards Bruce.

Who was no longer Bruce.

As fast as the shot had been fired, Bruce changed - transformed. All at once his skin turned green, and he grew in bulk and size, his shirt shredding itself.

You screamed.

The Hulk snorted, grinned at your attacker and spat out a mangled bullet.

“Just go away. You won’t get hurt.”

Hulk walked forward with a grin, plucking the gun away and squashing it in his giant fist, and your assailant ran away on jelly legs, tripping and bouncing off the walls in his haste. He hadn’t even disappeared fully before the giant, green creature turned his attention to you. He moved forward and in your disorientated and pained state, you tried to back up, unable to actually go anywhere because of the dumpster behind you.

“Please don’t hurt me!”

Hulk’s eyes went wide, and he sat down with a thud, the dumpster behind you juddering. He started to reach out towards you, but you shrank into yourself and he stopped.

“Hulk not hurt Pretty Girl. Pretty Girl Banner’s friend.”

“Banner? What’s going on? Where’s Bruce?”

Hulk tapped the side of his head with a thick finger.

“Bruce in here. He let Hulk out to help.” His face took on a slightly downcast expression. “But he says I have to go back in now.”

He looked thoroughly dejected.

“All anyone want Hulk to do is smash. Hulk would like to make friends too.”

Your fear melted away. You shuffled closer and placed a hand on one of his meaty forearms.

“Thank you for helping me. I can be your friend, if you want?”

His face split into a wild smile. 

“Hulk would like to have Pretty Girl as a friend.”

“Well there you go, Big guy. I’ll organise something with Bruce, okay?”

“Okay!” He raised his free hand again and, more gently than you thought possible, ran the back of his hand over your cheek. “Bye-bye, Pretty Girl.”

He closed his eyes and with a small shudder began to shrink down, the green of his skin receding until it was pale again and Bruce was looking at you. His shirt lay in tatters across his shoulders and he immediately got up to retrieve his coat, shoving his arms into it at speed.

“I… ummm… well… Secret's out now, I guess. I’m sorry you had to see that, but I’m not sorry I helped you. See you around.”

He picked up his bag and scarf and walked towards the mouth of the alley. You scrabbled to your feet, arm outstretched in front of you.

“Bruce, wait!” He turned, looking at you warily. “There’s something I wanna ask you. And don’t think it’s because of what just happened. Well it sort of is, but only in a ‘you gotta go for what you want before it’s too late’ kinda way, and… shit, I’m rambling.” You clamped your mouth shut and drew in a deep breath through your nose. Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought.

“I like you, Bruce. In fact, I can’t think straight with you around. You’re sweet and kind, and clever and handsome. And…and… I don’t think it would take much to fall in love with you. And I wondered, if you’d like to maybe… go for a drink tomorrow when I finish my shift?”

You shifted your weight from foot to foot, twisting your hands in the sleeves of your coat, aware that you had just asked him out in a dingy, smelly and downright filthy alley, just after he’d rescued you from goodness knows what kind of a fate, but you couldn’t be sorry about it. Okay, maybe you would be sorry about it if he didn’t say something and…

You didn’t even notice him moving, but suddenly he was there, in front of you, the buttons of his coat almost touching the zipper of yours, the twin ‘huffs’ of air from both your mouths merging together in the coolness of the night. Then his hands were on your face, cupping your cheeks before his lips fell to yours, kissing you sweetly. You fisted his coat, well, as best you could with your woollen gloves on, until you separated from each other, eyes locked and staring. Bruce broke the silence first.

“In case you didn’t realise from that, I like you too. And maybe I’m likely to fall in love with you as well. You’re so smart, so beautiful. And you make an awesome apple cider.”

You giggled, your head falling to lean against his chest.

“Walk me home, Bruce?”

“Of course, Pretty Girl. Whatever you want.”

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @sidepartskinnyjeans @tuiccim @doasyoudesireandlive @talia-rumlow @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky

[cece693]

Hothead

pairing: steve rogers x male reader tags: reader is an avenger, weird relationship dynamics, people think you're bad news, Steve sees the opposite, proving people wrong, hurt Steve, but reader tends to him and comforts him

You stride into the briefing room with a chip on your shoulder, ready to butt heads with whoever decides to question your methods today. Tony throws you a quick glance, eyebrows raised in contempt—or maybe curiosity. Clint, seated backward on a chair, eyes you warily. Natasha merely tightens her jaw and shifts in her seat. Bruce goes quiet, trying not to ruffle your feathers. And Thor, well, he’s half-amused but uncertain. After all, you’re not exactly known for your subtlety.

In truth, you don’t blame them for looking. By now, the Avengers had time to know you: you’re the hotheaded guy who’d rather slug first and ask questions later. The one who’ll bark at a helpless agent for misfiling paperwork or curse at an enemy mid-battle with no shame. No one can figure it out—why in the world did Steve Rogers, the ultimate golden boy, choose you of all people?

He’s not here yet, so you stand alone in your corner, arms crossed, lips set in a firm line. Fury’s voice drones on about mission updates and tactical readiness, but you hardly listen. You’ve already memorized the mission parameters on the flight here. You’re scanning the room for threats, evaluating every inch. To the untrained eye, you’re on edge, maybe just itching for a confrontation. The team sees the tension brimming beneath your stance.

It’s only when you feel a steady hand come to rest lightly on your arm that you uncross your arms. Steve appears beside you, the warmth of his palm pressing through the fabric of your uniform. He doesn’t say a word—doesn’t have to. Your glare softens. If anyone notices, they pretend not to. But you’ve learned how to be subtle for him.

You’re both exhausted when you touch down after the mission, battered and bruised. You had insisted on being the decoy, drawing enemy fire, because you handle force better than most. You’d never share this, but you did it so Steve wouldn’t have to. He’s strong—beyond strong—but you’ve never shaken your protective streak.

The rest of the team fans out. Everyone’s too drained to talk, but the confusion is still there. More than one pair of eyes lingers on you as you carefully loop Steve’s arm around your shoulder, guiding him to sit on a bench in the hangar. The second he’s down, your hands are on his face, tilting it up gently to assess the bruise blossoming along his cheekbone. “Stevie,” you murmur, the syllables so low that the others almost miss them, “Does it hurt too bad?”

He gives you a small smile. “I’m alright. Just need some ice.”

Your brow furrows. Gone is your scowl from earlier—no arrogance, no fists clenched, nothing of the raging storm you usually are. Instead, there’s only concern, your thumb brushing the bruise with trembling care. The hush that falls over the rest of the Avengers is deafening. “Stay put,” you say quietly, your voice gruff. “Don’t move.”

He nods, trusting you. You stalk away to grab an ice pack, ignoring everyone else. When you return, you kneel in front of Steve, pressing the cool compress to his cheek. Your free hand drifts to the back of his neck, softly coaxing him closer, checking for other injuries. “You’re such a brat,” Steve teases under his breath, but there’s unmissable fondness in his tone.

"You like that about me,” you quip. And the corners of his lips curve into a warmer smile.

Steve gently pats your hand where it’s wrapped around the ice pack. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

You don’t respond at first. You just nod, focusing on the cut above his eyebrow that’s starting to bleed. You rummage through a makeshift first-aid kit, dabbing at his wound with a gauze pad. The lines between your brows deepen every time he flinches. Finally, you speak, low enough that the words are almost lost: “I’m always here, Rogers.”

The rest of the team stands by, silent observers to your quiet exchange. Every so often, Tony exchanges looks with Clint or Bruce. No one expected you, the loudmouth with fists perpetually clenched, to be so gentle. The sweet murmur of “Stevie” just doesn’t match the image they have of you threatening an enemy on the battlefield mere hours ago.

When you finish, you wipe your hands on your pant leg and place a careful, feather-light kiss on Steve’s knuckles. You do it unthinkingly—he’s still trembling a bit, adrenaline coursing through his body. In that soft touch, the Avengers finally see it. They realize you may wear rough edges on the outside, but it’s purely the armor you put up to keep those you care about safe.

Steve, with a smile lighting his face, reaches up and cups your cheek. “Thanks,” he says again, and in that moment, the rest of the team witnesses a warmth in your eyes they never imagined was there.

“Take it easy, Cap,” you say. Your voice drops so no one else can hear, but your words catch the edges of Tony’s hearing regardless. “I love you, you know that?”

Steve’s eyes sparkle, and he presses his forehead gently against yours, relieved. “I know,” he murmurs back, “and I love you too.”

At a respectful distance, Natasha and Clint exchange glances. Bruce glances at Tony, who just offers a slight shrug. The legendary Captain America had fallen for a man with grit and fire, a man so different from him that it left them all baffled. Yet here you are, devoted and steady, unafraid to bare that tenderness when it counts.

Tony can’t help but grin a little. Leaning over to Clint, he mutters, “Well, guess there’s more to him than a bad attitude and a mean right hook.”

Clint only shrugs. “Steve sees it, and that’s enough.” And it is. Because in the end, for Steve Rogers, you’ll always be the one who keeps him safe, wipes his wounds clean, and whispers the gentlest words in the quiet aftermath of chaos—and no one can deny how right that looks on you.

[reveryfics]

Insomnia

Pairings: Bruce Banner x Male reader

Summary: You keep having night terrors, scared Bruce will leave once you wake up which results in episodes of insomnia.

A/n: I wont lie i got drunk half way through writing this, so its incredibly short. Slightly based on my horrid insomnia as of late, and because Bruce needs some love. Basically angst with fluff.

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The clock on the wall ticked relentlessly, its hands sweeping across the darkened room. A dim glow emanated from the television screen, casting eerie shadows on the walls. A male sat motionless on the couch, a half-empty mug of coffee clutched in his hands. His eyes, heavy-lidded and bloodshot, were fixed on the flickering screen, yet his mind was far away.

Recent nights had been plagued by nightmares, vivid and terrifying, that had left him shaken and sleepless. Tonight was no different. The images from his dreams still lingered, haunting his thoughts. He longed for the comfort of Bruce's presence, his warm embrace, and the soothing cadence of his voice. Yet he somehow felt it wouldn't make a difference.

He glanced at the clock again, his heart pounding in his chest. It was late, much later than Bruce had said he would be home. A wave of worry washed over him. Had Bruce actually left like he feared?

He stood up and paced nervously around the room, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. He tried to calm himself, to reason with his anxious thoughts. But it was difficult. The longer Bruce was gone, the more his fears grew.

The sharp click of the door lock echoed through the quiet apartment, startling the male from his reverie. A tired smile crept across his lips as he turned to see his fiancé standing in the doorway. Bruce, looking a bit surprised, returned the smile.

"Trouble sleeping?" Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

His fiancé sighed and sank into the couch. "Is it that obvious?"

Bruce set his belongings aside, kicking off his shoes and shrugging out of his coat. He wasn’t oblivious to his fiancé’s unease, nor to the late hour. Bruce knew all too well how past traumas could resurface in unexpected ways.

Excusing himself, he quickly changed into something comfortable, shedding the scent of the lab. Returning to the couch, he found his partner waiting.

“Want to talk about it?” Bruce asked gently.

The younger man leaned into Bruce’s embrace, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “It’s the same old worries,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. “The ones that have haunted me since we first met.”

Bruce gathered his fiancé into his arms, his touch gentle and reassuring. As he stroked his lover's back, his voice was soft and comforting. "I'll always be here for you," he promised. "The thought of leaving you never crosses my mind."

“You shouldn't have to keep telling me just for my brain to believe it for only a while.” He sighed.

Bruce's heart swelled with each repetition. If his fiancé could feel the depth of his love, then any number of "I love you's" was worth it. "I'll never grow weary of saying it," he hummed contentedly.

They lingered in the quiet moment, their bodies entwined. As time slipped away, they surrendered to the comforting silence and warmth, drifting off to sleep on the couch.

[reginaphalangelobster]

Family

You were always there for your friends, whatever they were going through. You listened to Natasha talk about her 'family' in Ohio. You listened to Tony talk about his parents, especially Howard 'dad of the year' Stark. You got Steve to open up about his parents and about Bucky and you couldn't get Thor to shut up about Loki or Odin.

One day you were listening to Thor in the kitchen and then Tony in the living room and you finally decided to say something.

'Alright everyone, listen the fuck up. I know everybody here has a lot of family issues and while I'm always here for you and I'll always listen to your problems I think you are all missing something here, family isn't who you're born with it's who you die for, and I'd die for any of you idiots in a heartbeat.'

The rest of the team just stares at you for a moment, and you think you fucked up big time. That is until they all tackle you into a giant group hug and don't let go.

'Okay I said I'd always be here for you but this is a bit much, guys, I can't breathe' you say with a breathless chuckle, completely content with being literally strangled by your found family.