#she-hulk x reader

[faebirdie]

If Only

Pairing: Jennifer Walters/fem!Reader

Category: slight angst with a happy, fluffy ending

Words: 2,336

Warnings: talk of both reader and Jen’s insecurities, sort of boss/employee relations

Requested: No. I’m so sorry to those of you who do have requests in my inbox. I’ve had so little inspiration to write lately until this randomly hit me.

Summary: Jennifer’s assistant is doing everything she can to keep her very inappropriate crush on her boss under wraps. But she just can’t keep her mouth shut when Jen shows how much the constant attention she’s receiving as She-Hulk rather than Jen is getting to her. Set after episode 5.

A/N’s: The most unrealistic part of this show about superhumans is that supposedly no one wants Jennifer as herself rather than as She-Hulk.

Masterlist and Request Rules

Jennifer Walters is a good boss. A great one even. The best boss you’ve ever had, as a matter of fact. Which really should be a good thing. And it would be if she wasn’t also the sweetest, cutest, and just all around most infatuating woman you had ever had the pleasure of knowing. But she was. 

Which has left you with a bit of a dilemma. Because you can’t date your boss. Hell, you shouldn’t even be thinking about her like this at all. You shouldn’t be thinking about how adorable she is in the morning when she first gets into the office and can barely keep her eyes open until she drinks the coffee you always bring her. You shouldn’t be wondering about what else goes through her head while she’s reading over the case briefs you’ve printed for her. And you definitely shouldn’t be daydreaming about how nice it would be to hold her hands, the same hands you can’t pull your eyes away from now as she packs up her briefcase for the night. It’s a wildly inappropriate thing for you to imagine with any coworker much less your actual employer! And most definitely grounds for her to fire you if she were ever to find out.

But you just can’t help yourself. Especially not now, while she’s standing in her true ‘just Jennifer’ form rather than towering over you as ‘She-Hulk’. Moments like these were becoming more commonplace. Moments spent alone, just the two of you in her office after most of the building had already gone home. Jen spent most of her time with you as her green alter ego, whether that be in court or during any other regular business hours in which she was representing the firm rather than herself. She didn’t complain to you about it, but you could tell sometimes that the constant pressure to be someone larger than life could get to her in certain moments. And while you try not to think too much about it, the fact that she feels comfortable enough around you to trust you with her more vulnerable side, it makes your heart flutter and your palms sweat.

“-need to formally file that appeal by the end of the week or we’ll be screwed. Can you be in a few minutes early tomorrow so we can get that started before we need to be in court?” Jennifer’s honey sweet voice breaks through your thoughts just a moment too late. 

You do your best to hide the way you’ve been zoned out with a measured nod and a quick hum in agreement even though you aren’t entirely sure what appeal she had been talking about. That’s a problem for tomorrow.

“Ugh. Thank you so much. I hate to ask. You’re already working way longer hours than most of the other assistants in the office. I promise you that we’ll be all settled into things here soon and then we’ll be able to work less overtime. I feel terrible about having to get in the way of whatever you’d rather be doing outside of this damn office,” You force yourself to focus on restacking the mess of paperwork sitting on the desk next to you rather than allow yourself to get sucked into the way Jen’s eyes focus on you as she talks.

Though maybe you hyperfocus too hard because you definitely aren’t thinking about the words that come out of your mouth next, “It’s ok. Honestly, my friends are all either busy with their own jobs or relationships and I haven’t been very into the dating scene lately. No one’s really caught my attention as of late. Well-” you barely catch yourself before taking what was already becoming far too personal of a conversation and moving it into dangerous territory. What are you doing? You can’t be saying any of this! Think! Think! Fix this before she gets uncomfortable. What was almost ‘Well other than you.’ becomes, “Well, other than this girl I know through a friend of mine. But, I don't think I’m her type,” The half truth you tell is probably still pushing it a bit, but at least you hadn’t admitted your schoolgirl crush on Jennifer to Jennifer.

You force yourself to look up from the now perfectly symmetrical stack of papers you’ve been fiddling with to where Jen stands directly on the opposite side of the large desk from you. Instead of finding a judgmental glare pointed at you as you’d feared, you see that she’s no longer looking at you. Jen’s head is turned slightly, staring over your shoulder towards the large windows that make up the back wall. Her warm, hazel eyes are unfocused, clouded over with something you struggle to place.

A moment passes in silence between the two of you before her eyes meet yours once more and she speaks, “I can understand that,” her tone is soft, almost whispered as she continues with a brief chuckle, “I haven’t had much luck in that field as of late either. I don’t think online dating is meant for someone who the world already knows so much about. There’s so many…expectations. Then again, they’re all about She-Hulk. Not Jen.”

Something in the way she says her own name, with a touch of contempt almost, gives the final clue for you to recognize what you had been seeing in her eyes just moments ago. Insecurity. Self doubt. Loathing even. They were all feelings you know well. But ones you can’t handle seeing come from the striking woman standing across from you.

You’ve only been working for Jen for a few short months, but the long hours spent together have allowed you to become incredibly familiar with her. You know her coffee order by heart, could pick her handwriting out of a lineup, and had even met much of her family after dropping some critical documents off at her house when she’d forgotten them at the office. You've seen her sharp mind at work a hundred times but still don’t find yourself getting bored while watching her practice her opening or closing arguments. Her nervous rambling makes you smile and the way her natural curls frizz up after a long day of mussing with them causes your heart to flutter. And that idea that Jen doesn’t see all of this beauty in herself the way you do is heart wrenching. You just can’t stand for it. 

“Look, Jennifer, this is probably completely out of bounds for me to say and I know I should just keep my mouth shut but I can’t. So I’m sorry, but you deserve the world. You are smarter than pretty much anyone I have ever known but somehow manage to never make those around you feel dumb or less than. And you work harder than every lawyer on this floor combined. Not for the accolades or the attention but because you genuinely, truly care about making a difference. You’re a good person with a huge heart,” you should stop there. You should really, really stop there but you just can’t. Now that the feelings you’ve been holding back for weeks have started to come out, you just can’t stop the rest. So you continue to express every compliment you’ve thought of about Jen since meeting her, each becoming more definite in tone as you go on, “And my god, Jen! You are so damn cute and funny and sweet while still managing to be hot and intimidating in the best possible way. I’ve been going mad sitting in this office with you every day and not being able to tell you how much I care about you and how I just want you happy no matter what form you are in. I hear you and Nikki talk about these shitty dates you’re going on and it kills me! Because these people you’re seeing are completely ignorant to just how amazing you are and how lucky they are just to sit across from you. And I know I’m ranting but I just can’t sit here and not say anything while you feel anything less than wonderful about yourself. I just want you to see yourself the way I do. To love yourself the way I do.”

You’re breathing hard when you finally finish your outburst. The pump, pump, pump of your heart against your ribcage is nearly painful but only intensifies as what all you’ve just said truly sets in. I’m so fired. 

“Y/N I…I-” You can’t even look at Jennifer as she stutters over just a few words, seemingly unable to find any real response to what you’ve just told her. 

Oh, god. What have I done? “I’m so sorry. That was completely inappropriate. I’m just gonna go,” You grab your work bag off of the chair next to you and scramble out of the room without looking back.

Please be at work a few minutes early today so that we can talk. - Jen

Jen’s text is the first thing you see after waking up from a fitful night of broken up sleep. The words stare back at you as you run through options of how to move forward in your head. You could call in sick. You could go in early and just pretend as if nothing has happened and ask her about the appeal that needs filing so as to avoid the subject of last night. You could change names and move out of the country so that you never have to risk running into Jennifer ever again.

No. You have to be a big girl about this. You’re an adult and adults own up to their actions and handle the consequences. I wish I was a child again.

So instead of burrowing back under your comforter like you want to, you get up and put the bare minimum into getting ready for the day and at least try to look professional. The subway ride to the office feels like it goes by faster than ever before, giving you little opportunity to ready yourself for walking into Jennifer’s office. It takes you a full minute to sike yourself up before you can finally force yourself to knock on her door.

“Come in,” Even on a morning like this, her voice still sounds like music to your ears. But it doesn’t make pushing open the door and stepping through it any easier.

The roomy office is full of early morning sunlight and just slightly cold. Jennifer is still in her human form when you walk through the door, which surprises you. She normally comes in in her Hulk form and stays that way until the very end of the day. Though you guess that switching between the two forms is a little easier now with her new adaptable suits. Don’t think about how good they look on her.

“Hi,” Jen is the first to speak as you near her desk but you still can’t bring yourself to meet her eyes.

“Hi,” Your reply is barely audible and filled with shame.

“Will you sit down? Please?”

You comply and make yourself as small as you can in the comfy chair in front of her desk. Your hand taps nervously on your knee as you force yourself to finally look at the woman in front of you. Her expression surprises you. It’s not one of scorn as you’d expected. Instead it’s soft. Nervous even. Her deep hazel eyes hold yours as the two of you look at each other for a moment.

“I talked to Pug this morning when I got in. We discussed having you work for him, instead of me,” Your heart breaks at the statement. Pug’s a nice guy, but he’s not Jen. You drop your head and feel your face heat up as you process what’s just been said. Jen doesn’t want to work with you anymore. Of course she doesn’t. What you said last night had been wildly unprofessional and more likely than not had made her uncomfortable. It makes sense that she wouldn’t want to be around you anymore. 

“I-I understand. But Jen, I just want to say that I’m so, so sorry. What I said was incredibly inappropriate and I-”

“No!” Jennifer cuts off your apology, “Well, technically yes. It was inappropriate I guess. But, I’m not mad. I’m thrilled actually! I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since your first week on the job. I was just never gonna act on anything because I’m your boss and I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

The force with which you snap your head up to look at her is almost painful. Jen’s cheeks are flushed a soft pink, but you can see a look of hopefulness hiding behind the nerves. 

“You’ve been thinking about me? Like the same way I have about you?” This has to be a dream. If you weren’t so focused on her, you might just pinch yourself.

Jennifer’s smile grows at your question. She nods as she answers, “Yes. That’s why I’m transferring you over to work for Pug. Because I really, really want to take you out on a date. But I want it to be above board,” You would laugh at how incredibly on brand that is for Jen if you weren’t so close to crying happy tears.

Her eyes search yours for a response. Before she can find one though, you are leaping out of your chair and racing your way around to her side of the desk to throw your arms around her small frame. You bury your face in her shoulder, unbothered by the way her curls tickle your nose and cheeks. A half sob, half laugh leaves you as you whisper, “I can’t believe it took us this long to figure this out.”

Jen’s arms circle back around you as she laughs at your remark, “I'm just glad we figured it out at all. This is what I’ve been dreaming of.”

[crazycookiecrumbles]

Ugh, Men

Masterlist

A/N:  This is just a bit of a mess with some OG6-ish sort of shit added in. TBH IDK why i’m even still writing lmao

Pairings/Characters:  Jennifer Walters x Platonic! Reader; Avengers x Reader (Platonic —for now? IDFK)

Warnings: fluffy crack, attorney bashing; Tony being delinquent on his level one tony stark bullshit

Summary:  Jennifer’s in town on a little vacation to visit Bruce, which happens to be a perfect time to invite you so she can catch up with her best friend. 

Jennifer’s head flew back as she laughed, her hands flailing in front of her while you were shaking your head, pinching the bridge of your nose as the memory of what had happened replayed itself in your mind.

“And this is why I hate attorneys,” you told your best friend while she continued to laugh.

“Oh, come on. We’re not all that bad, right?” She asked you with a straight face before you both started to snort and laugh.  You both took a shot together and took a few seconds to yourselves before she nodded and moved her hand, gesturing for you to continue. “Okay. So, you told the guy to restate his appearance for the record, right?”

“First, I laughed at him because I couldn’t believe he had the audacity to speak that fast,” you explained.

“Ah, so that’s how you ended up with Mr. Slow-Mo.”

“Who does that?” You scoffed. “Honestly, that man is too old and too seasoned to be treating the court reporter with that much vinegar. They know how it works! Slowly and clearly for the record or it’s not getting taken down. Ugh, I wanted to punch him so badly in his smug little face after he started to say his name in slow motion. Does he think he’s funny? He’s not. Dickhead. Ugh.”

“Well, it’s over now, and you’ve got a funny story to tell. Plus, you didn’t punch him, so that makes you even doubly better than him,” Jennifer pointed out.

“You know? I think you’re doubly right,” you replied and raised another shot glass.

Beaming, she grab another shot. You two toasted each other and downed your shots.

You and Jennifer had a long history together. You’d met each other while you were still working as a freelance court reporter. You were new, unseasoned, and had yet to be comfortable putting most of these older, stubborn, arrogant attorneys in their places in order to make your job easier. 

You’d met one day when you were growing particularly more and more frustrated with the plaintiff’s attorney. Having told him to stop interrupting and to slow down so many times, your hands were shaking and you yourself weren’t sure if you were going to cry or scream or both. Jennifer had asked to go off the record, and you couldn’t lie, you had wished she stayed on the record just to take down the verbal undressing she gave this man.

After the transcripts were done and there was no longer risk of any conflict, you two were having drinks together and sharing experiences. The rest? Well, safe to say, it was history.

Now, the two of you were sitting comfortably in Avengers tower. Jennifer was in town visiting her cousin and she was happy to visit you as well after you had moved to New York for a job in the courts rather than freelance any longer.

“You wanted to beat that guy for making a joke? Tough crowd. You sure you just didn’t need some chocolate that day?” Tony asked as he came around the bar to make himself a drink.

You and Jennifer went silent as you both stared at him. From a few feet away, Bruce sighed and grabbed a seat for himself to prepare for what was to come. Natasha rolled her eyes and muttered that she wasn’t going to be saving Tony this time around. Clint, comedically as always, immediately turned off the music that was playing so he could really enjoy this. Thor was mumbling that he was confused, as assault seemed like a fine answer to such arrogance, while Steve muttered that he might be seeing that happen right that moment.

“Some chocolate, really? That’s your response, a PMS joke?” You snapped at Tony who blinked.

“I have some right now, actually, since it sounds like you need —“

“It’s the audacity to hire a court reporter for a service and then to blatantly disrespect them while they’re there to do a job they were hired to do,” Jennifer jumped in. “It’s having the nerve to continue on doing whatever it is they were doing, after the reporter tells them exactly what to do and what not to do! Consider the rage you feel when that SHIELD agency that I totally don’t know about at all contracts you to do something and then does everything they can just to make your life harder .It’s annoying, it’s frustrating, it’s —“

“Please, doesn’t happen. I do what I want,” Tony replied as he sipped his drink.

“It’s a waste, Jennifer. He doesn’t understand because he’s a white man with money and his brain is so far up his ass he feels nothing but pride, even for the stupidest things, 24/7,” you sighed.

“See? She gets it,” Tony beamed and raised his glass like it was a toast.

“Tony is useless and untrainable in these regards, ladies,” Natasha said as she walked over to the table. “I’m afraid he only remotely pretends to understand the female plight when Pepper is involved.”

“Hey? I’m plenty female-friendly! I love women,” Tony argued.

“You literally just stood there for about five minutes and showed how unfriendly you are,” Clint pointed out from across the room. “You didn’t even need to say anything, Tony. All you had to do was shut up and listen.”

“Exactly! You don’t have to feel the need to chime in on every single thing, Stark. All you have to do is sit down, shut up, smile, and look pretty while the women take care of business,” Jennifer told him, taking his drink from his hands and chugging it herself.

Tony blinked several times as he watched her, “Dare I say, Banner, your cousin is a little hostile with men. I am a victim here.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes and looked to Natasha, “Let me know when you want to file a lawsuit against him.I’ll make it happen.”

“Thank you, Jen. Far more useful than Bruce,” Natasha teased.

“Hey!” Bruce whined from his seat, hands going up in the air. “I did absolutely nothing wrong!”

“I mean, you totally could’ve told Tony to shut up instead of sitting down to watch the show, Bruce, allyship,” Clint said as he grabbed a slice of pizza.

Now Tony and Bruce both glared at Clint. They shared a look with one another before nodding. Tony began to throw ice cubes at Clint while Bruce announced he was going to go and break all of his arrows. Clint shouted in protest, ducking the ice and grabbing his pizza as he ran to go make sure his arrows went untouched.

Thor’s brow furrowed as he looked around at everyone, “Are we not going to punish these men, or what?”

You blinked as you raised your hand, “Actually, I’d totally go and — “

“I think you just need another drink,” Jennifer snorted as she poured another shot for you.

Natasha leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Let me know if you want to get some revenge on that attorney.”

“Natasha,” Steve said in a warning tone as he looked at her.

Natasha rolled her eyes and stood up straight, “Oh, golly, sorry grandpa. Didn’t realize you were the parent in charge tonight.”

Steve sighed heavily as he stared up at the ceiling and shook his head.

[fandom-go-round]

Can we get some more head cannons for the avengers dating a kryptonian? With ones of your choice that haven't been done yet?

Being an Avenger for like 10 minutes counts, right? Right.

Daredevil:

Matt knew that you weren’t human but had no idea you were Krypotonian. Your cells react differently and when you’re in the sun you seem to sing. It can be really distracting when the two of you spend time together, Matt having to remember to focus on you and not your body. It takes a while before the two of you have a conversation about your secret lives, mostly because you’re both nervous to bring it up to the other. It does make things more fun when he finds you in the field, pretending not to know who you are and flirting with you.

You being Kryptonian is more of a comfort to you then him to be honest. Matt will always be focused on Hell’s Kitchen and you’re all over the world. He can get jealous of your powers sometimes, mostly when he feels helpless. This doesn’t stop him from risking his life but having you in his corner is good. You’ve saved him a few times and do help clean up the Kitchen so Matt forgives you for treating him like a damsel in distress (even if he does kind of like it).

 She-Hulk:

Jennifer loves that you’re unashamed of who you are. She loves her powers and if you love yours too it makes her happy. She’s very supportive if you’re feeling down or want to talk through feeling isolated. Jenn goes out of her way to plan dates that only the two of you can do. Building bridges, jumping through the jungle, climbing mountains. She’s not afraid to test your strength against her own and loves when you cut loose with her.

She teases you about needing the sun, calling you her little house plant. No, she doesn’t care that she’s the green one, the joke is funny let her tell it. Jenn does frown if you have a secret identity but understands if you don’t want to be as public as she is. She loves when you go on missions together, enjoying fighting by your side. She thinks that you’re a power couple and is happy to talk/show you off to anyone who will listen.

[the-broken-truth]

Marvel Headcanon: She-Hulk/Jennifer Walters x Male Lycan Reader

Broken Truth: I was watching some old clips of She-Hulk from a cartoon and this idea started swimming around in my head; best to get it out before it turns into a storm. I'm adding She-Hulk to my Marvel List so feel free to request her sometimes. Let the words weave together.

When Jennifer first met you, you were hanging out with her cousin - Bruce - about something important and she found you cute; strong, muscular male with short [hair color] hair and focused [eye color] eyes, wearing a black shirt with blue jeans and boots, you had some scars on your forearms but that only added to your appeal in her eyes. She wanted to get to know you better.

She approached you and started flirting with you but her cousin told her not to bother you because you were trying to focus on the machine you were working on, however, she didn't listen to her cousin and continued to flirt with you but you just smirked and rose to your feet and faced her with a raised eyebrow. You asked her did she really think that she could handle you but she just chuckled and began flexing her muscles before you just transformed into your Lycan Form; now towering over her, causing her to gasp and look up to you.

"I'll repeat my question, gorgeous." You started while wrapping your fingers against her chin, making her look directly into your eyes, "Do you really think that you can handle me?" You growled into her ear, making her shiver from the heat against her ear shell. The She-Hulk nearly swooned at the action performed by you and chuckled again before she met your eyes again, she placed her hands on your furry but muscular chest before she stood on her tiptoes to reach your ear.

"You have no idea just how much I can handle, Wolfy; how about we find out together?" She whispered in your ear but Bruce got in between both of you and pushed you away from each other, causing both of you to look down at him.

"Jennifer, stop flirting with [Name], he has work to do, and [Name] transform back and stop flirting with my cousin." Bruce demanded before you exhaled and reverted back to your human form; thankfully, your clothes didn't rip off and even if they did, you were wearing an elastic suit underneath your clothes. You got back to work on the machine while Jeniffer started pouting at her cousin before she began walking to her own side of the room and leaned against the wall, but still watching you work.

You were something she wanted - a man to love her and take care of her, while she didn't need a man to care for her, she still liked the thought and you seemed to have checked all the boxes of a potential partner; you were strong, handsome, serious when you needed to be but flirty just like her and don't even get her started on your transformation. She was going to have fun getting to know you better.

[unholyhelbig]

fuck yes wandanat!!!

Center picture Cred: Jadiakallisti

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

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Wordcount: 3977

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

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

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

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck?!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Do I look like a zombie to you?”

“A little,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re deflecting.”

“Perhaps.”

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

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

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

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

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

“A plan?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brains?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How is this happening?”

“I don’t know,” You rasped.

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

“You smell so bad,” She sobbed.

“Yeah, well, I was dead.”

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

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

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

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

“I don’t… I don’t remember anything.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“aw, fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s a fish, he can’t drown.”

“In air.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist: No one yet :(

[incorrectquotesmcu]

Jennifer: Wait, you two are sleeping together?

Y/N: Only when we’re done having sex…

Natasha: [facepalms]

[ramen-flavored]

ITS ABOUT DAMN TIME

[so-far-frogs-and-oscar]

Matt Murdock: *literally one of the biggest marvel sluts* Me: *loving him in the most innocent kind of love and giggling while looking at him*

Ironic shit

[murdock-barnes]

OH MY GOD!!!! Matt Murdock in a flannel🤤 Matt Murdock being happy, carefree and domestic. What a time to be alive😌😌 So happy for him😭

[flowerwood122]

He's watching you being cute.

You had insisted on going and doing something fun, he can't say no to you, so of course you guys go to a carnival. You tell him that he can sit back and just watch because you know your old cranky man so well and he doesn't really like to do anything, but he will do it for you.

He's sitting back watching you as you try and win the biggest prize from one of the booths, and when you get denied it for the fifth time, you just leave. You're bummed but you just figure that today is just not your day. You tell Bucky that you're going to go and get something to eat, and he insists on staying where he was. When you returned, he had the biggest prize sat on his lap.

he literally destroyed the game (mostly on accident, but he didn't feel bad about it because they were literally scamming people and children)

[crazycookiecrumbles]

Jennifer Walters Masterlist

Masterlist

One-Shots

Ugh, Men

[poppyisnotaflower]

"Well, you can’t mask that ass. I’d know it anywhere."

[marvel-spidey]

no BUT HEAR ME OUT as a fanfic writer i was screaminggg bc this episode had SO many moments that felt like it came straight out of a matt x reader fic

- matt listening to jen’s heartbeat and giving that goddamn smirk that only he can give 😭😭

- him all smiley while saying “i can take you out to dinner sometime”

- the soft flirty conversation while sitting on a rooftop

- matt IN THE DAREDEVIL SUIT PASSIONATELY KISSING

i swear to god it feels like my brain just made that shit up it lol it doesn’t feel real this is the best day of my life i am not even kidding

[jaehyunsbreadbasket]

Kinktober '22 Day 9: Smart Hulk

Prompt: Shapeshifting/Monster Fucking

Word Count: 531

Synopsis: Bruce's partner begged him to fuck them in his Hulk form. They learn that they should be careful what they wish for.

Consists of: Dom!SmartHulk, AFABSub!Reader, Size kink, Monster fucking essentially (Smart Hulk to Regular Hulk), Brief pain from the dick being too big, Finger sucking, Brief gagging, Reader gets fucked dumb

I had seriously overestimated my endurance, and the size of my pussy, that was grossly clear to me now. Here I lay, legs spread as wide as possible on the bed, Bruce's big, green cock squeezing inside of me. I had been begging Bruce for days to fuck me in his Hulk form, craving the feeling of a huge dick stretching me out, the sight of his huge, viridescent body hovering above me. To be honest it hurt like hell, but at the same time, it felt too good to want him to stop.

My pussy clenches around him without my control, as if it had a mind of it's own, as if it was trying to push him out. The intelligent monster lets out a big, boisterous moan at the sensation, but notices the twisted expression on my face, "I told you that you wouldn't be able to handle it sweetie. Now look at you, I'm only a quarter into your cunt and you're already spasming around me," Bruce's large verdant hand strokes my face in a way I'm sure is meant to be soft, but the weight of his hand as well as his cock just feels so heavy.

"I c-can handle it. It feels good," and it really does, the stretch is absloutly delicious, and when I look beyond the pain, the feeling of his cock repeatedly hitting my cervix is toe curling.

The way that Bruce is rocking into me, gigantic body making me hit the headboard with every thrust. He stares at me intensely with his glass covered eyes, his lips twisting into a smile.

"W-want your fingers" I whimper to Bruce, he stabilizes his enormous figure before he allows one of his massive digits to slip between my lips. I immediately gag as he hits the back of my throat, slob already drooling around my mouth.

"FUCK!" Bruce roars out, a voice not entirely his own booming around the room. He begins to piston his hips into me now, his whole cock still not fitting inside me, the bulge popping out of my stomach showing he's as far in as he can go. My whole body shakes as he loses control, thrusting into me relentlessly. The sounds that come out of his mouth are loud and angry, I can see the shift in his eyes, I'm not being fucked by Bruce anymore.

"Shit, shit, shit!" I scream after The Hulk pulls his fingers out of my mouth, takes off Bruce's glasses and smashes them, throwing them across the room. It feels like his cock has gotten even bigger and my body is beginning to feel numb. I'm so close, and at this point my mind is completely checked out.

"Cumming...cumming...cum-" and suddenly, I'm seeing white, my pussy convulsing around the colossal, inhumane, phallus inside of me.

The Hulk lets out another thunderous sound, and abruptly, I feel even more full than I did before. Huge ropes of hot semen painting my insides, "B-Bruce..." I call out.

"No. No Bruce," The Hulk responds to me.

I close my eyes and allow myself to drift off, hoping that Bruce will return by the time I wake up.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Prompt from: @waterkelpies

My Kinktober 2022 Masterlist 🎃

[incorrectquotesmcu]

Y/N: We have to leave, I kissed Natasha again.

Jennifer: What? Already? What happened?

Y/N: I don’t know! It all happened so fast and it was a unisex bathroom! Emphasis on the sex!

[fandomnerd9602]

Loki: ever been smashed by a Hulk?

Y/N: oh yeah

Loki: it’s the worst isn’t it?

Y/N: worst? It’s the best!

Jennifer walks in…

Jennifer: hey babe wanna smash? (Winks)

Y/N: oh yeah

Jennifer picks up Y/N and walks away…

Loki:

For @konstantin609