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#steve rodgers
fotibrit · 7 months
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Tony, Bruce, Steve, and Peter are all very sarcastic characters but it’s in exceptionally different ways.
Tony is only child sarcastic. about everything, all the time. he’s like a puppy who desperately wants someone to play fight with him (“In prostitution? of course you’re not, you’re a senator” “My least favorite person on earth, Justin Hammer, Hi!” “I won’t join your super secret boy band”)
Bruce is oldest child funny. He dosnt use sarcasm all the time, carefully picking his moments. His timing and delivery are perfect every single time (“You’ve rented my room” “Only when I’ve built a murder bot” “I see this as an absolute win”)
Steve is middle child funny. He’s mastered the art of the deadpan delivery, and he does not in the slightest mind making a joke before kicking someone’s ass. He’s also got a joke that, in his mind, gets funnier each time he uses it (“On your left” “Before we get started, does anyone want to get out?” “secure the engine room, then find me a date”)
Peter is youngest child funny. He cracks jokes effortlessly, and sometimes it wasn’t intended to be a joke but is received as such. (You have a metal arm?! AWESOME!” “I can’t got to germany… I got homework” “BYE! Mr criminal!”)
Anyways, I think each of them is hilarious and deserves more appreciation
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pixiexdusts-world · 11 months
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Incorrect quote
Bucky: Dumbest scar stories, go!
Y/n: I burned my tongue once drinking tea.
Natasha: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it.
Steve: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade.
Tony: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and got a really bad burn.
Peter: …
Peter: I have emotional scars.
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1800jjbarnes · 6 months
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◇ 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏 : 𝐂𝐚𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐱 - 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 ◇
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Gloomy Days
【Synopsis】 : A trip turned sour due to a storm. But luckily, Steve knows just the thing in turning this gloomy day into a more steamy one.
『W.C』 :  1.07k
-> Genre: Fluff. Slice of slice. Smut
Paring: Boyfriend!Steve x F.Reader  
[Warnings] : Swearing. Petnames (Stevie, Peach, Baby). Making out. Steve got big dick energy. Riding. Hand job-ish. Unprotected sex (that's a no, no).
Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober 2023 list.
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The rain poured heavily as the hot summer day out turned quickly into a stormy stay-at-home kind of day. You and Stev ran without a second thought as soon as the first drop of water hit your forehead, spilling down your cheek. Once you finally made it to Steve's car, he opened the boot to let you crawl in haste. He soon followed you once he had finished poorly folding the picnic blanket, and when you say folded, it was more scrunched up and thrown onto one of the car's back seats.
“Well, today was not what I planned.” Steve huffed, feeling disappointment riddle his mind. This was your six-month anniversary date, and he had planned to make the none other than special. But what he didn’t expect was to be soaked head to toe in buckets of water. 
“It’s okay, I still had fun.” You chimed in with a big smile still plastered on your face. You were cuddled up to him, with your legs dangling out of the car, all the while watching a little water stream starting to form in front of you. “We can still continue the fun here.” Your words got caught in your throat as blush taints your plump cheeks, suddenly recalling back just before the storm set in and you and Steve were peacefully making out on a picnic blanket in the middle of nowhere. He smirked ear to ear, finding your words rather dirty, even though they mostly had an innocent intent. You were just talking about the softness of the date, not the… other stuff.
He didn’t say anything in response to you. Instead, he turned his whole body, pushing you down in the back of his large car boot. His hand rested on the back of your head while he urged you to lay down, letting your head hit the floor with a huff. His lips latch onto yours in seconds, biting and sucking a moan out of you. you bucked your hips up, feeling his knee push slightly against your clothed core. Your body began to crave him, no longer feeling cold from the rain, but rather annoyed the your wet clothes were blocking his way. 
“Stevie…” your whimpers were music to his ears. Pulling away, his breath hitched, seeing your glossed expression. You are perfect in every way to him, your voice, your personality, your body. You. He was whipped, hooked on your love, and wanted nothing more than you make you his every day, at every hour, and every moment he could. 
He’s addicted.
“Don’t worry, Peach, I got you.” His deep voice swoons you as his large fingers curl into the fabric of your clothing, promptly pulling and tuging until the material falls off your body. Your wet skin scratched against the floor but you couldn't care less at that moment, all you cared about was Steve's cock deep inside you. His fingers danced around your clit, feeling your slick already soaking your cunt and thighs from the earlier make-out session. 
“I can’t wait just…please…” You were growing impatient, and the way you were laying down was starting to make your body ache. So without another moment, Steve pulled down his pants, letting his cock spring free. He was about to lift your legs when you pushed on his chest slightly, making him sit down so his back would lean against the car seat. He was confused at your sudden boldness, Never have you ridden him before so this was new. But he’d be lying if he said this wasn’t the hottest thing he had ever seen. 
You, naked and soaked. Hair messy and making up running. All the while, you were crawling to take a seat on his lap. He must have died and went to heaven. Your legs sat on either side of his thick thighs. Your eyes never leaving his as you reach down for his cock, stroking the shaft in a harsh couple of pumps. His groans went straight to your core, feeling pride pool in the pit of your stomach. 
“You gonna ride me, baby?” He growls, gripping your hips, tugging you towards him in one movement. You just giggled at his dirty words, feeling his tip slide along your slit. Your smile quickly turned down, while your brows crossed, notioning his cock to easily slip inside you. “That’s it Peach. Take what’s yours.”
You quickly ground yourself, moving your hips at a steady pace. Back and forward. Up and down. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pushing your breast against his chest. His pants grew heavier as your moans grew louder. You were both desperate, lost in one another to the point neither of you cared that the door of the boot was still wide open. Thank god Steve picked a secluded place. 
“Stevie please….nghh.” Your slurred moans called for Steve, making him wrap his hand on the back of your neck, pulling your face out of the crook of his. You were drooling, with the most beautiful fucked out expression Steve could have ever seen. Fuck, he wanted to bust a nut then and there from your face alone. He knew you were close to cumming and he wanted, no, needed you to cum before him. He needed to feel your clench around him while your juices painted his cock. So he planted his feet down, bringing his knees up before helping you thrust deep, hard and fast inside you. 
Your body falls limp as he lets go of your neck so he can grip your hips with power. You called his name over and over like a broken record, clenching around him harshly as you came undone. His movements didn't faltered though, as he chased his own high. And after a couple more thrusts he felt himself snap, spilling his cum deep inside your soaked puffy pussy.
His thrusts became sloppy until they stopped altogether. He could feel your heartbeat racing against his chest while your breathing matched his. You stayed like that for a while, sitting in silence as Steve rubbed shapes into your lower back lovingly. You opened your eyes for a moment and noticed the rain had stopped, and the sun was beginning to shine through the gloomy clouds. A smile caught your features at you thought, Maybe today didn’t go completely as planned, but it still was a great day nonetheless.
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writersblockedx · 4 months
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Challenged Expectations
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Pairing - Loki x Fem!Reader Summary - When Loki joins the Avengers team, he certainly isn't given a warm welcome. Until one night, he opens up to yourself. Warnings - Some violence? Words - 2.5K
Masterlist
It wasn't up to you whether it was a good idea or not. Frankly, if you were sat at the head of the Avengers table, you might have suggested against it. And Tony Stalk certainly had done, but he wasn't the one at the head of the table (despite what he wanted to think); Nicky Fury was. What he said went and you weren't stupid enough to pick a fight with Nick Fury.
Tony, however, Tony was that stupid.
"He's the bad guy Fury, we put him in that prison cell in the first place!"
"It's called rehabilitation."
You glanced at Nat: head in her hands. You weren't wasting your time sat in that seat any longer. Without a word, you took your papers which you attended the meeting for and headed for the door. Your attempt to escape didn't go unnoticed; you were stupid to think that it would.
Tony's glare swapped to you, his fingers snapping before your hand could even reach the glass door which separated the meeting room from the rest of the quarters. "Hey, hey, where do you think you're going? We're in the middle of something."
"No," You gestured between him and Fury, "You two are in the middle of something and I'm not in the mood to be listening to it anymore." Just before you slipped away, you made sure to add, "And just so you know, you're wasting your breath."
You wished Tony had believed you. But he was more naive than he cared to believe.
He made it quite known to you all when the papers had been signed, that he was pleased he wasn't living in the compound. Truth was, everyone was apprehensive. Even Fury's fingers itched as the move-in day crept closer and closer. His bedroom was being made. You watched as emerald bed sheets were covered across the once blank slate of the spare room, specs of golden decor and the thing which confused you most: a bookshelf. It was never your first assumption that ex-super-villains were bookworms.
When the day finally arrived, New York was quiet. The news had broke to the public and suddenly all eyes were on the team, watching as they welcomed someone who was once such a foe to them all.
You had been watching from the training room's floor-to-ceiling windows. A beam of light shot to the entrance and there he stood, amid Asgardian and Avenger security. His wrists were cuffed, stopping him from hugging his brother as Thor welcomed him. Though, you did wonder, even if the man wasn't cuffed, would they have even wanted to hug? Thor had always spoken fondly of his brother but accepted his faults and quite brutal mistakes. To him, however, rehabilitation was an excuse he could get behind. The rest of the team still weren't fully convinced.
You would remember the next moment for the rest of your life. Just as you were staring down from the window, fidgeting with the blade between your fingers you had been practising with, the man below turned his head. And his eyes met with yours. He didn't blink, nor did he make any expression. He just stared and you could never forget the feeling of shivers which crept up your back.
It was an hour later, after you had finished training and freshened up when you met the man for the first time. Well, when he re-introduced himself.
The two brothers sat at the breakfast bar, sharing some Asgardian liquor you were far too human to even. You were, however, on the hunt for dinner. The second you stepped foot into the kitchen, their casual conversation slowed and eyes flickered to you. Ones of which you attempted to ignore. But then he stood and you had almost forgotten how tall he was when he was standing over you like that.
Your eyes had widened, his sudden stance having taken you aback. He offered a hand, "Loki," He grinned as if you didn't already know.
You shook his hand. But it was light, quick and futile. "We have met before." You muttered, opening the fridge door and trying to spot what would be the quickest to make: noodles.
 "Under much different circumstances, of course." He went on.
You glanced to him. He was still standing; why was he still standing? "Which is why it's going to take much more of a handshake to just move on."
Loki accepted that, took one look at your turned back and moved to sit back with his brother.
To be fair to the man, he didn't create much fuss about his unwelcoming welcome. In fact, he seemed to have already accepted that to be the case before he ever even stepped foot in the compound. And the rest of the team were happy with that; letting him get on with things silently. Not that it had lasted for long.
A certain heist mission had made Loki tip. He, you, Natasha and Tony were to retrieve a piece of alien tech that had fallen into the wrong hands. Some warehouse off the Amalfi cost was looking to trade said piece of technology into even worse hands. Easy job. One of which at least three of you had done several times before. Now should have been no different. But now you had Loki. Even before you stepped onto the jet, things were tense.
It got even worse when the warehouse had a better defence than any of you had imagined. "Where the hell are you guys?" Stalk chimed into your earpiece.
You and Natasha were practically back to back, protecting the few citizens who populated the small island (living right next to criminals they didn't know existed). Your blade was swirling across a soldier's throat before you dared to answer Stalk, "Me and Romonoff have our hands tied right now."
"Doing what? Kissing each other's asses." He sneered.
Your elbow hit the gut of another soldier, "I wish." Natasha huffed.
"We're at the back of the warehouse." A punch to his chin. Another. He went down after the third. Though, you weren't certain he was dead. "There's citizens we didn't know about."
Tony paused and then you heard a sigh through your ear. "Well I've got the bloody hydro-whatever it's called and I've also got a huge group of soldiers 30 seconds away from man-handling me for it!" There was an anger laced in his tone.
You glanced to Natasha who had just pulled the trigger of her gun; another five soldiers awaited their turn to fight you both. "We're tied up Tony." You admitted as you readied yourself for the bruises to come. 
There was, of course, one other option. An option of which Tony refused to ask for. So, for what you thought must have been the first time, you heard Loki's voice come through. "I'm right around the corner from you."
You never saw it happen. You just heard their voices. In the midst of keeping the soldiers in front of you at bay, you heard their argument unfold.
"What are you doing?" Said Loki, a panic growing in his tone that made it hard to concentrate and instantly raised the question: what was Tony doing? "Stalk! I'm here." A moment passed. "Pass it me!"
It was quiet when it came but each of you heard it loud and clear: "Not happening."
The travel home was mockingly quiet. Tony navigated the jet back to the compound, you and Nat sat across from one another in silence and Loki scoured the corner of the ship, as far from Tony as he could get. For once, you didn't blame him. You had failed this mission because Tony refused to work as a team. And now God knows where that piece of Tech was heading.
But even that travel home could not compare to the wrath Fury had been waiting to give you all.
"The three of you," He glared between Tony, yourself and Natasha. You had all been seated on a sofa while Fury paced the room. "Are some of my top agents-"
Tony raised his hand, "I'm not one of your agents."
"I wouldn't even start, Stalk." Fury's tone cut through the atmosphere like a knife to butter. "You're the reason we got into this mess." He made clear. "Teamwork. That's what the Avengers are, it's what we strive to create. Which was why I was certain bringing in Loki would work, his skills are what we need right now and I had my confidence in all of you that you would accept that."
Discreetly, your head turned to the dark-haired man. He was sat at the edge of the sofa while the three of you seemed huddled together. He didn't seem smug, nor did he seem upset. If anything, he was just disappointed to be sat in front of Fury this way. "You," Fury was looking only at Tony now, "It's your responsibility to make this right now. Get that tech before it blows up a European country."
The failed mission had hit all of the team. The air was thick and any words spoken between the Avengers did little to clear that. You didn't dare address it. Rather, for most of that week, you secluded yourself in your room, or the training grounds, doing whatever you could to ignore the memory of what had happened.
One night, your mind simply wouldn't shut off. It was tossing and turning around the idea of where that tech was right now and what they were planning to do with it. And as much as you repeatedly told yourself it wasn't your fault and that Tony was tracking the tech, it didn't help much with your insomnia. So rather than wallow in your bed, you crawled from it and wandered into the kitchen. A drink might just help you.
You thought you were alone. It was dark and quiet. So why ever would you think that there was someone watching you from the sofa adjacent from the kitchen. "What are you doing?"
You had practically jumped from your skin, "Jesus!" You turned, mug gripped in your hands as you faced the black-haired God. "What the hell, Loki!"
He slid from the sofa, "I didn't mean to scare you."
Your head clocked to the side, unimpressed, "Really?"
"Really." For once, he seemed sincere. "I'll ask again, what are you doing?"
"Couldn't sleep." Your gaze followed him as he slowly gained closer to you. "Thought a drink might help."
He didn't say anything, only looked back at where he was sitting. There, by the sofa he had been lying on, was a half-empty glass and a bottle of wine. "Suppose I had a different sort of drink in mind."
You don't know what pulled you to your decision but suddenly, you were putting back the mug and instead, taking out another wine glass. The man across from you smirked before leading the way back over to the living area. "I'm only doing this because I think it will help me sleep." You made clear.
"I wouldn't expect anything else." His words had given a slight tinge in your chest. One of which you chose to ignore. Anything that resembled sympathy for Loki was something you were always going to ignore, but it was something which had become more common recently. "Is it the mission?" He questioned, seemingly without a beat. "Or failed mission as everyone makes sure to name it." 
You looked to the red obis that swirled in front of you. That was easier than staring into the curious eyes of Loki, "Ding, ding, ding." Your laugh was hoarse, "I just can't stop thinking about what else I could have done."
"Nothing." His words cut through you like a dagger. Your eyes shot up; his were already trailing across you. "You and Romanoff were miles away. This failed mission was one person's fault and everyone knows that." 
Suddenly, his eyes weren't so intimidating. Perpahs they were even inviting like a warm bath ready to engulf your skin. "Are you enjoying this? Proving Tony wrong, being praised due to his downfall."
His head shook lightly, "No, I haven't enjoyed causing others embarrassment for some time now." Certainly hadn't been the answer you expected. "But I can't say I'm not happy that people are finally waking up."
His words caused your brow to quirk, "Waking up to what?" 
He chuckled into his wine, "Oh, come on, I don't need to spell it out for you." The look that you shot back at the man suggested that he did in fact have to spell it out. "Ignoring me, pretending as if I'm not there, that's only going to cause problems. In this case, a big problem." With that, he took a long sip from his glass, not breaking eye contact with you.
For a moment, you were unsure what to say. Suppose that's what you get for agreeing to sit down with the ex-villain; things were bound to get awkward. "I'm sorry we-" You stopped yourself and your gaze dropped to the floor. "I made you feel that way." You made sure to correct yourself. 
"It was to be expected."
Your eyes gazed back at him; silence. But not so awkward any more. It seemed that barrier had been broken now. A huff fell from your lips as you threw yourself further into the sofa, shoulder to shoulder with the God himself. You needed only turn your head now, only slightly, and suddenly there were only inches between the two of you. "And you don't want to be king anymore?"
He laughed ever so softly it seemed to tug you closer, like you were a fish on a hook, ready to dangle from Loki's fingertips. "No, no, my royal days are over." He seemed sure of such.
A second or so passed until you became curious again, "Then what do you want?" Why else was he here?
You were staring up at him; them inches between you were slowly getting smaller. "I'm not sure." His voice only a breathless whisper hitting your skin, erupting goosebumps. "I think I'm-" He paused as you both became ever so aware of what was about to follow. "I'm figuring things out-"
His lips hit yours. All patience was lost, the need to finish his words left him and suddenly his mind was engulfed by the thought of your kiss. And when you pulled from it, your pupils lingering on his, you should have been regretful. You should have been thinking about what Stalk was going to say, or the consequences fury would make sure fell to you or even the teasing Natasha and Steve were sure to make. Instead, all you could think about was how at peace you felt and how you were already desperate for more. 
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ao3topshipsbracket · 6 months
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AO3 Top Relationships Bracket- Round 2 Side 2
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This poll is a celebration of fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with many of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement, and refrain from harassment.
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miserable-sarah · 1 year
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MASTERLIST
Supernatural:
Sam Winchester:
Caught (NEW) ~ Y/n needs to relax, Dean leaves and Sam takes the opportunity to help her. ~ 18+, NSFW, SMUT.
The Date ~ Y/n is getting ready for a big date with Sam, Sam surprises her at the date. ~ No warnings, very sweet story.
The Red Dust ~ Sam and Y/n go on a hunt together, it goes sideways and they get hit with a spell. Y/n needs release and doesn't know how to get it. ~ 18+, NSFW, MDNI, choking, smut.
What? ~ Rough sex with sam, a couple months later you find out you're pregnant and you tell him after a hunt. ~ 18+. NSFW, MDNI, pregnancy
Listen ~ You go on a bad hunt, a hunt you weren't supposed to go on. ~ 18+, Daddy Kink, NSFW
Bad Boy ~ Sam is possessed by a demon. A Vey hot Sam. ~18+, NSFW
Shy Sam ~ Sam likes you, Dean teases him about it. ~ No warnings.
Something New ~ Y/n is casually drinking at a bar, Souless sam approaches. ~ 18+, Souless Sam, mentions of killing/murder, NSFW
I'm Here ~ You get taken by Crowely, Sam finds you and saves you. ~ 18+, NSFW, Kidnapping, mentions of smut
Sammy ~ Sammys got a big crush on you. ~No warnings, just cute.
Hurt ~ You and Sam get hurt during a hunt, you get some days off together. ~ voilence, fluff.
Sam's Got A Crush ~ How Sam would act when he's got a crush. ~ Blurb, No warnings.
I Will Always Love You ~ Y/n is depressed. ~ Sad, language.
Party ~ You and Sam go to a party and play spin the bottle. ~ Teenage Sam and Reader (18), Drinking.
Are You Alright ~ You asked Sam to be more rough in bed. He delivers. ~ 18+, NSFW.
Dating Sam ~ Dating Sam ~ Blurb, No warnings.
Just Thinking ~ Y/n can't help but notice how good Sam looks. Y/n has a lot of dirty thoughts. ~ 18+, NSFW, mentions of sex.
For the First Time ~ Sam and Y/n meet through Donna. ~ No warnings.
Thank you ~ Sam hates the way Dean treats you, he takes you from Dean. ~ 18+, NSFW, Abuse.
I Have To Tell You ~ Y/n gets hurt on the hunt, Sam decides he needs to tell her how he truly feels. ~ Reader getting hurt.
Feel Loved ~ Y/n has bad luck with relationships, she's really lonely and wants to feel loved. ~ 18+, NSFW, drinking, bossy Sam, bossy y/n.
Sam? PT. 1 ~ Sam is a demon. ~ 18+, NSFW, Demon rough Sam <3.
Sam? PT. 2 (Final) ~ Demon Sam ~ 18+, NSFW, tied up.
Dean Winchester:
I Care (NEW) ~ Dean and Y/n break up, after a few months Dean saves her from a vamp nest. They make up. ~ 18+, NSFW
I'm Back! ~Y/n leaves randomly one day, Y/n is gone for 6 years. She comes back. Dean hasn't gotten over her leaving. ~ fighting, no other warnings.
I Dare You ~ Dean protects you. ~ No warnings.
Dean's Got A Crush ~ Dean's got a crush on you ~ Blurb, No warnings.
I've Missed You ~ You haven't seen Dean for 6 years, he left you. He didn't want you to get hurt. You run into him during a hunt. ~ 18+, smut
Dating Dean ~Dating dean ~ Blurb, No warnings.
Life Is Hard ~ Reader is depressed. ~ Sad
Time For Bed ~ quick little fluff. ~ No warnings.
Can I See Your Tattoo? ~ Y/n finally gets the nerve to make a move on Dean ~ 18+. NSFW
Just Go Away ~ Dean gets mad at Y/n after a hunt. ~ 18+, NSFW
Fucking Car ~ Y/n is mad because Dean spends all his time working on his car. ~ 18+
Finally ~Y/n and Dean have a crush on each other, the never tell each other. One day Y/n walks into the bathroom while Dean is in there, he takes control and kisses her. ~ 18+, smut, Loving Dean (warning for the heart. )
Lucky ~ Y/n gets kidnapped by Crowley, he tortures her trying to get info, Dean and Sam save her. Dean eventually tells her that he wants a life with her. ~ Voilence, torture, blood.
Please. ~ You wanted to dominate over Dean for once and he let you. ~ 18+, NSFW, sub Dean.
Sam, Dean, Prefrences:
NYE Parties ~ Sam and Dean's NYE ~ No warnings.
How He Would React ~ How he gets when you flirt with someone else. ~ 18+, NSFW
Marvel:
Bucky Barnes:
Mine (NEW) ~ Bucky is your boss, you always had a little crush on him. He has one on you too and he shows you. ~ 18+ only, NSFW, Smut, sir kink, Dom(Bucky).
I hate you ~ You and Bucky get stuck on a mission together 18+ ~ Smut mentioned, voilence, language.
You forgot me ~ Bucky gets controlled again, he forgets you. ~ Fighting, language.
Let's go on a date ~ You and Bucky meet in 1940, he takes you out on a date. You end up meeting again after he's taken. ~ Language.
Take Me Home ~ A guy hits on you, Bucky gets jealous. You find it hot and want him to take you home. ~ Smut, NSFW, choking, praising kink.
Date ~ Bucky takes you out on a date after being told by your cousin Clint. You and Bucky have a wonderful time. ~ NO warnings.
Never ~ Steve leaves you and Bucky helps you get through it. ~ Sad, death
Chris Evans/ Steve Rogers/ Lloyd Hansen:
Sunshine ~ Lloyd takes you. ~ NSFW, 18+, Blade kink, Daddy Kink, ect.
I Don't Really Give A Shit What You Want ~ Chris pisses you off so you give him the silent treatment. He gets back at you. ~ 18+, NSFW, rough.
Sit ~ Chris comes back from a trip very frustrated. ~ NSFW, 18+, ect.
Let's Stay ~ Steve wants to stay home. ~ No warnings.
Impressive (NEW) ~ Steve always has to be in control ~ 18+, NSFW
Thor:
I Need You ~ Thor comes back, he's sad, mad, and needy. ~ Smut, 18+.
I've Missed You. (NEW) ~ Thor comes back from Asgard, he shows you how much he's missed you. ~ 18+, NSFW, sweet but rough Thor.
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its-really-dry · 1 year
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nat & wanda: *runs in and hides behind the couch, panting hard*
sam: tf!? whats going on!?
steve: are you girls alright? you look extremely pale!
nat: y-y-y/n-n! they're t-trying t-t-to capture us!
tony: im sorry. capture?
clint: *sips coffee calmly* ahhh yes. t'is the season to harvest the gingers
steve, tony & sam: !?!?!??!?!?!
clint: *raises an eyebrow* for the gingerbread?
steve, tony & sam: !!!!!!!!!!
y/n: *burts in the room with a grater and a knife* THOSE HOUSES WON'T BE GINGERBREAD HOUSES WITHOUT THE GINGER
wanda & nat: *scream and run off*
y/n: COME BACK HERE SPECIMENS *runs after them*
tony: ummmm...... is this some sort of role play kink i am unaware of?
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apollosouls-blog · 3 months
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Y/n: Fitness tip: never stop pushing yourself. Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Why not 9? Why not 10? Strive for greatness.
Bucky : Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Burn your ex’s house down. You can do it. I believe in you.
Steve: There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-
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Scarlet Witch: Kneel before me
Y/n:….
Nat: Don’t you dare
Y/n: But-
Steve: No!
Scarlet Witch tilts her head
Y/n falls to their knees
Nat: She’s trying to kill us!
Y/n: Yeah well she can kill me stand on me whatever she wants look at her!
Scarlet Witch: I think I’ll keep you for myself malysh
Y/n: Yes ma’am
Nat: alright well enjoy your new home I’m taking your room and all your secret snacks
Y/n: That’s fine I have a whole 5 course meal in front of me and I'm hungry
Tony: Why are you so horny??? Who gave you oysters?
Y/n: You know I don't like seafood
Scarlet Witch: I'm bored of this nonsense, come with me little one
Y/n: Bye guys I'll call you at Christmas! *Leaves with Scarlet*
Nat: What do I tell her family?!
Tony: She died in battle
Nat: Pretty morbid Tony
Steve shrugs: She made her choice
(Is this not what we'd all do in this situation?)
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Text
RELIGION- S.G ROGERS
Pairing: Normad! Steve Rogers x Innocent/ Virgin! Fem! Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Summary: Steve’s prayers have finally been answered after all these years, as he finds you waiting for him in the church he calls home. Captivated by him and his charm, you get swept up in his arms, to soon find out Steve isn't the saint he painted himself out to be. 
Warnings: SMUT, HEAVY daddy kink, HEAVY innocence/ corruption kink, breeding kink, petnames, degradation kink, heavy praise kink, dumbification kink, finger sucking, teasing, masturbation mentioned,almost like training in a way?, cumplay and gagging implied, blowjob implied, smoking, steve is kinda soft!dark here
Notes: “ cause you’re my religion, you’re how im livin... when all my friends say i should take some space...well i cant envision that for a minute- when im down on my knees you’re how i pray” - religion, lana del rey
the chapel: a playlist
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Steve had not expected to see an angel at the end of the isle, when he stepped through the gleaming oak doors. 
He had been to this church many times in his life, its worn wooden pews and golden crosses familiar to him like the back of his own hand. He had sat in those very pews that lay in rows, no other person around to bother him as he would stare up at the marble statue by the organ, or with his head between his hands as he stared at the rustic floor that so many others had walked before him. 
But he had never seen an angel, contained in these walls. 
Steve wasn't an overly religious man. But he had needed something- anything to believe in with the insanity that had managed to slither its way into his life, a snake with venom so poisonous he had found his way here again.
 It appears he had found something new, something else to believe in, he thought, watching your little frame stand at the end of the deep plush carpet that had guided his way towards you. 
The sunlight that filtered in through the stained glass windows shimmered around you like a halo, lighting up your features like the diamonds. It was mesmerizing, the way it shinned down upon you, focusing on you like a spotlight. 
Moving with you, as you tilted your head back, soaking in the dimmed rays that made their way through the images plastered on the glass. 
You looked up at the lanterns that hung upon chains from the high arched ceilings, the wooden beams their support as they flickered. 
“It’s beautiful, isn't it?” you hummed softly, feeling a presence near you, his aura dark and mysterious. 
Enchanting. 
Steve had found his way next to you, arm close enough to touch, warm body heat rolling off him in waves to wrap around your skin, soothing the goosebumps that had broken out across your arms. 
Steve was fixated on you- truly. 
Your voice had sounded like the sweet strings of a harp, being strummed in perfect harmony. He had wanted more. 
“It is.” he spoke softly, voice husky as he stared down at you. 
He didn't know you were talking about the marble statue that adorned the dais, arms reaching up towards heaven, as if that would save him from the tears that spilled across his pained face. 
Steve was talking about you. 
You turned, little white dress brushing against his thigh as you smiled. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you, your eyes twinkling like stars in the night, smile showing your little dimples in the hazy light. You were better than he had ever imagined, a sweet, innocent soul. 
One he wanted to corrupt. 
“ He looks in pain, in a way. Or sad. But it’s beautiful, when people cry.” you sighed, looking up at Steve in wonder. As if he was the angel who had flown in, had come and saved the day. 
“We’re all in pain, are we not? But many of us shape that pain into beauty.” he nodded, hand reaching up to wrap a finger around a stray curl that had draped across your cheekbone. 
You leaned into his gentle touch, though his hands were calloused. His hands were beautiful, as you could tell they had been in pain. They had carried weights they shouldn't have had to carry. You felt safe with Steve, despite his dark demeanour. 
He was soft with you. Gentle. 
“What’s your name?” he whispered, as if he was unsure if he should be asking. “Y/N.” you smiled, glancing back over to the altars, peering at the candles that continued to burn, wax dripping and spilling onto the tables. “I’m Steve.” 
A pretty name, for a pretty man… you thought. 
You had to focus on something, anything else but those blue orbs that threatened to swallow you whole. Or you’d drown. And you weren't so sure you’d want to be saved. 
“I’ve never seen you around before, angel.” 
Angel.
The name alone was enough to send shivers down your spine, despite the mugginess of the dry summer heat. “ The door was closed. I opened it. Now I’m here.” 
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Now I’m here. 
Those words rang through his head like the bell in the tower, striking at six. Twelve. Nine. Then six again. 
Somehow, through the endless amounts of prayers he had whispered to the universe, to the gods and goddesses, you had appeared. He had begged for salvation. 
You, it seemed, were just that. 
Steve saw you each time he slid through those old rustic wooden doors, standing in front of that very statue, by the burning candles and crosses. 
Almost as if you were waiting for him. 
It was never on a Sunday, but a Wednesday, an empty chapel day. The day of expression, and communication. Steve often would slide up behind you, as he did the very first meeting, intertwining your hand with his with a gentle squeeze. 
Some days he would tug you along, sliding into a pew with you to hold you closer, or he’d take you through the back way- to the overgrown gardens. Other days, it was the two of you staring at the stained glass, or the statues, in silence. 
You liked both days. You liked any days you could be with Steve. 
“You know I’m not even religious?” you had told him one day, stretching your legs in front of you from your seat on the wooden bench, flexing your feet. He had just raised his eyebrow. “Why were you here then angel?” Steve had asked as you toyed with his shirt. 
“I was following a little white cat, but he left before I could pick him up. He led me here. Then you showed up, so I stayed.” 
Steve had liked that answer. He had liked it a whole lot. 
Wednesday meetings had turned into Wednesday and Friday meetings. Then Saturday. Then Sunday. 
Those meetings had changed from the church’s grounds to little cafes and parks, old Hollywood cinemas and roller rinks. Those “meetings” had turned into dates. 
And one of the dates turned into Steve sweeping you up in his arms under the pale moonlight, pouring his very heart and soul into a kiss that left you dizzy. 
Now the two of you were here. 
Here, on his bed, the golden sunlight streaming down on Steve in rays, like they did in the chapel- showcasing the strands of rich honey in his beard. You were sleeping soundly on his chest, rising and falling with his breathing as he propped up against the headboard, petting your hair lovingly. 
Even in sleep, you clutched to him tightly, as if you were scared he’d leave you.
 Steve learned very early that your love language was touch. Innocent touches. 
Everything about you was innocent. 
You were attached to him at the hip, always holding him in some manner, or tending to him, whether that was playing with his hair or kissing his neck, leaving little smears of your lipgloss on his skin. 
Nothing more than that though. 
You had told him early on in the relationship you were a virgin, and you had wanted to take things slow, as you weren't used to getting attention- only giving it. Steve was completely fine with this of course, knowing your soul was much too innocent, too pure to be handled by anyone else. 
Steve wanted nothing more than to take care of you, to love and cherish you. But sometimes, his thoughts would turn south. He hated himself for it, he truly did. But how could he think clearly, with you looking like that? 
So beautiful, so innocent and carefree.
 Sliding his hand down, he slowly brushed your back, resting his hand gently on your ass, squeezing tenderly.
 “Mmm…” you stirred in your sleep, readjusting yourself as he chuckled. “Little steps for a little girl hmm?” he cooed, patting your flesh softly as his hand made its way back to your back, rubbing circles as he listened to your calm breathing, your body still deep in its slumber. 
He wanted to corrupt you. 
He wanted his darkness, his desires and needs to fill you to the brim, until you were spilling over with want and neediness. 
Little steps Steve. Little steps. 
“Don’t worry angel, we’ll get you all trained for me soon.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   It had started off on the couch, on a rainy Tuesday afternoon. You listened to the sound of the rain pattering down the windows blending with the vinyl that spun on the vintage player. 
Perched upon Steve's lap, you watched him intently, drumming your figures against his lean biceps, your nails giving him a soothing scratch. You looked so little, so fragile as he seated you on top of him, and he adored it. 
He was hesitant to do what he was about to do, but all logical thoughts left his brain as you peered up at him, doe eyes wide. 
“Can you open your mouth for me please angel?” he asked gently. You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 
Open your mouth? Why would he want you to open your mouth? 
He wasn't helping you brush your teeth, and he wasn't spooning ice cream between your plump lips. 
Despite this, you obeyed, mouth opening slightly. You listened to Steve, you knew that he knew what was best for you. He had reminded you time and time again, and you were thankful for it. Steve could sense your hesitation, watching you part your lips only slightly. 
“Good girl!” he smiled, seeing your cheeks flush, your thighs shifting as you squirmed in delight at the praise. 
He knew about it since the very first meeting, sensing your body language whenever he would compliment you, or praise you for your actions. 
God, he couldn't wait to tap into that even more. 
“Wider.. atta girl.” he cooed, slipping his two fingers past your parted lips, making your eyes widen in surprise. “Just trust me baby okay? You’re doing such a good, good job. Just suck on em, justttt like that.” he murmured, watching as you slowly relaxed your jaw, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked on his fingers like a pacifier. 
Your eyelids felt heavy as you sucked, swirling your tongue around his digits. It was relaxing, you realised. You didn't know why exactly he was making you do this, but you couldn't complain about how it was making you feel. 
“What a big girl eh? Doin it all by herself.” he smiled as you moved your hands to wrap around his wrist. He slid his fingers out with a soft pop!, watching the string of your saliva stick to his fingers from your lips. 
“Good girl angel. My beautiful angel.” he said, kissing your neck as you giggled, praising you until you were a squirming mess. 
Rewarding you. 
It became a daily routine, those little moments of serenity. Positive reinforcement- is what it was called, he discovered. Gifting you little rewards, things you liked whenever you did what he asked, so you’d do it more, and more.
 It worked, and it worked well. 
Pretty soon, you’d trot up to Steve at the same time everyday, perching up on his lap to take his fingers. He’d slowly push them deeper and deeper, so you’d be ready for him, on your knees. 
But not to pray. Never to pray. 
Steve tried it with other things, like calling him daddy. What you were supposed to be calling him. 
It had slipped out when the two of you were having a heated makeout session, his hand tangled in your hair as teeth and tongues clashed. “Stev-”
 “It’s Daddy to you angel. Only Daddy, mkay?” You had nodded slowly, bringing your hand up to touch your swollen lips. “Daddy?” He had just smiled. “Yes angel, daddy. Makes me so happy, when you call me that.” He slid his hands up your skirt, knuckles brushing your inner thighs, making you purr like a kitten.
 So far, his tactics had been working like a charm. You had been obeying him, trailing him around the house just for the small chance you’d be able to play with his large, veiny hands, or be able to wrap your arms around his torso and squeeze him like a teddy bear. 
You had even begun to call him daddy without even realising it, the name slipping out of your mouth as smooth as silk. Little did you know hard you made him each time, your little actions causing him to grind against you subtly. 
It was torture. The sin that littered his thoughts whenever you neared, whenever the sweet, sickly smell of your arousal clung to his skin, making it heat and burn. 
Steve needed release. He needed it now. 
You were already in a vulnerable state of mind at the time, the hour growing late, your body tired and limp. He watched you from his armchair in the corner of the bedroom, exhaling the cigarette smoke from between his lips, watching it vacate through the opened window as the curtains swayed gently in the cool night breeze. 
You watched him intently, legs clenching together at the sight of him manspreading, head lolled back against the soft velvet. “Can I have a drag?” you asked sweetly, shuffling up on your knees, the bed dipping slightly under your weight. 
“Little girls like you don't get cigs angel. They’re not good for you.” he chuckled, watching you pout. “But you get them!” you huffed. He tapped his smoke on the edge of the ash tray, letting the stray ash fall as he shifted up from his seat. 
He made his way across the room in two strides, sliding the cigarette between your parted lips. You inhaled deeply, smoke feeling your lungs, choking you. You coughed and spat as you exhaled, the smog burning your throat. 
“See? It’s yucky.” he smirked, putting out the but. “Why’d you let me then?” you asked, wincing at the stale taste. 
“Cause you gotta learn angel. When I tell you no, it means no. For good reason at that.” he laughed, flicking your nose with a smile. 
“Hmph.” you huffed, forgetting about the bitter taste as he lightly pushed you down upon the silk sheets, making your hair sprawl out around you. “You’re so beautiful angel.” he whispered, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing your bottom lip, tugging it down occasionally. 
“Yeah daddy?” you blushed, feeling your core heat at the praise, your body going taut under his touch as you shifted your thighs together for friction.
 It didn't go unnoticed by Steve. He smirked. 
“Yeah, angel. Such a beautiful, beautiful girl for me. My girl.” he emphasised, breath getting caught in his throat as you slipped his thumb in your mouth, sucking on it softly as you peered up at him innocently. 
“Wanna be your good girl.” you smiled, licking the saliva off his thumb as your hands came up to brush the hair that curled at the back of his neck, the strands soft as silk between your fingers. “You wanna be my good girl? Then can you answer something for me? Truthfully? You know daddy doesn't like lies.” 
You nodded, eyes wide. 
“Do you get those tingles around me angel? The ones you told me about earlier, the ones that make you feel all warm n fuzzy?” he cooed, biting his lip as you nodded, squirming under him. “Can you show daddy where?” 
You grabbed his hand, guiding it down to your quivering cunt, sliding it under the slip of your nightgown. “R’here daddy.” you whined, moaning as he tapped his two fingers against your clit.
 “Oh angel, you’re awfully wet. Is this all for me?” he tsked, grinning as you bucked your hips up into his touch, tugging his hair tighter. “S’all for you daddy…” 
“You gonna let daddy make it all better? S’not good for little girls like you to be gettin this all worked up.” he pouted, mock sympathy dripping from his words like acid. 
“Want you to fix it daddy, make me all better. Please?” you whispered, lapping up each drop of the stinging liquid that dripped from his tongue like a woman starved.
 “How could I say no to a pretty face like that?” he smiled, stroking your cheek, his hands tracing over the plains and valleys of your body, watching your breasts perk up, nipples pebbling from under the sheer white lace of your dress.
 “Mmm daddy whatta doin?” you asked timidly, curious to what the man above you was doing, his hands resting on your thighs. “Gonna make it all better angel. Now be a good girl and present to daddy, attaaa girl.” he cooed as you allowed him to spread your legs apart and flip your nightgown up, revealing your soaked panties to him. 
“Just a dumb lil baby arent you? I gotta do everything for you?” You shook your head, watching as he began to slide the flimsy fabric down, down, down past your thighs to the tips of your toes.
 “S’fine, you know I like takin care of you angel eyes. But tonight, I’m gonna take these-” He dangled the thong from his fingers, setting it down on the bedside table beside him. “And I’m goin stroke my cock with em, and you’re goin watch angel. Then, after daddys got his cream all over em, I’m gonna shove it between those pretty little lips of yours, okay?” 
You nodded, purely dumbfounded. This side of Steve, you had never seen before. Not that you were complaining- of course. You were just… new to this. 
Very new.
 “Yes daddy.”
 “Good girl angel. You’re never gonna leave this house unless you got my cum in your panties, gotta stuff you full of me allll the time.” he grinned, pupils blown as he took in your beautiful body, all splayed out for him. 
Like an angel. 
You whimpered as he took his fingers, running the digits across your slit, watching you clench around air as he teased you. “This is mine now, okay angel? My fuckhole. It’s daddys property now.” 
You moaned at his words alone, your head lolling against the sheets as he slid off his shirt, the dim glow of the candles making his chiselled abs gleam faintly. The sight had you sucking in air through your teeth, his muscles flexing as he bent your legs causing you to spiral.
 “Are we gonna do what we always do? With your fingers?” you begged, hiccuping as he patted your puffy folds tenderly with the palm of his hand. “Something so much better baby. You’re gonna love it so much, it’ll make the tingles feel all better. Daddys here now, takin care of you just like he should.”
 You watched as he unbuckled his belt, the jangle of it making you jump as he shrugged off his jeans and boxers, exposing his hard, aching cock to you. 
“ It's so big daddy!” you whispered, watching as he smirked in delight. “S’not gonna fit in there…” you trailed off, gasping as he rubbed his cock against your soaked folds, moaning as he tapped your clit firmly, his precum mixing with your juices. 
“Oh we’ll make it fit angel. How else is daddy supposed to take care of you hmm?” You whimpered, watching as he neared your entrance.
 “Daddy m’scared.” you confessed, gripping his bicep tightly, crescent moons forming across his soft, smooth skin as he ever so slowly pushed the tip in. 
“Shhh, shh that's a good girl. I know you’re scared angel but daddys here now, that's it honey.” he praised, slowly easing in, stretching you as you cried out. “You gotta relax for me angel, or else it won't feel good to you. And we don't want that do we? Daddy's little fucktoy needs to feel good.” he cooed, encouraging you to take deep, shaky breaths as you allowed him to fill you up, your walls hugging him like a glove.
 “Daddy s’big-” you cried, tears falling from your doe eyes, sliding down your flushed cheeks as he seating himself fully in you. 
“This is how it's gonna be from now on angel, I gotta keep you filled all the time. You gotta keep daddy nice and warm.” he teased, leaning down to brush a soft, tender kiss on your cheeks, lapping up the salty tears that lay there. 
“You’re doing so well for me baby. I’m so proud of you.” he whispered, tenderly kissing along your jaw as he slid out slowly, making you gasp. “Proud of me-e?” you asked, moaning as he thrusted slowly back into you, his hips picking up an easy rhythm as you threw your head back in pleasure. 
“So proud angel. Hey, hey eyes on me okay? I’m right here, I’m with you angel. We’re gonna go to heaven together, you and I.” 
“S’good daddy. Feels so good-d.” you hiccuped, the pain turning to pleasure as your legs trembled, muscles turning limp as he rocked into you, hissing at the way you’d clench around him tightly. 
“Told you I’d make you feel good angel eyes. D-daddy always knows.” his breath caught as your nails raked down his arms, tugging him even closer as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “Wanna fill you full, stuff you full of my cum. You want that angel?” 
“Yes oh gods!” you screamed, heavenly fire caressing and licking down your spine as your core churned, the feelings of pure pleasure overwhelming your senses.
 “Cum for me angel. Cum for daddy.” he whispered, voice husky in your ear, echoing off the walls as you wailed his name in bliss. 
You shattered under him, the pieces of you snapping off with each thrust, glistening on the sheets like broken glass. It was heaven, the way he made you feel. Your orgasm escaped you with a gentle tug, your vision turning starry as Steve’s hips shuttered. 
“Fuck angel… look attcha, milkin me dry.” he cooed, watching your juices squirt on his cock, coating him. “Daddy need you-” you moaned, screaming as his grip harshened, a final thrust before he came with a grunt of your name, followed by endless praises. 
“Oh angel, my sweet angel…” he whispered, watching your body shake and squirm under him, your breath coming in short little gasps from the stimulation your body just endured. 
He was so proud of you. So proud of his little girl for taking him all, for pleasing him. 
“We’re gonna get you on your knees soon honey okay? Just like mass.”
5K notes · View notes
unholyhelbig · 3 months
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im in love with werewolf!kate
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Title: Once Bitten, Twice the Idiot [5/?]
Summary: After reader is attacked by a strange animal in the woods, her world is flipped upside down. Now she must navigate a new life filled with strangers and myths.
Trigger warnings: Talk about werewolf transformations, crying, group interventions [?], and definate spelling/grammar mistakes
[Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five]
Main Masterlist | Ao3 | Request Prompts
The compound seemed impersonal upon your second visit. It was nothing compared to the shitty apartment you had left earlier in the day. There were leaky ceilings and college students that would blast their music until dawn- but it had been home. It had been home, and this was anything but. This was an overwhelming smattering of scents that aggravated your already tepid nerves.
Without Kate close by panic began to bubble up in your stomach. Then anger. That anger that she had mentioned outside of your building was there too and though you didn’t want to admit it, you had to. Kate Bishop had ruined your life and the fact that you sought her out so heavily filled you with white hot rage. So why did you need her so badly?
In an attempt to ease your nerves, they had separated the two of you two seconds after you’d walked back through the doors. Word seemed to travel fast around here, and you took a mental note to keep your mouth shut in all situations. It had been over an hour since Kate was dragged away by Clint and that ache in your chest grew malicious.
“There’s an electrically charged fence around the bulk of the property but it’s 165 acres of pure natural land. There’s a lot of space to run, but there’s not much way to escape.” Wanda Maximoff explained things to you like a recipe.
She had taken you on the grand tour, though the house was mostly cleared out. It was clear that they were trying not to scare you. There was an array of smells, and each was distinct, though it was behind closed doors. There was an in-house gym and a myriad of offices and bedrooms on the second floor. There was a library too, one that had more books than the location on campus.
Wanda seemed like the best choice to give you the grand tour. Though, you had yet to meet more than Clint and Natasha, and a few others distantly. There had to be a reason that she was the one easing you into this. She smelled of cinnamon and that sharp metal scent that seemed to accompany them all.
You now.
You had stopped walking in the middle of the lush green yard. In turn, so had she. Her gaze was on you and sympathetic. There was a buzz to the fence, one that you could hear from the spot that you were rooted in. Leaves rustled and small critters made noises that you were not supposed to hear, but you could.
“Not much?” You let out a burning breath that you had been holding in. “Pardon me for being rude, but if it’s so secure how did Kate… get out?”
Wanda swallowed hard and closed the distance between you. She had a pitying look in her stare that somehow didn’t enrage you. Instead, it reminded you of your mother. Of course, she’d been the right choice. You could see that a mile away.
“Kate is an extremely powerful and reckless individual. She has an incredible amount of heart but sometimes that gets her in trouble. When you change, and you will change, you’ll understand the yearning a bit more. Usually, your wolf will be satiated with just feeling free- hence all the land. But sometimes there is an emotion so strong that there is no option other than to obey.”
“There’s an emotion strong enough to make her break through an electric fence and attack me?”
She snorted out a laugh, glancing up at the fading blue of the sky. There was a stronger chill to the air as the sun dipped behind the horizon. A fishbone moon was hanging in the air. It was never something that you paid much attention to before. But you were quite thankful that it wasn’t full. That wasn’t something you could handle anytime soon.
“Y/n, did Natasha mention that the two of us are together?”
“No, she didn’t.” You frowned, testing the waters “You’re so… and she’s so…”
“Oh, she’s an absolute hard ass. I’m well aware. She’d dumped her coffee all over the front of my shirt when we first met and apologized by paying for a new one. Natasha wrote her number on the side and wee dated for nearly a year before she told me her secret.”
The two of you started walking again, this time along a carved path that rested at the mouth of the backyard. Soon the grass devolved into underbrush and large stretching oak trees. Gravel crunched under the soles of your shoes. The rage shifted it’s way back into the small of your mind.
“I was taken aback, understandably. The woman I had fallen in love with sat me down and when I thought she was going to break up with me she told me she was a mythical creature instead. And I was mad. I thought she was lying and making excuses instead of being honest.”
Wanda let out a shaky sigh, one that was wracked with memories of what seemed to be a simpler time. There was a fondness in her stare that you craved in a selfish way. Because you wanted to feel that fondness for Kate, but it hadn’t quite bubbled to the surface yet.
“For almost a month, I didn’t speak to her. But on the night of the full moon, my curiosity got the better of me and I showed up at her house unprompted. It took some convincing. Natasha isn’t one for vulnerability, especially when that vulnerability is something that could cause me physical harm but I’m persistent.”
“You uh, I don’t know the terminology” there was a pause “you watched her become…”
“I did. And I’m not going to sugar coat this for you because it is not a pretty sight, and it is far from painless. But I believed her. Finally, I believed her and though I wanted to run there was a moment between the bones breaking and the screaming, where that honesty seeped out of Natasha like blood. I was her one. I was her person.”
Wanda laughed and shook her head. You’d made it a good way through the path and the sun had fully set behind the horizon, but it didn’t impair your vision one bit. You could see just the same, everything having a gray fuzzy tinge to it.
“Subconsciously, there is a pull in what we are. Natasha told me she knew I was her destiny when she spilled a caramel macchiato on me. And I love her, but I didn’t know just how strong that feeling was until I made the decision to change. To let her change me.”
“You willingly chose this?”
The question had slipped past your lips before you could stop it and you immediately felt guilty about the phrasing. Wanda reached and squeezed your palm with the coolness of her fingers. Comfort shot up your elbow and your shoulder until you felt all the warmth in the world.
“I did. It took a lot of conversation, a lot of planning but I was sure that Natasha was the only one and she was equally sure about me. So yes, I chose. And I am truly sorry that that liberty was stripped from you.” She gave your hand another squeeze. “The wolf that’s inside of you, that primal side is what took Kate over. It’s no excuse, her young naivety isn’t an excuse. But I know you feel it, and what you’re feeling right now is only a fraction of what she felt that night.”
That burning sensation in the pit of your stomach was utterly unbearable. It hadn’t gone away since Kate had bitten you. Not when you shoved cold lasagna into your mouth or swallowed three glasses of water. Nothing dulled the pain except your proximity to Kate.
“You’re saying that we’re destined to be together?” You scoffed, breath forming in a cloud.
“That’s for the two of you to decide.”
Wanda stopped in the middle of the path. She grasped your other hand and her solemn energy crept through her touch almost as if she transferred it directly to you. That burning ache in your stomach threatened to calm.
“This is a lot to take in, leaving everything behind and being thrown into the deep end of a world you don’t understand. But I am here for you and Clint is here for you, and so is Bruce and Peter. All four of us… all four of us were ushered into this life instead of born into it. Some by choice and some by chance. And regardless of how we got here, we know the struggle that it carries. We’re here, y/n.”
The room that was given to you was set up in the same beige colors as the rest of the house. Wanda had the same kindness that she seemed to always exude as she explained that you could paint and decorate however you wanted. It was yours, and despite this being a fancy prison, you could always make it feel a little less like a prison.
It was when you were left with your thoughts, did you become wracked with discomfort. The house was mostly silent. Wanda had explained to you the purposeful thickness of the walls. They were meant to dull sounds and form privacy. That- you were thankful for.
There were minimal scents in here and if you tried hard enough, you knew that you could relax. As long as you didn’t think about the fact that you had given up your scholarship, and your life with your friends and your family and your heart was pounding unforgivably in your chest until you were forced to sit up on the wrinkled comforter.  
It took a few moments before you realized that someone was knocking on the door. You stood, opening it despite your better judgement. Maybe it would be Wanda with her soothing nature again, or even Natasha to slap some sense into you.
Instead, it was Kate Bishop. She looked like a kicked puppy, her stormy gray stare boring into yours with enough apologies to last a lifetime. But you didn’t want to hear it. Not at the moment and probably not for the foreseeable future.
Though, you had to admit, everything seemed to simmer down with her familiar clove scent. Her hands were in the pockets of her pajama pants, and she held up a brown bag filled with fast food. The grease had soaked through the paper in dark splotches.
You hadn’t eaten since yesterday and embarrassingly, your stomach growled in response. It gave you away. Whatever was in that bag smelled absolutely divine. Kate tried to stifle the smirk on her lips in a comical expression. She had won.
The door opened wider as you stepped aside. “I know we talked about Italian on the bus ride over here, but the only place within sixty miles is a burger joint and I’m helpless in the kitchen.”
“This is perfect. Thank you, Kate.”
The two of you sat on the floor close to the double windows that led to a small balcony. At first, you were tempted to pull the curtains in front of them. It was easier to ignore the eyes that stared back in the reflection. Your own eyes but something different and carnal about them that you weren’t ready to confront.
Kate had supplied you with one of the messiest cheeseburgers that you had ever eaten and a basket of equally as damp fries. It was the best thing you had ever tasted. You were admittedly starving and had been since the moment you woke up.
“God, this is,” you used your thumb to wipe a bit of ketchup “This is good. Not enough to forgive you yet good, but fucking delicious.”
She cleared her throat “I didn’t expect one burger to get me in your good graces. But I figured you were hungry. It’s been a big couple of days.”
“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘I’m sorry’, don’t you dare ruin the bliss this burger brings me.”
She laughed, a beautiful sound. Kate moved from her spot on the floor to one that was next to you. She still gave you distance, a good couple of inches. Her back was against the side of the bed and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments.
Your reflections were distorted. Between you rested the moon. The real moon that you had noticed outside with Wanda. It was brighter than it had been, or maybe you were just closer. It’s pale light vibrated against your skin and filled you with a tingling sensation.
It wasn’t fondness exactly. It was like pulling a cozy blanket around you and basking in it’s effects. Like the room around you is cold, frost creeping up the windows, and the only solace is that small piece of fabric. The moon warmed you. You wanted to swim in it.
“How long do I have?” You whispered; Kate scrunched up her face into a half-frown. She looked at you. “Wanda told me about the first time she saw Natasha change. She wouldn’t go into details, and I don’t blame her. But it sounded… painful.”
Kate crossed her legs and picked at the fuzz on her socks. She successfully plucked two balls of lint off the pattern before she spoke. “My family is rich. It’s uh, it’s generational. They’ve always had the best in everything. The biggest homes, the fanciest clothes, the best cars. The strongest cellars.”
You weren’t quite sure where she was going with this. Part of you stifled your anger. You had worked your ass off through high school to just get the vague chance of a college education. All of that was shattered because of the girl next to you. All of that was something that you were starting to understand. That dull ache was thrumming in the pit of your stomach, ever eased by Kate’s presence.
“I’m sticking my foot in my mouth. None of that matters. Growing up with generations of lycanthropy and having it treated like a prize. It’s disjointing. My father believed that that pain made you stronger, and that embracing that rage instead of commuting it was the way to go. And I thought the same until I met Clint.”
Kate let out a wavering breath. She played with the rings on her fingers, twirling them around until there was a little red mark on her skin. It seemed to dissipate just as soon as it had appeared.
“I was thirteen the first time that I turned. And I begged, pleaded with everyone around me to do something, anything, that would ease the agony of that first transformation. I was met with the silent treatment. And… I was a child. I was a scared child that wanted comfort.”
You reached forward and placed a hand on her knee. There was an electricity that flowed through the both of you, a specific energy that buzzed in the same way it had with Wanda, but different somehow. Stronger and all-consuming. She placed her hand on top of yours.
“The night of the full moon, my father locked me in one of those strong cellars. There was no light, no comfort. Nothing but a musty prison that had a small window out of reach. It was just big enough to let in the moonlight. The walls, they were torn up and bloody. It was all I could smell and think about.”
Kate paused to pull in another breath. “For years, I was convinced that was the only way to do things. Embrace the pain and let it harden you. But things are done differently here, y/n. It’s not going to be easy, but you’re not going to be alone. You won’t be locked in a cellar to feel that pain. And I have no quarrels if you don’t want me there-“
“Kate,” you interrupted her, “I want you there. Because despite everything, your presence is reassuring and I think that’s what I’m going to need.”
She gave you a sad smile, yet somehow it was still endearing. There was an exhaustion that settled over you in the same moment. Your stomach was full, and your eyes were feeling heavy. Tentatively, you rested your head against her shoulder, embracing her scent and her comfort.
For a half a second, she tensed but melted just as you had. The silence was far from uncomfortable and you drifted into her protection, dropping into sleep with the sound of her heartbeat in tandem with your own.
The living room, despite it’s size, was filled to the brink with people that all turned their eyes to you upon arrival. You knew that this was coming, the introduction phase. It reminded you of college orientation without the stifling June heat that made it impossible to pull in a proper breath.
You still couldn’t draw in one correctly, not with this many eyes and this many smells. It was like ripping a band aid off and you were incredibly thankful that they had let you get a full nights sleep before springing this on you.
At some point, you had crashed on Kate’s shoulder on the plush carpet of your room. She’d moved you to the bed and you woke up there alone but well rested. It took you a few moments to gather yourself and shove the sadness of leaving your life to the back of your mind. There were things to do, people to meet.
Kate was next to you. She leaned on the edge of the closest sofa and let you take in everything- everyone- that lingered. One man stood at the forefront of it all. He was massive, well built in a way that his strength commanded the attention of the room. There was a kindness in his stare too, one that you admittedly admired right off the bat.
“Hello,” he said it so simply, reaching his massive hand out “I’m Steve.”
“Y/n” You took his hand and shook it timidly.
Steve glanced at the waiting faces around the room. Each one watched with bated breath for him to speak. You even found yourself entrapped by his mere stance. “Everyone, y/n is going to be staying with us for the foreseeable future. This is a situation that we have yet to encounter, and I expect each and every one of you to treat it with the respect and care it deserves.”
There were a few faces that you didn’t recognize, but they seemed to accept the decree. Kate’s hand found its way to the small of your back out of view of the others. It steadied you, though you didn’t know you were unsteady in the first place.
It was explained to you that you were quite the exception to the house. Wanda was clear about how this group had formed and nowhere was it stated that someone who had never turned before was here. Each and every person had a solid grip on who they were- what they were.
“Should we play an ice breaker?” A man that was spread across most of the middle seat on the section asked. He had darkened eyes, black hair that was spiked with an obscene amount of gel. “Two truths and a lie?”
Natasha smirked wolfishly “I like this game; Tony Stark is a humungous ass, Tony Stark is so full of himself he has six mirrors in his room, and Tony Stark wears sunglasses inside like a douche.”
“Second one is the lie; I have eight mirrors in my room and each and every one of them is necessary.”
You pursed your lips to stop the smile from spreading across your face. Natasha tossed a throw pillow and nailed him in the face. He shifted it into his lap, settling there with an eyeroll. Your view was blocked by a man that towered over you.
Steve was big. Tony was big. Clint was big. But this man was an absolute giant. He radiated a warmth that was unmatched and crunched you into a hug. Your cheek was pressed against his chest, and you gave it a pat.
“Don’t suffocate her,” Kate urged gently.
“My apologies Katie” He pulled back, keeping his massive hands on both of your shoulders “I’m Thor, you know, like the God of Thunder.”
“It fits,” You said with a smile.
There was a level of trust about him. Maybe it was his sheer size, or maybe it was his beaming smile that was nothing but genuine. He eased you more than most in the room. When he stepped aside, you were met with the last stranger in the room.
A man that seemed to draw within himself but still shook your hand with a practiced confidence. His button-down was wrinkled, his hair messy. He wore these thick rimmed glasses that enhanced his stare. There was a gentleness about him, a timidness.
“Bruce Banner, it’s great to meet you, y/n.”
They fit together like a family. All of these strangers that each had their individual quirks but were more than comfortable longing around, just existing in the same area. They’d all come from different backgrounds and chose to linger in this large house. They chose to be a group. A unit. A pack.
For a long time, America was the only one that was in your life, the only constant. Your parents were in the background; one worked too much and the other drank too much and neither cared all that much. Watching the way these strangers interacted, the community they created for themselves, made you feel like maybe it would be okay. Maybe all of this would be okay.
Steve cleared his throat and the room stilled, all eyes leading back to him. He scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable with the attention for only a millisecond before he smoothed back into himself. “The full moon is in two weeks’ time. We know the drill, but y/n doesn’t. It’s going to be difficult and different, and we’re going to have to prepare.”
“I have drugs,” Yelena said. There was a silence that shrouded the room as everyone blinked dumbly at the woman. “What? Not anything heavy. But enough to sedate her!”
“We are not sedating her, we’ve been through this” Clint responded.
They’d spoken about this? Truthfully, from the accounts you had gotten from Kate and Wanda, you would be more than happy to take something to knock you out. Though it seemed important to feel the pain too. Almost like a right of passage.
“That is y/n’s decision to make.” Bruce said. He addressed you, making you feel less like an observer to your own fate. “One that you don’t have to make right now, might I add.”
Steve held his hand up, quieting everyone once more. “There are natural ways of doing things too. And trust us, y/n, we will break down every single option you have until you find a comfortable solution to the predicament. Don’t be afraid to ask questions.”
Your tongue was tied at the prospect, and soon the meeting was dismissed. They were weekly, you learned, and part of you didn’t mind. A house this size with that many people could get messy quickly without some sort of pecking order.
The library on the second floor was home to bound leather books that recounted the history of lycanthropy. It was warm up there, large windows letting in enough sunlight to show the particles of dust as they float in the air.
Not many people use this place. It was kept tidy but the scent that hung in the air was mainly aged paper and wood polish. You’d pulled one of the leather books from the shelf and curled up in the window seat. The pages were yellowed and brittle but filled with invaluable information.
This was the first moment in the last few days where your mind felt quiet. Your world was quiet.
Hours passed as you worked your way through literature, through Norse mythology of a curse, and pelts that would let men roam the countryside as wolves until they gained their lucidity again. There were diary entries from families that were descended from lunacy; the Bishops and Rodgers and Odinson’s and many more that you could not recognize.
You’d made it through two and half books before the light bouncing off the pages shifted to a vibrant orange of the sunset. You’d been left to your own devices for the day, and you rubbed your eyes, tired from the constant strain.
There was a quiet knock at the door and the scent of turkey filled your lungs. You blinked a few times. Steve leaned against the doorframe, holding a plate filled with a pile of potato chips and a sandwich. You’d again, forgotten to eat.
“I come in peace,” He said, entering the room and setting the plate of food on the table in the center of the room. He gestured to the other end of the window seat. “May I?”
You nodded, pulling your feet back and tucking them under yourself. “This is the second time in the last twenty-four hours that I’ve been bribed with food.”
 “It’s a love language around here. Learn anything interesting?”
“That a lot of werewolves are French and it’s much easier to be a one in the twenty first century.”
He chuckled and the sound was nice. It made sense that he was in charge. Being around him made things feel like they were solvable. The many answers floating around in your mind, the fears, could center into one concrete thing.
“The French gave us a bad name, I’m afraid. But you’re right about the second part. I wasn’t lying when I said that there are multiple ways to go about this.”
“Like drugs?”
“That’s one option, yes. Clint told me that one of the first things you were concerned about was keeping everyone around you safe.”
You nodded, pulling your legs up to your chest and resting your chin against them. The only reason you had gone along with all of this was to keep the people you love safe. That combined with the deep seeded feeling that all of this was real had lured you here, had kept you here.
“I’m trying not to be angry.” You admitted in a small, weak voice. “There is this deep rage that I could blame on whatever emotional distress these books outline. But nothing will change the fact that one minute I had a chemistry quiz due at midnight and the next I was waking up in a filth of rotted leaves and my own blood. And the only thing I can think about is that I have every right to hate her but I… I can’t.”
Steve was patient, silent in his ministrations. He turned a gold band on his ring finger around and around, much like Kate had. It was a nervous habit, something that soothed him, you supposed.
“I have always been able to handle anything that’s thrown at me. Always. Life has a mass of problems and those problems can be solved but this doesn’t feel real. It won’t feel real until I’m there but I’m- I’m scared. I’m so scared.”
You tried to smother the bloom of emotions in your chest, but it wasn’t working. There was an immense shame in cracking in front of Steve that you couldn’t quite explain but he seemed to have no quarrels about your tears or wiping them away with a calloused hand.
“This shouldn’t have happened.” He said with a shaky breath “And you have every right to be angry. I would be angry. No one expects you to forgive and we certainly don’t expect you to forget. What’s happened is unfair. But we can ease that fear.”
You swallowed hard, throat dry “how?”
“Well, drugs” He gave you a weak smile, and you snorted out a laugh. “But if we want to do things old school, that’s possible. It’s recommended, really. This place is built for people like us, and even though right now it feels like a curse, like a burden, maybe fate intervened.”
Your head thud softly against the bookcase behind you, “Fate carries the last name Bishop.”
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katethewriter · 1 year
Text
Kinda Like You
from the New Kid series
Summary: Natasha and New Kid find they have much more in common than they originally believed.
Words: 3.5k~
Pairing: Natasha x little!Reader - Wanda x little!Reader - Wandanat x little!Reader(platonic) - Steve Rogers x Reader(platonic) - WandaNat - Wanda x Natasha
Warnings: mentions of child abuse, neglect, abandonment, tough love from Steve, misguided frustrations
A/N: Who wants to learn more about New Kid's past? Well, that's what we're doing today! This chapter is very dialogue heavy, but they are information sharing so enjoy!
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“Pick your battles New Kid,” Steve calls from the side of the mat.
Y/n and Peter have been sparring for the past twenty minutes under the watchful eyes of Captain America while a few others filtered in and out. Currently, Natasha and Tony stand nearby, observing quietly as the 12 and 15 year old fight.
Y/n struggles to break out of the hold that Peter has caught her in.
“Tap out, Y/n. If you had followed through with your swing, he wouldn’t have caught you in the first place,” Steve chastises, “yield and reset.”
 With a huff, Y/n taps Peter’s arm, and he releases her. The pair turn to face each other and go again.
The girl lunges for Peter. He is able to quickly dodge the attack and circle her. Before she can react, he has her in another hold. She does her best, but knows she is unable to break free. With a glance to the side, she spots Natasha and Tony whispering to each other. Skepticism clear in their faces.  
Y/n sighs and taps out again.
“You always have to be thinking about the next move,” Steve walks onto the mat, “expect he will dodge, be prepared and plan for it.” He looks at Peter and nods his head to the side of the mat. The teen walks off, leaving the super soldier and New Kid in the center of the mat. “Reset.”
The girl prepares to fight her instructor, taking a deep breath to focus before the fight.
Steve attacks first, swinging for Y/n’s shoulder. The girl ducks below his arm. As he steps through the swing, she circles him and lands a kick to his back. She reaches for his arm to twist it behind his back, but he turns. With a swipe of his leg, New Kid’s back hits the mat roughly. She grimaces at the pain coursing through her.
“Always watch your feet.”
Suddenly, a scoff can be heard from the other side of the room.
Y/n turns to see Natasha’s stern look and pursed lips. They lock eyes for only a moment before the red head shakes her head and turns to the door. Steve helps the girl to her feet, and she continues to watch the widow leave the gym.
Natasha hates her. She has to. Y/n’s sure of it. Every time the widow watches her train ends this way, with a look of disapproval and a fast exit.
 Actually, that is how many of their interactions end.
Natasha walks in while 12-year-old Y/n is learning mission tactics, she exits quickly.
The widow is dismantling a sniper when New Kid is given a tour of the weaponry. She can’t be more than 10. Natasha doesn’t even spare her a glance as she finishes her task.
She passes her in the gun range, she clenches her jaw and leaves silently with a full magazine.
It seems the only time Natasha can stand to be in the same room as New Kid is at mealtimes.
Y/n watches as the gym doors slide closed behind the retreating red head. She wonders what she did to make the woman hate her so and if there was anything she could do to fix it.
Suddenly an arm is entering her vision rapidly. She ducks just in time to miss Steve’s swing.
“Never take your eyes off your opponent.”
🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸
Wanda trails kisses from Natasha’s shoulder to her neck.
“Hey,” the widow chuckles and pulls away slightly, “I am trying to watch the movie.”
The two have been curled up in Wanda’s bed watching movies all day. They’ve been together for over a year, and they’ve learned to savor the little moments they are able to hide from the rest of the world.
Wanda pauses her kisses briefly, “oh come on, you’ve seen this movie a hundred times.”
“Then why did you pick it?” she asks incredulously.
“Because you’ve seen it a hundred times,” the cheeky Sokovian responds leaning up to press her lips to the Russian’s. This time, Natasha doesn’t pull away. She deepens the kiss as the movie goes forgotten.
They lay there, kissing gently, just happy to be in each other’s arms.
…..then there’s a knock on the door.
“Ignore it,” Natasha says quickly before continuing the kiss.
Wanda shakes her head and pulls away, “I can’t. It’s Y/n; she needs something.”
The widow furrows her brows, “how do you know?”
“Her little thoughts are very loud,” the witch smiles, “I can hear them whether I’m trying to or not.”
Wanda rolls out of the bed, and Natasha groans. She pauses the movie, while the younger woman opens the door to greet little Y/n.
From the hallway, Y/n looks up to Wanda with a small smile.
The witch crinkles her nose with a grin and lowers herself to be closer to eyelevel with the girl. “Why hello, sweet girl! To what do I owe this pleasure?” She ends the question with a gentle boop on the girl’s nose.
“Can you help me put this on?” Y/n asks quietly, holding a dress out to display, “I can’t reach the buttons.” She looks down sadly, trying to hide her gaze from the witch.
Wanda quickly lifts the girl’s chin, so she is looking at her again, “hey, it’s always ok to ask for help, mala(little one). I’d love to help you.”
She stands and opens the door further for Y/n to enter. They only make it three steps into the room before the girl spots Natasha sitting on the bed.
Y/n stands still under Natasha’s gaze. Obviously, she has interrupted something. She shouldn’t be here. She can’t ask for help in front of Natasha. Not when it is very clear that the assassin already doesn’t like her. She is overcome with a large wave of nervousness.
From the bed, Natasha watches Wanda welcome New Kid into the room. The sight of her hits the widow like a truck. It’s the youngest Natasha has ever seen Y/n drop.
Natasha smiles to the girl, “Hey New Kid.”
“Hi,” Y/n shifts on her feet uncomfortably, then looks up to Wanda.
The Sokovian smiles and ushers her to her connected bathroom. “Here,” she takes the child’s hand, “lets go in here to get you changed.”
The two of them slip into the bathroom leaving Natasha alone in the bedroom while Wanda helps Y/n change out of her current clothes and into the dress.
All alone, Natasha tries to think of why seeing Y/n had such an impact on her.
The girl looked to be about 6, definitely the youngest Natasha has ever seen her drop. After a minute of thinking it suddenly makes sense.
She reminds her of Yelena.
The bathroom door opens. The pair reenter the room and sure enough, Y/n looks about (if not exactly) the same age as her sister was right before they left Ohio.
The nostalgia brings a lump to Natasha’s throat. She’s able to fight it back, but that proved difficult. When she looks at the girl in front of her, all she can see is her sister. The sister she never saw again.
“Wow! I love your dress!” the redhead beams, “where’d you get a dress that pretty?”
Y/n stands shyly with her folded clothes in her arms, “Clint gave it to me.” Quickly, the little girl thanks Wanda and makes an escape from the room and the gaze of Natasha.
She’s gone before either of them can say anything.
“What happened?” Natasha asks.
Wanda can only shrug.
🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸
“You should go ask Y/n if she wants to watch with us,” Wanda says from her spot on the couch.
Team movie night would be starting in about 30 minutes. Wanda always liked to be the first one there, so she could claim the “cuddliest couch” before anyone else. It also heightens her chances of being first to pick the movie.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Natasha looks at her girlfriend skeptically, “the movies we typically watch aren’t exactly age appropriate. We don’t want to give the kid nightmares.”
Wanda swipes the remote off the coffee table and smirks, “that’s why I will be picking the first movie. Besides, she’s not that little right now. Her thoughts aren’t loud enough.”
The widow sighs, “Why don’t you go get her? I’ll save your seat. She’ll most likely say yes to you. She’s scared of me.”
“She’s not scared of you-“
“We both saw how she was yesterday,” Natasha states, “she froze when I said hello. She’s terrified of me.”
Wanda reaches for her girlfriend’s hand, “she’s just timid and unsure. Once she warms up to you, you’ll see. She’s the sweetest kid. You just got to coax her out of her shell.” She kisses Natasha’s hand before pointing to the door.
“Go, it’ll be good for both of you.”
Natasha makes her way down the hallway until she reaches Y/n’s door. She knocks, but never gets a reply. After a minute, she knocks again, but still hears nothing.
She presses her ear to the door. A sniffle and a whimper float through the air. The widow pushes open the door and taps lightly, “Y/n?” She calls softly not to scare the girl. “You alright?” She pauses to wait for a response. “I’m coming in, ok?”
Natasha takes a cautious step into the room, and she has to pause for a second.
 Aside from the array of clothing Clint had given the girl, there is no sign that a child lives in this room. Maybe Y/n prefers it, but it just reminds Natasha of how she grew up in a place where she was punished for being a kid. Every child should have at least some toys, even one who turns back into an adult.
Natasha follows the sniffles that lead her to the bathroom door. “I can hear you crying. Is there something wrong?”
“Something I could help you with?” Natasha taps on the closed door, and it gives under the pressure.
The door slowly swings open and reveals Y/n standing in front of the mirror with red eyes and a brush in her hand. Her hair is tangled into a large mat near the back of her head. The look on Y/n’s face is all Natasha needs to know the poor thing has been trying to brush it out for who knows how long.
The girl sniffles, “I took a nap, and it was like this when I woke up.” Her lip quivers, “it won’t come out.”
The older woman smiles lightly, “may I?” She holds out her hand for the brush. The girl sighs defeatedly and relinquishes the brush. Natasha places her hands on the girl’s shoulders and squeezes comfortingly. She smiles to Y/n through the mirror and begins to silently brush her hair.
Its quiet again. The only sound passing between them is the brush gently dragging through Y/n’s hair.
Y/n looks into the mirror, watching the older woman intently. She feels small, smaller than she is now. Maybe it’s the widow’s intent focus on her hair or her gentle touch or the complete contrast to the woman’s previous demeanor around her, but whatever it is makes Y/n have to fight the urge to drop younger.
She was 7 when she took her nap, and 13 when she woke up in this dilemma. With how she’s feeling right now, there is no way she would be able to pick how small she dropped. So she just fights it until it fades.
Natasha’s soft touch is comforting her more and more with every pass of the brush. It soothes Y/n enough that she can break the silence.
“Why are you helping me?”
The older woman briefly connects eyes with Y/n through the mirror. She smiles and looks back to her work, “because we’re teammates. Teammates help each other.”
The girl chews on her lip, “but you don’t like me.”
Natasha comes to a complete halt, and she looks to Y/n again. Her face is mixed with confusion and concern, “that’s not true, myshka(little mouse). Why do you think that?” She places her hands on the girl’s shoulders in a way she hopes in comforting.
It does comfort Y/n some, but she still feels nervous to answer her. She knows she will have to eventually, so she might as well get it over with. “You don’t want me to be here. You’re always mad to see me.”
Natasha’s face floods with more confusion.
“You always leave whenever I’m around, like when I’m training, and I lose or when you see me in my lessons, especially weapons you get mad….” Y/n pauses looking up to Natasha with big doe eyes, “did I do something wrong?”
“No,” the widow quickly answers, “no myshka(little mouse), you haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Then why do you hate being around me?”
Natasha sighs and continues brushing out the tangles in Y/n’s hair. She understands why the little girl thinks what she thinks, and she knows why she is wrong. The misunderstanding is entirely her fault. She’s just not sure how to explain it to the girl.
She takes a deep breath to center her thoughts, “I don’t hate being around you. Sometimes I just get upset because you just remind me of my past.” She smiles sadly to the girl through the mirror. “I don’t know how much they’ve told you about me, but I grew up in a place that was not very good.”
“The Red Room,” Y/n states.
Natasha nods, “yes, that’s right. The Red Room was a very bad place. They took little girls from their families and trained them to be killers. They made us learn how to fight, how to follow someone, how to shoot, how to do all of it without being seen…. They even… they made us…they made us fight and kill each other.”
Once the widow is sure there are no more tangles in the girl’s hair, she parts it down the middle and begins braiding to keep her hands busy as she continues.
“I left that place because it turned little girls into weapons. I wanted to join a team that was actually trying to do good. Then I see cute little you training just like we did in the Red Room. The reason I get upset is because it makes me think that we’re no better than them.”
Natasha smiles into the mirror catching little eyes with her own, “that’s why I acted that way. It’s not your fault, myshka(little mouse). I’m so sorry I made you feel like it was or that I didn’t want you here.” She continues her braiding, “I think you’re gonna be good member of this team, once we get you ready.”
Y/n watches Natasha intently while she thinks of what to say, “you and me are kinda the same.”
Though she doesn’t look up from her braiding, the older woman is intrigued by the girl’s comment, “what do you mean?”
“I came from a bad place too,” Y/n explains, “now I’m here, so I can help people.”
“Where are you from?”
“Upstate,” the girl answers matter of factly. She’s not sure how much of her story she should tell. She trusts Natasha, especially after she just spoke of her own childhood. On the other hand, no one knows about how the girl grew up, not even Fury.
 Natasha hums, asking Y/n to continue.
“I was engineered,” the girl says as if she is saying ‘the sky is blue’.
The widow freezes, looking up to the girl in shock, “what?”
Y/n suddenly feels small again, but still she continues, “I was engineered in a test tube. Then I was transferred to an artificial womb until I was developed enough to live on my own.”
She twiddles her thumbs, unable to look up at the widow, “They were trying to make a shape shifter like you all thought I was. They tried to alter my DNA, but whatever they did, I think they did it too late. I already had too many cells with my normal DNA. I think that’s why I can only go back. All of me can shift except the cells that came from the ones from my conception.”
Hearing Y/n speak so maturely when she appears barely 13 throws Natasha for a bit. She has to remind herself that Y/n still has an adult brain in there.
“They kept me in their lab,” Y/n continues, “they would do these experiments on me. They would hurt sometimes, a lot of times. They kept trying to figure out where they went wrong. They were trying to fix me.”
Natasha clenches her jaw. She feels a rage she hasn’t felt in a very long time, and she makes a promise to herself that she will never let anyone harm this girl again.
The girl can sense the anger in the older woman, and it has her shrinking in on herself. “Are you mad?”
“Very.”
A breath catches in Y/n’s throat, and Natasha’s thoughts are pulled out of her anger to take in the girl in front of her. The fearful look has returned to Y/n’s face again. The widow kicks herself mentally.
“but not at you,” she reaches a hand out to pick up the girl’s chin, “myshka(little mouse), look at me please. I’m not mad at you. I promise.” She waits quietly until Y/n nods. Natasha smiles warmly, “Good girl. Now, I need you to tell me who had you? What agency?”
Y/n shakes her head, “there wasn’t an agency. It was just my parents… well, the scientists that called themselves my parents.”
“They lived somewhere else, away from the lab. They would go home at night and leave me in the lab.” The girl sighs heavily, “I never left the lab, until I escaped when I was 14. One night after they went home, I broke out of my room. I grabbed as many files about me I could find, and then I left.”
“…and you’ve been on your own since then?”
Y/n nods, “but now I’m here, and you’re gonna teach me how to help people right?” This time Natasha is the one to nod. The girl smiles, “then this much better than the Red Room, and you all are much better than my parents.”
Her words bloom a sense of calmness in Natasha’s chest. She’s just about done with the second braid.
“You know you’re lucky,” the older woman plays with the baby hairs at the base of the girl’s head. She tickles her there until she gets a giggle, “we may not have had good childhoods, but you get a second chance to be a kid.”
Y/n looks up, entirely enraptured by Natasha’s words.
“Not many of us have that chance.” In this moment, the widow can feel a soft spot in her heart that wasn’t there before. A spot that now belongs to Y/n, “its ok to be little around us. I know you’re an adult, but its ok to be a kid. We want you here either way. Definitely me, Wanda and Clint, the rest of them team hasn’t quite caught up yet, but they’re on their way, trust me. You don’t have to hide in your room anymore. Ok?”
Y/n nods with a large grin. She has a new understanding of Natasha. She especially can feel the start of a new friendship. Its hard to believe that just a month or so ago she had no one, no friends. Now, she has three and hopefully more to come.
Being caught stealing by the Avengers might just be the best thing that has ever happened before.
“All done,” Natasha says while she wraps a hair tie to the end of the second braid. She lays the braid down the girl’s shoulder, “what do you think?”
Y/n takes in the sight of her two French braid pigtails and smiles widely. She looks up to the widow who sports her signature one French braid, and she smiles even wider. “Hey, I look kinda like you!”
Natasha chuckles, “yeah, you do New Kid.” She rests her hands on the girl’s shoulders, “there’s about to be a movie night in about 5 minutes, would you like to join us?” She steps into the doorway, outstretching a hand for Y/n to take.
The girl happily takes her hand and follows her lead. As they walk through the halls, their hands swing lightly in between them.
"If you'd like," Natasha proposes, "I could train with you sometime. I'm a much better fighter than Steve anyway." She playfully nudges the girl's side. "I could teach you how to kick his butt."
Y/n smirks, "I think I'd like that."
"Me too."
When the two of them enter the common area hand in hand, they receive more than a few confused glances from the team, except for Wanda who just looks ecstatic. They take their seats. Natasha sits on the couch with Wanda, and New Kid claims the chair nearby.
As the widow settles into her girlfriend’s side, she whispers in Wanda’s ear, “you were right.”
The witch gives her a quizzical look.
“She really is the sweetest kid.”
🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸
A few days later, and New Kid is already doing better. She’s coming out of her room more. She almost always gravitates towards Wanda or Natasha, which is fine by them. Each little interaction with a team member outside of training is making her feel a tiny bit more comfortable around the compound.
It’s not all that much, but a little progress is still progress.
One morning, Y/n opens her door to go to breakfast and nearly steps on a teddy bear sitting in the hallway. The sight of the toy has her itching to drop, but she’s dropped enough recently to control it. She remains her true age as she picks up the bear. Attached to the toy is a note with her name on it.
She fondly holds the bear tight to her chest as she reads the message.
Y/n, Just a reminder that its ok to be a kid. Its ok to want to do kid things. When I was in the Red Room, I wished I had a teddy bear even though toys were strictly forbidden. I thought you might like one too. Since, I’m kinda like you. -Natasha
🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸
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I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think down in the comments below. Also, if you have any ideas for what you would want to read, let me know!
As always, thank you so much for reading and for all your support. Much love!
-k
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Taglist: @battleg03 @thelittlewolfofaretuza @emiivey @dylanobriens-love @madelineleong @sluttyforfemaleavengers @santana1437 @thatonementallyillsimp @oliveoilpenguiny @you-are-beautifully-gorgeous @charcharslide-3 @anon1412 @universallypoetrycheesecake @mary-jinx @princess-kennys-rats @marvel-fan-2021 @ameeelia07 @kneelforloki @ornorr @prettysbliss @nattyolw @yukonasf @thursdayygrrrl @rach2602@ace-of-gay @casualbisexualfroggo @nyctophiliacatcher @ripofflizzie @chrisevansangel @randomnessbecausewhynot @lizlil @uselessastheginlasagnaa @m-h-r-h
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pixiexdusts-world · 8 months
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Incorrect quote
Tony: Y/n... How do I begin to explain Y/n?
Bucky: Y/n is flawless.
Natasha: I hear their hair's insured for $10,000.
Steve: I hear they do car commercials... in Japan.
Peter: One time they punched me in the face... it was awesome.
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shitty-marvel-fan732 · 5 months
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You Don't Mess With Y/N, Final Part
Here's the final part of this long awaited groupchat! Hoping to get back into the swing of posting more often so feel free to drop some asks for groupchat content 🥰
Summary: Everyone knows you don't piss off Y/N. What will happen when someone ignores the warning? Groupchat!
Links to Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3
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1800jjbarnes · 1 year
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𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐍𝐨𝐰 | 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬
【Synopsis】 : Steve couldn't wait to get back to the apartment to take you after a frustrating mission. So an empty meeting room will have to do.
『Word count』 : 330
Paring: Avenger!Steve x Agent!Reader
[Warnings] : Dirty talk, making out, hand job. Implications of sex.
Masterlist | Navigation
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This wasn't what you expected when Steve started to drag you through the halls of the large compoud. It was only when he found an empty meeting room that he pushed you inside, locking the door after him. He was quick to get to work, removing only the important clothes—So your pants, of course— Along with his. His lips found your neck, pushing you onto an empty desk, hands gripping your hips with desperation. Everything was happening so fast your brain couldn't keep up. You needed him, but he, he was craving you. He needed it so badly that he thought he was going to combust if he didn't get a taste.
"Such a good thing for me." His voice shook, gulping down saliva while he continued to draw marks from your flesh. "I need you so badly." He admitted, making you moaning response. Your hand snaking into his pants, you pulled his hard cock out, wrapping your fingers around the shaft.
"Stevie… Someone might hear us." Your poor excuse for dominance runs thin. Your grip tightened around him, pumping him quickly and swiftly. There was no time for fun and games. You both knew that. Steve would usually take his time with you and pamper you with love and devotion. But this time. This time, he needed it. Fast, and hard.
“You don’t care about someone hearing us. All you care about is me filling this delicious pussy.” He growls, pushing your hands away from his cock so he could line up himself to your entrance. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you forward so that you just hung on the edge of the table. His breath tickled your neck, nibbling at your flesh as he sinks deep inside you. You grip his shoulders, choking out a moan. His thrusts were quick and erratic, holding you close.
“Now, now, Sugar. Be quiet.” He thrusts into you deeper. “You don’t want someone to hear us, do you?”
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fotibrit · 7 months
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crack fic in which the avengers team decide to share each of their origin stories for their powers as some team bonding event, except none of them tell the true story, for different reasons.
Peter honestly has no idea how he got his powers. None at all. He came up with the spider-bite thing ages ago, but it never actually happens. It’s just too late to back out of the story now.
Tony doesn’t want to unpack the whole “kidnapped betrayed self sacrifice” thing in front of everyone. Everyone knows the story anyways. Instead, he tells a story made up on the spot about a robot building competition in which someone tried to enter themselves as a robot and he made a robot with a human included
Nat isn’t going to divulge her whole life story to this crowd. She has been careful to monitor who knows what, and a stupid game won’t disrupt that. She ends up passing, and when pressed, she briefly explains that she was tortured as a girl. The thing is, she explains in latin. Nobody presses her again.
Bruce tells the story of what he WISHES happened, what should have happened, when he became the hulk. He describes the chemical reactions and explains the desired end result and hypothesis ect. He describes what should have happened, not what did.
Thor takes the opportunity to tell a thrilling story about a childhood fight he had with a random civilian who irked him, and how that person inspired him to be a hero. Nobody quite understands his logic. Everyone pretends to understand.
Steve decides to describe, not the plane crash, but the various attempts to join the army prior to the serum. He gives a rough estimate of how many federal crimes he committed in an attempt to join the army. He isn’t sure the exact number, but it’s certainly enough crimes to land him in jail for centuries. Steve shrugs. He had the time.
Once it’s Clint’s turn, he shrugs. “Anyone here read The Hunger Games, by chance? … It was nothing like that. I just like archery.”
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