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juridical-angel-blog · 8 months

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#hugh jackman #robert downey jr #rdj #tony stark ~ iron man #peter parker ~ spider man #James Howlett Logan ~ Wolverine #MCU #mcu multiverse #marvel #Marvel Fantasy #MCU Fantasy #secret wars #Mcu fantasy Imagine

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jibberjibbsart · 1 year

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I saw @socially-awkward-wizard ‘s text post and I had to draw it

#Eddie and venom return #my art #symbrock #veddie #let there be carnage #mcu #marvel #Spiderman #venom #comic #illustration #fantasy #doodle #sketch #fanart #cartoon #symbiote

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leehanji · 9 months

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Illustrations from my Stucky fic The Limits of Duty

Read it here on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48358507/chapters/121967410

#stucky #steve x bucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #mcu #Marvel #captain america #winter soldier #fic #my fics #leehanji #medieval au #fantasy au

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vizual-demon · 3 months

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Eternals

(2021) dir. Chloé Zhao

#eternals #marveledit #mcuedit #filmedit #angelina jolie #don lee #thena #gilgamesh #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #superhero #fantasy #film #my gifs

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boxofbonesfic · 8 months

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Title: Brave [5 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: The journey to Tarrath is not one to be undertaken lightly—there are more things to fear in the untamed places of the world than stags, a lesson you are soon to learn.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy/n AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse

A/N: 👀

You have been riding since before sunup, and your hips and back ache from long hours spent in the saddle. The pack sets a leisurely pace through the grass sea, meandering through the plain in a loose line. The vast mountains you knew are at your back now, shrinking into misty, faint points. They tell you how far you have come with their distance, and you wonder how many steps you have taken since last you were the person you had been before.

Since you left the woman you were supposed to be by the riverside—and how many more you will have to take to become someone else entirely. Though it has been only a fortnight sine you watched the village burn, it feels like a lifetime ago. Someone else’s memory, someone else’s eyes.

The pack keeps a steady pace until the sun is high in the sky and the mountains are meaningless pinpricks. The land changes too, the flat plains turning into rolling hills that remind you of the cresting waves you have seen painted in books and on tapestries. The only difference is, these don’t come crashing down to drown you, the grass whispering quietly in the breeze.

You ride somewhere in the middle of the line, the pack stretching both before and behind you, riding towards the sun as it begins to sink low in the sky. You can see Steve near the front, his sword strapped between his broad, bare shoulders. Like he can feel your gaze, he turns back, one thick fang hanging over his lip as he grins. You drop your head, your cheeks burning.

Let them see.

When you look up again, he’s gone.

—

Night on the grass sea is beautiful. A thousand thousand stars glow like fireflies caught in tar, stretching out further than you can see into the darkness. The pack does not stop, continuing at the same pace as all light fades, and the moon rises cold and clear. At first, the sheer drop in temperature is enough to keep you awake—without the thick furs and blankets neatly rolled and strapped to your horse, your ripped dress offers less protection against the biting wind. But after a few hours, despite the chill, your eyelids begin to droop heavily, your shoulders dropping as you slump in the saddle.

It is the feel of Steve’s warm hand on your back that wakes you, instantly jolting you into panicked awareness as you turn sharply to glare at him.

“Easy, Sweetmeat,” he replies. “I mean only to keep you from breaking your neck.” He raises an eyebrow. “Unless that is your wish this night.”

You scowl. “No, I—thank you.” The words come haltingly.

“The journey is a long one.” Steve shrugs. “You will learn to sleep in the saddle.”

“Or fall out of it,” you mutter, and he laughs, a loud boisterous sound that carries out into the night.

“You never cease to amuse, Sweetmeat,” he says after a moment, the words still colored with the sound of his mirth. “I wonder what the elders shall make of you.” There is fear at his words, but your curiosity burns just as brightly.

“What is it like?” You ask. “Your city?”

“In your tongue, Tarrath means ‘city at the end of the world’.” You feel your eyes widen in spite of your attempt to keep your features schooled into neutrality. “It was built into the cliffside by my people long ago, before we knew the arbitrary lines your kings drew on their maps.” You gape at him, floundering for words. The maps you know end somewhere out into the grass sea. At their edges, perhaps an orc settlement or two, but mostly… nothing. The impossibly vast mountains and the forests that border them are all you know.

But perhaps the truths you know are not truths at all.

“Have you seen the sea, little one?” You shake your head.

“What does it look like?”

Steve smiles. “Blue. The water is salt to the taste, but so blue. Like… two skies.” He motions with his hands, and you hold the reins tightly as you close your eyes and try to see it. More water than you could possibly imagine, as deep and endless as the sky.

“And the city?” You ask, stifling a yawn.

“There are great towers of red brick with fires at their hearts. And there are not so few men as you might think.”

“Humans?”

“And more.” He nods. “Elves, Dwarves. Children of the world before.”

You begin to slump again as he speaks, but this time Steve doesn’t wake you. He reaches across your lap to grasp the reins in one large hand. He loops them around the horn of his saddle. When you do finally begin to lean over, it is against his warm shoulder.

“You coddle her.” Bucky’s irritated voice doesn’t wake you—the firm hold exhaustion has on you is too heavy to drag your mind back to wakefulness, and you will not remember these words when you do wake again. Steve chuckles.

“I like her.”

—

“Storm’s too thick.” You, and the rest of the pack are crowded around Bucky as he speaks, the horses shifting anxiously in the stillness. You can see it, the band of dark, angry dust stretching across the horizon. You’ve never seen anything like it, like the Gods’ fury given terrible form. When Bucky had set out to scout, it was a pinprick–and now the cloud stretches almost as far as you can see. “We’ll be waiting days for it to pass.”

Steve grimaces, his tusks hanging over his lip as he showcases his displeasure.

“Aye,” he agrees, turning his eyes toward the horizon, eyeing the storm. “We’ll go around.”

“The pass?” There’s a murmur of something like discomfort that passes through the pack. Something like fear. “Gods damn it.” Bucky looks back toward the storm and curses again. “We don’t have the rations to wait it out.” He doesn’t ask—it isn’t a question. And Steve’s grim expression is all the answer you need.

“We’ll put it to a vote. The pass—or the storm.” He turns to the pack. “Those who want to brave the storm, step forward.” Lightning crashes in the distance, and you swallow thickly. By the sound of it, the pass is equally formidable. You recall the stag, it’s hungry jaws and fierce eyes, and wonder what else waits for you on this road—the one you’ve chosen.

After a moment, Steve nods stonily, his expression battle-fierce.

“The pass it is.”

The pack wastes no time reorienting itself, turning west to skirt around the tempest of stinging sand and thunder. Carol rides up beside you, her expression grim.

“Do not think we have chosen the easy road, little human.”

You don’t. “What is the pass?”

“It was a road, once. One that has returned to the sea and the things that live inside it.” Her voice is low, warning. “Men are wise to fear the zikaegina,” she gestures at the endless shifting grass. “It hides many things.”

“Why did you abandon the road?” Carol grimaces, her expression heavy with memories, knowledge you don’t share. Her eyes are dark when they meet yours again.

“Because other things used it too.”

to be continued

browsethestacks · 21 days

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The Fantastic 4: The Human Torch

Happy 4-4 Day!

Art by Ryan Meinerding

#Comics #Marvel Comics #MCU #Fantastic Four #Human Torch #Ryan Meinerding #Art #Marvel #Science Fiction #Fantasy #4-4 Day

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cleabellanov · 3 months

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The People's Choice Awards are heeere! Vote for Tom and Loki, go go go 💚

#Loki #tom hiddleston loki #tom hiddleston #owen wilson #mobius #ouroboros #breaking news #breaking bread #science fiction #fantasy #lokius #best tv series #best TV star #awards #people's choice awards #tv shows #marvel #mcu #loki series

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tankgotstuckinthecircusgate · 7 months

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big compilation some of doc ock x rosie fantasy au art bc this story is dear to me

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goldenfantasyarts · 5 months

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Next to each other, as intended 💖

#my artwork #fantasy art #marvel fanart #loki fanart #loki laufeyson #loki #thor ragnarok #what if #what if…?#doctor strange supreme #doctor strange #strange supreme #strangefrost #stephen strange #Stephen x Loki #mcu loki

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tbgkaru · 9 months

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A girl's gotta eat so!

♥FLASH COMMISSIONS, 5 SLOTS ONLY ♥Price range from 35$(chibi)-200$(comics)Payment aheadFrom ~August 20

-more of my works: https://tbgkaru.wixsite.com/mysite/my-work-me-prace

-commission sheet: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLScUVX2jhB0sk0OcusRn4qUp8V4Wc_dX5pWQElVZcFJb6bM_7g/viewform

#commission #mdzs #uranep #naruto #lotr #overwatch #final fantasy 14 #stucky #critical role #warframe #apex legends #nightcrawler #mcu

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murdrdocs · 1 year

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um idc if it's possible or not but buying a ranch with peter? in a quieter spot so ya know.....

fuck outside on a picnic blanket bc he's definitely the type to do that if be sees you in a pretty sundress

LITERALLY SCREAMED WHEN I SAW THIS AND PUT MY CHICK FIL A AWAY LIKE THIS IS EXTREMELY PERSONAL TO ME

peter quill has always been meant for the quiet life. he's spent years ravaging, and saving the galaxy, and now it's time for him to settle down with someone pretty, who loves almost nothing more than wearing pretty sundresses and having picnics in their backyard.

you go through the motions, even though you both know how it'll end.

peter cuts up the fruit, creating a fruit bowl that'll eventually be shared by the two of you. he slips pieces while he does so, giving you some as well and kissing you afterwards, savoring the taste of the watermelon on your tongue mixing with the strawberry on his. he makes the drinks, too, concoctions of arnold palmers with some sort of fruit juice added in.

you make the sandwiches, usually whatever kind you woke up craving the morning-of. it's a simple routine, domestic, easy, innocent. and then it's all packed into the basket and you hold hands as you walk out to the tree and the innocence exists for just a little while longer, long enough to make a dent in the fruit bowl and the pitcher.

but then you're straddling peter's lap with your sundress pooled around you and your hands are in his hair while his are on your back, pulling you closer to him. you're grinding your crotch against him, lacy material scratching against denim. the thin straps of your dress are pulled down and peter has his lips on your breasts, sucking fresh hickies to replace the one's that have faded from your picnic just a little while ago. there's some along your inner thighs that need fixing, too, and peter reminds you of the fact while he lays you on your back, kissing you through your giggles.

you know you could take the dress off, but keeping it on is part of the fun. being ordered to hold it while peter's copper head of hair situates itself between your legs, keeping the top pulled down for access to your nipples, holding the fabric between your teeth when you ride peter, your hands busy with digging into his shoulders and your eyes needing to see his cock disappear and reappear from your cunt.

it's all like clockwork; you get a new dress, the fruits and vegetables are ripe, the weather is your definition of perfect, and you're outside on your property, letting your boyfriend fuck you senseless with nothing but nature as a witness.

#never wanted anything more #this is like my no 1 fantasy #peter quill x reader #peter quill x you #peter quill smut #peter quill #celeste writes mcu #peter quill x gn!reader

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vogler-illustrationz · 4 months

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Hulk sketches

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sunnysideprincess · 6 months

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Tony Stark was a wizard well known to attract trouble with the divine. First it was Loki, who had been enraged that a mere mortal couldn't be enchanted by him. Then it was Thor when Tony cursed his brother to erupt in painful boils if he dared to step on Earth. After, it was Steven drenched head to toe in swamp water—which was very reasonable on Tony's part because the flame keeper's tantrum was hurting his largest batch of hibiscus. Though he was willing to admit there had been a slight misunderstanding due to Natasha and Fury's mingled cunning. There was also Tiberus Stone, a minor deity of an abandoned mountain, who sought Tony's land and thought the best way to do it was to flood the lower plains and destroy an entire settlement. The less it was said about how many mortals and immortals he had pissed off was better. Though the incident did gain Tony his Rhodeybear, a furious looking cloud Elf and it did mellow Steven, who now went by Steve of all names.

Coming to the present, there was a wolf blocking his way. Its fur gleaming silver like the frost and eyes glittering greys and blues like a budding storm. Tony had been warned about it. Once a hell demon going by the name of Winter Soldier, now he was seated at the council of gods as the White Wolf.

Not currently of course. Not when he was prowling around Tony in a way that wasn't unlike a predator circling a prey. A slightly difficult situation, considering Tony was all out of mana after destroying the Hydra beast lurking near a demigod settlement and his spare arc was in the carriage with little miss Wanda. He was bleeding and exhausted, hungry and stumbling.

He was a great wizard. The best. But he was also a mortal in dire need of the comforts of his home.

So he was caught unaware when a drop of his blood touched the ground, when the wolf took a deep breath and lunged, disappearing into a blur. And Tony, who was too busy in trying keep his body upright, yelped when his world tilted and he ended up facing the maw of the beast.

"Alright, that's it," he growled, pulling his only faintly glowing arc out of his pocket. "Get off, frost fleabag, before I push you—hheeek!"

He would never admit it, not even under the threat of drowning, that he squeaked like a squirrel when he felt the icy tip of the wolf's nose diving into the crook of his neck. He would also never tell of how the soft exhale which cast ice crystals over his skin made his cheeks heat in a way no mortal or immortal had ever known to or how he shivered when he felt the scrape of tongue over his skin.

"Bucky, no!"

The wolf jumped back, its teeth bared and eyes slanted in annoyance. Tony was quick to scramble up and plant his back against the nearest stump of tree, wondering why in the world was Steve marching down towards the wolf like it was a runaway dog and why in the world was the White Wolf sniffing and licking Tony.

"What in the seven heavens are you doing?"

The wolf huffed out a challenging breath then growled at the god, before tilting its head towards Tony.

"Absolutely not! No," Steve growled, erupting in his usual bright blue fames. "You know it is forbidden."

"What is," Tony voiced out loud, gathering the attention of the two divines. A flicker of annoyance washed over him, reminding him just why Gods were the most terrible of all immortal brethren. They were brutish, vicious and above all, thought they were entitled to every man's respect. "I wish to know exactly why your friend—is he not—decided to jump a weary travelling wizard?" He gave himself pause to fix his posture, then added a snide "your ever-unfrozen highness" for good measure.

The wolf huffed out a —laugh? It cast a smug look towards Steven then licked its teeth in a slow teasing reminder of what it had tasted on Tony.

Tony, like any respectable wizard, ignored the heat and tingles rising up his spine and crossed his arms.

"Well?"

"He's Bucky."

"Oh my—is he your pet? How very scandalous, your lordship! Does the heaven know about it? Does my godmother know about it? Who, may I remind you, you have pledged your eternally beating heart to."

"Tony," Steve sighed, his flames flickering back to a more manageable size. "No. He's not—He is my friend. And he, uh..."

The wolf snorted and much to Tony's everlasting surprise, Steve's flames came back roaring.

"Shift back to your humane form then, I'm not willing to be your translator for the night!"

"What are you—"

The place where the wolf was standing erupted in a flurry of snow and wind. And Tony watched, fascinated and already itching to try and create a spell which could mimic the flare of it all, as the air cleared.

The wolf was gone, and instead there was a man, almost as tall as Steven. His hair belowed with the wind, reaching past his chin in waves that would make the travelling Sphinx jealous. His left arm, bless Tony's luck, was completely encased in ice and carrying a scythe made of Wakandan moon stone. A greedy part of Tony wondered if he could somehow detach it from the god and keep it for himself, which was immediately smothered by the memory of his mama chastising him for being spoiled.

As if sensing his appreciation, the wolf-god-man bared his teeth-his fangs into a roguish smile and spoke with a deep rumble which clouded the air with a sudden chill.

"I am here to declare wizard Anthony Edward Stark as my beloved consort. And I wish for him to be seated with me in the highest council of gods."

So there you have it.

Tony Stark was a wizard well known to attract trouble with the divine. But this just might be one of a kind.

#winteriron #alternate universe #au: supernatural/fantasy #fantasy au #tony stark #bucky barnes #wizard tony #god bucky #deb writes in between #james bucky barnes #buckytony #mcu #ficlet #white wolf bucky #wanda maximoff #steve rogers #october treats

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boxofbonesfic · 5 months

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Title: Brave [7 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: The pack regroups after the deadly assault in the pass.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse, Fighting, Monsters, Animal Death, Violence, Mildly described gore

A/N: thank you all forever and ever for bearing with me as i struggle through writer’s block! i’m afraid you all won’t be happy with the results of this chapter, but i hope you have enough faith in me to stick it out and see what happens. as always, reblogs and feedback of all kinds are appreciated and always welcome!

When Steve attempts to pull the reins from your trembling hands you hold on tightly, fighting him.

“Easy, Sweetmeat. Easy.”

The torchlight is warm and welcome in the gray mist, and by its light you can see the extent of the damage. Your hands are caked with blood and dirt, your nails raw and split. You raise a trembling hand to your chest and wince. There are wounds here too, matching claw marks like the ones you know now mark the space between your shoulder blades.

They stretch from the base of your throat down between your breasts, cut cleanly through the ragged fabric of your dress. softness. Steve repeats it as he looses them from your grip, peeling each of your fingers back gently, until you are forced to release the bloody leather from your trembling hands. The pass is far behind, now, lost somewhere in the mist, but you fear it still, your wide, terrified eyes searching the gloom. For the sun, for more nameless horrors—

In the dark angry sky, you find neither.

Perhaps it is morning, perhaps not—there is no sun by which to tell, no light peeking from behind the furious, roiling clouds.

Steve dismounts, landing beside the horse with a wet thud. You join him and grimace as you sink into the muck up to your calves. The ground is slick, thick with mud that sucks at your boots. The grass sea is pock marked with patches of lightning-scorched earth, patterning what little you can see in the gloomy twilight—some are bigger around than your father’s house. Above, thunder rumbles, and you watch massive bolts of lightning twist across the sky in a burning arc, lighting ablaze the distant hills where it strikes.

Would this path have been any better? You eye the storm’s path of destruction across the sea. No, you decide, watching again as lightning cuts through the dark sky. Where there is death, there will always be death.

Steve produces a torch from his gore-stained saddlebags. He lights it, holding it aloft. The firelight is warm and welcome in the gray mist, and by its light you can see the extent of the damage. Your hands are caked with blood and dirt, your nails raw and split. You raise a trembling hand to your chest and wince. There are wounds here too, matching claw marks like the ones you know now mark the space between your shoulder blades. They stretch from the base of your throat down between your breasts, cut cleanly through the ragged fabric of your dress.

“To me!” Steve bellows, the depth of his voice trembling in your chest. “To me!” Slowly, the pack begins to reform. Out of the darkness they come, circling the flame like lost moths. You are overcome with relief to see Carol among them. Beneath her, her steed trembles, the gash along its flank bleeding sluggishly.

So few. You cannot help but take stock of those who gather, dismounting their horses to stand before Steve. So few. The pack had been intimidatingly large before. Perhaps fifty, sixty riders strong—the ones who remain number less than forty. Steve knows it too, you can see it in the grim set of his jaw.

“Where is Bucky?” A murmur passes through the pack, but no one answers. For the first time, in Steve’s bright blue eyes, you see fear. You search for Bucky’s face amongst the survivors, your chest tightening as the realization dawns cold and clear—

You do not see him. After a long while, someone finally speaks.

“He fell.” Carol steps forward, her head low. You watch Steve’s entire body go taut. He shakes his head, his brows knitting together in angry disbelief.

“No.”

“I saw him.” She looks up, and her eyes are bright and wet. “He fell.” The wind whistles through the grass in the silence. “He fell.”

For a moment, Steve’s free hand rests upon the hilt of his sword, squeezing the pommel as if beset by foes a second time, but he releases it, clenching his fist. When he does speak, his voice is cold, devoid of anything but authority.

“Then we will light his way to our ancestors.” The light of the torch does not seem to reach his eyes, which are shrouded, and dark. “We will light the way for all of them.”

The fire is weak, at first, sputtering dangerously as you all feed it bundles of wet kindling. It catches, eventually, the light rain fizzling out as it meets the flames. Steve’s face is stone, dark and unchanging as he watches the flames grow tall.

You are no stranger to mourning, to grief. Those who remain surround the fire, and their sorrow is yours too. The pass had claimed many who were kind to you, who had accepted you—

Gone.

A young female Orc approaches the fire. Her face is bandaged roughly, and the edges of the long wound peek out on either side of the dressing. In one hand she holds a shield. Her hands are steady, but her voice trembles as she speaks.

“Arun.” She tosses the shield into the fire. “May—” Tears choke her for a moment, and she swallows roughly. “May you find your way.” Others approach the flames, some weeping, others stoic and distant, speaking the names of those they have lost into the fire.

“Jonai.”

“Huth.”

“Karali.”

So many, many names.

“May you find your way.”

You do not know the Orc traditions for mourning, but you know your own. You have lifted your voice in song for your mother’s memory more times than you can count, praying that the crows will carry the notes high into the heavens, to her ear so that she might know that you have not forgotten her. You have no name to add to the fire, but this—this you can do. So too will you mourn for the pack, for the ones who have fallen.

The words are slow to come at first, reluctant to leave your lips. It is not long, however, before they remember the familiar shape of these melodies; before they remember how to name your grief. So you do—you name it there, before the fire. You feed it your grief, like—and unlike—the rest of the pack. They gather behind you as you sing, bowing their heads. The song catches in your throat, the words faltering on your tongue at the sight of them.

“Finish it.” You turn back, and there is Steve, stood before the fire. He is close enough to touch it, a torn quiver held tightly in one hand. “Finish it and guide them home.” He tosses in the scrap of leather as you finish, his voice consumed almost entirely by the sound of crackling flames, and the last echoing notes of your own parting gift—

“Bucky.”

to be continued…

browsethestacks · 4 months

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Moon Knight

Art by Dan Hipp

#Comics #Marvel Comics #Moon Knight #Khonshu #Dan Hipp #Marvel #Art #Fantasy #MCU #Film #TV #Television

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drghostwrite · 10 months

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You’re Not Alone…

Okay so I was gonna wait to write the Natasha x reader but I saw a quote and it made me think of her so here it is

Quote: “she looked my demons in the eye and smiled, she fell for the very thing I thought she’d fear”

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: Natasha and Y/N fell for each other but what happens when your past comes back to haunt you, can she handle it or will it break what you worked so hard to build. Also sticking with the female super soldier storyline.

******************************************************** Your heart was beating fast, your breathing heavy, but you kept running. Every muscle in your body screamed for you to stop, to give up but you couldn’t, branches and thorns pulled at your clothing, ripping through your skin, the gash in your side oozed blood as you ran. You watched as bullets embedded in the trees around you sending wood splintering into your path, you ducked and then jumped a log continuing to run, you turned back seeing the lights coming and before you turned around you stepped over the ledge sending you tumbling down the hill, you laid at the bottom feeling the blood running, you willed your muscles to move to get up, anything, but they stayed put.

“Over here!” You heard one yell. You heard boots crunching the leaves and branches, you squinted as a light was shined in your eyes, one of the other female agents squatted down next to you.

“Oh sweetheart, you really thought you could get away, after Rogers and Barnes we know what to expect and love you might be twice as strong as them but we planned for that.” She held you by the collar of your jacket and studied the disdain and pain in your eyes. “Looks like the Huntress isn’t as good as she thought.” She chuckled and you let out a sob.

“Don’t worry love this won’t hurt too much, or maybe it will who knows.” You watched unflinching, unable to move as her fist came across your face, everything blacked out as she knocked you out cold.

You shot up into a sitting position on the bed the blankets falling around you, your grey ribbed tank showed off the cold sweats and your heavy breathing. You jumped as Natasha reached a hand up running it soothingly up and down your back.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing it was just a dream.”

“Another one?” She asked concerned, this wasn’t the first time you’ve woken up in a panic and most times it was the same dream, the female scientist from hydra and you weren’t ever able to escape.

Natasha sat up leaning on you, she wrapped an arm around your back and laid the other across you lap placing a kiss to your neck and then placing her chin on your shoulder. You sat there and sobbed, “Nat I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what baby?”

“The dreams, the sleepless nights, I need closure and you don’t deserve this, you deserve to be loved and spend your days being loved not here like this.”

“Y/N.”

“No you don’t deserve someone like me all this trauma I carry, you’ve had to go through enough on your own.”

“Y/N Romanoff, look at me,” she looked into your reddened eyes and tear stained face with a gentle forgiving smile, “if I ever would’ve second guessed your love for me or that this would work I never would’ve asked you to marry me, I knew I wasn’t just marrying the smart, witty, funny and drop dead gorgeous super soldier, I know a lot of what Bucky went through and even what I went through, I understood that there would be things there but never once did that scare me.”

You looked back into her eyes as she pulled you into a kiss her hand gently on your cheek, her thumb swiping away tears. “I want you to remember who put that ring on your finger.”

“Natasha,” you said leaning your forehead on hers and letting the tears fall. “What did I do to deserve a woman like you.”

“Baby, you deserve so much more than just me.” You pulled her into another kiss, there was nothing behind it no alterior motives, no cheesy or sexy intent, just love, pure love.

You laid back down and she wrapped herself around you, she made sure that you felt secure and that’s how you fell asleep laying in the arms of the woman you love.

You woke up in the morning to light leaking through the windows but Natasha wasnt sleeping next to you, you got up and did your morning routine and when you went to grab your coffee before heading out to train the recruits you found a note on to the coffee pot.

Hey beautiful good morning, I’m gonna be working with some of the recruits today but I was hoping that maybe we could meet in your office later around dinner.

You smiled and grabbed your things, after a tiring day you made your way down to your office, it was actually really spacious and you had it decorated, pictures of the avengers hung on the wall of you with various other friends (Wanda, Tony & Peter, Steve & Bucky), some classes of recruits that you helped train and there were a ton of pictures of you and Natasha with friends, or even the two of you, found around you desk. You heard a knock on you door and watched as your wife slipped in a case file tucked under her arm, you stood and greeted her with a quick kiss to the lips.

“So how’d today go?” You asked her, as you both sat down together on you couch, she propped her legs over your lap.

“Well these recruits were feeling testy today.”

“I’m sure you gave them hell though.”

“Oh you better believe it.” You both laughed, she never tolerated disrespect especially if it was someone inexperienced and that didn’t know what they were doing.

“I also did some digging.”she motioned to the case file she had.

“Oh?” She handed you the file and you accepted flipping open the first page, you stopped breathing a knot forming in your throat, you looked at the picture clipped on the front page, it was the female hydra scientist from your dream.

“Natasha, what is this?”you looked at her for an explanation.

“I went back through some old case files from hydra and found this, your name is mentioned or at least your alias of the huntress. Turns out that is doctor Quinn Alexander she was known for engineering and even won awards, after she went missing though and turns out she’s the one who created your formula, the first person to make a female super soldier, she made you twice as strong as Steve and Bucky essentially making you a super, super soldier. Her research showed that her main purpose was to see if she could A. Create you and B. To see if she could breed you with another soldier creating a superhuman race, but it didn’t work because Bucky escaped and then she was killed... I thought you might need some more closure so it’s all right there in that file whether you want it or not.”

“Nat thank you, thank you so much, you have no idea what this means to me.”

“Baby I know exactly what this means, I didn’t have someone to do that for me and I had to go through it alone. But you’re not alone, I’m here to help you fight these demons even if that means sleepless nights.”

Tears rolled down both of your cheeks and you leaned forward kissing her, that was the moment you knew you made the right choice you had married the right one. She was never going to let you fight alone and you will do the same for her.

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