#She also uses it with Tony and the others sometimes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sytoran · 8 months

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐓.𝟐

following your erotically fantastical encounter with the mother of the kids you babysit, the aftermath is more of a rollercoaster than you could have ever precedented.

🌸 pairing: milf!pregnant!wanda x dom!babysitter!reader

🌸 cont: smut (18+), mommy kink (wanda), lactation kink, body worship, praise kink, power bottom sex-deprived milf 🤝beefy college service top footballer

🌸 word count: 2042

🌸 note: THIS IS SO LONG-AWAITED im sorry..... also i know im supposed to be writing for kinktober but milf!pregnant!wanda was invading every corner of my mind so here ya go. not proof-read!

part one || main masterlist

“Come on, Y/N, you’re not going to the party tonight?” Natasha grumbles, grabbing the sleeve of your bomber jacket as you try your darndest to escape your friends.

It was the fated next day following your erotically fantastical encounter with Wanda, and you had just completed your classes. As you strolled out of campus grounds, the sun was already setting. It painted a picturesque view of the orange horizon, but truthfully, you only cared about getting back to Wanda for that promised ‘tomorrow’.

“I told you no, Nat,” you reply with a playful sternness that the others laugh at. It was no secret that Natasha had a crush on you, ever since you first sat next to her in the lecture hall and got a little flirty and perhaps a little too handsy.

It was also no secret that for every lecture after that, you would sit next to a different girl and activities of the same sort would ensue. Most of the time, those encounters would end up with a pretty girl trapped between the wall of a cramped supply closet and you.

“They’ve probably got a secret girlfriend,” Tony adds unhelpfully, with that classic smirk you want to punch off his face sometimes.

“Really?” Steve asks genuinely, ever the innocently clueless one. “Is she younger than us?”

“Oh, definitely,” Sam chimes in. “Have you seen the freshmen ‘round our beloved Y/N?”

“Feral,” Carol states in resolution. “They crowd at the field to watch Y/N during football practice.”

“And of course, Y/N doesn’t bother to hide the way she leads them all on!” Natasha adds in partial indignation, nudging you suggestively. “That’s totally your type, hm? Younger, pretty girls who chase after you with a puppy love? Is that why my forward advances have always ended in flames?”

You grin half-heartedly, awkward in the spotlight of your love life. For one, your friends couldn’t be more wrong about this ‘secret girlfriend’ you had. Younger, innocent girls? More like smoking hot single moms in their late thirties.

It was strange, even, how you would normally take these girls’ teasing in your stride, almost basking in the glory of being the most sought-after student on campus.

But with the looming thought of Wanda intercepting every brain wave of yours, months of pining surmounting to a heated make-out session with the hope for something more, all else was forsaken.

You try not to think about the implications of that too hard.

As your friends continue to bicker about the prospect of your secret girlfriend, you seize the well-earned distraction and weasel your way out.

Sooner than you’d care to admit, you’re standing outside Wanda’s home, skateboard in hand. You’re buzzing in anticipation with your flushed face and windswept hair.

Before you can doubt yourself and backtrack, you knock on the door sharply, twice. You can’t help but smirk at the muffled shriek that follows, then a muted shuffle, then silence. Your heart hammers in your ribcage. You really were about to do this.

“Come in, sweetheart,” the mother calls out with a sugary tone that feeds your ever-increasing libido.

You open the unlocked door, mentally preparing yourself to face Wanda once more.

But then you actually lay your eyes upon her ethereal figure, and your athlete-hardened knees nearly buckle.

Fuck.

Sprawled out on the sofa like something out of a classic Renaissance painting is Wanda, clad in nothing but a lacy set of dark red lingerie, the most sultry look on her face that draws all the air out of your lungs.

You’d never seen a more attractive woman, pregnant or not.

The way the lacy bra hugs her swollen breasts tighter, pushing the cleavage to be even more visible, the way her thick thighs are spread to reveal those beautiful stretch marks.

“Fuck,” you say, a lot higher pitched than you would care to admit. It seems to be the only word currently circulating in your mind, your studied vocabulary flying out of the window at the sight of Wanda presenting herself for you like a well-earned present.

“See something you like?” Wanda dares to tease, left hand trailing along the lace of her bra, dipping into the ample cleavage that leaves you salivating.

It takes approximately three seconds for you to kick the door shut, yank off your jacket and nearly dislocate your shoulder, then press against Wanda like it was always meant to be.

The kiss you pull her into is the opposite of gentle, your head slanting to deepen the kiss immediately, tongues meeting like planets bound to collide, bound to cross paths and cause an eclipse.

Wanda moans into the kiss, and you can barely hide your pleasure at that noise. You wanted to hear it a thousand times over, the breathless cry of your name, the begging tone of the older woman.

It was so wrong, but nothing had felt more right.

Wanda’s relinquishment of power doesn’t last too long, though, because before you can impatiently rip off the fabric of her lingerie, she threads her fingers into your hair and forcefully tugs you closer to her chest.

“My house, my rules,” Wanda states, and you’d be lying if you didn’t feel a rush of arousal coursing through your veins at Wanda’s motherly sense of control.

“Yes, ma’am,” you mutter, half-jokingly, but when your peripheral view catches Wanda visibly aroused by that, you know it isn’t going to be the last time you address her as that.

Your hand slides under Wanda’s body to unclasp the bra, letting out an affected noise at the sight of her full tits on display.

“Shit,” you grunt, pausing for a moment to admire the view.

Throughout the months of babysitting Billy and Tommy, you had only ever discreetly checked out Wanda’s cleavage, or perhaps stare a little too hard when she wore scanty dresses that showed off her side boobs.

Now, with those perfect, swollen mounds right before your face, you give into your urges to bury your face between them. You groan at the sensation of Wanda’s milk leaking out of her hardened nipples, your mouth moving to suckle at her breasts.

“Shit, baby,” Wanda cries, throwing her head back as you drink right out of her breasts, lapping fervently. It wasn’t entirely sexual per se, but the sheer relief of lightening that weight load in her breasts was a pleasure in itself.

You get slightly drunk off the feeling of Wanda’s breasts in your mouth, and it takes Wanda a surprising amount of strength to get your head away from her chest eventually.

“You’re a bit too obsessed with my tits,” Wanda teases, swiping her milk off your lips with her thumb, tilting your head down to lock eyes with her. The tension between the two of you is palpable, thick in the air, and you long to drown in that desire.

You only smirk back, hands resting on the hem of her thong. “May I undress you now, ma’am?” you emphasise, tilting your head to the side in faux innocence.

“So polite,” Wanda retorts right back, fingertips tracing the curve of your jawline as a smile plays on her lips. “How could I say no to such a gentleman?”

That’s all the confirmation you need before you snap the elastic of Wanda’s red thong, stuffing the flimsy material into the pocket of your pants. What you’d do with it later was for another day.

You kiss down Wanda’s breasts to her swollen belly, firm but gentle, then you flatten out your tongue when it reaches her wet heat.

“I couldn’t pay attention,” you growl, licking a long stripe up Wanda’s pussy. “In any of my fucking classes today,” you continue, tongue flicking at her puffy clit. “‘Cause I was thinking ‘bout all the ways I could fuck that pretty cunt.”

The filthy moan that leaves Wanda’s lips at your words rings around the confines of the four walls.

It had been so long since Wanda experienced such mindblowing sex; She had been sexually repressed because of Vision’s busy schedule, and it was torture because pregnancy pretty much solidified her daily sexual arousal.

But what with her split from him meaning no more mediocre sex, and the prospect of a hot babysitter entering her life, Wanda’s pregnancy hormones had skyrocketed to an all-time high.

Long gone were the nights she held a vibrator against her clit under the sheets, eyes screwed shut as thoughts of you swam in her head. Long gone were the times she helplessly fingered herself in the shower, wishing her fingers belonged to you instead.

Now, your head was buried between her thighs, your mouth like the devil on her cunt, fast-paced and unforgiving and everything Wanda had always longed for.

“You’re perfect,” you grunt into the older woman’s wet heat, the vibrations of your rough tone sending jolts of arousal up Wanda’s body. “You’re so fucking perfect, Wanda.”

“D-Don’t say that,” she answers breathlessly, fingernails digging into your scalp. “You’ve slept with plenty of other younger, prettier girls than me.”

The insecurity Wanda felt about her body had mainly stemmed from Vision, who was always going on about how she had become less attractive after pregnancy, with the stretch marks and the added fat and other blemishes on her skin.

“I don’t know about that,” you say, relentless in your worshipping of Wanda’s body. The way you were treating her like a temple was overriding the false beliefs Vision had planted into her head. “‘Cause now when I think about those other girls in bed they all end up looking like you.”

At that, Wanda feels tears prick in the back of her eyes, her gaze blurring as she stares at you. ‘

You, who had entered her life like a ray of hope, brightening up her every day with a blindingly charming smile and a selfless heart. You, who had treated her with more care and respect than any man she had ever been with before. You, who tied up all her loose ends and sewed it up to form the shape of a pretty little heart.

“I love you,” Wanda whispers, the words spilling from the tip of her tongue before she can control it. Her breath constricts afterwards when your mouth finally stops to register her words.

“I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to realize it,” Wanda continues, breathless, pushing aside your hair to properly look at you in the eyes. “But I do love you, Y/N L/N.”

Wanda feels something wet on her inner thigh, something that’s not her own slick. It takes a moment for her to realize that it’s your tears.

“I’ve loved you since I first laid my eyes on you,” you confess, eyes shining. “I think I was just scared to believe it until today, too.”

Heartstrings get tugged like a harp, crescendoing into a beautiful symphony that was finally requited love, finally coming to a high, finally reaching its summit.

The lust that encaptures the two of you dissipates into a warm glow of love, the tension easing into trials of romance.

When you dive back in between Wanda’s thighs, you’re determined and emotional and ultimately choked with new possibilities.

You could already imagine cooking dinners together with Wanda, reading the kids bedtime stories, chastising them to go and brush their teeth, stealing kisses when they fell asleep.

You could already map out a navigation of your future years, down millions of paths and possibilites that all brought you to Wanda Maximoff. She was your life, your truth, your unbreakable vow.

With that, her first orgasm comes in a tidal wave, like rushing water breaking free from a dam.

Wanda sobs, riding your face as she comes harder than she’s ever had in her life, squirting all over your face and the sofa, all else forgotten.

Your expert tongue and naturally-skilled fingers bring her to another plane of existence, where she was floating above the universe, where your name was chanted like a mantra.

The world around you faded as Wanda’s thighs wrapped around your head, as you dived down once more to worship, as you dived down once more to chase the love of your life.

This was the only happy ever after you needed.

hope yall liked it 😋 reblogs are much appreciated!!

main masterlist || AO3

#wanda maximoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #x reader #marvel smut #gxg smut #wlw smut #wanda maximoff x reader fluff #wanda x reader #wanda x reader smut #wanda x y/n #sub wanda maximoff #bottom wanda maximoff #top reader #dom reader

2K notes · View notes

trashywormeateroffics · 4 months

Text

the great war (bucky barnes x female reader)

the gif is not mine!

summary: you get jealous and have a fight with bucky. inspired by the great war by taylor swift.

a/n: hey anon!!! sorry it took so long. i have no excuse. anyways, i hope you enjoy this!!! <333 also i am once again asking u to send me requests with marvel characters (natasha/bucky/loki) and taylor swift songs so i can write a one shot about it !!!! bye love u

masterlist

\\\\

you don't know how it all happened. one second, everything was perfect. the next, you were acting like a crazy person and saying horrible and hurtful things. and now you're pretty sure you've officially lost him forever.

\\\\

it all started with her. agent carpenter. pretty, blue eyed blonde, flirty, perfect agent carpenter.

“alright everyone,” tony begins and the people in the meeting fall into silence. “as you all know, a new member is joining us on the avengers initiative.” they all nod, including you. “her name is samara carpenter and she was personally recruited by fury. which means she's very good at what she does.” the billionaire looks at steve and he nods, taking the lead.

“alright, i want you all to be nice and welcoming. especially you buck.” he says, making most of the people there snort. you look at him.

“what did i do now?” bucky asks, incredulous.

“nothing yet, but if you just stare at her and don't greet her like a normal person she'll leave this team as fast as she came.” sam tells him. the grumpy super soldier rolls his eyes.

“whatever, bird-brain.”

steve shakes his head in disapproval of the two bickering idiots but soon enough he's back on track with the presentation.

bucky's rough gaze scans the room until it falls on you. his eyes soften when he sees that you are already looking at him. you give him a soft and playful smile, which he returns.

after the meeting is done and everyone is dismissed, you head to your room.

not five seconds pass until someone knocks on the door. you smile, because you know who it is.

“come in!” you sing-song.

when he enters, you can't help but stare at him. you've been together for a year now but you still couldn't believe that he was yours. he was so beautiful, so funny, so kind, so dumb sometimes, just so… him. you loved him so much. yet you still hadn't said it. you were trying to take things slow, for both of your sakes.

“hey.” you tell him as he closes the door behind him. he has a look on his face which you recognize. something's bothering him.

“c'mere.” you pat the spot next to you on the bed.

he wastes no time in dropping himself unceremoniously on the mattress and letting out a sigh.

you begin to run your hands through his hair.

“d'you think i'm scary?” he asks with a pout adorning his beautiful pink lips. god, you want to kiss him so badly. so that's what you do. you peck his lips and then immediately shake your head with a smile.

“do you think that adorable pout could be scary?” he purses his lips to stop himself from smiling, but still, a small smile plays on his lips.

“y/n, i'm being serious.” he sighs. you do too.

“maybe to some people you could be. not to me though.”

“but when you first met me-”

“i was too busy thinking about how hot you were to worry about you being scary.” he laughs. god, how you love that sound. you would ridicule yourself to hear it. “is this about what steve and sam said?”

he shrugs.

“i just… hate that i'm so socially inadequate.”

you hand in his hair stops. he furrows his brows.

“bucky,” you begin, “we are a bunch of weirdos, all of us. there is not one person on this team who is socially adequate.”

“but at least the others can fake it, you can fake it.”

“you know what my favorite thing about you was when we first started to become friends?” you ask and he shakes his head. “that your face said it all. if you weren't in the mood for something, i could tell from a mile away, and in return, if something excited you, it would be contagious.” you caress his cheek and he leans into your touch. “and when i couldn't pretend, i always knew you were there to just sit in silence with me. no expectations to be socially acceptable.”

“i don't know how you do it.” he sighs. you frown.

“do what?”

“make every bad thing about me sound so… good.”

your frown deepens.

“hey.” you straddle him and grab his face in between both your hands. “you are perfect. just like you are. don't you dare change yourself.” you tell him firmly. then you purse your lips. “unless you totally want to for whatever reason and i would totally support you because-” you suddenly fall silent. he looks at you, expectant for you to finish your sentence. “because you know i'm here for you, no matter what.”

he smiles softly.

“i know, doll. me too, i'm always here for you no matter what.” you purse your lips to stop yourself from spilling your heart out of your mouth as you caress his cheekbone with your thumb.

“how about we watch a movie? you can pick.”

he pecks your lips and nods.

you spend what is left of the day watching movies and cuddling.

\\\\

two days after that meeting, she arrives. you're all hanging around the common kitchen when steve appears with someone trailing behind him.

“everyone, this is agent carpenter.”

“please, call me samara. or sammie even.”

“sammie, nice to meet you.” sam is the first one to greet her. “i'm sam wilson, but the coolest avenger is fine too.”

you shake your head and roll your eyes. then, you take a step forward, but before you can introduce yourself and welcome her to the team, you see her eyes flicking over to something right next to you. or someone. her eyes shine with curiosity and attraction.

“hi, nice to meet you.” she smirks. you swallow slowly.

bucky gives her a nod, but then he seems to remember what steve and sam told him and attempts to give her a smile.

“hi, i'm bucky.”

“bucky,” she repeats slowly, almost tasting the name in her mouth. she's about to say something else but before she can, you speak up.

“i'm y/n. welcome to the team.” you smile as honestly as you possibly can, but dread fills your stomach.

“hi!” she smiles at you. “you're so pretty, oh my god!”

you give her a tight smile.

“thank you.”

“of course!”

the rest of the team introduces themselves, even though she insists she already knows almost all of them and then you all go about your day.

\\\\

it had been a month since she arrived at the compound. you had seen her a few times, mostly during training. but you didn’t particularly go out of your way to talk to her. there was something you didn’t like. maybe it was your intuition, or maybe it was the fact that she did seem to go out of her way to talk to your boyfriend. and he did not seem upset by that, the opposite actually. he seemed to enjoy it.

you were not a jealous person, least of all with bucky. but something about her irked you. something about her made you doubt yourself and everything you believed in.

“i like her,” natasha says while she paints her nails, laying on her stomach on your bed.

wanda hums in agreement while she flips through the pages of a beauty magazine. you don’t say anything.

“what about you, y/n?”

“um, yeah.” you try to give them a convincing smile but based on the looks they give you, you do not succeed.

“okay, spill the tea.” wanda tells you. had she been learning internet lingo?

you sigh.

“i just- i don’t know.” you shake your head. “doesn’t something feel off to you?”

“not really.” wanda says as natasha narrows her eyes.

“you’re jealous.” she finally decrees.

“i’m not.” you respond defensively.

“you’re jealous that she seems to be getting along with barnes.”

“i-“ you begin your sentence with the intention of uttering a lie, but it dies right on your tongue. “i am. but i don’t want to be.” you confess.

“explain yourself.” she tells you in a tone that could sound commanding and harsh to someone else, but you know it’s filled with care. she’s your best friend, she would never hurt you on purpose. so is wanda, who looks at you with a knowing look you can’t seem to pinpoint the reason for.

“i just- i don’t know. he’s never like that with anyone. since when is he the type to joke around with someone?” you shake your head. “i’m an asshole, cause i should be happy for him. he’s putting himself out there. but i can’t. i’m jealous. so cliche.” you huff.

“you’re not an asshole. an asshole would make a whole scene, give him an ultimatum or something like that. you’re just expressing your feelings to your friends.”

“and, y/n, we all have those ugly feelings. they are human.” wanda tells you, softly. “you should talk to him about it.”

“what if he gets mad?”

“y/n, please. that man adores you, he could never get mad at you. least of all for this.”

maybe they’re right. maybe that’s the healthiest thing to do. and even as you agree with them, you know you will not talk to him about this. because he will realize that you’re right, and that there is so much more to the world than just… you.

\\\\

“come on! you just have to put it in the oven!”

you hear her before you see her. you weren’t expecting to see him though.

right there, almost as if mocking you, they stand. cooking together. he looks so comfortable around her.

they seem to be wrapped up in their own little bubble, so you clear your throat. immediately, they turn to look at you. he widens his eyes, almost looking guilty.

“james found me and i asked him to join me.” she explains, but you stop paying attention the moment she says his name. she called him james.

“james?” you narrow your eyes in question.

he seems to want to say something because he opens his mouth like a fish out of water but you leave mumbling an excuse about training with nat before he can utter a word.

back in your room, you fall to the floor and break down. you knew she was trouble the moment she walked in, but you weren’t expecting this to happen so soon.

heartbroken, you get up from where you’re sitting and head to your bathroom.

the girl in the mirror looks defeated, but you feel angry. if he didn't need you anymore, then you didn’t need him either.

\\\\

the days after that, you ignore him, always having an excuse at the tip of your tongue to not hang out with him. he doesn’t seem to care that much. until, you suppose, after three days, he begins caring.

“doll, can we talk?”

“hm?” you play dumb. you encountered each other in the common kitchen. that damned place, you hated it now, but you were hungry.

“i asked you if we can talk. you seem… distant.” his brows are furrowed. you only know that because you turned to look at him only for a second. other than that, your gaze doesn’t meet his. “come on, y/n, i know something’s wrong.”

you look at him and smile sarcastically.

“you do?”

“yes. please, let’s ta-“

“hey guys!” you roll your eyes at her voice.

“have fun you two!” you tell them, smiling venomously, only looking at him before you leave.

“is everything okay?” she asks.

“i’m sorry samara, i can’t talk right now.” you hear him say before you hear his footsteps getting closer to you in the hallway.

“y/n!” he calls out to you when you get into the elevator without looking behind you. before the doors can close, you see his metal arm get in between them. he gets in and they close. once they do, he hits the stop button. then, he turns to you. he frows when he sees the hate in your eyes. “y/n, what is going on?”

you scoff.

“fuck off, james.” you tell him, your voice full of venom. he widens his eyes in surprise before narrowing them.

“oh, so that’s it? you’re jealous and that’s why you’re avoiding me and acting crazy now?”

“i’m not jealous, but i’m not blind either.” you clench your jaw. “and don’t call me crazy.”

“you are blind if you think something’s going on with her.” he tells you. you roll your eyes and then tilt your head.

“when was the last time you let someone call you james? when was the last time you cooked with someone who was not steve?” he begins breathing heavily. you laugh and bite your lip incredulously. “i think you took the whole being friendly thing too serious.”

“i can't believe you right now.” he shakes his head. “you're angry because i'm not being an asshole to her?”

you scoff.

“oh, please, james.” he clenches his jaw.

“stop calling me that.”

“oh, so i can't call you that but she can?”

“you know that's not-”

“you know what? go ahead. let her call you james. fuck her in the middle of the common room for all i care. lets see how long she puts up with you.” you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth but its too late, a deep hurt covers his face. still, you can't stop. you're too hurt, too scared. too goddamn stupid. “you think she's going to console you while you have your nightmares?” you laugh venomously. “you think she's going to accept you, all of you?” as you keep talking, his expression turns from pained to angry. resentful even.

he turns to the panel control of the elevator and pushes the stop button so the elevator will move again.

“you know what?” he glances at you and you're almost taken aback by the distant look in his eyes. “maybe i'll fuck her. maybe i'll even date her too. she's probably not as desperate and clingy as you.”

“fuck you.” you spit out.

the doors open, he steps outside. before he leaves, he turns to look at you.

“yeah, you too.”

after the doors close again, you fall to the floor and let out a heart-wrenching sob. you never thought it would end like this.

\\\\

four days. four fucking, horrible, long days bucky has been gone from the compound. you try to ask steve about it, because you know he knows where he is, but he won't tell you. even though you two are close friends and he never got in the middle of a fight between you two– even though you two never fought– he seemed angry. at you. you didn't know if he knew the reason for the fight, but he knew you were in the wrong, that much you knew.

these days all you do is cry, sleep, eat and repeat. you're way past heartbroken, you're miserable, inconsolable. it's all your fault. this prison of sadness was your own making.

you miss him. god, you miss him. you wonder how he is. did he already fuck someone else? did he regret ever being with you?

you don't dare text or call him. you're too embarrassed. you acted like a crazy person, and said awful, horrific things. and you're pretty sure he'll never forgive you. but what will you do then? how will you build a life without him? oh god, you're crying again. great, just great, you think as you turn around in your bed. who were you without him?

\\\\

its the sixth day of his absence when you go talk to steve. you drag yourself from your bed, with your swollen and red rimmed eyes and knock on his door.

“y/n…” he tells you, pity dripping from his tone.

“hey…” you try to give him a fake smile, but as soon as the corners of your mouth move, they turn downwards into a frown, and you start crying. sobbing really. inconsolable sobs leave you as steve wraps you up in his arms.

“hey, hey, it's okay.”

“no, it's not! i hurt him! i don't know why i did it, but i did!” you sob.

“hey,” he pulls away from you a bit to look you in the eyes, “come in. come on, come on.” he tells you as you slowly make your way inside.

you sit down on the edge of his bed and he sits down next to you.

“steve, is he- is he okay?”

he looks at you. you know him, so you know that that look means he isn't.

“he's safe though.”

“i really messed up.”

“i know.”

“he told you?”

“he didn't need to. i saw it on camera. wanted to know why the elevator stopped working for a while.”

you put your head in your hands and begin sobbing again.

“oh my god.” you sob. “i-i'm so sorry you had to see that. i dont… i dont know what-” a hiccup escapes you. “i can't-” another hiccup. “oh god…” your shoulders shake as you sob into your hands.

“hey…” he draws comforting circles on your back, but nothing can comfort you. not when he's hurt and hates you and it's all your fault. “hey.”

“steve, how can i fix it? can i even-” hiccup, “can i even fix it?”

he looks at you with pity.

“i don't know, y/n. i think he's gonna need some time.”

“oh my god.” you say. steve had always rooted for you two, so if he's saying it can't be fixed it really means it can't. “i'm going to die.”

“you're not going to die.”

“i can't live without him. i can't.” you shake your head frantically. “please, just tell me where he is. i need to-”

“i dont think it's a good idea.” he tells you sympathetically.

“please,” you beg him, “please, i need to- if it ends…” more tears fall from your eyes. “it can't end like that. please. he deserves more than that.”

he looks at you, seemingly pondering what you're saying. you look at him the whole time, pleading. he sighs. he's going to tell you.

\\\\

you look at the old building that seems to be deteriorating with each passing second. you straighten down your clothes (steve insisted you get properly showered and dressed) and take a deep breath. he's staying at a safe house in brooklyn. of course. it was so predictable and so him, you almost decided to leave. maybe you should let it end how it ended. what if this time it was worse? but you didn't have the luxury to think like that. it was over, but you needed him to remember you as the good times you shared, not that damned last time.

you enter the building and go up the stairs to the seventh floor, since there is no elevator.

when you reach his door, a green one who looked like if you blew on it it would fall down, you freeze. what are you even supposed to say to him? hi, bucky, sorry i told you she wouldn't be able to put up with you, insinuating that you are hard to love, hope everythings okay between us! ugh, you wanted the earth to swallow you whole.

you take another deep, slow breath, because you know otherwise he'll be able to hear you. then, you knock two times.

when the door opens he takes your breath away. this time not because he's gorgeous but because you're so scared that you fear you're going to pass out.

“what do you want?” he asks harshly. you feel tears prick your eyes but you blink them away.

“hear me out, please.”

“no, thank you.” he goes to close the door, but you swiftly get inside before he does. he slams the door behind him when he turns around to look at you, now inside the apartment, looking uncomfortable and out of place. “i told you i didn't want to hear you out.”

“just-”

“leave.”

“one second-”

“leave, y/n.”

“bucky-”

“oh, so now i'm bucky?” your lip wobbles.

“you're always bucky.”

“not last time we talked.”

“that's why i'm here.” he lifts his chin, looking at you with so much indifference you wonder if he ever looked at you with love in his eyes.

“i don't care to hear you explain yourself.” a tear escapes your eye. you dry it with your sleeve harshly. his face seems to soften for a second but then it goes back to its harshness.

“i'm not here- i'm not here to explain myself.” he looks at you.

“why are you here then?” you sigh.

“remember that time you took me to feed the ducks on that park?”

“yes. so?”

you smile softly as tears fall down your face.

“that was the time i told you i wanted to be your girlfriend. no one ever took me to such a silly date.” you chuckle softly. then you frown in pain looking at the floor now. he shifts his weight from one feet to the other, impatient.

“what's your point?”

“that's how i'd like you to remember me.”

“what?” you look at him. he's frowning.

“i know that the last time we talked i was… crazy. i just- i know theres no going back, but id like, for the sake of what we had, for you to not remember me like that.” you tell him. “because we were more than that.” the last word comes out broken to give way to a silent sob. you try to compose yourself. “I'm sorry. don't pay attention to that.” you give him a fake smile, which you know he can see right through.

“y/n-”

“okay, i'll leave. but… come back to the compound. i'll move out if you want me to, just, don't stay away from your friends just because of me.” you go to leave, walking past him, when he grabs your arm. when you turn around there are unshed tears in his eyes.

“i don't care about the compound. or about remembering you.” oh. you widen your eyes and heavy tears leave them.

“okay, i'm- i'm sorry for suggesting-”

“no.” you nod, understanding. “no, no.” he repeats. he grabs you by the shoulders and he crouches so he's eye level with you. “i don't want to have to remember you.”

you frown.

“but, bucky-”

“but i probably should.” he cuts you off.

“yeah,” you laugh humorlessly as you cry. “you should. i'm sorry. i never should've come here. i'm sorry.”

“stop saying sorry and explain to me what the hell happened.” you tilt your head.

“i… i got jealous.”

“that's it? that's why you hurt me?” he asks. you look down. this was it. he was giving you a chance. explain yourself like you never have before, you think to yourself.

“i never got why you were with me-”

“stop saying were. this could end today, but as of now, were still together.” you purse your lips. “hey, hey, its okay.” he says softly as he puts his hands on your cheeks and wipes the tears that begin falling again with his thumbs.

“im sorry-” he looks at you pointedly. you nod. “i just… i don't understand why you're with me. im not- im nothing like you.” you begin. he frowns. “you are kind and thoughtful and amazing and im- im not good like you.”

“what? y/n, you're the best person i know.”

“you can't still think that.” he looks at you honestly. he does? “see? you're so- and i'm so…”

“lets sit down.” he tells you and you both do, on the old couch thats near the window. he gestures for you to continue.

“i just- you'll never get it. and thank god you won't. but im not- im not a natural, you know? not like you, not like her.” you fidget with your hands. “you guys, the team, you like me because i'm fake. you wouldn't if you knew the real me. but i showed it to you pretty easily, i guess.” you laugh without a trace of humor. he frowns. then, he grabs your hand and caresses your knuckles. bucky takes a deep breath before speaking.

“y/n, i like- no, scratch that. i love you because i know you.” your face contorts in pain. you start crying heavily again. “hey, hey, come on baby, talk to me.”

“i just… she's so… perfect. for everyone, for you.”

“i don't want her, i want you.”

“you cant want me after what i said to you. i hurt you and i'll never forgive myself for that.”

“yes, you hurt me. but you were hurt too, i just didn't see it.”

“im so scared you'll wake up one day and realize there is so much more to the world than… me.” you sob and cover your face with your hands.

bucky pulls your hands away from you face and pulls you into his lap.

“listen to me.” he tells you firmly. “there is nothing more to the world than you. you are it for me, y/n. i love you.”

“bucky-” you hiccup. “i'm so sorry i said that about you. i promise you i just said it to you because i- i was lashing out. anyone would accept and love you, you are literally the most amazing-” hiccup, “person-” hiccup, “in the universe.”

he smiles softly at you and the unshed tears come back, but this time, he lets them fall.

“baby, listen to me. i love you. i'm not going anywhere.” you open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it. “and i forgive you. i promise you i don't resent you. i know what it's like to lash out when you're hurt.”

“bucky-” you sob against his chest.

“shh, baby, its okay.” he soothes you, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “it's okay, i got you.”

you take a shuddering breath and lift your head from his chest to look at him. you grab his face with both your hands.

“i promise you i'll never lash out again. im so sorry. i-” he gives you a pointed look. “i know. im not saying sorry anymore. sor-” you purse you lips and he lets out a laugh. then, he shakes his head incredulous and looks at you with so much adoration in his eyes you feel like you're going to pass out from all the love you feel for this man. “can i kiss you?” you ask him shyly.

“please.”

and so you do. the kiss is soft, vulnerable, you're telling him how sorry you are, how much you love him, and thats when you remember you didn't say it.

he whines when you pull away, something that makes you smile.

“bucky,”

“yeah, baby?”

“i love you. so much i feel like i'm going to throw up.” he lets out a loud laugh.

“i love you more, doll.”

you spend the rest of the day cuddled up on that couch in that old apartment, not ready to go to the compound yet. but you do send a text to steve before turning off your phone to spend time with the love of your life. you almost lost him, but you didn't, and as you lay in that old mattress on the floor, while he makes love to you and whispers of words of adoration and devotion fill your ears, you vow to him one thing. you'll always be his.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #mcu x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes smut

527 notes · View notes

arkhammaid · 2 months

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE STRATEGY CALL

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. in which the stark racing f1 team talks about the 2025 strategy and beyond

content warnings. written in 3rd person

word count. 1.4k words

notes. with this chapter i wanted to involve a bit of politics and 'realistically' explain why stark racing won't immediately win a wdc (because with the whole set up, it would be possible). f1 are politics and no matter how many drivers say cash is king, connections have sometimes more worth

"welcome, everyone. thank you for tuning in", greets tony with a big smile on his face, spreading his arms as if going in for a hug.

"as you can see, i'm not currently with any departement, i'm doing the finishing touches in my own lab back in new york... since i don't want to drag anyone here to the US for meetings, we will proceed like this until january next year."

"now, i know it will be annoying with dragging your equipement with you and it's also unsafe, since you know... data secrets bla bla- so, in the next few days, each stark racing employee will receive the so called 'tactical intelligence glasses', which you can see me wearing. it's voice activated and can only be used by the one who sets it up, which will be you!" while speaking, tony fiddles with a pencil in his hand and starts walking around in his lab, showcasting it to every viewer.

"to cut things short, you'll receive a tutorial on how to use these glasses and set them up once you receive them. if you ever lose them, don't worry, we can track them. destroying them is pretty hard, but please don't try to make it a challange... our plan is to use them not only during meetings but also during the race, to keep our data from the cameras. with netflix, paparazzi and other cameras from the news, it's easy to steal data that shouldn't be accessible."

"alright then", he ends his ramblings with a clap, "we're going over the interesting part now. let's talk strategy..."

y/n let's her father's voice wash over her, her own glasses perched on her nose and feeding her constant information. in front of her are two holograms, projected by the hologram table in the meeting room she's currently in. the standing figure of her father and the presentation he's currently rattling off, all of it in a glowing blue.

next to her sits kevin, her future teammate, exhausted from the long 24 season but still paying attention. the rest of the room is filled with their team, the race engineers and trainers- each of them having their own glasses on.

to outsiders it looks like they're clowns, but it's a common sight in stark industries. decades ahead of the general public, stark stands for the future. of course they're trying to push it to the outer world, selling hologrammic equipement to both the industry but also private customers, but it's a slow progress.

the marketing team of SI hopes with their public use of the glasses and other devices they'll attract more customers, leaving the age of apple and samsung behind and instead welcoming the age of holograms. powered by starkanium, the production of phones, tablets, computers- anything really, is much cheaper and enviroment friendly than what's currently dominating the market.

shaking her head, y/n focuses on the presentation again. of course she knows it by heart already, she helped writing it, brooding over the strategy with the team ever since the team got announced.

"... the plan is to finish between 5th-3rd on the construction championship. not higher, not lower. we don't want to place higher, because this is our testing season. we will be practically sandbagging from the beginning, not revealing our true power for 2026."

yes... the construction championship. it will bring in money, not that they would need it, but it will justify the expenses they're going to make during the season to prepare for their second one. y/n is under no illusion, if they want, they could go all out and snag at least p2, if not p1. maybe she would even get her world championship- only then for everyone to say she won because she's driving a stark machine and not because of her own skill.

it sounds arrogant, she knows. but y/n believes, no, she doesn't only believe, she knows, she is one of the best in the whole world. if she can go against her father in an iron man suit, who can be only piloted by less than ten people in the world... winning in an f1 car is nothing.

but they've already made enemies for not waiting until 2026 like audi, 'enemies', who have much more pull within the motorsport world than them, simply because they're already established. christian horner is one, followed by toto wolff, the iconic red racing team not far behind.

with they're entry, they didn't make friends on the paddock, so for their first season... they can't be too good. or else their future seasons will be ruined.

it's stupid, to think like this, to think so far ahead, to think of others, in a sport where winning is everything. but it's not. cash and connections influence everything you do, how far you succeed. they have plenty of money, but are practically poor in connections. heck, even haas is better established than them.

they won't be, not after they're done after their first season. they will show the world, what stark racing is truly made of. and y/n will prove, that a woman can win.

"-bought data packs from previous seasons, dating back a whole decade, from mercedes and aston martin. cost a pretty penny, but data is everything. not to mention, after the big leak that happend in the middle of the season, we managed to grab enough data on all teams to calculate 3523 outcomes to this season. points, standings, anything." kevin wheezes at the number, which is followed by several data sheets. he gapes at the calculations, which predict another world championship for max 2064 times. all from the data they managed to collect.

"insane, right?", y/n whispers to kevin, who turns his head to her. his wide eyes make her snicker.

"welcome to stark racing, mate. just you wait until JARVIS and FRIDAY start feeding in new numbers and information." a muttered 'holy shit' is the only answer she gets and y/n has to snicker again. toto wolff once said something about formula one being war planning... well, he should know that stark industries and it's most brilliant minds know everything about war. be it on the market, by income or an actual alien invasion.

"we want to achieve at least one win, be it in a proper race or sprint, three podiums per driver and at least two fastest laps. and it will be possible", her father continues, pointing at a hologram of their car. it spins lazily in a circle, showing off it's aeorodynamic curves.

"this car is faster than the rb19, goes on par with the rb20. we don't know the upgrades from red bull, but another year and we can pretty much predict their stats for 2026. newey is predictable, all his upgrades point towards the perfection of the car, he focuses on what to make better and not invent something completely new. and if he does, he takes ages to prove it's better than what they had before. newey is brilliant, but he's no stark." there it is again, the facts of their rivals, taken apart and put back together to summerize their data in a few simple words.

"so, our motto for this season is testing, collecting data and improving for the next season. we're sandbagging, we're restricting ourselves. so if we ever do bad... we all know we could do much better. the engineering team will send first comparisons between the SR-1 and SR-2 out next week, y/n has already tested both cars in the sim, so we will have some data to read off."

"so, with that, we're pretty much done. thank you everyone for listening, i know for some it's very early right now, so if you have to read over the spark notes- JARVIS has put a summary of the most important information together, you'll receive the mail right after this converence. thank you again and welcome to stark racing, everyone!" claps fill the room and y/n takes off her glasses. it's exhausting to play mindgames like this, to calculate the desired outcome, but it will all come together.

hopefully, with her as a world champion, with the bold stark name on her back.

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles, @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora, @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

#f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 female driver #fem!driver #female driver #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #kevin magnussen x reader #tony stark x reader #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ lightning on track #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations

316 notes · View notes

upat4amwiththemoon · 10 months

Note

Heyy can i request a wanda x fem reader oneshot where r is the queen of a nation which is similar to Wakanda and the avengers need this nations help for something (sitting on the throne looking badass moment ) and she is graceful and so badass like: sitting at dining table uses knife to point towards empty seat, “oh. sit, please.” R has powers and helps them out. Wanda being head over heals and finally them dating. I am sorry for the long request 😭

Mother Nature

Summary: A queen so powerful, myths have been written about her. An island so mysterious, no one knows where it is.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x female!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 2505

a/n: listen…this got a little out of hand

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @sayah13 @wandsmxmff @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

Dragonstone is a volcanic island in the North Atlantic Ocean, just below Greenland and Iceland, but it’s not visible on any maps. Not many know of its existence, as the island is surrounded by such powerful magic, making it invisible to the naked eye. If anyone were to sail towards it, violent storms and currents will make even the strongest of ships sink. It has become a myth to the outsiders, an area such as the Bermuda Triangle, where everyone disappears into the nothingness. This keeps the island, and its population, in safety and peace. They have fought no wars, nor have they suffered in the hands of man made concepts.

However, the fights have started to get bigger, sometimes having the faith of the whole Universe in their hands. That much they figured out after Thanos. Which is why the Avengers know of Dragonstone, and its Queen, and how to get her help.

Everyone holds onto their seats as the Quinjet’s autopilot navigates through the dark clouds, often going through turbulence. “Are we sure this isn’t actually just some freak of nature spot? Is there anything here?” Tony grumbles as he tries to fasten his seatbelt impossibly tight. “We have very expensive cargo on board, and by that I mean me and my suit.”

“Fury seemed confident in his knowledge.” Steve reminds, slightly more calmly, though he is also nervous.

Wanda has her eyes closed. She tries to stay inside her mind, ignoring everything going around her. Air traffic has never been her favorite, but this is next level. The Quinjet does sudden dives and turns, throwing anything loose around. This is why Fury said to fasten everything to the walls and roof, but like usual, Tony didn’t take the advice to heart.

She can feel Natasha’s hand holding her own, calming her down slightly. Wanda doesn’t personally know Fury that well, but she knows Natasha thinks very highly of him, so she is pretty sure he wouldn’t lead them to their certain death. However, she can’t be sure, as this is starting to feel like a wrong way to the supposed island.

“Why couldn’t Fury come here himself? Or the Queen to us?” Kate almost shouts at a particularly violent spot.

“Because when we ask for help from royalties, we show them respect.” Steve states, his *all the younger generations have forgotten respect* personality every old person has shining through. “Did none of you learn this in Wakanda?”

No one gets to answer him, as the Quinjet starts going up, up, up full speed, making everyone yelp. After it has reached the correct altitude, it goes down headfirst. For a moment, the team is sure something has gone wrong, that they are plummeting towards their death. But right before it hits the water, the Quinjet turns the right way and continues flying forward, now in a completely calm climate.

They instantly calm down, letting out breaths of relief and relaxing their tense muscles. Natasha is the first one to get out of her seat, going to the cockpit and looking out the window. “Well, at least the island is real.” She calls out. The others start to pile up in front of the window.

At first glance, it looks like they’re flying towards a big pile of rocks, but at a closer look, they can see the rocks form big walls and even a bigger castle on the island. They’re in awe of the view. The water and air are so calm now that they’ve gotten past the barrier.

They stare out the window while the Quinjet lowers itself to the ground, right outside the walls. Once they step outside, they see two people waiting for them. “Welcome to Dragonstone!” One of them smiles. “My name is Sylvia and I’m the Queen’s advisor. And this,” she gestures to the person next to her, who is wearing an armor, “and this is Calen, they’re the head of protection in this island.”

They bow their head down as a greeting, not saying anything to the guests. The look on their face is serene and their posture is straight, like a proper soldier’s. Sylvia on the other hand shows more excitement through her body, even though her hands are behind her back, they’re still wiggling around, and the smile on her face is one that can light up a whole room.

“Thank you for granting us access to your island.” Steve speaks up, being the unofficial spokesperson when it comes to formal situations.

“Fury is an old friend of Gaia, any friend of his is a friend to us. Now, if you’d follow me, I’ll take you to the castle to meet our Queen.”

They start trekking the land towards the castle, first walking on the bare land and then moving to narrow walkways as they go inside the walls. Most of the walk goes by in silence, the team taking in their surroundings. They’ve never seen anything quite like this.

Wanda drags her hand along the stone fence, her fingers going along the bumps and ridges of it. She smiles. The magic of this island feels different than her own, but not in a threatening way, it feels like it’s dancing with her own.

Finally they get to the castle’s entrance. The huge wooden door opens inward, two other soldiers pulling it. Calen and Sylvia greet them as they go past them. “The Queen is in the throne room.” The latter tells the group, leading them through hallways before stopping in front of a door.

The door to the throne room is also wooden, but it’s a lot more decorated compared to the other ones. It’s carved from top to bottom with different pictures, making it look like a story. Calen pushes the door open, letting everyone walk through it before closing it again. At the end of the room, the Queen sits on her throne. The royal seat has been made out of purely white stone. The backside of it is tall and the sides are wide enough for the Queen to lay her arms there comfortably, but it still looks delicate.

“Gaia.” Sylvia lowers her head in respect and Calen goes down to one knee to bow. The Avengers, quite hesitantly, bow in some way too, bot sure of the island’s customs.

“There’s no need for that.” The Queen’s voice makes all of them rise. Sylvia and Calen take their respective places near the Queen, while the team stop in front of the stairs to the throne. “I hear you are friends of Nicholas Fury.”

Wanda stares at her in amazement. The way she looks so soft yet regal makes her heart pound faster than normal. She can see her chest moving up and down as she breathes, the armor like steel plate moving with it. The dark blue fabric is thick for colder weathers, but flowy enough to move easily. Wanda’s eyes move up to the top of her head. The crown on her head looks like it’s made out of steel as well. It makes her look sharp and strong. She looks majestic sitting on her throne.

“We are,” Steve smiles, “thank you for agreeing to meet us, your Highness.”

“Please, Y/N.” She states. “That’s the name my mother gave me.”

“Y/N. I’m sure you’re aware of a recently defeated threat from space called Thanos.” He continues once she nods, “unfortunately the other worldly threats don’t stop there. We’d like to ask your help to prevent these kind of attacks more efficiently.”

“Certainly.”

Wanda shudders from the way Y/N says the word. Her pronunciation, the slight rasp of her voice and how she rolls the letter r, make her feel dizzy. She is sure the look on her face is stupid, and lovestruck, her eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. The whole conversation going on is going past her. Only thing in her mind right now is something she really shouldn’t be thinking about, but she just can’t stop herself.

“Would you give me the honor of joining me for dinner today? We even have enough guest rooms if you wish to rest before your trip back to America.”

“We would be honored to join you.” Natasha answers. She has been glancing at Wanda during the conversation with a grin on her face, she can read her face easily, knowing what the witch is fantasizing about.

The Queen stands up, her dress falling perfectly to her feet. “I’m glad to hear that. I shall see you in the dining room in an hour, in the mean while, Sylvia will show you where you can refresh yourselves.” Sylvia nods and gestures for them to follow her. Wanda keeps her eyes on Y/N as she walks away, noticing a small smile growing on her face.

After an hour, the Avengers gather into the dining room by Sylvia’s lead, where Y/N is already waiting for them. “Gaia.” Sylvia says before leaving the room.

Y/N stands up, pointing towards the empty chairs. “Please, sit.” She says with a smile, sitting down once again when they get around the table. Wanda sits next to her. She can see the small details of her breast plate from this close.

The table is already fully catered with different foods and desserts. It works like a buffet, everyone takes what they like to their plates. “Can I ask you,” Wanda starts when her plate is full, “why do they call you Gaia, if your name is Y/N?”

“Gaia is a title of sorts. Every queen before me was called that as well, because we keep this island alive and safe. It means Mother Nature.” She explains with a gentle smile on her face, holding eye contact with Wanda as she talks to her. “It is an honor to be called Gaia.” Wanda nods, not able to look away from her stormy eyes.

“How does the next queen get chosen?” Tony asks.

“It’s more faith than decision making,” she pauses, looking for best words to describe how their queens get their role, “we’re born to it, but not in a traditional sense. We are born from the previous Gaia, they mold us from magic.”

“So, there’s no…” he moves his fingers around in a promiscuous manner, which makes Steve look at him disapprovingly. They’re in front of the Queen after all.

But she only finds the situation amusing. “No. Children born in a traditional way are random, and our queens need to be precise. They’re all women and they all have powers. They need to be born from magic.”

Although they don’t really understand the process, and none of them want to ask about the specifics of it, they still find it fascinating. It’s a whole new country with completely different customs compared to theirs. Wanda especially listens to her intently. Her smooth voice practically drilling its way into her brain.

“Can the queen have relationships? Even if they don’t have any part on the next generation of rulers.” The question makes Wanda’s head snap to look at Natasha, who has a wide grin on her face.

“Yes. There are no rules on relationship. The partner just has to know they have no rule over the island.”

Satisfied with the answer, Natasha nods, sending a discreet wink towards Wanda. Her cheeks turn a shade of pink. She tries to hide it by eating the food.

They keep a light conversation going while they all finish their food. Once the plates are empty and the stomachs full, they start leaving the table and go to their rooms. The Queen doing the same. However, she isn’t alone for long.

There’s a knock on her bedroom door.

“Hello, Wanda.” Y/N smiles, the door now open wide. “Would you like to come in?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Wanda steps into the room, the door closing after her. She looks around the room, trying to keep her eyes off of Y/N’s thin night gown. A big bed is in the middle of the room, it has light blue veil over it and a white fur on top. A window, almost the size of the wall, is on the right side of it, but it’s already covered with dark curtains. Otherwise the room is quite plain. A wooden dresser. Mirror with steel decorations. What catches Wanda’s eyes are the tapestries on the walls. They’re bright and colorful, each one having its own story. “Beautiful.” She mumbles.

“They tell our history.” Y/N steps beside her. “Every queen makes one. These are the oldest ones, the rest are in the library, visible for everyone. One day mine will be there too.” She sounds proud when she speaks of her ancestors.

“Your mother, is she still alive?”

“No. The crown passed down to me when I was thirteen.”

“I’m sorry.”

Y/N turns to her with a smile. “Nothing to be sorry about. She’s with her mother and grandmother, and so on. And one day I will see her again, until then, I will make her proud by keeping the people on this island safe.”

However beautiful the idea is, Wanda still feels sad for her. She knows what it’s like to lose your mother young. But she doesn’t comment on it more, clearly it’s not something appropriate to discuss now. “The magic. It feels different here.”

“Yes, it’s not the same as yours. The magic is part of me as much as it is a part of the island. We’re connected. We can sense each other. I can control it and it can influence me.”

“That’s why they call you Mother Nature?”

“Sort of. There’s a long history there. But yes, my ability to control the sea and the air around us is a part of it.”

“Maybe you’ll be able to tell me some day.”

Her smile widens. “Maybe.”

Wanda smiles too. She notices how Y/N’s eyes twinkle in the dim light, as if they had their own light source. “You’re beautiful.” The words stumble out of her mouth. She had no intention on making any mind of move this soon, but she couldn’t help it. This felt like a right moment.

With a small giggle, Y/N looks down, trying to cover her warming cheeks. She doesn’t usually get nervous, but Wanda sounded so sincere. “I’m flattered you think so.”

“Do you think you could go on a date with me? Later, of course. Do you have any rules on that?” The nervousness starts growing at the bottom of her stomach again, the lapse of confidence leaving her body quickly.

“There are some rules, but nothing major. I could definitely go on a date with you, I’d actually really like to do so.”

Letting out a breath, Wanda nods. Her hands are moving her rings around. “Great. I- uhm, that’s great.” She laughs quietly. “I’ll leave you now. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.” Y/N gives her a small wave, smiling widely even after the door closes.

902 notes · View notes

ziggyzolch · 19 days

Text

Headache Ⅳ (Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

Summary: You're bored and Tony won't let you leave the building unless you bring a babysitter with you. Warnings: ig kinda mean wanda Previous Part

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

❅❅❅

A week with the avengers and you’re already bored. They haven’t let you go on missions or leave the building yet, so you’ve been relying on your friends’ class notes. All you’ve been doing is training, studying, playing video games, and attempting to prank Wanda. She was always one step ahead of you. Scaring you before you could jump out the corner to scare her, using her powers to flip the bucket of ice water and making you spill it all over yourself, and worse of all, predicting the punchline of your jokes before you could get to them.

You learned of her mind reading capabilities when you called her stupid in your head and she rid you of your blanket privileges. She was super sensitive to lame insults, you noticed. It was either that or shoving you against walls was just enjoyable to her.

The one time she was tolerable was during your occasional drinking nights with Peter, and sometimes Pietro. She was touchy, but not mean. Kind of. Last night was one of those nights, and Wanda had gotten the most wasted out of all of you, leading you to call it a night a little earlier.

You wake up to a gentle pushing on your cheek. Peaking an eye open, you break into a smile at the sight of your cat. “Hey, little buddy” You whisper to him, adjusting your position on the floor. He meows back, continuing to paw at you. Pain pierces through your head when you push yourself off the floor. You probably shouldn’t have drunk half your weight in vodka.

A groan comes from the bed in the corner of the room when the chair you were using you hold yourself up creaks loudly. Your eyes widen when you see Wanda gagging with her upper half leaning off the bed. Rushing to get the bin, you speed towards her, placing the trash can under her before she could puke all over her floor. Wanda clutches the bin while you hold her hair back.

“Let it all out.” You attempt to comfort her while your own head’s spinning. She groans after emptying the contents of her stomach, rolling onto her back.

“I’m never drinking again.” Wanda groans while you laugh, taking the bin to the bathroom and dumping its contents into the toilet.

“Do we have training today?” You peek your head out of the bathroom while washing your hands.

“No practice on Saturdays.” She finally gets up, walking towards you.

You’re brushing your teeth as she looks in the mirror, fixing her hair. Spitting the toothpaste out, you ask, “Can I leave the building yet?”

She shrugs, making eye contact with you through the mirror, “You’re gonna have to ask Steve or Tony.”

You groan. Becca has been on your ass about your whereabouts the past 7 days, and you’re running out of excuses. Also, you missed her. The team is great, but you’ve only known them for a week. Plus, you’d rather not cross paths with Steve again. He’s lectured you more times than you could count.

Finishing up, you wash your face and leave Wanda to do her business. You bend down to take out a random black camisole and sweatpants out of your bag and place them on the desk, back cracking as you straightened back up. Wanda refused to let you keep your clothes in her closet, so you had to make do until you got your own room.

You didn’t really know where you stood with her, you hadn’t fully warmed up to each other yet. She still hasn’t let you sleep on the couch. Even drunk, she pushed you to the floor when she caught you falling asleep on her sacred sofa. You couldn’t be assed to argue at the time, but as you're twisting and turning your torso, attempting to rid the pain in your back, you wish you did.

Walking to the nightstand, you check the time on Wanda’s phone. She confiscated yours as a ‘security protocol’, but you think she just wanted to fuck with you. Ignoring the feeling of eyes on you, you sigh and lift your shirt over your head, groaning when you realize you left your clothes on the desk. When you turn, you find Wanda standing outside the bathroom. She looks you up and down, smirking at your blush as you walk to get your clothes.

“Uh, can you turn around?” You curl into yourself, attempting to cover up your body.

The brunette rolls her eyes, “This is my room, you can’t tell me what to do.”

Your blush deepens, “You can’t be serious.”

Wanda doesn’t move from her spot, shrugging. You groan and leave the room, closing the door behind you and taking off your pants. You’re mumbling curses under your breath when a gasp catches your attention. Peter and Natasha are standing at the end of the hallway. The former with his hand over his eyes, a deep blush covering his face. Natasha smirks as she drags Peter by his arm, walking past you and turning a corner. Sighing, you lean against the door, pulling up your pants when suddenly you’re falling forward.

Wanda looks down at you, flat on your face with your pants halfway up. “Fucking bit-”

You don’t even get to finish before you’re being lifted and pushed into a wall. “I dare you to finish that sentence.”

“Why are you always abusing me?” You pout, attempting to turn around and look at her when she pushes your face further into the wall.

“Apologize.” She grits out.

You’re about to retort when you remember you have to talk to Tony. Reluctantly, you mumble out an apology and Wanda turns you around to face her, smirking, “Good girl.”

She pulls your pants up, tapping your reddened cheek and walking back into her room.

What the fuck.

❅❅❅

“Come in!” You push past the door of Tony’s lab, taking in all the machines and holograms around the room. You hadn’t actually gotten a chance to get a good look at everything during your failed heist. “What’s up?” Tony turns to you, blowtorch in hand. Eyes widening, you slowly back up, “Uh, I just wanted to ask if I could leave the building-”

“Nope.”

“What! Why?”

“You’re not exactly the most trustworthy person.”

“Untrue! I saw Peter pick his nose once and I haven’t told anyone!”

“You literally just told me.”

“Please!”

You grab Tony’s shoulders, moving him back and forth and pleading, voice raising in pitch.

He groans, grabbing both your wrists, “Jesus, Fine.”

“Yes!”

“But you have to bring Wanda with you.”

Your face drops, “Peter can come with me.”

Tony shakes his head, “He wouldn’t be able to catch you if you ran, plus you’re all buddy-buddy with him.”

“Okay, fine, but on one condition,”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Can you get me an automatic cat food dispenser, or install one, or hire someone to feed my cat.”

He laughs, “Don’t let Steve find your cat, and sure.”

You internally celebrate, rushing out and back towards Wanda’s room. “Hey, Wanda-” Pushing open the door, you catch the witch sitting on the couch with you laptop on her lap. You grab your laptop and place it in your backpack before she could blink.

One hand on your hip, you stare at her, waiting for an explanation. After a beat of silence, you finally ask, “What were you doing on my laptop?”

Wanda’s eyes dart around the room, looking everywhere but you, mumbling something under her breath.

“What?”

“I wanted to play the game I saw you playing earlier.”

You tilt your head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion before she groans, “The one where you fight zombies and stuff.”

“Resident evil?”

“Not that one.”

“Call of duty?”

“No!”

“Left for dead?”

“No it was like, ugh I don’t know! Like, it had skeletons and I saw a pig.”

Your eyes light up in realization, “Minecraft?”

Wanda slaps her hands together, “That’s the one!”

You laugh, shaking your head and moving towards your bag to take out cat food. “I’ll let you play, if you come out with me tonight.”

Your cat approaches you when he hears the bag rustle, and you exit the room for a second to pour the food in his bowl. Wanda refused to let you keep the litter box and food bowl in her room, which was fair.

You walk back in, finding Wanda wide-eyed on the couch, “Like, on a date?”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “No! Nothing like that. Tony said I could go out if you came as a babysitter.”

Wanda deflates, “Oh, sure yeah.”

You take your laptop out again, moving to take a seat next to Wanda. You’re explaining how the game works when you get an email from your roommate and best friend, Becca, jokingly asking if you’re gonna bail on the hangout. You quickly type out a reply, ‘im coming. bringing a friend,’ You pause for a moment before continuing, ‘best regards.’

Wanda’s lips tilt upwards at you considering her a friend despite her behavior towards you. “Why is she emailing you?” You raise an eyebrow, “You took my phone. Remember?” Her mouth forms an ‘O’ shape before reaching her hand behind the couch cushions, bringing your phone up and handing you it. You snatch your phone from her hand, rolling your eyes. “Asshole,” You stiffen, only relaxing when you realize Wanda hadn’t heard, “Uhm, okay, so you make these tools…”

Wanda was horrible. It took her an hour and a half to finally get used to the walking controls and crafting, kind of. “This is a stupid game.” She whines as the respawn screen pops up for the millionth time. Glancing at the corner of the screen, you curse as you jump up. “We need to get ready. Can you call Peter and ask him if he’s busy?”

You change your clothes, not caring about Wanda seeing you. She had already seen you in your underwear so there was no point.

Wanda hums, makes no move to pick up her phone.

You roll your eyes when you catch her staring, “Can you stop being a creep and call Peter. Invite Pietro if you want.”

“Fine.”

❅❅❅

The silhouettes of your friends become clearer as you approach the location on your phone. Wanda’s bows furrow when she sees that it's an abandoned construction site, awkwardly parking the car. You and Peter rush out of the car, excitedly hugging your friends. Peter had invited Ned and MJ, while you had Becca. The twins weren’t as popular as the rest of the avengers, so you didn’t worry about your friends recognizing them. Wanda and Pietro stepped out of the vehicle and approached your group.

“Guys! This is Wanda, and this is her brother, Pietro.”

Exchanging pleasantries, you all start walking towards the building. Wanda turns towards you, “Why are we here? Is this just your normal hangout spot-” Her eyes widen when you shush her, placing a finger on her lips, “All will be revealed, little witch.”

You were all sat in a circle inside the abandoned building, the flashlights of your phones illuminating the room. Ned and Becca sat on either side of you, with the twins, Peter and MJ sat across. “Silence!” You clap your hands together, continuing when everybody turns their attention towards you, “Rumor has it, this building was the site of satanic…occult? Cult? Whatever, you get me. Rituals!”

Wanda smiles in amusement, winking when you make eye contact.

“Uhm, okay. Uh,” Becca tilts her head at your blush, “Anyways! We will be contacting the spirits present here.”

Becca chimes in, lifting a bottle of water, “I brought holy water with me!”

You and her planned this thing together, and holy water was never mentioned. Taking the bottle from her, you pop open the cap and take a sip. Becca laughs when you attempt to stop yourself from making a face, “Wow, okay. Glad you brought vodka to a fucking demon ritual.”

Ignoring you, Becca takes out a ouija board from her bag and places it in the middle of the circle. Wanda’s eyes light up as she turns towards her brother.

“Alright, everybody put your hands on the pointer thing.” You say while placing your hands first, everybody following after you. “Spirits, ghosts, beings, entities, and everything else, if you are here, move the…puck thing.” Becca is about to laugh when suddenly the pointer moves towards ‘yes’. Peter looks around, wide eyed, while Wanda and Pietro are oddly calm. “Uhm, okay uh. Jesus.” You wipe the sweat off your forehead, “Are you evil?” Everybody gasps as it circles around ‘yes’. Quinn pushes on your shoulder, “Can we stop?” You roll your eyes, “No. Alright, what’s my name?” You all look in confusion when it moves to the wrong letters. You read them out,

“H-E-I-S-E-N-B-E-R-G? Heisenberg.”

Peter, Ned, and Becca all break out into laughter, removing their hands from the board while you and the rest look at each other in confusion until Becca explains the reference.

Becca gasps, “Weren’t we supposed to say goodbye before we took our hands off-” The phone lights flicker, and a banging sounds behind you. You screech, jumping into Becca’s arms, “What the fuck!” You tuck your head into her neck when the lights flicker again. Your friend wraps her arms around you in an iron grip, just as scared as you. You don’t catch the red mist dissipating off the board.

The banging stops, and the lights don’t flicker. You detach yourself from your friend, standing up. MJ slaps her hands on her thighs before getting up, “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” You all agree, turning to rush out of the building. Every little sound was making you jump as you exited the building. Wanda sneaks up behind you,

“Boo-”

A blood curdling scream comes out of you as you turn, your hand clutching at your heart. Your glare does nothing to the witch. Wanda fakes a look of pity as she pulls you into a hug, “Aw, are you scared? I’ll protect you, baby.”

“You literally are the reason I’m scared!” You whine, lightly shoving her off of you. For the rest of the night, you were attached to at least one person from the group. Wanda was growing irritated watching you hang on to everyone's arm except hers, and everybody could tell. Becca was holding onto your hand when she caught a glimpse of Wanda, jealousy radiating off of her.

She gave her a knowing look, “My hands are getting sweaty, hold someone else’s hand.” She shakes you off of him, ignoring your whine and pushing you towards Wanda. You didn’t want to hold onto her since all she did until now was torment and scare you, but everybody else already got a turn.

Wanda beams when you hold onto her arm, smiling when Becca shoots her a wink. She blushes when she feels you squeezing her bicep.

After getting burgers and circling the area for a while, you land back at Wanda’s car. MJ and Peter continue the path alone as Ned bids everyone a goodbye.

“Hey!” Becca approaches you, “You coming back? I know you have that thing with your grandma but I miss your company.”

Deflating a little, you shake your head, “Not for a while, I’m sorry.” She was your best friend, your laptop wallpaper was a picture of her, “I’ll tell you if I do, though.” You add.

She leans in to kiss your cheek, “Alright. Stop ignoring my texts, at least.”

Your eyes stay on her as she walks away, slightly frowning. Wanda wraps her arm around your shoulder, ushering you to the back seat. “I miss my life.” You sigh, leaning against the window as Pietro and Wanda enter the car. She looks at you from the rearview window, “You’ll get used to it.”

Pietro twists his body to turn towards you, “Who knows, maybe you’ll get to go back to your dorm in like a couple months.”

“Maybe.” You pick at your cuticles. A couple months. Here. You could do that.

Just a couple of months.

❅❅❅

Next part

A/N: my new fic is depressing so i figured id update this cute little one, thank you for reading!

Comment if you wanna get added to the tag list.

Tags : @sgm616

#marvel #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #the scarlet witch #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch x reader #wlw #reader #x reader #sapphic #fanfiction #fanfic

185 notes · View notes

garciaasfluffypen · 1 month

Text

for she is mesmerized

r is very proudly of polish descent. what wanda doesn’t know, is that r can speak fluent polish and wow, is it hot in here or is it just her?

pairing: wanda maximoff x f!reader word count: 1.9k warnings: use of y/n, female leaning terms of endearment, wanda’s falling in love with you but refuses to admit she has feelings (#emo), mentions of wanda having nightmares, mention of y/n's family dying (no description), small descriptions of looks (reader has wavy hair, no color used), reader and wanda are both 19-20 years old

a/n: hello besties, wanda phase!melly is back (everyone say thank you wandasaura!!!). i'm not used to writing for wanda so her characterization *may* be a little bit off, but i'm excited to try and step into her shoes! also, please don't get mad at me if the polish translations are off i literally speak zero polish but wanted to use it because i'm polish and thought it would be cool.

translations of the polish used will be at the end of the post!

if you’ve ever heard of the avengers, chances are you’ve heard of the hiena. she hailed from poland, and made it very clear she had no intentions of succumbing to silly american traditions (except for halloween and christmas, since pepper made her fall in love with decorating the tree in the lobby of avengers tower and she loved the idea of halloween since she was a kid). there was very little that y/n shared about herself, but if she could tell the avengers about her homeland and how much her traditions meant to her, she’d do it. her polishness was something y/n kept close to her chest considering she moved away from home a few years ago after a big explosion killed her whole family. there were things about y/n that wanda wanted to know like she knew the back of her hand. things that only y/n could tell wanda in the solace of her company, when the rest of the avengers had gone to sleep and it was just them two in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to heat up.

it was probably why wanda started falling in love with her.

well, wanda wasn’t sure she’d call it love, per se. the slovakian had been a recluse since she first arrived, especially after watching pietro sacrifice himself for the greater good. her feelings had pretty much been turned off since the moment tony gave her the pin to her room. and while the others didn’t understand her need to be alone sometimes, y/n did. wanda appreciated the space she gave her, but sometimes wished that she could get a little bit closer to her. she wanted someone here she could rely on. while she had that in natasha, she couldn’t find herself ever knocking on her door in the middle of the night when the nightmares plagued her. natasha had made it clear that she would be there for her no matter what, but if she were being honest, she was still a little intimidated by the red head. everyone had their stories, and wanda knew she would learn about them in due time. but the one story she wanted to learn was hers.

y/n was very different from her hiena counterpart. while her avenger-sona - as wanda liked to call it - was very in your face and i won’t take your bullshit, y/n was almost the opposite. she was very much not confrontational, she would tend to sink away when faced with the opportunity to face a problem in the tower head on. she was quieter than one would think, staying towards the back or opting to stay in with pepper and bruce while everyone else went our for drinks and dancing after big missions. it was enamoring how much she changed as soon as the grey and white suit came off and y/n could be herself. wanda always watched her from a distance, never getting too close for comfort. trying to catch her walking down the halls or watching her relax in the library curled up with a book. the way her wavy hair framed her face in the lowlight of the fireplace always had wanda mesmerized. how could someone with so much pent up anger look so angelic without even trying?

wanda’s phone buzzed with a reminder that read “weekly avengers meeting, 2pm”, which meant she had to leave the solace of her bedroom. with a sigh, she wrapped her cardigan around her midsection before slipping on her shoes and making her way into the hall towards the elevators. the doors opened on the third floor where all the meeting rooms were, leaving her to shrink further into her cardigan and keep her head down as she walked through the halls and past all the closed office doors. as usual, thor was jaunting on about some crazy story, probably fabricating some of the details to make the girls he was talking to flaunt over him more than they already were. natasha, who was standing a few feet away at the vending machine, simply rolled her eyes and grabbed the bottle of mountain dew from the bottom before continuing down the hall.

as wanda made her way down the hallway, she passed a room with a singular person in it. you. hiena. she had to force herself not to trip over her own two feet as she peered through the crack in the door, biting her thumb nervously as if you knew she was there. wanda had to force herself to look away from you and step out of the way as you paced the room, fearing that you’d see her and know she was eavesdropping. should she be eavesdropping? not at all. she was still so new to the team, she had a reputation to upkeep. but there was something about hearing you talk in your home language so professionally that had her stopping in her tracks.

it almost reminded her of home.

“przepraszam, nie rozumiem.” you sighed. “nie uważasz, że lepiej byłoby-” you got cut off, sighing angrily. “wiem, co masz na myśli, ale nie do końca się z tobą zgadzam.” another moment of silence. “dobrze. porozmawiam z tony'm.”

you hung up your phone and wanda sprung into action, running away from the door and acting like she didn’t just listen to half of your conversation despite the fact that she understood only one word. she waited a moment before walking down the hallway, pretending that she just happened to pass the room you were in at that very second.

“wanda!” your polish accent was shining through. “you’ve been settling in okay, i hope?”

“as good as i can,” she started. “it’s um.. a change.”

you nodded. “i can understand that. it was a lot for me too. you heading to the meeting?”

“yeah uh, yeah.” wanda nodded.

“can i walk with you? that way you don’t have to go in alone, i know the first avengers meeting can be a bit weird with everyone staring at you.”

wanda had to stop herself from buckling at the knees.

“that’s very sweet of you.” wanda smiled. “thank you.”

“of course.” you gave wanda a half smile. “come on, tony doesn’t like it when we’re late.”

wanda smiled as the two of you started walking down the hallway together. she had to fight every urge in her body to stop her hand from brushing up against yours as you walked towards the meeting room together.

as for you, you could practically feel the admiration radiating off of wanda. you had found it quite cute how she always seemed to be watching you do your mundane little tasks. it might have been the reason you found yourself leaving the comfort of your room more and more lately, trying to catch a glimpse of the younger girl. wanda was young, yet she had been through so much. she was handling it with so much grace and composure, you were surprised you hadn’t heard her break down into tears yet as you walked past her room every night. there was the chance she had magick-ed the walls, yes, but you knew from experience you could only hold things in for so long before the dam burst. it was how you and bruce bonded when you first joined the avengers. he had found you in the midst of a breakdown and from then on became your father figure- more so than tony, who was the one who took you under his wing in the first place. granted, tony was… well, tony. there was only so much you could get out of him before he started acting weird about it.

the meeting went off by without any issues, mainly going over and debriefing the last mission you went on and attempting to tip toe around talking about the battle of sokovia, considering the wound was still pretty fresh for wanda. paperwork was signed, reports were filed and you were ready to get out of there. the weekly meetings were very tiresome, you hated talking over the strategy side of things. you always had an itch to keep moving and doing things when it came to things like this. even in high school, before everything went to shit, you would always look forward to the end of the day so you could go run on the track for a few hours before heading home. bruce had gotten you some fidget toys, saying something about how they’d help, but they only do so much when all you want to do is move around.

the need to be moving all the time was partly why you named yourself after hyenas. not only did your powers give you heightened hearing, the strength you found while training with natasha made you feel as fierce as one of them. the avengers were almost like your pack, even though you could never consider yourself the leader. you had been under tony’s wing for a few years now, and almost considered them family. almost. nothing would or ever could replace the family you had left behind in poland. you talked to them constantly, trying to keep in touch with them as much as you could to make sure they were doing okay after everything that had happened. it pained you to think that they would have been gone if you hadn’t grown into your powers sooner.

“alright, meeting adjourned!" tony’s clap shook you out of your thoughts. “i’ll be in my office if you need me. but don’t need me, actually, i have a lot of things to do today.”

pepper rolled her eyes. “i’ll be readily available if anyone needs anything. you all know you can come into my office whenever.”

“thank you, pepper.” wanda’s voice was quieter than it was earlier.

“of course, sweetheart.”

everyone dispersed relatively quickly, leaving you and wanda alone in the room. thankfully pepper got the memo to close the door behind her, giving you two a barrier from the outside world.

“are you okay?”

“hm? oh um… yeah. i’m…”

“i lost my parents too. a few years ago.”

“i’m sorry.”

“don’t be. shit happens, you know?” you chuckled dryly. “i guess what i’m trying to say is, if you need anything… my door is always open.”

you could have sworn a smile cracked on wanda’s face. “thank you.”

“it’s okay if you’re not okay, yet.” you looked over to her. “i have to remind myself of that every day. i’m still not okay. the independence i got from my family…” you paused. “i could have saved them if i was there.”

wanda reached over and squeezed your hand sympathetically. “there are a lot of things that we could have done differently. we can’t dwell on it.”

“you sound like natasha.” a small smile formed on your face.

“i might have picked up a little bit from her.” she smiled back. “she’s very smart.”

“that she is.” you glanced at the time on your phone. “do you want some lunch? i made perogis and rosół yesterday.”

“perogis sound good. what is ro…”

“rosół? it's a soup from poland. my mom made it for me and my cousins when we were little. a lot of the time when we were sick, but it’s still good even when you’re well.”

“that sounds good too.”

“then it's settled. lunch time, on the house.” you slapped your knees and stood up. “you coming?”

“let’s do it.”

TRANSLATIONS: przepraszam, nie rozumiem- sorry, i don't understand nie uważasz, że lepiej byłoby- don't you think it would be better to // wiem, co masz na myśli, ale nie do końca się z tobą zgadzam- i know what you mean but i don't fully understand // dobrze. porozmawiam z tony'm - fine. i will talk to tony // rosół- a traditional polish soup very closely aligned with chicken soup! typically made with some sort of meat, broth and other garnishings. *thank you to tynix for letting me know i was using the wrong translation of "fine"!

#moja żabko universe #wanda maximoff #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #mcu fanfiction

192 notes · View notes

book-place · 5 months

Text

The Avoiding Act

Warnings: unhealthy studying methods, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Avengers x reader platonic

Request: Hey! Can you do MCU x Teen!reader, whose been feeling stressed out lately (I have exams coming up) and she also struggles with mental health. She constantly avoids the team because she knows they'll tell her to sit down and take a break, but one day they forcefully make her sit down and talk to them, and they're all telling her to take it easy and that they believe in her or something, and she's starts tearing up because she's never had anyone tell her reassuring things before she met the team, and one of them (preferably Bucky, Loki, Tony, or Steve) just hugs them? And like they end up watching Disney movies or something, and she falls asleep on Tony or Steve? Thank you!

Requested by: @wolfmoonmusic

*not my gif*

Summary: Your team hasn’t really seen you in over a week, and they start to grow worried

A/N: This isn’t my best work- but I don’t think it’s too bad; also I wrote this forever ago and just forgot to publish it

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

You practically had it down to a point by now. You had memorized your entire team's schedule in such a way that you could avoid them perfectly.

Steve was using the training levels at exactly 5:05 every morning, being the first one up- besides you. That was easy, just avoid all of the workout rooms. Bucky was sometimes up at that time as well, but he just stayed in his room.

Up next was Nat and Bruce. Nat would start off her day on the balcony of either her room or the one connected to the living room. Bruce would make a beeline for his lab right away and hide in there for a while. So naturally, you just skipped out on all three of those places.

That’s when it got complicated. The late sleepers were Sam, Tony, and Clint. Meaning, their schedules were unpredictable. But that was only in the sense that you didn’t know which time they would get up. All three of them would head straight to the kitchen as soon as they got up though, so all you had to do was make sure that you weren’t in there any later than 10:00.

That left your room, which you never stayed in because then they would be able to find you, and any other of the many empty rooms left in Avengers Tower.

Some might call you paranoid, but you made sure to switch rooms every two hours, that way you weren’t in one place long enough for them to find you there.

The reason you were avoiding your team?

It wasn’t becuase you didn’t want to see them or loved them dearly, it was simply becuase you needed to study.

To outsiders, that would seem like a weird reason to be hiding from your loved ones, but not when it came to you.

When you studied, you studied.

You hardly ever took breaks- not even to eat and sleep.

And if your team knew this, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that they would try to make you take a break. To take care of yourself.

You couldn’t have that happening, the biggest exam of the year was in three days and taking a break was not an option.

It was a day like any other in the past week, you were in a random conference room on the seventh floor, going on the eighth day without seeing your team for more than five minutes a day.

Like normal, you were hunched over a textbook, eyes sweeping back and forth along the pages as you eagerly tried to take in any bit of knowledge you could come upon.

It was well past dinner- not that you had eaten other than a granola bar early in the morning before the late risers made it to the kitchen- and your team, six floors up, were sitting around one of the many living rooms.

“So you’re telling me that nobody saw Y/N today?” Steve asked, standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows creased with worry.

Clint and Sam shook their heads in sync from their respective positions on the couch in front of him. Bucky, who was leaning up against a wall with his arms crossed, repeated the gesture.

Nat and Tony both let out identical signs at this, the redhead running a hand through her hair.

“It’s been like this all week,” Bruce spoke up, concern lacing his tone, “I’ve hardly seen her for more than two minutes a day. Whenever I try to find her- she’s not anywhere I’d think she would be.”

“Same,” Natasha piped up, “It’s almost like she’s avoiding us.”

“You don’t think… she’s actually avoiding us, do you?” Sam asked, leaning forward in his seat.

Steve ran a hand down his face and sighed, “Why would she avoid us, though?”

Even Tony had the decency not to interject with one of his normal, snide comments. Instead, he announced, “JARVIS, tell me where she is.”

The team's eyes all widened in sync, clearly none of them had once thought of using the AI system to find you.

Instead of boasting about how he was just smarter than they were like Tony normally would, he just kept his lips in a thin, closed line and awaited the answer.

“Miss. L/N is currently occupying conference room number seventy two, on the sixth floor.” JARVIS’s voice rang out through the room, and everyone was on their feet in an instance.

Within the last week, every one of them had gone out of their way to try and look for you, never knowing where you were or if you were alright.

The door to your study room flew open and you let out a small yelp of surprise, jumping at the unanticipated arrival of every member of your team.

It was silent for a moment after they all pushed and shoved past each other to stumble into the room, as you all just stared at each other.

“O-oh, hey guys,” You stuttered, letting out a small, nervous chuckle, “What’re you doing here?”

“Why’ve you been avoiding us?” Sam blurted out without answering your question.

Multiple people face palmed and let out slight groans at his bluntness. Bucky- who was standing closest to him- slapped him upside the head. With his metal hand.

That had to hurt.

The question immediately made you defensive, and you crossed your arms, visually crawling back into your shell.

“I’m not avoiding you,” The words weren’t as firm as you would’ve liked.

“No?” Tony asked with a singular raised eyebrow, “Then why have we only seen you for five minutes in total this week?”

You shrugged, “I’ve been busy!”

“Busy doing what?” Clint prompted.

That was when you fell silent.

Your team didn’t say anything, though. They just kept staring, awaiting your reply.

The silence dragged and dragged, suffocating the room and everyone in it until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Studying,” You finally said softly.

Another silence followed, but this one was broken by Bruce, “And how many breaks have you taken to take care of yourself?”

They all knew you so well, they knew what your study habits were like. How unhealthy they were.

You shrugged stiffly, moving your eyes to face anywhere but where they stood.

“N/n,” Nat sighed, moving over to you, “You need to take care of yourself. This isn’t healthy.”

Steve moved up beside her, watching as you still avoided looking at any of them, tears filling your eyes, “We only say this because we care about you.”

His words were what finally made the first tear slip down your face.

“I know,” You whispered.

With a sigh, Steve opened his arms and wrapped them around you in a much needed hug.

Almost instantly, you broke down, relaxing in his arms and crying and crying until there were no tears left.

Someone from around you gently moved a piece of hair out of your face and someone else rubbed your back comfortingly.

When you finally opened your eyes, you were surrounded by your team- the people that cared for you more than anyone- who all wore soft expressions.

“Let’s take a break,” Steve whispered, stopping down to place a kiss on the top of your head, “You deserve it.”

Sniffling slightly, you nodded and allowed your team to lead you away and to one of the living rooms.

Tony had announced that you would all be having a movie night and you would be the one to pick what to watch.

Normally, there would be a lot fighting and bickering about what movie- but nobody said a word this time.

Some went off to get snacks- others getting blankets- as you all spread out around the room comfortably.

You ended up between Steve and Nat on the couch, the ladder absentmindedly running her fingers through your hair whilst you picked what you wanted to watch.

In the end, you settled on an old Disney classic, and we’re able to settle in while the opening music began to play.

“Thank you, guys.” You said softly to the room, truly meaning it.

“No need to thank us, n/n. We’re here for you. No matter what.” Steve said from beside you.

By the time the credits rolled around, you were fast asleep, breathing steadily with your head resting against Steve’s shoulder.

Said man smiled down softly at you, making sure to keep his movements to a minimum as you got some much needed sleep, surrounded by your loved ones.

We are Groot 🤎- @lovanitu @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @irethepotato @femalemarvelself @mukbee @its-hell @ip747 @i-writes-things @popfishjr @mitsuki-murakami @mythixmagic @toecrust69 @etanordoesbullsh1t @wolfmoonmusic @nutellani @hyunzrii @scarthefangirl

345 notes · View notes

ynscrazylife · 21 days

Note

You know what I really miss? Avengers x teen!reader headcanons, there use to be so much avengers content and practically dominated tumblr🥲

It would totally make my WEEK if you would make some classic mcu avengers(before infinity war) x teen!reader x Peter Parker(romantic) headcanons just about reader having powers and what it’s like living with the avengers 💕

-possible your new 👾anon?

let’s do this 💪 and YES you’ll be my first emoji anon!! @ anyone else, feel free to claim ur emoji!!

avengers x teen!reader headcanons

The Avengers are definitely reluctant to add another teenager to the team. Having Peter is great but has been a big adjustment, as they had to train him and protect him, less they face the wrath of Aunt May.

However, you were a compelling case, with your extensive abilities. You didn’t have many other options as to where to go and you hit it off with Peter right off the bat, working very well together as a pair. So, they took you in.

Tony worked with you on designs for your suit, Natasha and Steve trained you in combat (which meant you were going on morning runs with Steve and Sam. How fun . . . Though Sam could be convinced to give you piggy back rides, and you became Clint’s personal arrow-picker-upper. If you had powers, Wanda would definitely help you manage them.

Peter was naturally in tune to science, which meant you hung around the lab with him and Bruce a lot. It became a nice time to get your homework done, as Bruce would definitely help you with that. Sometimes you acted as Bruce’s and Peter’s assistant with their experiments.

Bruce was also a very good listener and your go-to person to vent to about your life’s problems (when Peter wasn’t around).

One of the conditions to be on the team was that you didn’t lapse in schoolwork, so they were very on top of that and your grades. Tony even offered to go to parent-teacher meetings. Any one of them were ready to go to your teachers or principal if anything happened.

Natasha would routinely check in with you to make sure that you weren’t being bullied.

Pepper also became a motherly figure, as she cared very much about you and Peter. She’d offer you a Stark Industries internship.

Movie nights were chaotic, but absolutely the best. It was hard for anyone to agree, so the team had a system where they’d rotate who got to pick the meeting. Sam and Peter were also not allowed to make popcorn after many unfortunate incidents. Most of the time you fell asleep late into the night and one of the Avengers carried you to bed (they’d never admit this, but that also became an argument).

It was during a movie night when Peter realized he liked you romantically. You fell asleep during a movie, your head on his shoulder. Peter swore he never experienced something so precious before. He was adamant to keep your peace, glaring at anyone who dared to talk.

The team found your growing romance to be adorable and often teased the two of you about it. The only people who didn’t tease you were Bruce, Pepper, and Thor (because he didn’t really understand how to effectively tease).

If Flash messed with you, Peter was always on top of it. He’d always protect you.

Steve was also always making sure that you knew right from wrong. He’d give long speeches about how it wasn’t right to smoke, drink, do drugs, etc.

Then Thor gave you Asgardian alcohol once, not realizing how bad that was considering you’re both human and underage. That was a mess. Peter having to hold your hair back when you vomited and multiple Avengers escorting you to bed. Thor got an earful about it.

Clint was one of the ones who better understood you, seeing as he had experience with his own kids. He was always good at mediating and defusing the tension.

Laura also adored you, you were her favorite babysitter for the kids. Whenever they went on date night, they’d drop the kids off at the tower, and you would watch them (Peter would help when he wasn’t on patrol).

Patrolling with Peter was also very fun. More often than not he’d convince you to take a break, then swing you up on top of a roof to watch over the city and the sky.

On multiple occasions, KAREN would rat the two of you out to Tony, but he was never mad. He just wanted to know all about the “date”.

Prom was also very fun. Honestly, the whole team would want to come pick out outfits with you and Peter. They took many, many pictures on the night of. Peter also teared up when he saw you. He thought you were stunning.

Of course, you guys had a curfew, but it was alright. You and Peter had a fantastic night. All he wanted to do was dance and hold you.

You had Happy wrapped around your finger. You could really convince him to drive you anywhere you wanted to go.

You also managed to get an internship at the Sanctum Santorum, learning more about magic under Doctor Strange and Wong’s guidance. The Avengers weren’t particularly thrilled, as they were worried about you being hurt, but understood your want to explore.

You really wanted to see all the areas of being a hero. Clint taught you archery and Natasha taught you how to be a spy. You’d listen to Natasha and Clint’s spy stories for hours. Peter would have to pry you away.

Peter always insisted on having date nights and would go all out, making every date special. He’d do anything to make you happy.

And so would all the Avengers. They loved seeing you smile, it brightened up their whole world and made the team stronger.

150 notes · View notes

wandafiction · 3 months

Text

Drunk

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, very drunk reader, reader gets sick, mentions of blood.

You are sitting on one of the many empty stools at the not so empty bar nursing your third whiskey, or was it fourth? Maybe fifth? The party is in full swing, the birthday boy (Tony Stark) is currently giving a speech on stage. Something about how you only turn 48 once and that people should leave their many gifts for him on the stage. You scoff to yourself, sure you and Tony were friends, but you swear- sometimes - even you wonder why, when he is so far stuck up his own ass you're sure he can see the daylight coming from his mouth when he speaks. Because my god could that man speak.

So here you are sitting, drinking, on your own because your girlfriend is currently on a mission and you hate coming to this sort of things without her. Not because you were an antisocial, ball of anxiety…Okay maybe you are…. But you also didn’t know anyone here, not really, you weren’t an avenger like she was. You were just a regular barista at the local coffee shop that just so happened to be the one she would go to every morning for her morning shot of go go juice after going for a run. What you didn’t realise, not until she told you recently, was she only kept coming back to work up the courage to talk to you.

You smile to yourself just thinking about it.

You down the rest of your drink taking a look around all the party goers seeing only those she has introduced you to and those you see around the tower when you visit. You see Tony dancing with a drink in one hand swinging his top above his head with the other, cringing slightly at the sight of the drunk man. You spot Steve over on the couches talking to Sam and Bucky on the other couch, all three of them with a beer in hand as they seem lost in the conversation they are having. You smile when you see Bruce raise his drink at you in a small greeting from the other end of the bar, lifting yours in return before you watch him walk over to try and get Tony, who was now trying to rip his pants off as he stood on one of the many tables, away from people.

“Well what is such a thing like you doing here all on your lonesome?” You turn quickly at the unknown voice behind you squinting your eyes with scrunched brows as you try to see if you recognise the woman.

“Thing?” It’s now you realise that maybe those five whiskeys, or could it have been seven, were not such a good idea as you struggle to keep your focus on the blonde woman in front of you. Or women, not sure if you were seeing three of her or if there were three different people in front of you.

“Well I saw you enter with Tony Stark himself so I believe I am only right in thinking you must be an avenger, and one of your beauty must be a goddess.” At her words you snort, quickly using your hand to cover your nose and mouth waving the other one at her as your face turns bright red.

“Goddess?” The three women that you see now merge together, in your drunken state, finally able to see the blonde woman in front of you who has a small smirk on her lips.

“Well now I feel stupid. Are you not a goddess?” You shake your head quickly, not missing how when the woman takes a seat next to you she pulls the stool closer so her knees can rest against yours, but you try to angle your body away from hers not wanting to give her the wrong impression.

“I am most definitely not a goddess. Just plain old human being.” She gives you a small nod turning to grab the bartender's attention and ordering you both new drinks.

“Okay, well, I’m a normal human being too. You got a name?”

“Is Y/n. Y/n y/l/n.” You slur out at your hand grabs out for the new drink the bartender has put in front of you.

“Aren’t you going to ask mine?” You shake your head downing your drink as the one woman blurs into more than one again.

“Sure. What is your name blondie?”

“The names Jessica. But you can call me Jess.”

“Well thank you for the drink Jesssssssica.” You giggle as you over pronounce her name leaning back slightly on your stool, Jess seeing the opportunity to place her hand on your leg.

“Sorry, I didn't want you to fall backwards.” She answers when she sees you look down at her hand.

“Mhmm, thanks. Anyway, do you not have anyone around here you should be hanging out with?” Even in your drunken state you know what her aim is and you know it's definitely not something you want.

“No. I’m enjoying drinking with you.”

“Well this is my last one before I leave this place.”

“Can I join you? The party is kind of lame.”

“No, I am just gonna head to the sleeping chambers and try to sleep this off.” You try to pull her hand off your thigh but she is persistent and fights against it.

“Oh you’re no fun. I just wanted to spend the night with you, get to know that amazing body. Then maybe in the morning I can show you the best way to get rid of a hangover.”

“Sorry I am really not interested.” She scrunches her brows leaning closer to you with a pout on her lips.

“Come one, I know you want to.”

“I'm sorry I really don’t and I am in a relationship.” You think the woman rolls her eyes, and maybe you hear her scoff but you definitely don't miss the way her eyes bulge out of her head as she looks behind you, and you don’t miss the feeling of a pair of strong hands landing on your shoulders.

“I’m just going to…” She slowly removes herself from the stool leaving money to cover both of your drinks. “It was nice meeting you.”

With that she scurries off and you scrunch your brows, turning around to see who is behind you but the 8, maybe more drinks, have once and for all won the battle of making everything blurry and your words a slurred mess. The hands give your shoulders a small squeeze and your head turns left to right to look at either hand. They are dirty, maybe have some blood on them and when you look up at them their face is not much better.

You take in her beauty. The red hair, green eyes are all you are able to identify mixed with the dirt and the blood on her face. You can see a small look of worry, amusement and something else as her brows furrow as her eyes scan your face.

“I’m sorry. As I just told blondie I have a girlfriend.”

“Is that so?” You nod your head quickly, humming out a yes as the woman only giggles to herself.

“I think it is time for your bed, detka.” You pout, shaking your head quickly.

“But I want to stay up and see my girlfriend, she should be home soon.” The hands on your shoulders move to cup your face tilting your head to look up at her.

“You really don’t know who I am.” Her tone is amused as you push her hands off your face.

“I already told you I have a girlfriend. And she wouldn’t appr-apprec-apprecia….she wouldn’t like you flirting with me.” Once again the woman only laughs, and you scrunch your brows as it sounds vaguely familiar but can’t quite place it.

“How about this? I help get you to bed, and when you wake up I am sure your kind, loving and drop dead gorgeous girlfriend will be there when you wake up.” You take a moment to think about it, looking the woman up and down every second she becomes more familiar and if she is familiar then you’re sure you can trust her.

“Okay. Thank you. My girlfriend would kill me if she knew how drunk I was right now.”

“I’m not angry, in fact it is quite amusing, but I think we do need to get you in bed to rest.” You look up to the woman as she leads you down the hallway, seemingly knowing where Natasha’s room is.

“Hey, how did you know?” The woman turns to look at you with a raised brow as she opens the door and you stumble inside as she lets go of you for a moment to close the door.

You stumble into the room, cursing as you trip over your own feet and fall with your side hitting the bed and landing on the floor with a hmph. You bring your hand up to rub at your side, the other pulling at the covers on the bed to help you stand but it does nothing as the moment you yank the covers they move and you end up falling on the floor again.

“Fuck it. This is where I am sleeping I guess.” You mumble to yourself, reaching for the blanket that you know is on the bed somewhere behind you.

“Hey, let's get you off the floor my love.” You gasp as you look up to see your girlfriend in front of you moving her arms so they are under yours.

“Baby!” You squeal as you wrap your arms around her pushing yourself forwards causing Natasha to stumble backwards and land on the floor herself.

“Oh so now you recognize me?” You push yourself up slightly, your hands either side of her head so you can look down at her.

“What do you mean?” You tilt your head in question and Natasha raises a brow.

“You mean you don’t remember the past 10….okay nevermind.” She places her hands on your waist gently pushing you off her so she can stand up, your arms moving to hold her hips as you struggle to stand yourself. “Let's get you to bed.”

“Yes! Take me to bed lovergirl!” You jump, knowing Natasha will easily catch you, wrapping your legs around her waist and your arms around her neck as you litter her face with drunken and very sloppy kisses.

Natasha lets you continue smothering her face with kisses as she places you down on the edge of the bed, your body naturally falling backwards; dragging Natasha with you by your arms around her neck. Her hands move out to catch herself so she doesn’t land on top of you and instead hovering above you. You try to use your arms to pull her down more but pout when you realise she isn’t going to budge.

“You can’t be on top of me and not top me baby.” You pout more as your hands start playing with the baby hairs on her neck. “You know I can’t resist you when I see you from this angle.”

“Not tonight detka. Firstly, you are very drunk and in no way can give consent to anything. Secondly, I’m covered in blood and dirt. Thirdly, you are drunk.”

“Maybe you’re drunk silly because you already said that once.” You giggle as you boop her nose with one hand causing her to roll her eyes at your drunken state.

“Let's get you changed and in bed.” You hum as you close your eyes but only for a second as your brain registers what she said a few seconds ago.

“Wait, blood and dirt?” You push her off of you gently as you sit up, suddenly feeling completely sober in your worried state as your hands and eyes search her body and face for injury.

“It's not mine.” You don’t hear her as your hands grab hers, turning them over multiple times trying to figure out why there is so much blood, but she quickly removes her hands from yours cupping your face and tilting your head so you’re looking at her. “Hey, hey. It’s not mine, my love. It’s not mine.”

“Not yours.” Your voice trembles as you mumble the words back to her and Natahsa nods her head brushing some hair out of your face.

“It’s not mine.” She repeats softly back to you as you look back up to her about to say something but your body says otherwise.

Quickly you’re off the bed and running into the bathroom only just making it to the toilet as the contents of however many drinks you’ve had, surely it was 10. Or maybe 12.Your knuckles turn white with how hard you are holding the sides of the toilet, coughing as the vomiting subsides for the moment. You don’t dare move your head from where it rests on the top of the toilet seat, too afraid that any movement will cause your stomach to turn.

“Oh detka.” Natasha crouches down to your height holding a small cup of water towards you, as her other hand reaches to pull the flush. “Don’t drink too much too quickly otherwise you will make yourself sick, just rinse your mouth out for a moment.

You lazily nod your head, now feeling the room spin as you do so the feeling of sick raising again. You shut your eyes tightly, your hand that's holding the cup shaking slightly as your body tries to recover from already throwing up, and Natasha seems to take notice as she removes the cup from your hand placing it on the floor next to her. She moves closer to you, her hands going to your hair as she does it up in a messy bun as her eyes stay trained mostly to your face watching carefully for any changes in your appearance. Just as she finishes tying your hair your body lurches forward as another round of vomiting up alcohol begins.

You don’t know how long your head has been down the toilet for, or how long Natasha has simply stayed by your side but what you do know is your throat hurts and there are tears rolling down your face from throwing up. You did eventually stop, and you cleaned your teeth next to the toilet just in case. You lean against Natasha more as she wraps an arm around your shoulders pulling you against her as you both slowly move to lean against the wall of the bathroom.

“I’m sorry Tasha.” Nat is quick to silence you as she shakes her head, pressing a kiss to your temple as she uses her finger and thumb on your chin to turn your head.

“Do not apologise detka. You have nothing to apologise for.” Your bottom lip temples a little as Nat moves a hand to wipe at your tears, your head instinctively leaning into the touch.

“I do. You came back from a mission, and instead of sorting yourself out you’ve been stuck looking after me.”

“Hush.” She presses her finger against your lips, once and for all stopping you from talking, you knew she was serious by the look she was giving you and it made you shrink back a little bit. “I am not angry, or mad or maybe a little frustrated but that's more to do with the fact that that woman was flirting with you when you were clearly too drunk to even know what was going on. Now let's get you into bed, then I will sort myself out and join you.”

Natasha helped you off the cold bathroom floor leading you back to the bedroom and once again placing you on the bed, this time making sure she had a hold of your body so you didn’t fall backwards. Your eyes start to feel heavy, closing slowly as you feel Natasha start to undo the few buttons on your blouse before lifting it over your head and in the next moment removing your bra. She pushes your body slightly, giggling when you flop backwards so she can unbutton your pants and remove them with some struggle as they get stuck on around your ankles for a second.

The next moment your arms are being pulled and your body moves off the bed so you are sitting back up. You open your eyes with a goofy smile on your face as you see Natasha grabbing one of her shirts for you to wear. You lift your arms above your head earning a small chuckle and a kiss on the forehead from your girlfriend as she slides the top on you.

“Crawl into bed then baby I won’t be long.”

You were already nearly asleep, your body and mind exhausted from being drunk and then throwing it all back up, laying on your back because you felt to sick to lay any other way when you feel the bed dip and the covers move slightly. Natasha leves a small kiss on your cheek as she shuffles as close to you as possible without being on top of you knowing it would not help you right now. Her hand rests on your sternum, her finger drawing small shapes as she looks up at you from where her head rests just next to your shoulder.

“I love you, you big idiot.” You smile tiredly, peeking one eye open to look down at her.

“I love me too.” You giggle as she hits your chest gently rolling her eyes. “I’m joking, I love you too.”

“Good because next time you are dealing with a drunk me.” You smile closing your eyes again as you let your body completely relax again teetering on the edge of sleep, as Natasha’s hand continues to draw patterns on your chest.

“I would love to see a drunk Natasha.” Is the last thing you mumble before letting sleep consume you not hearing Natasha’s next words.

“I’m so gonna marry you one day you drunken fool.”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #drunk reader

227 notes · View notes

aurumacadicus · 5 months

Text

The problem was, Steve thought, that he still had those old values. People called him old-fashioned or a man of his time and it was true. He liked holding doors open for his dates, and helping them into cars, and walking on the outside of the sidewalk, and paying for their whole meal. He liked the idea of providing for them. And yeah, some people liked receiving this treatment at first, but the shine would wear off, and then they'd get testy.

"It gets a little old," Sharon had finally told him, eyes soft and sympathetic. "Being treated like I'm being protected all the time. I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself, Steve."

Steve hadn't known how to explain that he knew that. He wasn't doing it because he thought she couldn't; he'd been doing it because it was what came naturally to him. (He thought, later, it was because that was what his ma had been looking for after his dad died. Someone she could lay down her load in front of and he would take care of her. He wanted to be the kind of man his ma would have been proud of. But it was different, now, and he was struggling to learn that.)

So when he finally got the courage to ask Tony out, he figured it was just another thing Tony would make fun of him for, at least good-natured. Tony liked teasing the people he cared about, after all, and Steve gave him a lot of ammunition.

"Oh, what a gentleman," Tony said as Steve opened the door of the car he was borrowing for him, and there was the teasing Steve had expected, but there was also something a little sincere. Steve thought Tony might have even blushed a little as he offered him his hand to get inside, too.

It made Steve wonder when the shine would wear off for Tony. When his irritation would show because Steve never let him pay for dinner, or movies, or even for their coffee from the cart at the park. When he'd snap that he wasn't an invalid and could get into cars just fine on his own. When he would remind Steve very sternly that just because he didn't have the suit didn't mean he was helpless, and he could walk on the outside of the sidewalk sometimes. That he'd humored him enough, and Steve needed to get with the times, especially if he wanted to keep up with a man always looking toward the future.

"Steve," Natasha said in surprise when he'd finally admitted it on hour seventeen of being stuck in a cell together, waiting for rescue. "I don't think Tony is ever going to get tired of the way you treat him."

"Yeah?" Steve asked, too tired to keep the hope out of his voice.

Natasha blinked at him, slow and judgmental. "Steve, I don't know if you've noticed, but Tony gets annoyingly giddy when you guys come back from a date. He's used to being taken for everything he has so other people can get a leg up. You never let him do anything that he would have been expected to do for other dates." She narrowed her eyes. "He still blushes when you get him flowers, Steve. Tony can't fake a blush."

"Oh," Steve said, feeling like an idiot, but it didn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. Natasha made him feel like an idiot regularly, so it was mostly par for the course anyway.

#ideas #stony

266 notes · View notes

arlana-likes-to-write · 10 months

Text

Rescue by Lauren Daigle

Summary: Natasha doesn’t have a lot of regrets, everything she’s done in her life has gotten her to where she is now. An Avenger, a hero to young girls, and trying to remove some red from her ledger. But the one thing she does regret is giving you up. But when a word gets out that you are in trouble, she will come to rescue you.

Pairings: Natasha x Maria, Natasha x Maria x daughter!reader, past Natasha x Bucky

Warning: gun shot violence, implied rape, death, cannon typical violence, gambling, the reader needs a hug but so does Natasha

Word count: 7.1 k

“Mail call,” Wanda said, walking into the common area with a few pieces of mail in her hand.

“Who the hell gets paper mail?” Tony asked, pouring coffee into his mug.

“Some of us like to do things without technology,” Steve said as Wanda handed him the newspaper. Tony looked at the super soldier with disbelief. It was rare that the Avengers got mail but each one had specific memberships. Vision received a copy of the newest National Geographic and Pietro got Sports Illustrated. Sometimes Sam received a letter from his service buddies and Steve always got the newspaper, he did take the comics out for Peter. As Wanda handed out the mail, Natasha waited with bated breath to see if she received a letter. It was rare but she was excited nonetheless. The Sokovian smiled at the Black Widow and handed her a letter. It was addressed the same way, her name and her current address with no return.

“Thank you,” the Black Widow said, leaving her unfinished lunch on the table and heading for her room. She barely heard Tony question her odd behavior but she didn’t care. When she was safe behind her bedroom door, she opened the envelope. There was a single picture of a young girl with fiery red hair standing at a picnic table. A birthday cake was lit and presents stayed unwrapped around you. Natasha smiled, moving her finger across your face. Her daughter, whom she only got to hold once on the day she was born. When she defected to SHIELD, she gave up for you to live a normal and safe life. But she was promised that you would go to a good family and on birthdays Natasha would receive a photo. The most important thing was if there was any sign of trouble she would be called in.

“It’s about that time of year,” Maria appeared at her door. “Did you get a photo?” Natasha nodded as her girlfriend sat down next to her. Not counting the agent, four other people knew of your existence. Maria was one of them but not even the Deputy Direction knew of your true location to keep you safe. The agent gently took the picture and smiled.

“She’s spoiled rotten,” Maria teased. The Black Widow chuckled, letting her head fall onto Maria’s shoulder. It was times like this that Natasha questioned if she made the right choice. She wished she could be there for birthdays and every school accomplishment. Maria kissed her head. “I know, baby, I know.”

“Miss. Romanoff,” FRIDAY said. Natasha stopped her assault on the sandbag. “Your presence is being requested in the conference room.”

“Do I have time to shower?”

“No, Director Fury said it’s urgent,” it was never a good sign when Fury was involved. She quickly grabbed her water off the floor and headed for the conference room. When she entered, Fury and Maria were standing by a screen and her sister and Clint were sitting at the table. Oh, she did not have a good feeling about this.

“What’s going on?” She asked, not bothering to sit down.

“Does the Winter Soldier mean anything to you?” Of course, it did. He was one of her trainers in the Red Room but also the father of her daughter. In hindsight it was the perfect companionship; one of the Red Room’s best assassins and HYDRA’s most feared weapon. Their child would be the ultimate fighter but they didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah,” Natasha said, crossing her arms. “He’s credited for over two dozen assassinations in the last 50 years.”

“So, he’s a ghost story?” Clint questioned. She shook her head.

“I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran, somebody shot at my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff,” she said, remembering every part of that day. “I pulled us out, but the Winter Soldier was there. I covered my engineer, so he shot him straight through me,” it was heartbreaking as she stared into the eyes of a man she once knew but there was no recognition in his eyes. She lifted her shirt, revealing a bullet wound on her stomach. “A Soviet slug, no rifling. Bye-bye bikinis.”

“Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now,” Maria sarcastically said. Natasha smirked.

“Ew,” Yelena said. “He was also a trainer in the Red Room. Before my time but the guards would talk.”

“Why are we here, Fury?” Clint asked. Natasha was wondering the same thing.

“We picked up chatter that was concerning,” he nodded to Maria, who pulled up a recording and played it. The audio was all static and it was hard to hear but Natasha could make out two distinct voices and they said your name and the Winter Soldier.

“Send me there now,” she said. The audio was still playing and Maria quickly stopped it.

“Nat..”

“Don’t ‘Na’t me,” Natasha cut her girlfriend off. “When I gave her up I asked for two things; a picture once or twice a year and to be notified if she’s in danger. In return, I’d never reach out to her.”

“We need you here to run point and we are going to send Belova and Barton to look after her,” Fury instructed.

“Like hell, you are,” Natasha was slowly losing her composure. “She’s my daughter.”

“You don’t have any claim to her,” Natasha’s jaw clenched. Fury sighed. “Can I please speak with Romanoff alone?” Each one of her closest acquaintances left the room and tried to reassure her in their way but she ignored everyone. Her eyes never left the man. When the door closed, Fury sighed again.

“Natasha..”

“Don’t Nick,” she said, walking over to the man. “Don’t say another word because I’m very close to throwing you through a wall,” Fury smirked.

“I’m trying to look after you,” he said. “Your name was mentioned. It could be a trap.”

“I don’t care,” she said. “She’s my daughter even if you don’t think she is,” she saw the smallest clench of his jaw. “I hear her SOS. I will never stop marching toward her. So I’m going. You can’t stop me.” He thought about it.

“Fine,” he relented. “But Maria is coming with you as your backup.”

“Clint will run point and I want Yelena on standby if we need it.” He nodded.

“What do we tell the team?” She wasn’t sure. For the longest time, she’s kept your existence a secret to ensure your safety. But now it may have been all for tonight. No, she couldn’t think like that. You were going to be fine.

“The truth,” she said. “It’s time they know.”

“Hurry up,” your best friend called out. You giggled, running over to her. She climbed up to do the monkey bars.

“You got this Sarah,” you cheered as her arms began to shake when she reached halfway. She fell to the ground unable to go the entire way. “Nice try,” you smiled, beginning your turn. You liked the challenge of the monkey bars, the burn of your arms and hands. Unlike Sarah, you didn’t feel your arms shake and you made it all the way across. Sarah rolled her eyes.

“No fair,” she pouted. “How are you so strong?” You shrugged. It was a mystery to you and something you attributed to your biological parents. In PE class, you learned to hold yourself back even though you could beat all the kids in your class. No one wanted to be friends with the abnormally strong girl.

“I don’t know,” you said.

“Come push me on the swings,” Well besides Sarah, she didn’t care that you were stronger than her and she used it to her advantage. You smiled, running after her. She jumped onto the empty swing and you began to push her. It wasn’t long before your mind began to wander as you looked around the park. There was a small party at the pavilion and a small-sided soccer game. A few black vans were parked on the far side. You found your parents sitting at a bench speaking with a man you knew well. Agent Cruise. He was present at every birthday party and family gathering. According to your mom, he was the one that found you when your birth mother abandoned you. Why was he here?

“I’ll be right back,” you told Sarah and walked over to the trio. Agent Cruise saw you right away, a smile on his face.

“Hi firecracker,” he held out his fist and you pumped it three times then gave him a side hug.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him.

“I was in the area and I thought I’d say hi to the family.” That was a lie but you didn’t question it. If he was lying for a reason, it had to be a good one.

“Everything is fine, sweetheart,” your mom said. “Go back and play with Sarah.”

“Okay, love you guys,” you turned around to go back to the playground but a gunshot froze you in your spot. It was a sound you heard on TV and in movies and never expected to hear it in real life. A body crashed into yours pushing you into the ground as another shot went off.

“W-Will,” you stuttered.

“Eyes on me, okay?” You nodded, staring into his brown eyes. “My car isn’t far. I need you to run and I’ll cover you.”

“What about -” Your eyes found your parents, slumped against each other and blood pouring from a single shot in their head. “No,” you whispered, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes but you didn’t let them fall.

“Firecracker, run,” he got off of you and began to fire. You scrambled to your feet as he shot at a man walking towards you. His bullets made him take cover but you locked eyes with him. They were blue, similar to the color of your own eyes. His brown hair was shoulder length and half of his face was covered with a mask. But the most striking feature about him was his metal arm that shone under the California sun.

Finding his car wasn’t hard and it was unlocked when you opened the backseat. You slammed the doors closed and tried to calm your racing heart. You mimicked the breathing technique your dad would do. Breathe in for 5 seconds and hold it for 5. In for 5 seconds and out for 5. Soon your heart rate calmed down but your eyes burned with unshed tears. They died, killed right in front of you. You heard voices outside the car and you covered your mouth to keep quiet. His windows were tinted so they couldn’t see in but they would be able to hear you.

More gunshots and yelling made you yelp and the silhouettes of the men outside disappeared. You removed your hand and listened outside. Soon the car door swung open. You bite back a scream that almost left your lips. “Hey, it’s okay,” you weren’t expecting a woman with red hair and green eyes wearing a black tactical suit. You knew her. Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, and Avenger. “You're safe but I need you to come with me,” you stayed frozen, staring at the woman in front of you. “Look, we are running out of time. Please come with me.” She held out her hand and you took it, hoping you could trust her.

This wasn’t how Natasha wanted to meet you. She had so many other ways that didn’t involve your adoptive parents murdered and an assassin who happens to be your biological father hunting you. Nothing was easy for the Black Widow. “Put this on,” she handed you a helmet. “Get on,” she got on the motorcycle and she felt you get on behind her, hesitant arms wrapping around her waist. Natasha kicked up the kickstand and the engine came to life. “I got her,” she said over the comms.

“Well, you got company,” Maria said. Natasha looked behind her and saw 3 vans turning down the street; they were one and the Winter Soldier handing out the window with an AK-47. “Stick to the side streets,” she continued. “I’ll get you both back safely.” Natasha trusted Maria to do just that and started to drive.

“You have to trust me, okay? When I lean, you lean,” Natasha said over the wind. “If you don’t, they will catch us and kill you.” She wasn’t sure if you heard her until she felt your head and squeezed her waist.

“Take your next right,” Natasha let out a shaky breath and turned right. Your body leaned with hers. Okay, the Black Widow thought, maybe they’d get through this.

The motorcycle stopped and you took off the helmet. You were in an alley between 2 apartment buildings. The Black Widow got off and helped you down, your legs shook and were a little unsteady. “Come on,” she said, leading you to a door. “We can rest soon.” She opened the door and led you up 2 flights of stairs. The redhead stopped at a door, room 324, and knocked three times. It took a minute for the door to open. In front of you was a woman with black hair, pulled back into a bun. Her brown eyes were sharp but they landed on Natasha and they softened.

“Glad you're alive,” she said, stepping out of the way. You hesitated but followed the Black Widow inside the apartment.

“Did you have that little faith?” Natasha teased sitting on the couch. You could see the tension leave her body.

“What the heck is going on?” You asked. “I just watched my parents die in front of me, a mystery man with a metal man was chasing me, and an Avenger shows up,” you looked at the other woman. “I have no idea who you are or what is going on.”

“I’m Maria,” she waved, sitting down next to Natasha. It was nice to have her name but that did not answer any of your questions.

“We can’t tell you everything right now but you're safe here,” Natasha said. You stared at the redhead, the color so similar to your own. Now that you looked at the Avenger you saw a lot of your features in her.

“How can I feel safe when you won’t tell me the truth?” Her green eyes locked onto your blue ones and she looked away.

“We can’t,” she said. “Not right now.” Your jaw clenched.

“We may be here for a while,” Maria said, standing up. “I’ll show you to your room.” You continued to stare at the Black Widow, wanting her to look at you or wanting to grab her by her shoulders and yell - ‘are you my mother?’ but she wouldn’t look at you. You sighed, following Maria.

“Here you go,” it was a simple room. A bed pushed up in the corner, no TV or posters of any kind. It was a stark contrast to your room. “I know this isn’t ideal,” you skimmed your hand over the bedsheets. “But we will keep you safe.” You looked at Maria.

“She’s my mom, right?” Maria had an excellent poker face but it was a game you’ve been playing since you could talk. She was surprised by your statement so there were a few ways she could go about this; lie, tell the truth, or deflect. You were leaning towards deflection.

“There are take-out menus on the fridge, figure out what you want to eat.” Deflection. It was the easiest way, to tell the truth without betraying someone’s trust.

“Right,” you sat down on the bed. “Thanks.” She nodded.

“Come find us if you need anything,” you didn’t respond as she closed the door. You leaned against the wall, looking out the window to the street down below. People were going about their day unaware of how your life was altered forever.

“How is she?” Clint asked over the computer. They just finished a meeting with the rest of the team back in New York to come up with the next phase of the plan. She ignored Tony's thousand and one questions regarding you. Overall he seemed hurt she never told him, since ‘we’ve been through so much together.’ Natasha felt bad, they were her team, her family but sometimes the thought of you hurt too much. But a plan was made which consisted of you, Maria, and Natasha to head to Norway to lay low while the rest of the teams tracked and captured the Winter Soldier. Easier said than done. Now she was only talking with Yelena and Clint while Maria tried to get you to eat.

“She’s quiet,” Natasha knew that was to be expected. “She hasn’t said anything since Maria showed her to her room.”

“Does she know?” Yelena asked. Natasha sighed, nodding her head.

“Yeah, she asked Maria but she didn’t give her a yes or now,” You were smart, maybe a little too smart. “But I haven’t told her.”

“Are you going to?”

“Do we know how they found her?” Natasha deflected. She didn’t have an answer to Yelena’s question. Clint nodded.

“Her adoptive father got into some gambling debts,” he said. “Ripped off the wrong people.”

“But why go after her?” Yelena questioned. “Why do they want her alive?” Now Natasha knew that answer. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Her biological father is the Winter Soldier,” she told them. “That is why they are after her. If she falls into the wrong hands, she could be an unstoppable weapon.”

You couldn’t sleep. Every time you close your eyes, you saw the metal man with a gun and your parents dead at your feet. Natasha came into your room to tell you that all three of you would be leaving bright and early and to try to get some sleep. You didn’t respond as she left saying goodnight. So you lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. Finally, you sighed and stood up leaving your small room to venture into the rest of the apartment. The other bedroom was on the opposite side of the apartment but you tried to be quiet as you went through the bare kitchen. In the last drawer you opened, you found what you were looking for. A single deck of cards. You grabbed it and sat down at the dining room table. Game night was common practice that took place with you and your parents almost every night. At a young age, they taught you poker, blackjack, pitch, rummy, and spades. You never left home without a deck of cards as a simple game of poker square or solitaire could calm your racing mind. So, you set up a poker square game. It was a game of strategy, patience, and a little bit of luck unless you could count cards. Another skill your parents taught you. “Couldn’t sleep?” The Black Widow questioned. You didn’t answer, glancing up at the redhead as she got two bottles of water and sat across from you. “What are you playing?”

“Poker,” you answered.

“Poker? Aren’t you a little young to know how to play poker?” You rolled your eyes. It was the same thing said to you by every adult when they found out you could play.

“Poker isn’t just a way to gamble all the money in your pocket,” you didn’t look away from the cards. “It can teach you emotional stability in changing situations, to think analytically, and how to read people. But also how to be deceptive, you have to make everyone believe you have something in your hand when in reality you have something else,” Finally, you looked up at the Black Widow. “You’d be good at it. Your poker face is shit though.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know I thought about you all the time,” you went back to your game. “It kept me up some nights questioning why my mother gave me up. Maybe I wasn’t good enough or a mistake or she didn’t love me,” a glance up and you saw everything you needed in her eyes. They softened as her other facial features stayed stoic.

“Not your mom, kid,” she lied.

“From an emotional standpoint, sure, you aren’t. But biologically, I know I share your DNA,” you flipped the last card, placing it in the final spot. Taking a moment to look over how you did, you gathered up the cards again. “Shit poker face remember. It’s all in your eyes, they give too much away,” you shuffled the cards and began to play again. “Not that it’s a bad thing,” you added quickly, not wanting to offend the woman sitting across from you. “Just surprising,” you took a sip of water she gave you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it,” she said. “You can ask but that doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” Her smirk mirrored your own.

“Say we don’t share any biological relation, why would the Avengers come and save me?” You began to play again. “I'm nobody,” you said. “It would probably cost less to have them kill me,” you saw her flinch slightly at your blunt comment.

“You're not the only one he’s after,” you looked up at her.

“Why?” You questioned.

“I don’t know,” she answered. You hummed, nodding your head.

“First time you were honest with me,” you cleaned up the cards. “Goodnight, Natasha,” you took the cards and the water bottle.

“Night, kid,” her voice followed you to the room. When the door closed, you rested your back against it. Your poker face was failing. You felt the cracks. Letting out a shaky breath, you pulled back the covers and climbed in. You were surprised at how quickly you fell asleep.

Norway was beautiful. It was your first time leaving the country. You sat in the backseat of the white car with Maria in the passenger seat and Natasha was driving. You stayed quiet, playing with the charm around your neck. It was a turtle dove, a Christmas gift from Agent Cruise, who had a matching charm. You wondered if he was okay. Maria tried to make conversation asking about your likes and dislikes. You kept your answers short. Natasha drove through a dirt road through the woods and when the car emerged you saw a camper in the middle of a clearing. The driver's side window was down and you heard water. There was nothing for miles around. “It’s not much but we’ll stay safe,” Natasha said, parking the car. Maria got out and opened your door for you to get out. The wind caused goosebumps to form on your skin as you followed the couple.

The camper was simple, a couch that faced a small TV and a kitchen. Natasha walked towards the main bedroom, passing a bathroom. When she opened the bedroom door, there was a man fast asleep on top of the bed. The Black Widow hit the man on his foot, who jerked awake. “You're in our bed.”

“I’m..I’m not even under the covers,” he sat up, looking at Maria then you. “You're new. Who are you?” His voice was laced with a British accent.

“I’m not telling you,” you said, not missing the way Natasha smiled at you.

“Did you get everything on my list?” Natasha asked, walking back into the main part of the camper. You sat down on the couch as the three adults stood around the kitchen countertop.

“Got passports, entry visas, and a couple of local driver’s licenses,” he handed the couple a white envelope. “There is a generator outside. It’s petrol-powered and the septic tank will need a flush in a couple of weeks,” he spun around, leaning against the counter. He was looking at you. “You’ll have to haul your rubbish into town. It’s about a 20-minute drive,” he continued. Finally, you couldn’t help but stare at him.

“Can I help you?” You questioned. He smiled.

“No, just looking,” you rolled your eyes.

“Take a picture and it’ll last longer,” you mumbled, standing up and leaving the camper. You followed the sound of running water to a small stream. You sat on the bank and got lost in the water.

“She’s a spitfire,” Mason said, turning to face the couple. Maria picked up the envelope on the counter and hit his arm. “Ow, what was that for?” He rubbed the spot that was just hit.

“Leave her alone,” Maria said. “You're lucky I hit you and she didn’t.” Mason rolled his eyes.

“Does she know?’ He questioned. “She must, right?” Natasha walked over to the window and watched you. You were kneeling by the steam’s edge. “I mean it’s like I’m seeing double.” Mason continued.

“She does,” Natasha whispered. “Not sure how she feels about it.”

“Have you asked?” He asked, standing behind her. The Black Widow shook her head.

“She’s been through a lot. I don’t want to add more to it.”

The three of you fell into a routine. You slept on the pullout couch while Maria and Natasha were in the main bedroom. By the time the Black Widow was up for her morning run, you were up playing with the deck of cards you brought from the apartment. Maria would cook breakfast and the two Avengers spent the majority of the day doing Avenger duties, trying to help their teammates in any way. While they were doing that, you explored the surrounding woods and walked up and down the creek. When they needed to go into town, you went with them and a movie to end the night. Repeat. Repeat. And repeat. The repetition of the days wasn’t bothering you but the lack of conversation with the Black Widow was driving you insane. Maria was making an effort and you enjoyed talking and playing cards with her. Every time Maria invited Natasha but she would turn her down, coming up with a bullshit excuse. You knew what she was doing. She was building a wall between you and her. It would be fine if you didn’t catch her longing looks at you or hear Maria and Natasha fight one night when they thought you were asleep. Maria called her girlfriend out on her stand-offish behavior and Natasha claimed it was better off this way, it was only temporary.

Temporary. You were only a mission. Once the metal-armed man was dealt with you would go back home. But where was home? The only parents you knew were dead, no one spoke about Agent Cruise, and you were beginning to feel safe with the couple. Even though Natasha’s behavior was upsetting you. You wanted her to acknowledge you so were going to push her buttons.

She just got off a meeting with the other Avengers and you heard the last of it as you came back into the camper for some water. The man disappeared. There were no signs of him. Natasha sighed, closing her laptop. You stared at the Black Widow from the kitchen, finished the glass of water, and placed it on the counter. “I want to go home,” you suddenly said. Her head snapped to you, you thought she was going to give herself whiplash. “They said he’s gone so it’s safe for me to go home.”

“And where are you going to go?” She questioned. Your jaw clenched.

“Anywhere is better than here,” you mumbled, ignoring the flash of hurt across Natasha’s face and walking back outside. You heard Natasha behind you.

“You know if you go back to the States he’ll kill you,” you stopped. “That is what he’s waiting for you. He will find you and kill you.”

“Then use me as bait,” you turned to face her. “Have the Avengers stand guard, he’ll come, you’ll play hero, and we’ll go our separate ways.”

“That’s not happening,” her face was hard to read, not even you could read her eyes. She had been practicing. Shit. “Even if I thought that was a good idea, which it isn’t. You aren’t ready,” you heard a car pull up as Maria returned from a quick trip to the store. “You have no idea how to survive in this world. It will chew you up and spit you out.”

“I hate you,” you said, tears swelling in her eyes. You couldn’t help it. Natasha shook her head.

“No, you don’t. Shit poker face. Your eyes give away too much,” repeated the same thing you said to her. “Not that it’s bad, just surprising.”

“Screw you,” you snapped and ran towards the woods, ignoring Maria calling your name.

“Do I even want to know what happened?” Maria asked. Natasha put her hands on her hips and looked down at the grass.

“She wants to go home and I told her that as soon as she sets foot into the States he’ll kill her,” she sighed. “She said we could use her as bait and I may have said some other hurtful things.” Natasha heard her girlfriend sigh and walk over to her. With gentle hands, she lifted Natasha’s head to force her to look up. Green eyes stared into warm brown ones.

“Why are you pushing her away, my love?” Maria whispered, gently pushing away a tear. Natasha didn’t realize she was crying.

“This won’t last,” Natasha whispered. “Once she’s safe she’ll go back to a new family and I’ll never see her again. I can’t,” she cleared her throat. “I can’t handle growing close to her and then having her ripped away from me,” Maria brought her into a hug, cradling her head. Natasha felt her fingers run through her hair. Maria’s steady heartbeat helped the Black Widow’s heart calm down. Maria smelt like sandalwood and rain but it reminded Natasha of home. Maria stepped back, keeping her arms wrapped around her.

“But wouldn’t a little pain be worth it so you experience having her now as you’ve always dreamt about,” Maria pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “Love her now because you have the chance to.” Natasha let out a shaky breath.

“I love you,” the Russian whispered. “I don’t think I could do this without you.” Maria kissed her softly.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby, I’m right here.”

“Kid,” you spun around to see the Black Widow behind you. You weren’t surprised she found you on a small rock near the stream’s edge. “You said you want to go home fine but I’m going to train you.”

“Train?” You questioned.

“Yes,” she crossed her arms. “Once word gets out who you are, that man won’t be the only one after you. I was right when I said you won’t survive this world so I’m going to make sure you can. I won’t always be around to save you,” she added on quickly. Her statement made your stomach drop but there was a crack in her pocket face. She was lying.

“Okay,” you whispered, instead of calling her out on it.

“Okay,” Natasha repeated. “Come on, Maria is cooking enchiladas.” You stood up, wiping the dirt off your pants, and followed the Black Widow back to the camper.

Training started the following morning. You were up when Natasha went for her run and you joined her. It's been a while since you had to use your full speed to catch up with someone. Natasha was a lot faster than your 5th-grade classmates. After you ran, it was a quick breakfast then strength training and hand-to-hand combat. Maria would stop the two of you for lunch then it was weapon training. That was your favorite. Instead of nightly movies, you spent your time watching fight sequences and going over old mission reports to enhance your battle strategy.

It has hard and back-breaking work but you loved it. It reminded you of when your dad would take you to his poker games and gave you the job of reading his opponents. No one expected a little girl to have a better poker face than a 40-year-old man. Even though Natasha was yelling orders at you, it was the closest you felt to the Black Widow. Was it the healthiest way to bond with the mother that abandoned you? No, but she and Maria were all you had. You liked the proud smile Natasha tried to hide when you did something well or Maria’s gentle hands to help clean the cuts and bruises you received from the day’s training. It was nice, you felt like a family no matter how grueling the training sessions were.

“You're holding back,” Natasha said. You were sparing with the Black Widow with Maria off to the side, watching. You were exhausted. The couple already put you through a 5-mile run and intense strength training. Natasha promised this was the last thing for the day if you managed to pin her. Easier said than done. “Come on, kid, push.”

“I’m trying,” you said, putting your hands over your head, trying to get more air in your lungs.

“When you're tired this is how you grow and learn. Now come get me,” you rushed her but Natasha grabbed your arm and threw you back to the ground. You groaned, staring up at the blue sky. “Come on get up. Do you think he’ll or anyone will let you have a break?” You huffed and stood back up. “This is how you survive. You get knocked down 100 times and you keep getting up because if you don’t you will die.” You sighed, wiping the sweat off your forehead. Think and breathe. Think and breathe. It was like a game of poker. You had to make her think you were going to do something then change your attack. Who knew your parents were training you to be an Avenger? Natasha said you were holding back so you weren’t going to. You sighed, bouncing on your toes, and sprinted towards her. She expected it since it was the same move you went for prior but when she went to grab your arm, you grabbed her and twisted it behind her back. She was quick to escape and you jumped back, creating distance between you and her. There was a smile dancing on her lips but you ignored it. You had to focus.

She made the first move and punched with her right but you blocked it with your forearm. You blocked a few of her blows and hit her a few times in the stomach. She stumbled backward and you surged forward. You grabbed one of her arms and the other went behind her neck. You turned into her, sticking your right foot into her leg, and used the momentum to fling her over your body and onto the ground. You put your knee into her chest and stared down at her. You stared at your reflection in her green eyes. You didn’t recognize the look in your blue eyes but you’ve seen it before. The man with the metal arm had the same look in his blue eyes. It scared you, seeing your eyes void of all emotions and mimicking the glare of that man. Your eyes were dark, losing the light that your parents loved so much. They were void of the color so many people envied. You were terrified of yourself.

With shaky legs, you stepped away from Natasha and Maria was already walking over. “That man who's after me, what’s his name?” You asked, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Natasha stood up and the couple had a silent conversation with one another.

“He’s called the Winter Soldier,” Maria said. “HYDRA’s deadliest assassin.” You recognized the name HYDRA, a name said in passing at one of your dad’s poker games. You looked at Natasha.

“Who is he to me?” You questioned. Her jaw clenched. “Tell me!” You demanded.

“He’s your father,” she said simply. You weren’t sure if it made it worse or better. “The Red Room decided to work along with HYDRA to create the perfect weapon,” there was a deep sadness edged in every one of her words. She looked away from you and towards the woods. Your stomach turned. You were a product of a forced relationship.

“Does he know?” Natasha shrugged.

“I don’t know,” her voice shook. “They did this horrible thing to reset him and wipe his memory. I don’t even think he remembers me,” Maria gently took her girlfriend’s hand in hers. You felt cold all of a sudden. Every one of the weird quirks that made you different now had an explanation.

“Uh okay,” you nodded your head. “I need a minute.” You turned around and walked into the camper, making a beeline for the bathroom and closing the door behind you. Your hands shook as you turned on the water and splashed water on your face. You tried to regulate your breathing; in for 5, out for 5, in for 5, and out for 5 but it wasn’t helping. Bile was rising in your throat. Did Natasha have a choice? Did they have a relationship together or was it forced? You closed the toilet seat and you sat down, your legs finally gave out.

HYDRA was a name whispered once or twice at your dad’s poker game. Your parents must have known who your biological parents were. Did they care? Did they realize the mistake they made before it was too late? You sighed, biting down on a towel and letting out a scream. You hoped the towel would muffle it.

Maria found you sitting on the couch with one of Natasha’s pistols and a timer. Like playing poker or another card game, you found that dismantling a gun and putting it back together calmed your racing mind. You glanced at the agent. “Where’s Nat?” You asked.

“Ran to the store,” you nodded. Maria sat down next to you, taking the gun from your hands. “Maybe we should talk instead of playing with a gun.”

“There is nothing to talk about,” you stared at the TV. “I mean I find out my biological mother is an Avenger and my father is a feared assassin who is trying to kill me,” you felt your throat burn as tears threatened to escape. “My adoptive parents are dead and I’m pretty sure they were the reason he found me,” you folded your hands together, squeezing them. “I finally have answers to so many questions but now I don’t want them because I feel so alone,” you sighed, angrily whipping your face. “But I’m so fucking fine.”

“Language,” she gasped. You looked at the woman and laughed at the teasing smile on her face. “I want to show you something,” she stood up and grabbed a small box next to the TV. She handed it to you. “It was part of the arrangement,” you opened the box and saw pictures of you at all stages of your life. “Natasha agreed to give you up in return she got pictures of you and was notified if you were in trouble.” Maria sighed, picking up one of the pictures. “I know it’s very hard to see but she loves you very much even if she doesn’t say it,” you closed the box, whipping away a tear that fell. “And you aren’t alone. You have us.”

“But when the mission is over, what happens to me then?” You asked.

“What do you want?” You weren’t expecting the question, not thinking you had a choice in the matter.

“I know what I want,” you answered. “But I don’t think I can have it.”

Natasha didn’t join you and Maria for dinner. She was outside, drinking from a bottle of vodka when you joined her. The only light was from the stars and the small camping light. You sat down next to her on the top of the picnic table. “Are you hungry?” You asked. “I can go get you something.” She smiled.

“Not hungry, kid, but thank you.” You nodded, watching her take another sip from the bottle.

“I’m sorry,” you told her, looking up at the stars so you couldn’t see her face. “This probably hasn’t been easy for you since I’m a constant reminder of everything. Plus I know I haven’t made it easy for you.”

“This is not your fault. I should have been honest with you from the beginning. It just,” Natasha sighed. “Hurt too much.” You nodded, that you understood. Silence fell between you and her.

“I asked Maria what was going to happen to me once the Winter Soldier situation was over. She asked what I wanted,” you looked at her. “Do you know what I want?” You asked. She shook her head. “I want to go live with you and Maria and meet the other Avengers.” The shock was evident on her face.

“Why?” She whispered.

“Because you're my mom,” you whispered back. “And I know I’ll be safe as long as I’m with you.” Natasha let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head.

“Your innocence was stolen because of all this,” she whispered, pushing some of your red hair behind your ear. “I will send out an army to find you even in the middle of the darkest nights. I will rescue you,” she whipped away a few of your tears that fell. You didn’t realize you were crying. “There is no distance that cannot be covered. I’ll be your shelter and armor. There was never a moment you were forgotten or I wasn’t thinking about you.”

“I can’t,” your voice shook. “I can’t lose any more people in my life. I think it will break me.” She pulled you into a hug and something inside you snapped. You cried. You finally cried against her.

“Sh, dorogoy (sweetheart),” Natasha whispered, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I’m right here. I won’t go anywhere.” You heard the camper door open but you didn’t move from the Black Widow’s arms. You felt the table move as Maria sat down on your other side. Without looking you intertwined your fingers with Maria. She squeezed your hand. “We won’t leave you. We are right here.” You nodded your head against Natasha. You so wanted to believe them but there was a theme of people coming into your life and leaving. Maybe you were the problem.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Maria whispered. “Let’s go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.” You nodded, removing yourself from Natasha. ‘Along the day,’ you thought, ‘It’s been the longest few weeks of your life. What’s one more long day?’

Part 2

#inspired by music #marvel one shot #natasha romanoff x maria hiill #Maria Hill x Natasha Romanoff #blackhill #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x you #maria hill x you #maria hill x daughter!reader #blackhill x reader #blackhill x daughter!reader #blackhill x you #natasha romanoff x winter solider #black widow one shot #black widow fanfiction

821 notes · View notes

natsaffection · 3 months

Text

Trust | N.R

Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

‼️I ask those who may be triggered by drugs, addiction or Mental health issues not to read this story.‼️

Summary: You dealing with drug addiction post the loss of your girlfriend, Kate. Natasha aids you through withdrawal, relapses, and recovery.

Warnings: explicit descriptions of Drug use, withdrawal, Mental Health, Angst, Angst, Angst

Word count: 8,9k

A/n: Okayyy, something different today. PLEASE if you want/need help, you always can come to me. I know that I'm not qualified to be a contact person on this topic, but I'm open to everything and am here for support.🫂

You feel a lingering fear of sharing your newfound feelings for Kate, despite Natasha's reassuring presence. The uncertainty gnawed at you, making you hesitate before bringing up a topic you'd never spoken openly about before.

“Nat,” you began hesitantly, your eyes reflecting a mix of nervousness and curiosity. “Um, can I ask you something personal?”

Natasha, sharp as ever, nodded with an encouraging smile. “Of course, Y/N. You can ask me anything."

You take a deep breath, your words stumbling slightly. “Well, you know, about…feelings. How did you feel when you realized you liked women?”

A subtle change in Natasha's expression showed you understanding. She leaned back and turned her thoughtful gaze to you. “It’s like a journey..Recognizing that you are attracted to women, or anyone, can be both liberating and confusing. Society may have its expectations, but the heart knows what it wants.”

Carefully, you listened intently as Natasha continued, “It's about being attracted to someone, wanting to be close to them, and caring deeply for their well-being. It's not always loud or dramatic; sometimes it's a quiet understanding that grows over time."

You took in Natasha's words, a subtle smile playing on your lips. Encouraged by Natasha's wisdom, you hesitated for a moment before revealing your own feelings. "Well, there's someone on the team...Kate...and I don't know, I just feel different around her. It’s like my heart skips a beat when she’s around and I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Natasha, with a knowing gleam in your eyes, teased you gently, “Ah, young love. It sounds like you’ve already figured it out, Y/N.”

Blushing, you confessed, “I never thought I would feel this way. It’s confusing, but… it feels good.”

Natasha laughed heartily and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Love is often like that, Y/N. Take your time, enjoy the journey, and don't be afraid to explore those feelings. Life is full of surprises."

With Natasha's guidance and a newfound understanding, you embarked on the gentle path of love discovery, with Kate's presence in your heart casting a gentle glow on the canvas of possibilities before you.

And it was good that you confided in Natasha. Not just with tips, but now also with actions. It didn't take long for Kate to notice your feelings. You still remember hiding from her when you found out she found out. But it turns out that Kate also felt the same about you and had spoken to Clint about tips.

And that was almost 2 years ago now. The team was happy when you made your relationship public and supported you every step of the way. Since then, the tower has also become a little brighter.

Kate and you once decided to cook a meal together and you turned the kitchen into a lively space full of laughter and shared glances. Steve, curious about the excitement, joined you and offered to add his touch to the recipe. Amid the chaos, Natasha couldn't help but smile at the domestic bliss that was unfolding.

Or when The Team met for a movie night and you both immediately secured the prime spot on the couch. As the movie began, Tony joked, "I hope you two left some room for the rest of us.." Laughter echoed through the room as you and Kate playfully made room for the others.

Everyone was happy for you both. When Kate planned a surprise date night, she whisked herself away to a rooftop deck decorated with fairy lights and a picnic offering. The team in on the plan secretly helped create the romantic atmosphere. Natasha, watching from a distance, couldn't help but appreciate the love that had blossomed among their ranks.

These sweet and heartwarming moments highlighted the joy and camaraderie you and Kate brought to the team, creating a fabric of shared experiences and laughter within the walls of the Tower.

・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・

In the shadow of a moonlit night, the Avengers set out on a mission with an atmosphere of tension hanging heavy in the air. You and Kate, now a formidable duo, moved with precision, your every step choreographed by years of shared experiences and unspoken understanding. However, the mission took an unexpected turn when a swarm of enemies descended on them.

Amid the chaos of the mission, you two were temporarily separated and each placed with other team members. The air crackled with tension as the enemies closed in, testing the Avengers' courage. You, who was fighting alongside another teammate, felt a shiver run down her spine as a call echoed through her communication device.

“Y/n, we need you here. Now!” Steve’s urgent voice cut through the commotion, sending a chilling sense of foreboding through your veins. Panic gripped your heart as you sprinted across the battlefield, dodging incoming threats with the determination to reach them.

When you arrived at the scene, your worst fears came true before your eyes. The team, a gathering, stood around Kate's fallen form in a heartbreaking tableau. Natasha's typically stoic expression betrayed deep sadness and Steve's eyes, which were usually a beacon of hope, were clouded with sadness.

Your legs felt like lead as you got closer, a disbelieving whisper escaping your lips. "No no no..."

Kate, lying amidst the team's muted grief, managed a weak smile as you knelt next to her. “H-Hey,” she croaked, blood staining her lips. Your hands shook as you reached out, a desperate attempt to hold on to the slipping threads of life.

“Kate... We can fix this. Someone, help her!” your voice rose to a desperate plea as your eyes scanned the team for a glimmer of hope. But the weight of realization eased as the team exchanged dark looks.

Natasha, her voice barely above a whisper, spoke words that cut through the sorrow. “Y/n, it’s-.”

"NO!" The team that witnessed the heartbreaking exchange was in collective fear. Clint, his otherwise sharp mind silenced, stared at the scene with tear-streaked eyes. Natasha, a pillar of strength now crumbling, approached with a heavy heart, knowing the cruel truth that was unfolding before them.

Kate gathered her last reserves of strength and raised a hand to gently caress your cheek. "I think it's my time... Promise me...promise me you'll keep fighting, p-please.."

“I can’t lose you, Kate. I can’t,” you choked on your words, your hands shaking as you held on to the fleeting fragments of a love that was slipping away from you.

“Help her! Please, someone help her!” your pleas fell on deaf ears as the team stood in collective grief, each struggling with the weight of an irreparable tragedy.

The air became filled with sadness as Kate's breathing grew weaker. With one last, tender look, she whispered, "I will always be with you," before she closed her eyes and the battlefield fell into sombre silence.

The team was heartbroken and defeated and grieved together. You, a shattered echo of your former self, clung to a memory of Kate's love, a bittersweet reminder of a sacrifice made in the name of heroism. In that moment, grief became a silent companion, and the Avengers retreated from the battlefield, forever scarred by the eerie specter of loss.

After Kate's death, you sought solace in the chaos of missions, using the relentless pursuit of danger as a temporary escape from the haunting grip of grief. Days blur into nights, and the weight of grief casts a shadow over your once vibrant spirit. The Avengers who witnessed the change watched with growing concern as you, once a beacon of hope, became a ruthless force on the battlefield.

One fateful day, as you prepared for a mission, the weight of the past weighed heavily on you. The team, unaware of the impending descent, prepared for the mission, unaware that their teammate had fallen into the shadow of violence and self-destruction.

As the mission unfolded, you acted with calculated ruthlessness, a dangerous sharpness to your actions that sent waves of unease throughout the team. Natasha, always perceptive, approached you in a moment of calm, her voice a solemn echo amid the chaos.

"We worry about you. That's not the way to cope," Natasha pleaded, a mix of concern and sadness in her eyes. But you, caught in the storm of grief, rejected the words, as your actions were evidence of a mind clouded by the shadows that loomed within it.

The mission reached its climax and in a frightening twist, you found yourself facing an enemy who felt the pain that fueled the ruthlessness. “I see the suffering in you,” the opponent remarked with a sinister grin on his lips. The rest of the team, unaware of the exchange, continued the mission.

When the dust settled, you once stood alone with a mysterious figure, struggling with the lingering echoes of violence. The adversary revealed knowledge of your past and led you down a darker path. “I know what you once were, what you have lost. I have something that can numb the pain,” they whispered treacherously, revealing a vial of medicine with the cruel promise of respite.

You hesitated in the shadows, your inner struggle reaching its peak. The lure of numbness, a fleeting escape from unrelenting torment, collided with the lasting memories of a time when happiness and laughter were not hidden in the shadows. The vial, a twisted offering of comfort, floated in the air, casting a long, ominous shadow over the broken soul of an Avenger trapped in the labyrinth of despair.

You were faced with a decision that you had already weighed many times. The pressure, the weight of loss and grief had piled up into a crushing weight on your soul. In a world surrounded by shadows, the seductive promises of drugs offered a tempting escape.

The decision came in a moment of silence, when the suffering that plagued you seemed unbearable. The room was flooded with a dim light as you held the small bag containing the seductive substance in your hands. The content, inconspicuous in appearance, held the promise of an escape from the painful realities of life.

The hesitation was brief, a fleeting moment before you made the decision that would change your fate. The drug you had heard would bring you comfort and oblivion became a companion in a lonely act of desperation.

As the substance found its way into your body, a wave of release coursed through your veins. A fleeting euphoria enveloped you, lulling your senses into a false peace. The weight of loss seemed to slip from your shoulders for a moment and the world took on an unreal glow.

But in the midst of this apparent consolation lurked the bitter irony of escape. The drug that appeared to be a savior unleashed a chain of illusory moments of happiness that snaked like shadows through your mind. The oblivion you sought turned out to be a nefarious game with reality.

As you gave in to the high, you had no idea that the supposed salvation was actually a pact with the demons who were just waiting to sink their claws deeper into your soul. The moment you first reached for the drugs became a dark turning point that steered your fate into an uncertain darkness. You told yourself it was just this once. but once became twice and that became dependency. You've found the best routine for yourself and the best way to hide it from your tea. everything went perfectly. You felt perfect

・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・

In the dimly lit corners of the city, Natasha navigated the shadows. While on a covert mission, she unexpectedly crossed paths with the mysterious figure who had played a sinister role in your descent into addiction a few weeks ago.

The shadowy figure leaned against a graffiti-covered alley and grinned as Natasha approached. “Well, if it’s not the Black Widow herself. The Avenger's pride and joy,” he sneered, his words dripping with a poisonous mix of mockery and malice.

Unimpressed, Natasha replied with an iron stare, “Save it. You’re dealing with forces you can’t handle.” The figure giggled, an eerie sound that echoed in the deserted alley. “Oh, I completely can. Your precious Avengers, addicted to what they are fighting. It’s really poetic.”

Natasha frowned in confusion and shot back, "You’re talking nonsense.” The figure leaned forward, a malicious grin playing on his lips. “Think about it. Your star Avenger, who you all put on a pedestal, danced with the devil. Drugs, darkness. your team is in ruins.”

A sinking feeling gripped Natasha's chest as she processed the revelation. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place and she understood the insidious truth behind his words. The figure, gloating over the chaos he had indirectly sowed among the Avengers, whispered one final taunt: “Your precious hero, addicted and broken. It’s almost beautiful, isn’t it?”

As Natasha left the encounter, the weight of the revelation rested on her shoulders. The Avengers, her family, were caught in a dangerous web, and the realization strengthened their resolve to unravel the darkness that threatened to consume them. The shadowy figure, a puppeteer reveling in the chaos, left Natasha with the grim awareness that the battle ahead was more than just physical - it was a battle against the intangible, the shadows that lurked in the hearts of those closest to her hearts lay.

Natasha, burdened with new suspicions, retreated to the Avengers compound with a storm of thoughts running through her head. As she walked through the familiar halls, an unsettling sense of foreboding cast a shadow over her normally calm demeanor.

She remembered the countless nights she had spent navigating the labyrinth of grief, the ghosts of her own past that had driven her into dark corners. The possibility that you too would succumb to a similar descent set alarm bells ringing in Natasha's experienced intuition.

The Avengers compound, once a haven of camaraderie, now seemed to echo with the haunting footsteps of uncertainty. As she navigated the team's daily hustle and bustle, Natasha couldn't shake the feeling that something profound had changed within its walls.

As she reviewed mission reports and team activities in the command center, Natasha's gaze found herself lingering on the patterns that emerged. You, once a living force, had become a phantom within the compound - missions, isolation, the echoes of isolation. A shiver of realization ran through Natasha as the puzzle pieces aligned with the shadowy figure's taunts.

Doubts gnawed at Natasha's resolve. She understood more than anyone the labyrinth of grief and the treacherous paths it could lead someone down. The idea that you had fallen into the grips of addiction was a haunting revelation that threatened to shatter the team's fragile balance.

A heavy sigh escaped Natasha's lips as she thought about the path that lay ahead of her. Her footsteps echoed with purpose as she made her way to your quarters, her inner conflict reflected in the furrow of her brow.

Natasha approached your room with a mix of determination and concern, ready to face the shadows that loomed within. But as she reached for the doorknob, a lingering feeling of emptiness came over her - the room was empty. The echo of silence in your quarters only added to Natasha's unease.

Looking for signs of your presence, her eyes fell on a flyer lying casually on the bedside table. The bright colors and bold typography hinted at a world beyond the Avengers compound – a world of pulsating music, flashing lights and escapism. A world that Natasha, all too familiar with her dual nature, recognized as a potential harbinger of trouble.

The flyer revealed the name of a club whose location was a landmark for those seeking refuge in the anonymity of the night. Natasha's jaw clenched as she connected the dots, the realization weighing like a lead weight on her chest. Tangled in the web of self-destruction, you had sought solace in the beating heart of the city's nightlife.

The decision was made quickly, driven by Natasha's unwavering determination to avert the impending crisis. She left your room, the flyer in her hand, and moved purposefully towards the exit of the premises. The walk to the club became a silent pilgrimage through the shadows, each step bearing the weight of an impending confrontation.

As Natasha approached the club's entrance, the rhythmic pounding of the bass and the neon lights pulsing through the night signaled the chaos that awaited her. With a deep breath, Natasha entered the realm where you had sought refuge - a world shrouded in darkness and fueled by the very substances that threatened to consume her.

The search for you in the club's dimly lit rooms became a thrilling exploration, guided by the menacing rhythm of the music and the scent of fleeting escape. Natasha, the relentless guardian, pushed forward through the sea of faces, driven by the urgency to intercept you before the shadows could claim another piece of her soul.

The club, a cacophony of pounding beats and swirling lights, drowned out the tumult in Natasha's heart as she set out on a quest to free you from the clutches of the night's embrace. The shadows grew darker, but Natasha, driven by unrelenting determination, walked through the darkness in search of the Avenger caught in the dangerous dance with self-destruction.

In the dimly lit alley, the distant bass tones of the nightclub echoed off the walls. She guided by an intuition honed through years of espionage, arrived just in time to witness a disturbing scene. You, caught in the web of distraction and vulnerability, were picked up by an older woman with questionable intentions.

Without hesitation, Natasha intervened. Quick as a flash, she positioned herself between you and the older woman, her eyes narrowing with steely determination. "Back off. She’s not interested.”

The older woman, momentarily surprised, attempted a defiant grin. “She seemed pretty interested inside. Mind your own business. But if you feel like it too, I don't mind sharing her.

Natasha, looked at the woman seriously. The look ran with a mix of graceful precision and controlled aggression. It didn't take long for the older woman to realize she was inferior.

As the woman retreated into the shadows, Natasha turned her attention to you, who stood swaying, caught between the haze of intoxication and the reality of what was unfolding. “What the hell are you doing? Do you even realize what just happened?”

Your gaze was unfocused and your pupils dilated, scoffing dismissively. “Mind your own business, Natasha. I can manage on my own.”

Natasha, whose voice held a mix of anger and concern, closed the distance between the two of you. “It’s my business if one of my team members gets out of control. What’s wrong with you, y/n?”

As Natasha's gaze pierced through the haze of your consciousness, the gravity of the situation became painfully clear. Caught in a cycle of self-destruction, you had sought refuge in substances that dulled the pain but fueled the chaos.

Natasha’s expression changed from anger to dark realization, “You’re not coping, Y/n. You're drowning. We have to do something.” You, fueled by a cocktail of emotions, lashed out with a sudden outburst of anger. “Why do you care, Natasha? You are not my mother. Leave me alone!"

Natasha refused to back down and spoke with a raw honesty that cut through the chaos. "Enough! I know what you're doing! So stop it!”

Y/n, caught off guard and exposed, reacted defensively. “You know absolutely nothing! What do you think you know about me, huh?”

Natasha, determined to break through the wall she had put up, reached out and tried to offer support. “I understand enough to know that you're feeling bad, and whatever you're trying to cover up with it isn't the solution. We are a team. Let us help you.”

But you, consumed by a whirlwind of emotions, didn't hear Natasha's request. Instead, you screamed in frustration, a primal release from your inner turmoil. "I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone!"

As your anger escalated, Natasha tried to hold it back with a mix of sadness and determination. You, lost in a haze of substance-induced rage, lashed out at Natasha, her movements fueled by a dangerous game of alcohol and drugs.

Natasha, strong yet gentle, tried to hold you back, but the fight continued. The alley, now a battlefield of broken emotions, echoed with your agonized screams. “Y/n, calm down. You’re not thinking clearly!” Your mind, clouded by the effects of the substances, continued to fight against Natasha's grip. "Let me go! I dont need your help!"

Natasha tried to break through the haze around you in a firm voice. “You’re not feeling well. We have to help you.” Caught in the whirlwind of emotions, lat du struck again. “I said let go!”

But Natasha, leaning on her own resilience, persevered and was determined to see you through the storm. The longer the moments lasted, the more your resistance weakened. Natasha's unwavering presence, a lifeline in the chaos, slowly seeped into the haze that enveloped your consciousness. “It's okay. I will help you with this.”

In the midst of the battle, a profound change occurred. You, overwhelmed by a sudden realization, stopped in Natasha's arms. The torrents of anger turned into quiet sobs, the weight of her own struggles easing.

Your voice was now a fragile whisper, choked with tears. "Something's wrong, Natasha.." Natasha, feeling the tremor of vulnerability, held you with a newfound tenderness.

・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・

The air in your room was heavy with the pungent smell of despair. With a heavy heart, Natasha entered the dimly lit room, caution evident on her face. You lay motionless on the bed, a stark contrast to the lively mind Natasha knew.

The creaking of the door went unnoticed as Natasha moved closer, her gaze lingering on the shell of the person in front of her.

Natasha carefully sat down on the bed next to you, the mattress sagging slightly under the weight of their shared loads. “Y/n,” she began, her voice weaving like a delicate thread through the oppressive silence. "We need to talk."

Your eyes, dull and lacking their usual spark, turned to meet Natasha's gaze. A heaviness spread across the room as the unspoken words loomed between them.

"I spoke to Bruce," Natasha admitted, choosing her words with careful precision. Your expression changed, a mix of curiosity and cautious skepticism.

"He thinks therapy might help," Natasha continued, bracing herself for the expected resistance. Your eyes, once full of defiance, now showed a weariness that broke Natasha's resolve.

"Therapy?" Your barely audible voice had a hint of contempt. The mere mention seemed to awaken a calm storm within them.

Natasha continued undeterred. “I know you don't like the idea, but we can't go on like this. You’re drowning and I can’t stand by and watch.”

Your gaze hardened, a silent protest forming in your eyes. “I'm not weak, Natasha. I don’t need a psychiatrist analyzing my every move.”

Although Natasha was hurt by the words, she stuck to her beliefs. “This is not about weakness. It's about finding a way to free yourself from the chains that bind you. Bruce thinks it might help.”

The room seemed to narrow as the tension of their conversation faded. Natasha, struggling with the intensity of the moment, reached out and grabbed your hand. The touch, once a source of comfort, now felt like a lifeline stretched thin.

Your eyes flickered, caught between defiance and a hint of vulnerability. Natasha's words, while harsh, were borne of a deep concern that went beyond their role as friends. "I know you're tired of feeling like this," Natasha continued, her voice cutting through the darkness with steady strength. “You deserve a chance to live without the weight of this situation weighing you down.”

The room, once a battlefield of silent fighting, became one where Natasha's conviction collided with your reluctance. “Bruce thinks this can help, and so do I. We can't keep dancing around the truth and hoping things will magically get better," Natasha assured, her gaze unwavering.

You, now faced with Natasha's unyielding determination, hesitated. The room echoed with the weight of their shared pain, the air filled with the anticipation of a decision that could change their journey.

“I can’t watch you slip away, Y/N,” Natasha admitted, her voice soft but determined. “You are not alone in this, but you need more than what I can give. Let’s give therapy a chance together.”

In this charged moment, your defense faltered. A silent agreement emerged between them, a shared recognition that the path to healing requires courage and collaboration. Despite the darkness that surrounded her, Natasha found a glimmer of hope in the small victory of breaking through the resistance of you.

The therapy sessions began with a hint of concern between you and the therapist, Dr. Reynolds. You, sitting in the dimly decorated room, shifted uncomfortably, looking around as if searching for an escape route from the vulnerability you were about to reveal.

Dr. Reynolds, a calm and empathetic presence, began gentle probing, trying to uncover the layers of your struggles. However, you found it difficult to articulate the chaos within. Although the room was intended for healing, it felt like an interrogation chamber.

Bruce, who was present as a support person, observed the dynamic and recognized the difficulty you faced opening up. Sensing the struggle, he interjected in a soothing tone. “It’s okay to take your time. Therapy is a process and we are here to help you get through it.”

Your eyes met Bruce's, a fleeting recognition of gratitude in the midst of the inner storm. Slowly, they began to share fragments of their journey, stumbling over the words as they tried to express the pain that lurked in the shadows of their past.

Dr. Reynolds guided you through the turbulent memories with compassionate understanding and helped you confront the root causes of your addiction. The room became a vessel for shared revelation, each session peeling back layers of pain and revealing the raw vulnerability you had hidden for far too long.

Bruce acted as a bridge between you and the therapeutic process, providing insights and perspectives that resonated with your experiences. His presence became a comforting constant, a reminder that healing was possible, even in the darkest recesses of the mind.

In the first few therapy sessions, Natasha, recognizing the sensitivity of the process, positioned herself at the door. Her presence, a silent but reassuring guardian, provided you with a bond of familiarity amidst the vulnerability of therapeutic exploration.

Finding it difficult to articulate the jumble of emotions, you occasionally glanced toward the door, finding comfort in the knowledge that Natasha was standing guard, offering her silent support. Although the room was an arena of introspection, it had a connection to the outside world - the world in which Natasha waited, a steadfast ally.

You thought this was the hard part, but you were so wrong. In the suffocating grip of withdrawal, you fell into a whirlpool of torment. Each passing moment was a relentless tide of physical and emotional torment, a relentless attack on her core.

Nausea, an unrelenting companion, cramped your stomach and left you doubled over in a desperate attempt to quell the churning abyss within you. Your sweat-soaked and trembling skin became a battlefield where the feverish heat fought against an inner cold that seemed to penetrate into your bones.

Natasha, who witnessed your suffering, felt a helpless pain in her chest. The room, once a sanctuary, now echoed with the agonized moans and gasps of someone caught in the merciless grip of retreat. Your eyes, once full of defiance, now had a haunted look - a reflection of the torment within.

Every muscle screamed in protest, a symphony of pain that seemed to reverberate through the fabric of your being. Although it was silent, the walls of the room seemed to close in, increasing the dissonance of your suffering.

Although Natasha was torn by the sight before her, she remained unwaveringly present. She tenderly wiped the cold sweat from your forehead, her touch a fleeting comfort in the midst of the storm. As your body writhed under the relentless symptoms, Natasha's words became a tale of resilience - an anthem to drown out the haunting whispers of doubt. “Look at me, Y/N,” Natasha urged, their eyes meeting. “This pain is temporary, but your strength is permanent. You are fighting for a better future and I am here with you." But the helplessness in Natasha's eyes betrayed the turmoil within her, a silent plea to ease the torment that seemed to consume you.

Your gasping gasps became a symphony of desperation, of fighting an invisible force that threatened to drown you in a sea of despair. In this cruel dance of withdrawal, Natasha, who stood by your side, was confronted with the harsh reality that the road to recovery was often paved with moments of agonizing suffering.

The second day dawned with a faint glimmer of relief as the hard grip of retreat began to loosen its grip. Although you still struggled with residual symptoms, you found comfort in the lessening intensity of the physical torment. Natasha, who was constantly present, continued to offer me encouragement.

As the morning sun bathed the room in a soft glow, Natasha helped you master the delicate balance between rehydration and nutrition. Every sip of water, every bite of food meant a small victory

Throughout the day, Natasha guided you through gentle exercises to ease the stiffness that remained from the long ordeal. Although the conversations were muffled by the echoes of disengagement, they began to turn to topics that went beyond the immediate struggle - a subtle sign of emerging resilience.

The third day heralded further relief from the physical strain, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief. Attuned to the intricacies of recovery, Natasha felt the gradual return of vitality. Together you ventured out of the room and moved through the common areas of the tower with cautious optimism.

Therapy sessions resumed, providing you with a structured opportunity to process the emotional impact of withdrawal. Although Natasha was aware of the delicate nature of the journey ahead, she offered words of encouragement and reinforced the idea that each day of recovery was a triumph over the shadows.

Outside, the tower was bustling with activity, a vibrant backdrop to the ongoing healing process. Even though you were aware of the fragility of your newfound stability, you somehow appreciated the support of the team and the encouraging nods and smiles from Natasha - a testament to the shared commitment to overcome the challenges that remained after the withdrawal were.

As therapy progressed, your evolving focus and growing comfort in the therapeutic space became apparent. Natasha, watching from her post, noticed a spark of determination in your eyes, a spark that seemed to grow brighter with each session.

The therapy room, once an intimidating space, transformed into a sanctuary where vulnerabilities were exposed and healing began to take root. And outside that door remained Natasha, a pillar of strength, ready to welcome you back into the world with open arms, knowing that the road to recovery was a shared endeavor.

In the quiet evening hours, Natasha found herself in the living room, deep in conversation with some other team members. Laughter and camaraderie filled the room, momentarily easing the weight of their shared burdens.

As the animated chatter continued, Natasha's eyes wandered to the hallway and she caught a glimpse of movement. Once trapped in the shadows of your room, you cautiously stepped out and made your way to the kitchen.

A subtle change in Natasha's expression conveyed a mix of emotions - surprise, hope and a hint of concern. The living room became a silent theater in which the unfolding scene promised progress. The others in the room were unaware of the meaning and continued their discussions.

Although you moved hesitantly, you radiated a new sense of determination. Walking from your room to the kitchen became a symbolic step toward independence, a silent proclamation that resonated louder than words.

Natasha, watching discreetly, felt a wave of pride and relief. The living room that now served as the backdrop for this subtle victory became a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. In that unspoken moment, Natasha glimpsed a future where you, once imprisoned by the chains of addiction, could navigate the common spaces of the tower with renewed strength and purpose.

In the quiet aftermath of a transformative month, you faced the outside world with new resilience..However, life tests one's resolve.

Weeks passed and you were alone in your room, you sift through the remnants of your past. Among forgotten belongings, you came across a hidden stash of old drugs - a relic from a time you wanted to leave behind. The sight triggered a flood of memories, each a whisper, leading her to accept what you were for you fought so hard.

A tumultuous internal struggle ensued as you seized the contraband. The room seemed to close in, the weight of the past weighing on you. Despite the progress you've made, a voice inside you whispered seductively, urging you to once again surrender to the familiar comfort of escape.

Knowing what needed to be done, you glanced at the door and considered the journey down the hallway to Natasha's room. But an invisible force held you back, a stubborn resistance to revealing the remnants of a darker chapter.

Natasha's words echoed in your head, "You're not alone in this." Despite the internal conflict, you couldn't shake the awareness that you needed to reach out. The inner tug of war intensified, the battle between progress and regression becoming evident in the quiet confines of your room.

What's the harm in giving in just one more time? Only once?

Your shaking hands betrayed your inner turmoil as you succumbed to the lure of the old drugs. The room seemed to close in, the weight of your choice settling on you. A wave of guilt and regret washed over you, but the temporary escape offered a strange comfort.

In the silence of your room, you struggled with the decision, the lure of familiar numbness clouding the progress you had fought so hard for. The realization that they had chosen a temporary reprieve over a long-term cure sunk deep within them.

As the effects took hold, you caught a glimpse of a reflection in the mirror. A look that was filled with both disappointment and resignation. The space that had once been a sanctuary now felt like a prison of your own making.

In the dimly lit kitchen, you moved with an unsettling calm, your eyes glazing over as the effects of the drugs took hold. Finding food became a mechanical task, a distraction from the reality you wanted to escape.

Natasha entered the kitchen, her face lighting up at the sight of you. “Hey, I was just coming to get something to eat with you. How are you feeling?” she asked with genuine warmth in her voice, unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface.

You managed a weak smile, a feeble attempt to hide the chaos inside. Little did Natasha know that the steps she had taken moments ago were leading you down a dark path. Again.

As Natasha's gaze lingered on you, a subtle change in the air betrayed her intuition. Recognition dawned in her eyes, a moment of quiet understanding that penetrated the façade. The pride she had felt moments ago turned into the poignant realization that her battle with addiction was far from over.

Natasha's expression hardened, a mix of disappointment and concern crossing her face. “Y/n, what did you…” she began, her words trailing off as the truth became obvious. The kitchen, once a sanctuary for shared meals and camaraderie, was transformed into a battlefield where the consequences of a moment's oversight were laid bare.

You managed a casual shrug, trying to downplay the severity. “Just a little relapse, Nat. No big deal,” you reply with a casual tone, as if revealing your own struggle was inconsequential.

Natasha's eyes narrowed, her concern turning to seething anger. "No big deal?" she replied, her voice full of disappointment. “We fought so hard and you treat it like it’s nothing? Do you realize what this is about?”

You try to brush it off, but fail under Natasha's intense scrutiny. Natasha's anger swirled with a deep sense of betrayal as she faced the reality of your choices.

"I thought you were committed to this, to your own well-being," Natasha continued, her anger tempered with a hint of heartbreak. The air crackled with tension, a clear departure from the camaraderie that once filled the room. “Nat, it was just a temporary thing. I can handle it,” you insisted, a feeble attempt to salvage her own sense of control.

"I thought you understood!" Natasha continued, her frustration rising to a desperate plea for understanding. "You risked everything!" Natasha's voice reached a crescendo, echoes of her anger reverberating off the walls. “Where did you get it from? Do you have more?”

She asked you now and you actually thought about what you wanted to say, “I told you it wasn't that bad! It was just a bag that I found, my God, don’t get so worked up now!”

As Natasha’s rage reached its peak, she stormed into Your room with a determination that left no room for escape. The door slammed shut behind her, sealing the room in an atmosphere of tense confrontation. You were surprised and felt a wave of fear rise within you as Natasha's anger grew stronger.

In a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of control, your fear turned to anger. The muffled sounds of Natasha rummaging through your belongings triggered a wave of frustration and you began banging on the door with increasing intensity.

“Natasha, what the hell are you doing?!” You screamed, your voice a mix of anger and desperation. The room, once a private sanctuary, now reverberated with the cacophony of emotions bouncing against the walls.

Inside, driven by the determination to uncover the truth, Natasha continued her tireless search. In the search for answers, drawers were opened and belongings were scattered. The atmosphere in the room reflected the storm outside the closed door, a storm of conflicting emotions that blurred the line between frustration and anger.

Your screams grew louder, a blunt expression of the turmoil raging within. “Stop going through my things! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO DO THIS!!” You scream and pound your fists against the unyielding door. The room became a battlefield where emotions clashed, and each blow on the door reflected the discord between the two souls locked in a battle against the shadows.

Amid the chaos, Natasha's hand closed around a small stash of pills. A discovery that only heightened the gravity of the situation. The air crackled with tension as the locked door witnessed a confrontation that transcended the physical realm and dissolved the threads of trust and resilience that had once held them together.

The moment Natasha left your room, holding the damning evidence in her hand, the air between you crackled with unbridled tension. You, still seething with anger, wanted to unleash a flood of emotions, but when your eyes fell on the pills, fear suddenly gripped your heart.

Desperation gripped you as you tried to intercept Natasha on her way to the kitchen. “Natasha, w-wait! You can’t do that!” You beg, your voice sounding urgent. But Natasha, determined to her mission, proved too strong and brushed aside your attempts to intervene.

In the kitchen, Natasha approached the sink, determination written all over her face. You, desperate and excited, continued to beg her to reconsider. “Natasha, please, just listen! Y-You don’t understand what it’s like,” you cried, her words a desperate plea for understanding.

The first pill landed on the bottom of the sink, setting off a cascade of emotions that echoed through the room. Your protests grew louder and more frantic, but Natasha, undeterred, continued to dismiss the remnants of your hidden struggle.

As Natasha took the last pill, a wave of pent up and festering emotions erupted within you. In a moment of pure frustration and desperation, you stopped. “STOP IT, NATASHA! YOU DONT GET IT!"

The commotion caught the attention of others in the tower. They watched wide-eyed and curious as the conflict between Natasha and you escalated into a full-on confrontation. The once harmonious space now reverberated with the dissonance of broken trust and unbridled emotions.

Driven to the edge, you lunge at Natasha, a storm of rage driving you forward. Natasha, reflexes sharpened by years of training, dodged the attack, redirecting the force and pinning you against the wall. The impact reverberated with a thud, and the room was momentarily silent from the collision of bodies.

“Enough, Y/N! We had that before!" Natasha's voice cut through the air, her eyes shining with a mix of frustration and concern. She held you in place, a physical manifestation of the turmoil that gripped their journey together. "Why? Why are you throwing away all the progress we've made?" Natasha demanded, her own feelings bubbling to the surface.

You were trapped against the wall, struggling against Natasha's grip, your voices rising to a crescendo as the echoes of their confrontation reached the team's ears, witnessing a painful rupture in the unity that had once defined their shared battle with addiction .

Natasha, her nerves frayed and her patience exhausted, let out a guttural scream that echoed through the walls of the kitchen. The sound, raw and primal, rang in the air like a storm of pent-up frustration and exhaustion. In that moment, every ounce of restraint crumbled, and Natasha's roar became a visceral release - an expression of the unrelenting pressure that had been building within her. "WHY CAN’T YOU SEE WHAT YOUR’E DOING?!" She roared, the intensity of hers Voice sounded with a ferocity born of frustration and desperation.

You, pressed against the wall, feel the force of Natasha's anger like a physical weight pressing down on you. Natasha's screams, now filled with raw and unfiltered rage, broke through the façade of composure and revealed the extent of her emotions.

The kitchen, once a place of communal eating and laughter, now echoed with the unbridled fury of Natasha's screams. It was a cry that tried to penetrate the walls of denial, to break through the layers of self-deception that obscured your struggles. Every word, every syllable bore the weight of countless battles fought in the shadows.

“Why do you keep destroying yourself? Do you even care about the people who are trying to help you?" Natasha's voice reached a feverish pitch, her scream interrupted by the harsh truth she dared to speak. “I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself like this! What more do you want from me?” Natasha’s cry of bitter resignation hung in the air like an unanswered request.

As Natasha's screams subsided, the raw aftereffects of her anger lingered in the air. Tears welled up in her eyes, reflecting a mix of frustration, disappointment, and an overwhelming feeling of helplessness.

"I-Ican't do this anymore.." Natasha's words, now a torrent of tears and heartache, flooded the room. The once adamant agent was vulnerable, her anger tempered by the heartbreaking realization that her efforts might be in vain.

You, still reeling from the force of Natasha's anger, met her tear-filled gaze with a mixture of guilt and sadness. The atmosphere in the kitchen went from a storm of anger to a haunting silence, broken only by Natasha's tearful plea. It was a request that hung heavy in the air - a desperate cry for you to realize the gravity of the situation and the toll it was taking on your connection.

You, battered by Natasha's verbal attacks, could only respond with a weak "I-I'm s-sorry.." But Natasha was not appeased. “A sorry won’t fix this, Y/N! This is about trust, the foundation of OUR recovery!” Her anger was like a storm that swept through the room, leaving devastation in its wake.

As Natasha's tirade continued, you, caught in the vortex, finally broke down as well. Tears streamed down their faces, the weight of guilt and the pain of Natasha's anger becoming an unbearable burden. “I want to get clean, Nat, I really d-do..!” They screamed in desperate voices amidst the chaos.

Natasha's anger wavered for a moment and was replaced by a piercing sadness. “Then why did you do that? Why did you throw everything away?" she demanded, her voice a mix of betrayal and heartbreak. "I don't know..."

Your voice shook as you avoided Natasha's gaze as you said, "I... I want to get clean, Natasha. For myself, but also for you..please..” The words hung in the air, laden with the weight of guilt and the deep desire for redemption.

Natasha, sensing the genuine turmoil in your admission, hugged you comfortingly, a silent gesture that spoke volumes. You, unable to meet Natasha's gaze, felt a flood of emotions welling up inside you and tears streaming down your cheeks.

As the tears mingled, Natasha whispered soothing words, a promise that echoed in the silent room. The journey ahead remained uncertain, but in that tender moment, you and Natasha found a shared commitment - a fragile but sincere agreement to face the daunting road to recovery together.

・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the cityscape as Natasha parked the car outside the rehabilitation clinic. The air was thick with a mix of anticipation and anxiety as you stepped out, the weight of the past few months hanging heavily in the air.

The entrance of the clinic loomed ahead, its sterile facade a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded in your life. As you walked through the automatic doors, a sense of trepidation and determination battled within.

The clinical white walls and hushed tones of the facility marked a departure from the familiar surroundings of the Avengers compound. This was a space where healing took precedence, a space where the journey to recovery would unfold.

Natasha accompanied you to the reception area, her presence a source of silent strength. The receptionist handed you a small plastic card – a symbol of the commitment to sobriety that lay ahead.

“Here’s your room key and schedule, Y/N. Your counselor will meet with you shortly. Welcome to the clinic.”

As you made your way to the assigned room, the sterile hallways seemed to echo with the weight of countless stories of struggle and redemption. The door opened to a modest room, devoid of the familiar belongings that once defined your space.

The first night in the clinic passed in a blur of emotions – a mixture of anxiety, hope, and the raw reality of withdrawal. The absence of substances that had become a crutch left you vulnerable, the intensity of the cravings clawing at your resolve.

Natasha, though not physically present in the room, had become a constant presence in your thoughts. The echoes of her support and determination acted as a lifeline, grounding you in moments of weakness.

The counselor, a compassionate figure experienced in guiding individuals through recovery, became a confidant. The sessions were intense, delving into the root causes of your addiction, and the painful memories that fueled the spiral into darkness.

Days turned into nights, marked by a routine of therapy sessions, group discussions, and the gradual easing of withdrawal symptoms. The camaraderie with fellow residents, each battling their own demons, offered a sense of shared strength and understanding.

In the midst of this, Natasha continued to play a pivotal role. Her letters and occasional visits acted as a bridge connecting the clinic’s sterile environment with the warmth of the outside world. The words she penned were a lifeline, a reminder of the love and support waiting beyond the clinic walls.

Weeks passed, and the initial turbulence of withdrawal began to subside. The fog of cravings lifted, revealing moments of clarity and self-discovery. The connection between mind and body, once distorted by substance abuse, gradually began to mend.

Natasha’s visits became a source of motivation. Her proud smiles and encouraging words fueled your determination to overcome the shadows that had threatened to consume you. The bond between you and Natasha, tested by the storms of addiction, emerged stronger in the crucible of recovery.

As the three-month milestone approached, a mix of emotions surged within. The plastic card that had once symbolized vulnerability now stood as a testament to resilience. The journey through the clinic had been a battle against the shadows, a battle waged with the unwavering support of Natasha and the newfound strength within.

The final counseling session arrived, marking the end of the structured environment that had become a cocoon for your transformation. The counselor’s words carried a sense of pride, acknowledging the progress made and emphasizing the importance of continued vigilance in the outside world.

The last night in the clinic was a bittersweet moment – a farewell to the routines and safety nets that had defined this chapter. As you stood outside the clinic’s entrance, Natasha’s presence by your side reflected the shared victory over the shadows that had threatened to consume you.

The journey from the clinic back to the Avengers compound was a silent reflection of the miles traveled – both in physical distance and the depths of self-discovery. The walls of the familiar compound welcomed you back, the echoes of camaraderie and shared battles resounding in the air.

As you stepped into the Avengers compound, the weight of the plastic card in your hand felt both symbolic and grounding. The sense of accomplishment mingled with the awareness that the journey continued beyond the clinic walls.

Natasha, beside you, offered a reassuring presence. The shared glances spoke volumes – a silent understanding that the road to recovery was an ongoing process, a commitment to face the challenges that awaited.

As the door to your room in the Avengers compound swung open, a wave of warmth and welcome enveloped you. The room, once stark and sterile, had transformed into a haven of celebration. A large banner hung across the wall, bearing the words "Welcome Home, Y/N – We're Proud of You!"

The room was adorned with colorful decorations, each carefully chosen to radiate positivity and encouragement. Balloons danced in the air, carrying messages of support, and a bouquet of vibrant flowers sat on the bedside table, a burst of nature's beauty against the neutral backdrop.

The scent of freshly baked cookies wafted through the air, an irresistible aroma that beckoned you further into the room. A plate of cookies, lovingly arranged, awaited your arrival – a sweet gesture to mark the beginning of a new chapter. "Thought you might need a little treat. You've earned it."

A care package rested on the bed, filled with thoughtful items to make the transition back to the compound smoother. A cozy blanket, a journal for reflections, and a collection of inspiring books formed a personalized ensemble – each item chosen to nurture the mind, body, and soul.

Natasha handed you a small envelope. As you opened it, a collection of heartfelt letters from fellow Avengers spilled out – words of encouragement, shared memories, and expressions of pride in your journey. The bonds of camaraderie had never felt stronger.

Steve's letter read: "Y/N, welcome back. We missed you. Your strength is an inspiration to us all."

Bruce's note carried a touch of humor: "Who knew we'd be celebrating with cookies? Just remember, I've got green tea ready whenever you need it."

The room had been transformed into a celebration of your triumph over the shadows of addiction. The collective efforts of the Avengers, led by Natasha, had created an environment that echoed with gratitude, love, and an unwavering commitment to your well-being.

As you took in the sight of the welcoming room, Natasha offered a reassuring smile.

Natasha: "This is your sanctuary. We're here for you, every step of the way."

The room, now a tapestry of support and celebration, became a haven where the echoes of resilience and triumph mingled with the promise of a brighter future. The Avengers had welcomed you home with open arms, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead – a testament to the strength of bonds forged in the crucible of recovery.

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

156 notes · View notes

deftmeat · 5 months

Text

‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ 彡 ‎ ‎ ‎‎ stepbrother!peter parker obsessed with you

NSFW ( mostly just a self-indulgent au )

• reposted since tumblr hid it •

w a r n i n g : contains non con and perv!peter

before tony stark had settled down with pepper potts, he had been with another woman. but after a messy divorce and an unwanted child, he decided to cut off all contact with her.

that woman was your mother. you had never met your father until she handed you off to him one day in the chilly autumn of new york.

after turning 18, she had decided to kick you out and dump you at the very front doors of stark tower.

with loose, messily packed luggage and fat tears staining your face, a man with short curly hair opened the door to you.

of course, later you learned his name was happy and tony trusted him greatly. happy also seemed to willfully obey his every order so you assumed there was a lot of trust and history between them. but you also wondered if tony ever told anyone about you.

it didn’t surprise you though, when you were brought up to tony, escorted by happy, that your father had no idea who you are. and when you explained yourself, he acted shocked you existed.

that’s how you ended up being employed by tony himself, starting out more as an errand runner or assistant to his incessant requests.

you couldn’t lie and say you enjoyed the first few months helping out around the avengers tower and catering to people who intimidated you- but after two years you had come to form closer relationships with those on the team and were more than just a nuisance.

but there was one other person you spent a lot of time with.

peter parker.

you were basically the same age as him, both the same generation and shared the exact same humour. your friendship with peter was nothing like the ones you possessed with the other, older avengers.

your texts between each other consisted of memes and spammed word vomit. peter spilled his secrets and his fears to you while you comforted him and listened. he didn’t see you any differently despite being aware of your hidden relation to his boss, respecting you enough to never bring it up.

there were times where you’d catch him staring at you for too long or you’d accidentally touch each other and he’d linger… just a little bit. you only brushed it off that he was clingy and touch starved.

alas, peter knew sometimes you would feel embarrassed of the fact you were tony’s kid especially when tony never liked to share details about himself to his coworkers. a few of them had been told too but treated you like you weren’t the daughter of one of the most narcissistic men they knew.

another reason you got along well with everyone. so much that you had been silently promoted to aiding in missions and able to train side by side with peter and the rest of the avengers.

when sparing with peter, he’d purposefully sweep your legs out from under you, only to collect your wrist in both of his hands and slam them to the mat, his thighs locked on either side of your hips and his face unnecessarily lowered to hover over yours.

you found most of your sessions under him and while it frustrated you that he beat you every single time, you couldn’t help but notice the look on peter’s face when he did trap you to the floor.

you also noticed how as soon as he got off of you, peter was quick to end the sparring match- practically running out of the gym, his pace fast and posture hunched over. maybe peter was just weird in general?

but he couldn’t help it. seeing you under him, looking vulnerable and so damn pretty like that… his cock swelled with blood and his balls ached with the need to breed you. every. single. time.

the feeling didn’t go away, even after may had died. despite the fact peter had become a mess, you were right there, picking up the pieces that used to be him and taping them back together as best as you could.

that’s when tony had made the executive decision to take peter in. he reasoned that he was already like a father figure to the poor boy, nothing would change. tony obviously had a soft spot for him.

at least, that’s what he said to convince you. and you couldn’t turn peter away when everyone he loved was no longer in his life.

so he moved into the building, took all of his belongings and clothes with him. peter put university on hold while he figured things out. you were understanding and tony- supportive. that’s when he could see the resemblance between you two. you both cared for him. and he suggested to become apart of your family.

of course tony took it the wrong way and surprised peter by adopting him, not even telling you beforehand. you were both speechless but for different reasons.

when peter stroked his leaking dick at night, giving into his fantasies of pushing your head down and dragging his red sensitive tip across your slit and deep inside your soaked walls; he could do so freely. now? now he couldn’t.

he couldn’t have you the way he wanted. peter was definitely frustrated at the new dynamic between you and him but he found it as an excuse to freely walk into your room whenever he wanted. why not? he was your step brother now.

it creeped you out at first, how he would sometimes silently slip past your doorway and make himself at home, occasionally starting up random conversations as if he hadn’t done anything wrong.

eventually you got used to it. sometimes leaving your room to grab a snack or go to the bathroom. you could trust peter not to break anything. he was such a sweet and quiet guy.

and that’s when he would take his chance, going through your drawers and stealing little things of yours.

the sheer panties your best friend from high school had given you for your birthday. a photo of you in a revealing bikini from a trip to the beach when you used to live with your mom. one of the many bottles of body spray that littered your vanity. lotion that you used all the time. another pair of underwear that were less appealing but you wore all the time when you wanted to dress comfortably.

peter even started to lay on your bed on his stomach as soon as you left the room and grind his hips down, rubbing his jean clad bulge against the soft blanket you slept under. he’d stick his face down into your pillow and hump your mattress, veiny hands fisting any fabric he could grab and pulling it closer to his nose, smelling you while he thought of raw dogging your puffy pussy in your own bed.

just when he was on the verge of cumming in his pants, you’d always walk in and he’d feign innocence. pretending he wasn’t just dry humping your bed like a greedy rabbit. you were never the wiser.

you noticed certain things of yours started to go missing little by little until you barely had things to wear or use. you assumed it was the dryer eating your entire wardrobe so you complained to tony and he gave you his card to buy an entire new one.

he didn’t want you going alone though so he made peter go with you. you weren’t entirely thrilled since had he had been glued to your hip almost constantly as of recently but you went along with it, knowing that if you didn’t agree, tony wouldn’t let you go at all.

so when you get to the small shop on the busy corner, peter wouldn’t stop suggesting pieces for you to buy or even try on. you found that they were either way too revealing or borderline inappropriate for him to request. but he wouldn’t stop insisting, going as far as to shove a whole armful of things into you and pushing you to the changing room very eagerly.

“i’m just trying to help.” he told you before closing the door behind you once you fully stepped inside. it didn’t help that every two minutes he’d knock and ask if you had finished, that he wanted to see what they looked like on you.

you obliged, feeling a bit uncomfortable. you were exposed- not to mention in front of peter. your step brother.

you left the small room in the first thing he had shown you, a size too small t-shirt and extremely tiny booty shorts. but peter seemed to hype you up, smiling enthusiastically. his eyes held a glossed over look while his gaze slowly went down your body, taking in how your skin would stick out and show where it probably shouldn’t be.

“okay turn around.” he spoke abruptly, making your face twist into one of uncertainty. he shook his head and merely spoke down to you like you were playing dumb; “come on, i just wanna see what the back looks like.”

huffing out a sigh, you reluctantly shifted your weight and spun to show your backside.

when you did though- you swore you heard a camera clicking but when you whipped your head around to catch whoever had taken your picture without consent.. no one was there.

“peter..?” you meekly stared around, looking for the boy but he had disappeared as if in thin air. the only other people you saw were two employees reorganizing hangers across the wall.

your stomach twisted and you shrunk back into the changing room, not bothering to try the other pieces on and put your own clothes back on, feeling anxious that someone was watching you.

as soon as you went to open the door, peter was standing right in front of the entrance- making you jump and drop the large pile of things you were holding.

“woah, sis. calm down. it’s just me.” he laughed it off, giving you that boyish smile, peter’s eyes never leaving yours. you felt your face flush and apologized- pushing past him to put the exposing clothes back on the racks where he had gotten them from.

ever since then, you felt violated. you avoided peter. you started to ask FRIDAY to lock your door with an access code. you weren’t entirely sure it had been him but he was starting to freak you out even after that day.

you’d wake up multiple nights in a row, in a cold sweat, absolutely sure you could feel someone else had been inside your room besides yourself.

you’d place your hoodie down on the couch to grab a drink, coming back to find it gone.

peter would stay up for two hours after you went to bed, wanting to be certain you had fallen asleep before typing in the access code to your room- watching you put it in while he stuck to the ceiling one day.

he’d quietly shuffle in and see your phone beside your pillow and your face scrunched up while you dreamt. he’d whisper your name just to double check then crept over to your bed, hovering down to stare.

the next thing he knew, he was fucking hard- just by looking at you. that’s what you did to him and you didn’t even know it. his step sister always teasing him, purposefully taunting him with something that was forbidden for peter.

but he bottled up his frustration, struggling to push down his jeans as silently as possible. the slight sound of denim rubbing against itself was drowned out as his pants clung just below his knees. he hadn’t worn a belt for this very reason. wanted easy access while keeping you unaware of his presence.

peter bit his lip when his warm palm finally made contact with his cock, the angry tip already leaking and spilling down to weave through his fingers. “mmshit..” he choked out, careful not to be too loud when he started to stroke himself. his eyes were locked onto your sleeping face, his tongue darting out to drag across his bottom lip with desire. desire for you.

since he couldn’t have you, this was the best he could do, flicking his wrist to increase the speed that his hand jerked his dick, his cheeks wearing a dark flush the faster he went.

“yeah.. wanna breed my lil’sis.. make you mine, baby..” peter muttered, leaning forward so that his cock was right beside the pillow, the back of his hand almost ghosting your nose every time he moved up the entirety of his throbbing length.

he had only touched himself above you one other time but every single night since he saw how your ass looked in those small shorts- he couldn’t help but visit you while you were unconscious, whispering about how badly he wanted to feel your pretty cunt wrapped around his dick, about how good he bets you taste. but he was growing restless, as he confided in your passed out form- he needed more.

which lead to two nights ago. peter couldn’t help but jack off while sitting at the chair in front of your desk in the corner, listening to your soft breaths, one your previously used panties stuffed into his mouth to keep himself quiet - forcing peter to spurt cum all over his hand and bare thighs.

tonight was no different but he was feeling bolder, the aggressive animalistic demand his mind screamed at him to paint your face and mark you as his. to see how hot you looked while his warm sticky seed dripped down your lips and chin and onto your sheets, ruining them. ruining you.

a low groan rumbled in his chest when you shifted, your face now just under his slapping balls. peter almost came at the sight of your unconscious submission, your eyes fluttering and your lips just barely parted. ready to swallow the load he could feel about to explode from his swollen cock head.

his other hand not gripping his dick, shot out to claw at your head board to steady himself from falling on top of you, his body tingling with pure heat. he could barely stand, his knees buckling and the strong muscles in his pale thighs rippling with the effort to maintain his stance.

he was sure he could last another few minutes but when you moved your arms under your blanket, the sudden action pulled it down, revealing the loose tank top you had chosen to wear to bed.

peter’s eyes flitted down to your tits, and upon noticing you hadn’t worn a bra, your nipples stiff and pressing into the fabric- he let out a loud moan, massive ropes of white cum pouring out of his cock.

a few spurts hit your bare collarbones, your chest, the soft blanket draped over you and of course your pretty face. he watched as the thick goo caught on the tip of your nose and bottom lip- gravity causing it to run inside your mouth and down your cheeks onto the pillow.

“fuuuck.” peter cursed at the sight of his cum soaked step sister, all laid out for him.

when you felt something hot splatter your skin you flinched. it had made you stir. blinking your messy eyelids, trying to get whatever it was out of your eyes- you were fully awakened when you heard that familiar click of a camera.

rising your hand up to drag your numb fingers across your face, whatever was on it stuck to your digits and webbed between them. then you noticed it was also in your mouth so you leaned forward and let it drizzle out past your lips and land on your sheets. then you saw movement in the darkness and your unfocused gaze lifted to just barely be able to make out what it was. or who it was.

your body ran cold- you were first met with a cock that was still strikingly hard, leaking and pointing right at you, followed by hair framing the base of the shaft, accompanied by a small trail of the same hair up to below his bellybutton.. peter’s face above it all.

he lowered his phone with clouded eyes, panting heavily and cheeks flushed. his eyes on you.

“…pete?”

330 notes · View notes

literaryavenger · 4 months

Text

Broken - bonus part

Summary: It's been a year since Bucky moved in and now it's his turn to help you, only problem is you won't let him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N. Language. A lot of fluff. Eating disorder. Angst.

Word Count: 7.8K

A/N: I made this bonus part to explore more about the eating disorder that was hinted in the first couple of chapters. I had plans to incorporated in the story when I was planning on making it longer, but with how it went it didn't feel like there was a place for it. I'd like to thank @ordelixx for giving me the idea for this additional part. Hope you enjoy it, I'm always open to more ideas so feel free to spam in my inbox or messages, know I always appreciate it! also sorry it took me so long to finish this but I started it and then kind of lost inspiration :(

Masterlist

It’s been a year since Bucky arrived at the tower and about 11 months since his hearing.

As conditioned by his pardon he’s been going to therapy, he’s been training with the team and has been doing more and more missions, on probation, but still he’s been doing better than ever.

Even Tony had to admit that the more time he spent with Bucky the more the super soldier grew on him.

If a few months ago he begrudgingly spent time with the super soldier at your request, if anything to spend time with you too since you’re still inseparable, now Tony actively seeks him out; wanting to study his new vibranium arm, testing his gadgets since he got hurt less easily than the others. Or sometimes simply to talk about things like astronomy after Tony found out about Bucky’s interest in the subject.

They’ve even had a few conversations on Howard and his friendship with the sergeant back in the 40s.

You're proud of all the progress Bucky’s made, and you appreciate the fact that getting more comfortable in the 21st century and becoming more confident didn’t make him pull away from you.

It's a fear you had, that maybe Bucky stuck to you because you were the first person after Steve that made him feel safe, that the more people he got familiar with the more he was gonna pull away from you, not needing you as much anymore.

But, to your delight, Bucky’s still as touchy and clingy towards you as ever, if anything he's grown even more affectionate.

He never lets a day go by without telling you how much he loves you and appreciates you, kissing you any chance he gets and holding you tight every night in the room the two of you have been officially sharing the last few weeks since you’ve all moved to the new Avengers Compound upstate.

You love Bucky’s attention and you’re just as affectionate towards him as he is towards you. Everything was going great.

Until it wasn’t.

You’re on your way to your room, looking forward to seeing Bucky after a full morning of mission reports with Steve and then training with Natasha.

She obviously kicked your ass and you're exhausted, wanting nothing more than to be in his warm embrace for the rest of the day.

Thankfully, it’s friday afternoon and you have no new missions which means your weekend is wide open.

You stop on your tracks when you hear your name being mentioned in a conversation right around the corner.

You recognize one of the voices as Sharon Carter, one of the agents of Shield that lives and works at the compound the Avengers now reside in.

You don’t know why you stop to listen in on the conversation, you’re not really one to eavesdrop, but something about her tone makes your legs refuse to move towards her direction. Which just so happens to be the way towards the Avengers only part of the building.

Your stomach drops when you hear the other girl’s next sentence.

"And can you believe she got Sergeant Barnes to date her?" Sharon groans before answering.

"Of course she did, he was all broken and vulnerable and she was like the first person he met at the tower. He obviously got attached to the first person that was nice to him, otherwise how do you think a girl like her could ever have a chance with him?" she says matter-of-factly.

"You’re right, I mean he’s probably still with her just out of habit. He’s too nice to hurt her feelings." the other girl says, giggling.

"Exactly." Sharon agrees, laughing with her friend. "I mean, he’d never go for her if he met her today. He’d probably be flirting his way through the actually pretty girls that live around here, like you and me."

You can hear their laughter growing louder as they get closer to where you are frozen on your spot and feel yourself starting to panic.

You can’t face them right now, the only thing on your mind is finding a place to hide in.

You see a door behind you and you sprint to it, reaching it, running inside and closing the door softly in record time. You press your ear up against it and can hear the muffled laughter and some more comments on you and Bucky.

When they’re finally far enough that you can’t hear them, you let yourself relax, pressing your back against the door and looking into the dark closet you’re hiding in while you let their words really sink in, your brain working overtime to make sure you didn’t misheard or misinterpreted anything.

Once you’re sure you indeed heard everything correctly, tears start to form in your eyes.

Is that really what people think? That Bucky’s just with you because he pities you?

You’ve always known Bucky was beautiful, definitely the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in your life, and you’ve always known he was out of your league.

You know you’re by no means thin, but you also don’t consider yourself fat, especially not after all the work that it took you to get to a place where you have a healthy relationship with your body.

Yes, you still have your doubts and insecurities, but that’s just in your head.

Although here you are, hiding in a supply closet, tears streaming down your face, because there are actual people outside of your head that see your flaws too.

One thing is to wonder about this stuff in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep, the voices in your head taking over, but to hear those same thoughts coming out of someone else’s mouth hit you hard.

You don’t even know how long you stay hidden, but at some point you snap out of it and dry your tears, opening the door and making the way to your room.

It feels like only a second passes and then you’re opening the door of yours and Bucky’s room. You make a beeline for the bathroom, barely acknowledging your boyfriend when he greets you as you lock the bathroom door behind you.

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow at your cold shoulder, immediately getting worried. He gets up from the bed and knocks on the door of the bathroom calling out for you. "Everything okay?"

You can hear the concern in his voice and it only makes you feel worse as you find yourself wondering if he’s actually worried or just that good at pretending.

You look at your reflection in the mirror and all of a sudden you feel nauseous but you barely have time to realize it’s not just in your head when you’re suddenly throwing up in the toilet.

Bucky’s more worried than ever as he hears you be sick from the other side of the door. "Doll, I need you to talk to me or I will break down the door."

He knows it may not be the ideal thing to say, but his concern outweighs his rational thinking when you stop making sounds as he still hasn't heard your voice and is worried you might’ve passed out.

"I’m okay." your voice is quiet, but at least you’re conscious.

"Can you open the door for me, doll?" He can hear you sigh and shuffle a bit, probably getting up. Then he hears the faucet of the sink being turned on as you splash some water on your face.

He’s a little calmer now, patiently waiting for you and he lets out a little breath of relief when he hears the lock click.

You open it reluctantly, trying your best to look normal, but Bucky can see right through you.

"What’s wrong, baby?" he brings his hands to your cheeks and you can’t help but lean into them for a second before you grab his wrists and gently lower his hands, his face more worried than before.

"I’m fine, Bucky." you say, your voice almost emotionless.

"You were just throwing up. You’re not fine." it takes all of him not to reach for you again, not wanting to cross your boundaries.

"It’s nothing. Maybe I’m just sick. I’ll take a shower, it’ll make me feel better." You don’t give him time to respond as you close the door and lock it again, starting the shower.

Bucky feels like he can barely breathe, your behavior making him more worried than he’s been since the 40s and he had to take care of sickly little Steve.

Youìve never acted like this with him, when you were sick or even grumpy from your period you usually became clingy and wanted him around even more than you usually do. But he gives you the benefit of the doubt.

If you were sick this wasn’t the moment to think about himself. He has to take care of you first and he can ask more later you when you're feeling better.

With new resolve he heads towards the kitchen, determined to get everything you might need to make you feel better.

You stay in the shower for over an hour, trying to avoid Bucky as much as you can, but you know you had to get out and face him eventually.

When you come out of the bathroom you find him sitting in the desk chair, the desk full of things you’re pretty sure weren’t there when you entered the room.

Bucky's on his feet and coming towards you in a second, your favorite pair of pajamas in his hand.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks you softly, worry still present on his features.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, taking the clothes and changing as fast as you can, a small ‘I’m fine’ leaving your lips.

"What's all of this?" you ask, stepping around him and walking towards the desk.

"Oh, I just brought you some things to make you feel better." He can't help himself as he wraps his arms around you from behind while you look through the things he brought you.

He got you all sorts of pain meds, your favorite snacks and drinks, your heating pad and your favorite comfort book.

You want to cry at the sight, but part of you can't help but doubt Bucky, even with how sweet he’s being.

You snap out of it when you feel Bucky give you a kiss on the shoulder and, suddenly, it all feels fake and it’s too much for you.

You place your hands on his and move his arms away from you, then start heading towards the bed.

"I’m not hungry. I just want to sleep for a bit." That's all you say as you lay down and turn your back on him, tears threatening to fall down again.

You hear him sigh behind you. Then he moves around and you feel him lay a kiss on your head before he walks out the room shutting the lights on his way, wanting to give you the space you clearly want.

You aren't sure if you're glad you can cry yourself to sleep freely or worried that him walking out solidifies the voices in your head that are telling you that maybe Bucky really doesn’t love you.

When you wake up the next morning Bucky’s arms were wrapped around you from behind.

Usually being in his hold makes you feel safe but right now all you can concentrate on is the feeling of his hands on your belly and how disgusted he would be if he woke up and realized the position you were in, no matter how many times you've been like this.

You slip away from his embrace and go to change into work out clothes. You went to sleep pretty early yesterday so it was still early in the morning when you woke up.

You aren’t expecting to meet anyone yet but, once again, you're proven wrong by the shuffling coming from the kitchen as you make your way to grab a bottle of water.

You approach carefully without making a sound and when you peak around the corner you see Steve, probably back from a morning run, in front of the counter with his back to you and a water bottle in his hand.

You try to move as quietly as possible, even with enhanced hearing your skills have gotten so good you're able to sneak around the super soldiers when needed.

You decide to use the stairs to get to the gym, the door leading to them squeaking lightly. Steve turns around at the sound but seems to decide it was nothing as he shrugs and makes his way to his room.

You’ve been at the gym for a couple of hours, stopping only to grab water from the mini fridge, when the door opens and you hear Bucky’s voice.

"Hey doll, I’ve been looking for you everywhere." His voice sounds genuinely concerned. You have to give him props on his acting skills.

"Yeah, couldn’t sleep." You say without looking at him, barely stopping your punching of the bag in front of you.

"I thought you were sick." he’s slowly getting closer, you’d almost think he was trying to corner a scared animal.

"Clearly I feel better." you shrug, trying to end this conversation as fast as possible.

You feel his hand on your shoulder and finally stop, taking a deep breath before turning to face him.

His face looks more worried than you’ve ever seen it and it almost makes you forget your own concerns about the reality of your relationship.

Almost.

"Maybe you should go visit Bruce, make sure everything’s okay." his eyes never leave your face and you try your best to hide any emotion but it’s always been too easy for him to read you so you shrug his hand from your shoulder, trying to put a little distance between you.

He looks genuinely hurt, but, again, what would you expect from a trained assassin? Pretending comes as naturally to him as breathing.

"I’m fine, Bucky." you turn back to the bag and resume your punching. You’re so lost in your own thoughts you don’t even notice him walking out of the gym.

You work out some more before deciding it’s enough and go back to your room, thankful for the first time that Bucky’s not there.

After you shower and change again you find yourself with nothing to do and, for once, you wish you had paperwork to keep you occupied and give you an excuse to avoid everybody.

You grab your purse and make your way out, mumbling something about having errands to run in the city when you come across some people in the living room, basically running out of there so fast you can’t even tell who’s actually there watching tv.

You spend the whole day running around the city, not really having a destination but when the sun starts coming down you decide to head back.

When you enter the living room you can see everyone sitting at the kitchen table.

"Finally, you’re here! We can eat now." Sam shouts happily and you know you can’t escape this.

"Sorry, didn’t realize you were waiting on me." You say quietly while sitting down in the only free chair that’s unfortunately next to Bucky.

"It’s okay, koala bear." Steve smiles from your other side. "Bucky said you weren’t feeling great, so Wanda made your favorite."

You try to look excited while smiling and thanking Wanda as she and Vision place the food on the table. If she notices something is off, she doesn't say anything, just giving you a smile of her own in return.

"Where were you all day?" Tony asks you.

"The city." you simply say, trying to sound as casual as possible while making no attempt to look at him, or make eye contact with anyone else for that matter.

But Tony seems satisfied with your answer, taking your lack of conversation for tiredness and going back to talking to Clint.

You manage to avoid all conversations with nods and hums and you can feel Bucky’s gaze on you almost as it burns but you can’t find it in yourself to look back at him.

When you feel his hand coming to rest on top of yours on the table you feel like something inside you snaps and you get up abruptly, making everybody stop as they give you confused looks.

"Excuse me, I still don’t feel well. I think I’m gonna go to my room and rest." and, without giving anyone the chance to say anything, you walk away.

There’s a second of silence before the team seems to dismiss your behavior as grumpiness from feeling sick, after all the rare times that you do get sick you get very irritable.

Bucky seems to be the only one to notice your untouched food.

After less than five minutes the door to your room opens and Bucky comes in, finding you sitting on the bed staring at nothing while being clearly lost in your head.

He makes his way to you and kneels down in front of you.

"What’s going on, doll?" He tries his luck again, putting a hand on your knee. He hopes that giving space all day allowed you to come around and now you’ll talk to him.

You prove him wrong by getting up, not even sparing him a glance, and making your way to the closet to try and busy yourself so you won’t have to look at him.

"Nothing." You offer nothing more and Bucky starts getting frustrated with you.

"What is wrong with you today?" He knows something’s wrong. He knows you better than anyone, and he’s trying to be patient with you but you’ve never acted this cold towards him and it scares him.

"Nothing is wrong." You know you’re pushing it. You know you’re doing nothing to alleviate his worries, but you can’t help the feeling that he’s the one in the wrong.

He’s the one out of line, he’s the one that betrayed your trust and hurt you and toyed with your feelings and lied to you about his own. You had every right to be short with him.

Right?

"Something is obviously wrong, why won’t you just talk to me?!" He almost whines and you roll your eyes, your own unjustified irritation coming out.

"Oh, for the love of God, just give it a rest!" you almost yell, and the surprise you find in yourself is nothing compared to the one on Bucky’s face.

"What?" he’s almost whispering and the hurt in his voice for some reason just infuriates you more.

"Stop treating me like I’m made of glass! Not everyone is as needy as you, you know. I’m a grown ass adult and I don’t need you!" You can’t stop shouting, knowing full well you don’t mean a word you’re saying. But you want to hurt him as much as you’re hurting, as wrong as that is.

"Don’t you think I know that you don’t need me?!" He’s yelling too now, and you know you pushed the right button "I know damn well how strong you are, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still worry about you!"

"I don’t need you to worry about me!"

"Well, that’s too damn bad for you, because I love you and I want you to be okay!" God, even shouting he’s still being nice to you.

"Well, that’s too damn bad for you, because it’s none of your business if I’m okay!" Not the best response, but at this point you honestly have no idea of even control of what’s coming out of your mouth anymore.

"God, why are you being such a child about this?!" Bucky barely understands what’s going on right.

The two of you have never fought before, not so much as an argument, and now here you are in a yelling match that started because he's concerned about you.

"Oh boo freaking hoo, poor Bucky having to deal with a child! If you don’t like me just say so!"

"What the hell are you talking about?!" He’s beyond confused now.

"If you don’t want this," you gesture between the two of you "just leave! Go and find someone you actually like! Don’t stay with me just because you feel like you have to!"

"When did I ever say that? Are you out of your mind?!"

"Yes, I’m crazy! Now just leave me the fuck alone!" you yell at the top of your lungs and Bucky seems to freeze in his spot.

Assuming this is over, you turn around and climb into bed, your back to Bucky once again.

When you hear him sigh and start moving you feel like you’re reliving yesterday, except this time you don’t expect him to kiss you but just leave.

He turns off the lights, but you frown when you don’t hear the door, instead you feel the bed dip behind you. You tense up when Bucky’s arms wrap around you from behind, bringing you closer to him with your back pressed against his chest.

"I will choose you over everyone. Even on the days where we don’t understand each other." He whispers in your ear after a moment of silence and you can’t do anything to stop the tears that start coming out as you feel Bucky holding you tighter without saying another word.

You want to believe him, you really do. But Sharon’s voice in your head is like a net, not allowing you to fall fully into Bucky, not being able to accept that someone like him truly loves you.

So you start spending your days by yourself, avoiding people as much as possible.

Everytime you're in a room with someone all you can think about is how they're probably judging you, making just want to run away and hide.

But isolating yourself does nothing to ease your worries as you now spend all your time overthinking and hating on yourself.

You start pulling away from Bucky too and it's killing him.

You still won't talk to him, everytime you're together you pretend that everything's fine.

You put on a smile he knows is fake, really doing the bare minimum to keep a conversation going and when he touches you he always gets the feeling that you wanted nothing more than to slap his hands away.

But you always try to be discreet as you inch away from him with any excuse that comes to mind.

It's the change in your relationship with Bucky that starts to clue the team in on your behavior.

As much as they have fun giving you shit for it, they all admire your closeness and were happy that you found each other.

So they start paying more attention to you. Everybody can see something's wrong, but if you wouldn’t talk to Bucky about it, really what chance do they have?

It doesn't stop them from worrying though, seeing how you seem to waste away.

You spend too much time in the gym, losing weight at an alarming rate and not getting enough sleep to function, sometimes resulting in you falling asleep during meetings or on the mat at the gym.

But you refuse to let Bruce look at you. You refuse any help really, your temper shorter than ever as you end up snapping at people more often than not.

You try to keep it together, but it's obviously not working. The only thing you manage to do is avoiding meals without anyone noticing.

After weeks on end of this, the team decides to do something to try and cheer you up, taking the opportunity of your birthday coming up.

Steve manages to convince Tony to have a small party, just the team and agents of Shield, instead of one of his big parties full of strangers.

They're careful when they approach you with the subject, having taken to walking on eggshells around you. You can’t help feeling bad for the way you’ve been treating them, so you decide to be cool about the party, even knowing deep down you’ll regret it.

Natasha and Wanda offer to go shopping with you for a new dress for the occasion, but you decline their invitation.

You know they're trying to be nice, but just the thought of going from store to store, seeing all those beautiful, skinny women trying on pretty dresses you’d never be able to fit into, together with the two gorgeous redheads, it sounds like hell to you.

Which is why you ask the team to have a more informal dress code than usual, allowing you to dress as comfortable as you can be at the moment with loose fitting pants and a large hoodie.

You arrive at the party in the ballroom of the compound that Tony just had to have and are thankful to see everyone dress casually, most of the girls not even wearing dresses.

But you still try not to linger too long on their looks, not wanting to feel worse than you already do about your own appearance.

Arms wrap around your body and you hear Bucky wish you a happy birthday.

You give him a few seconds before you wiggle away from the embrace and turn around. You give Bucky your best fake smile and thank him before kissing him quickly on the cheek and walking away towards the bar to get some water.

You don't need to be getting drunk and throwing up more than you already do every time your stomach forces you to eat anything.

You spend the whole night going from person to person, trying not to talk to anyone too long and making sure to always keep moving to avoid too many questions.

You know it's only a matter of time before they start coming. Even Fury is present, worried about you ever since he had to take you off missions for passing out on the field.

Soon came the moment you’d been dreading most: Wanda comes toward you with your favorite cake with candles lit and everybody starts singing.

You know that with being the center of attention you won't be able to get away with not eating and the team would piece things together if you try, having already gone through this years ago.

Honestly, you're a little disappointed nobody had figured it out yet, but not entirely surprised as you told yourself everyone just didn’t care enough.

And why should they when you look the way you do?

Everyone cheers as you blow on the candles, fake smile still going strong. The cake is cut and everyone is enjoying Wanda’s culinary talent. You even manage to eat yours and keep it down without looking disgusted with yourself.

Everything was going great.

You're behind the bar now taking another water bottle from the mini fridge when you accidentally knock over a glass full of straws that was thankfully made of plastic so it didn’t break.

While you're picking up straws you hear footsteps getting close to the bar that hid your kneeling figure and stop what you're doing when you hear Sharon talking about you. Again.

"And did you see how she’s dressed to her own party? No wonder Bucky’s been staying as far away as possible all night." she's basically whispering, but it's still loud enough for you to hear.

"I know, he’s probably ashamed of her. Wouldn’t surprise me if he dumped her tonight." the two girls giggle the sound seems to snap you out of your trance.

You get up so fast you scare Sharon and the other girl, their startled squeals drawing the attention of the rest of the party as everybody prepares for any danger.

But there is no danger, all everybody can see is two mortified looking agents and you with tears in your eyes that you don't even feel starting to fall.

The whole team is worried sick, everybody getting closer to the bar, but Bucky is the one that's at your side before you can even think about blinking the tears away.

"What’s wrong, baby?" he looks so worried, almost like he himself is about to cry at the mere thought of you being in pain.

But that can't be it, that's not what you're seeing.

He's probably just embarrassed you're being overly emotional for no apparent reason, and that look in his eyes is him getting ready to break up with you right here and now.

At that thought you can literally feel the cake you just ate coming back up and all you can do is run as fast as you could towards the nearest bathroom with a very concerned Bucky running after you after silently agreeing with Steve with a single look that he’ll be the one to check on you.

You make it to the toilet just in time to unload, barely registering two hands taking your hair and holding it away from your face.

You finish vomiting and clean your mouth with some toilet paper before throwing it in and flushing it, shuffling your body backwards until your back hits the tub and you close your eyes while resting your head back against it.

You feel your hair falling back down on your shoulders and can make out the sound of the faucet running for a few seconds before you feel a wet towel gently brushing your cheeks and mouth.

You open your eyes and are met with Bucky kneeling in front of you, seemingly examining every inch of your face to try and understand what’s going on.

Before he can ask you for what felt like the thousandth time though, you can't hold yourself back anymore.

"Please don’t leave me." your voice is weak enough already from all the vomiting and the sobs that start coming in certainly don't help.

Tears start to fall like waterfalls but you don't let any of that stop you from going on. "I know I said I didn’t need you, but I do. I need you so much more than you could ever know."

Bucky wraps his arms around you and he's more than relieved when you don't pull away for the first time in weeks.

Instead, you cling to him as you keep pleading with him not to leave you in between broken sobs while he moves you to sit curling on his lap.

Bucky’s heart breaks for you and he wonders if this was how you felt everytime you comforted him, feeling even more in awe of you now that he knows how hard it was to see the person you love like this.

All he wants is to make you feel better and take away all your pain, but he had no idea how.

When you show no signs of calming down after several minutes he decides to try to talk you down, hoping not to make things worse.

"Doll, I need you to calm down." he tries to pull away just enough to look you in the eyes, but you just hug him tighter, almost terrified that he's just gonna get up and leave forever if you let go and you start getting more agitated by the second.

!Baby, please try to take deep breaths." he's trying really hard not to panic himself now. "I’m not leaving, I promise. I’m staying right here with you, but you need to calm down, please."

Maybe it's because he's basically begging you, maybe it's because of the panic and concern you think you can hear in his voice or maybe it's his grip getting impossibly tight on you that grounds you, but your brain seems to clear just enough to give your body the command and you start trying to take deep breaths.

When you loosen your hold on Bucky he grabs one of your hands and puts it on his chest right over his heart, the steady beating giving you something to concentrate on as you try your best to copy his breathing.

It takes a few more minutes but you calm down, tears still falling silently down your cheeks while Bucky rubs your back with his metal hand, his other warm hand still over yours on his chest.

"I’m sorry I’m such a mess…" Your voice sounds foreign to your own ears, quiet, full of sadness and desperation.

This isn’t you.

This isn’t the confident, strong woman that kicked ass and defended Bucky even to your own family from day one.

What happened to you?

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky's asking himself the same question.

What happened to the sweet, bright girl that offered him a hug after five seconds of knowing him? The girl that calmed him down from a panic attack and kept him company through the night even after knowing about his past?

The girl that let him hang onto her like a koala and allowed him to let it all out? The girl that was patient with him, understanding and never once judged him, no matter how broken she’d seen him?

He really can't think of anything that could've happened to break you this much, to bring you to basically have a meltdown on a bathroom floor.

But whatever it was he needs to know now, and he's more determined than ever to find out.

"Doll, you’re not a mess. You’re hurting, I can see it. We all can. And I know you’re strong, but everybody needs help once in a while. Whatever’s been happening, you don’t have to go through it alone. Just like you didn’t let me go through anything alone. You were always there for me, you’re always there for everybody." he pauses and you take the moment to spiral further.

This is the only reason why he’s still with you. You were there for him, you cared and comforted him. So he feels the need to stay with you because Bucky’s loyal, no matter what his feelings actually are.

But he’s gonna fall in love one day with someone, and what is that gonna mean for you? He’s gonna leave you to be with the person he actually wants, loyalty or not. Your fall down the rabbit hole is stopped by Bucky’s voice.

"Please let me be there for you. This is killing me, watching you do this to yourself. Please tell me what’s going on, baby, because you’re scaring me so fucking much. Please." he finishes in a whisper.

Before you can even properly process his words, you feel a tear that's not yours fall on your cheek, making your eyes widen and you look up to see Bucky already looking down at you with tears rolling down his cheeks.

Your hand goes up to his face automatically and you feel him lean into it. You sit up straighter on his lap, leaning in to rest your forehead against his and closing your eyes while willing yourself to stop the tears long enough so you can talk.

Bucky doesn't push you, finding comfort in your touch after having missed it for what, in his opinion, is too damn long.

"I’m sorry… I just…" you don't even know how to start to explain it.

Bucky can see you're having a hard time finding the words, so he tries to help by saying "You don’t need to rush it, doll. I don’t want to push you to talk about something you clearly don’t want to... But I’ve just been so worried. You’ve been pushing everyone away, and you don’t sleep and stay at the gym until you almost pass out. You think that I don’t hear you throwing up, but I do. And, even with all your oversized clothes, I can see how much weight you’ve been losing. It’s killing me, baby, I hate to see you like this. I just want to know why." he kisses the side of your head and you're on the verge of tears again.

Trying hard to hold them back, you force yourself to speak. "I heard some people talking about me…" you start, your voice still quiet, and you go on to tell him everything.

The conversation you overheard, the insecurities that it brought to the surface, the issues you had in the past and the struggle you’ve been having the last few weeks.

By the end of it Bucky he doesn't know what to feel. He's enraged, worried sick, sad at how miserable you’ve been. Just to name a few.

But more than anything he's heartbroken at how much you’ve been questioning your relationship with him and his love for you. He's devastated to think that everytime he told you how much he loves you, you doubted him and convinced yourself he was lying.

And the worst part is he has no idea how to change your mind.

Is there anything he can say that you won’t doubt? Anything he can do to show you how much you mean to him? Probably not, but he has to try and make you understand.

Your eyes are still closed, not daring to see the disappointment in Bucky’s face.

"Baby, look at me." he says firmly but gently enough to not make you think he was in any way mad at you.

He waits patiently until you look at him which, after taking a deep breath, you do and only then he continues while taking your face in his hands "There are so many things I want to tell you right now... but I’ll start with I love you, doll. I love you so much it actually hurts. Maybe we got close because you were nice and patient with me, but that’s not why I love you. I love you because you’re kind and smart and strong and dedicated. You can kick ass like no one else and you’re still the sweetest person I’ve ever met. And I’m almost 100, I’ve met a lot of people." he smiles when he finally gets you to giggle, the first real laugh he’s heard from you in weeks.

"You’re compassionate and understanding and loyal and beautiful beyond compare. I fell in love with you because of who you are, not what you look like. But that doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re pretty, I think you’re gorgeous and I love your body. I love everything about you. Every. Single. Thing." he punctuates every word with a kiss to each of your cheeks and then your nose, making you giggle more. "You think I’d ever leave you? I could never even consider being with someone else. God, you were never even supposed to mean this much to me! I was never supposed to fall so hard... But you know what? I did and that’s the truth, and that’s what keeps me holding on because it hurts like hell to let you go."

You're obviously in tears, not being able to look away from Bucky’s eyes even if you wanted because of his hold on your face, not that you're trying that hard to get away.

You have no words to describe the way you feel, not even being sure if you fully believe him. The look on his face, though, makes you want to believe. Makes you want to tell all the voices in your head to fuck off until the only one left is Bucky’s saying all the things he just said, over and over again.

But can you really let go of them that easily?

"You don’t have to carry this by yourself, doll." Bucky can see your internal struggle. "Lean on me. Let me help you make this easier."

There's nothing but sincerity in his eyes, he can't possibly be that good of an actor to be faking it, right?

So you decide to trust him.

You trust him with your life, why can’t you believe that he really loves you?

You can. You do.

You will...

"Okay…" You’re basically whispering, still a little worried he’s just pretending and is gonna rip the rug from under you any second now. "I love you, so much. And I want to believe you love me… but it may take me a little while to accept that completely. I’m sorry…"

"You don’t need to apologize, baby. It doesn’t matter how much time it takes, I’m here for all of it. I want nothing more than to help you feel better, starting with helping you love yourself as much as I love you." he wipes your tears with his thumbs before he gives you a soft kiss on the lips. "And not worrying what jealous, unimportant, random people think of you. You’re beautiful inside AND out, don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise. Not even this." He taps the side of your head.

You wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, neither one of you needing to say more at the moment. After a few minutes like this, you’re both done crying and you let go just enough to look at each other.

"Can we go to our room?" you ask him and he nods, letting you get off his lap and then getting up with you.

He doesn’t let you get too far from him while you go to the sink to try and make yourself look decent as he follows you so closely you might think you’re glued to each other.

Your eyes meet in the mirror and he smiles at you, wrapping his arms around your waist, he gives you a kiss on the shoulder before resting his head on it.

You successfully wash off all the makeup you put on for the party, your efforts now ruined by all the crying.

"You’re so pretty." Bucky tells you, his eyes never leaving yours and you smile a real smile this time, turning your head to give him a kiss on the cheek that makes him smile even more.

You get out of the bathroom and you tense up seeing everybody still at the party, your breath hitching in your throat as embarrassment crawls up on you.

You can see the team’s worried looks and the last thing you want right now is to go through the last 40 minutes all over again, in front of everybody.

You just want to go to your room and cuddle up with Bucky, but the super soldier had other plans.

"Can I have everybody’s attention?" you look at him with a frown, but he simply smiled at you and keeps going once the whole room is looking at you two. "It’s been brought to my attention that some of you have some misconceptions about our relationship."

You didn’t tell Bucky who you heard the conversation from, only that it was two agents just in case he might think it was someone on the team, and it almost looks like he's scanning every agent’s face to try and figure out who it was, but he continues nonetheless.

"I’d just like to make it clear for everyone that not only I love this woman more than life itself, but I, and everyone who knows her for that matter, think she’s the best, most caring person I’ve ever met. Not to mention the most attractive, in my ever so humble opinion." he wraps his metal arm around your waist and brings you closer as your face gets redder, and you can see the team chuckling and grinning at Bucky’s possessiveness and your flustered form. "And it’s also absolutely none of your business what happens in our relationship. But, since you’re all here I might as well give you something real to gossip about."

To say you're confused is an understatement. You turn back to him when Bucky’s arm disappear from around you just in time to see him reach into his back pocket, pulling out a ring box and getting down on one knee.

You hear gasps around the room, your own being muffled by your hand in front of your mouth as your eyes grow wide.

"Bucky..." It's barely a whisper to begin with, your hand almost not letting it escape at all.

"Baby, I meant every single thing I’ve said today. I love you so much. I’ve been carrying this around for a couple of months, looking for the right time to do this. But when you started pushing me away I thought maybe you were changing your mind about me. I was terrified and decided to wait, but I realize now if I had done this when I first wanted to, the last few weeks probably wouldn’t have happened. I could’ve saved you so much pain... I don’t know if this is the right time, but I do know that I’ve been ready for a while and right now I honestly can’t think of a better way to show you just how much you really mean to me. So…" he opens the box to reveal a rose gold ring with one big diamond at the center and two smaller ones on each side of it, then he takes your free hand on his. "Doll, will you marry me?"

He can feel you trembling, tears forming in your eyes once more as the whole room seems to hold their breath.

"Yes!" you're finally able to get out and Bucky feels like he can breathe again, happiness spreading throughout his whole body.

You basically throw yourself on him and he catches you with ease, getting up on his feet while you wraps your legs around his waist like a koala.

There's a chorus of cheers, the team immediately gathering around you to congratulate you both.

It feels like too little time when you finally detach from Bucky as he gently put you on the ground before slipping the ring on your finger and kissing it, his eyes never leaving yours, silently telling you he belongs to you and only you.

You’re about to lean in for a kiss when two strong arms pick you up making you squeal, Steve’s laughter in your ear as he says something about finally having a sister-in-law and making everybody laugh.

After a good 15 minutes of hugs left and right, Bucky intervenes.

"Okay, okay, can you please not smother my future wife?" your heart skips a beat when he says that and you're sure you're smiling like an idiot as he makes his way through the team to get to you.

"You know, he actually asked me for my blessing. I told you he cares very much about you." Tony whispers to you while he passes, giving you one last squeeze and a wink before everybody gives you and Bucky a moment.

He wraps his arms around your waist and finally kisses you.

When you pull away you both have big, goofy grins, never wanting this moment to end.

There's no separating you, and now everybody knows it.

Requested taglist: @aesthetic0cherryblossom @buchi91 @sapphirebarnes

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x f!reader #avengers x reader #avengers x platonic reader #avengers x platonic!reader

212 notes · View notes