I know I haven’t given you guys much content lately, but here’s a letter I just found from when I was 15 when I was crushing on a girl in my school. Imma pull a Lara Jean and release it to the world :D (spoiler alert: I still have a crush on her)
“To start off I only write things on paper when my mind gets too filled up with gunk, so bear with me. I’m also writing in bad cursive because I don’t want anyone else to read or understand what I’m saying. There’s this person, they’re perfect in every way, they make me really nervous and when I see them I look away and ignore them because what I see is just too much and if I didn’t I’ll end up blurting out that I’m very much in love with them. This is not ideal in the slightest because what I want is to form any sort of connection with them but how am I supposed to do that when all I do is make them think I hate them? Also I know we will never be more than friends because I am never going to deserve them. But only in my dreams at 2am in the morning do we go on planetarium dates and hang out on some rooftop after dark, meet up every morning to go to school together, to act all cheesy with each other and make others gag, always being there for them and knowing the most smallest details about them, visiting their class and waving for no reason, owning matching items so we could secretly hold a piece of each other without people noticing, going on public dates that just looks like friends hanging out but not really. I am their biggest fan but I want them to know that and like that fact, I want to be the one they call when they’re in trouble. I want to be the one they rely on and love, I want them to be my everything, occupy my every thought and own my heart, because let me tell you, I’ll stay and I’ll love them to the very end. Just… yeah.”
Ok but anyway I thought of how she’s probably going to like a guy sooner or later, and I’ll either be such a side character in her story that she won’t even talk to me about it, or I’ll become her best friend and listen to her talk about him. I thought about that really hard, and I think I’d be hurt either way. But deep down, what really matters to me is that she’s happy, that the guy she likes likes her back, and treats her right. Because she deserves the best, and that guy better do right by her or be prepared to catch these hands. Go be happy, I love you.
hi! I really enjoy your writing style!! ps on your recent carol story in the summary it says 1 pm when I think you meant 1am? This is a super nit picky thing to say sorry if it’s annoying I just wanted to let you know :)
Girl, thank you!!! I’m so freaking happy that my readers liked it❤️ And also thank you for pointing that out, I didn’t notice 😂
Warning: It’s different. Joker is a bitch. Reader becomes kind of morally weird as the fic progresses. People die.
Summary: Y/N is a baby psychiatrist, who just started out. Suddenly, she is trusted with the most feared case of all. Harleen Quinzel. Y/N thinks it’ll be good for her career, or will it?
A/N: I couldn’t find a good ending to this for the longest time, I’m so glad I did. Also, this is for my 500 followers fic queue :) Thank you for the love, darlings✨
That was a name you’d heard before. That was a name everyone’s heard before, at least once in their lives. But it was not the name that had surprised you, but it was the fact that her name was right there on top of your long patient list.
“Yeah, congrats Y/N. She’s pretty famous around here. Straighten her out and you’ll probably be in the big city in less than a year.” Your colleague, Megan peered into your books over your shoulders and patted your back affectionately.
You were one of the new psychiatrists in the business, and you had been dealing with criminal minors, the less mental mental patients and all the clients that newbies would usually handle. Being fresh out of university after holing up in the labs and libraries, you needed to gain some experience first before taking on the really hard cases.
Or… that’s what you were told.
“C’mon, Meg, you gotta know more than that. Why would they pass her case to me? She’s a rank SS psycho.” You pushed, looking up at her through your lashes in a slightly accusatory manner.
She gave you a look that asked; “Do you really want to know?” And you nodded.
“Well, I heard the other docs, the guys who were like 10, 20, hell, 30 years into the business, they all got their brains scrambled by… this girlie.” Her index finger landed on the profile photo of Harley Quinn, an apologetic look in her eyes.
You rolled your eyes, not necessarily at Megan, but at whoever it was that tried to deal this card to you. “You gotta be kidding me.”
“It’s cruel, but you can always turn it down, y’know?” Megan set her books aside, her left arm cradling your slumped shoulders.
“Yeah… But I might not.”
Megan’s dropped gaze snapped back up, her eyes wide with surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah. It’s a good way to kick-start my career, I guess.”
“Hello, new doc.” The moment you entered the room, you regretted making this decision immediately. Harley Quinn sat in a big contraption-looking chair, her hands and feet shackled onto the armrests and legs of the seat. Her platinum blonde hair was untied and unkempt, its bottoms still dyed red and blue, although it seemed to have faded over time.
The only thing dividing the space between you and Harley was a metallic table bolted on the floor, wide enough so even if Harley broke off her arm shackles and reached for you, she wouldn’t be able to touch you. You swallowed your nerves and entered the room with a confident stride, smiling sweetly at the guards as they closed the door with eyes of concern.
“Hello, Miss Quinzel.” You thanked heavens that your words came out right, especially in front of a woman who could sniff out people’s fears from thousands of miles away.
“You’re the first girl I’ve had.” She mused, her eyes twinkling with mischief. But the light in her eyes has lost its original color, you thought. She looked much more lively in photos taken way back then. When she was just a psychiatrist.
“Hm. I guessed that it would be nice to have some heart to heart, female to female.” You reassured your anxious self calmly in your head, repeating the words ‘you got this, Y/N.’
“Do you know why I’m here, and not… Damien? Who usually comes in for your check-ups?” Stowing your clipboard away on your lap, you continued.
“Yeah. Before him was another guy, then a grandpa and just… a buncha stupid-lookin’ guys. But I didn’t like them.” She replied as if it was the most simple thing in the world. The files back in the company would argue differently. Every single guy, either was tormented by her psychotic attacks or totally gone insane from her mental tricks.
“Are you going to do the same thing to me?” You asked, not really knowing what answer to expect. Your eyes remained soft, a small smile gracing your lips as you waited for her answer.
“No. I like ya.” She answered quickly, shrugging and adverting her gaze away to look down at her shackles. “Can I sit down like you?” She shook her wrist lightly, the chains rattling against the armrest.
“Maybe next time, Miss Quinzel.”
“There’s a next time? Yeah!”
You internally smiled to yourself, what a successful human being she would’ve been if not for a man like Joker to ruin her life. Right then, you vowed to whatever higher power was out there, that you’d get Harley Quinn to break free from his spell.
The people in your office were surprised, to say the least, that you were able to keep up your visits to the prison, and that an amateur therapist like you could get the queen of Gotham in a tight little leash. You didn’t like to think about it like that, but rather that she trusts you better than any of the others.
The weekly visits became 2 days a week, and from weeks of good behavior, Harley was allowed to be without handcuffs during her sessions now. You weren’t afraid she’d leap up and strangle you, because of some sort of connection the two of you formed after all those times spent together.
“Hey doc, why can’t you visit me more ‘round here?” Harley pouted, interrupting the current therapy session with an abrupt comment.
You looked up from your clipboard, dumbfounded. Why would she want to have you around more?
“Harley, I’m just your therapist.” You tapped the end of your pencil against the material of the clipboard, locking eyes with the woman. Anyone could see that she was starting to look better, particularly her eyes. They looked more human, compared to the hollow shell they used to be.
“I know, Y/N. But I’ve been doin’ some thinkin. It’s pretty fuckin clear that Mister J isn’t coming for me, and the suicide squad was probably just a one-time thing. And… You’re all I have.” She admitted, slowly sliding down from her pipe chair and laying down on the concrete floor.
The wooden chair you sat on scraped against the hard floor as you pushed it back. Standing up from your seat, you walked over to her in 3 steps. You kneeled down beside her, her skin just inches away from you. “Do you want a hug?” You questioned quietly, your voice softer and more inviting than usual. Harley felt this too, sitting up in a millisecond just as the offer left your lips.
“Yeah.” She almost crawled over to you, her arms wrapping around your neck desperately. That would’ve been terrifying if it was out of context, but she actually wasn’t trying to kill you. She genuinely just wanted a warm embrace.
You felt her slender torso tighten and loosen as if she was trying to repress a sob. Hand carefully sliding over her back, you whispered; “Let it out.”
And she did.
Time flew by as you continued to work on her case, and you fell into the worst situation a psychiatrist could possibly be in while working. You grew emotionally invested in your client. As a friend, who cared for her well being and happiness.
Maybe… even more.
You still didn’t know if you could trust her though, you managed to keep a cool head and your mind was rational, but that only confirmed the fact that Harley wasn’t playing any tricks on you. That you were genuinely becoming attached to the beautiful prisoner.
Harley, on the other hand, did intend on ruining you at first. Make them run back to where they came from crying, so no one would disturb her again while she waited for her puddin.
But it was all starting to feel different with you.
“Hey, doc?” Harley called out from inside her electric cage. She was being a little bit mischievous that day, and she pulled an armed guard against the buzzing bars when he wasn’t looking. He probably died, she guessed.
But she didn’t like that she couldn’t be near you during your sessions. So a man died, big deal!
“Can you let me out?” She pleaded in the sweetest voice she could muster, calling out to you who was currently propped up on the usual desk, writing down some notes on your clipboard.
“No, Harley. I don’t have the keys to your cell.” You replied without looking up, but you could imagine the cute pout that Harley had when you denied her of something.
“But would you open it if you did?” You looked up at that question, seeing her smiling from ear to ear now, anticipation glowing in her eyes.
“Maybe. I know you won’t hurt me.” You smiled back at her, watching her facial expression carefully. How would she react if you showed some warm friendliness towards her? Could she possibly return to the life she used to have?
“Maybe I will, doc. You don’t know what goes on in here.” Harley leaped up to her cloth swing she’d made for herself, her now almost completely platinum hair draping down her back.
“I hope you won’t hurt me, then.”
You couldn’t forget that split second where Harley’s eyes looked more humane than it ever has been for many, many years.
“Warning. Warning. Escape Attempt in Sector 9H11.”
The sound of the speaker and the blasting alarm merged together in a chorus of chaos, guards and officers running around to stop whoever the escapee was.
It was 9:30AM and you were just about to enter the asylum for your shift, when this sudden noise almost blasted your ears off. Before you could process what was happening, a bomb went off right next to you, making you scream and clutch your head as you ducked.
The debris fell everywhere along with broken pieces of concrete, and you just stayed there trying to collect your thoughts. Right when a random hand grabbed you by your wrist.
“Hi, doc. I was lookin’ for ya. You’ll come with me, won’t you?” Harley pulled you to the side, hiding the two of you behind a few bushes. Her eyes were electric making you realize that the true “Harleen Quinzel” you’ve been trying to look for is right in front of you now.
“Yeah. Yeah, I will.” You didn’t hesitate to take her outreached hand. Your mind had already been made up since the first time you laid your eyes on her.
A/N: Due to popularity, “Judith” has made a comeback, for my 500 followers fic queue!
Also, I’d just like to say 16 year old me will always be a white man’s ***** for Carl Grimes and Carl Grimes only. He and Judith deserved so much better 😭
“Momma?” The door opened by the small hands of a now 4-year old Judith, waking up her ‘Bubbie’.
“Shh, Y/N’s still sleeping.” Carl picked up the toddler, placing her in between you and him, telling her to keep quiet while you slept.
Today was one of those days where waking up was a blessing. The morning sunlight sneaking in through the window fell softly on your closed eyelids, the covers felt fluffier than it usually did, and the warm presence of 2 people could be felt right next to you.
You tried your hardest not to smile as you heard Carl’s morning voice, talking to who could only be Judith. Judith cooed in reply, her little fingers grabbing at your sprawled out hair.
You internally giggled to yourself as Carl let out an exasperated sigh, Judith chuckling happily at her Bubbie’s smile.
Wanting to be in the moment, you fluttered your eyes open. You first met your gaze with Carl, who noticed right away and looked back at you with those love-sick eyes. He couldn’t get over how ethereal you looked, even with bed hair. The zombie apocalypse thing had normalized women without makeup, anyways.
“Good morning.” He spoke again with that voice, making you melt into the sheets even more. Judith giggled as she watched her ‘parents’, still holding onto your lock of hair.
“Good morning, baby.” You replied as Carl placed a small peck on your cheek, holding himself up on his elbow.
“And you, cutie pie.” You turned your head slightly upwards to Judith, who looked back at you with her beautiful copper eyes.
Judith looks over from you to Carl, mumbling “snackies” which you assume translates to “I want food” in baby.
“Why don’t we just have breakfast in bed today? It’s such a pretty morning.” You said stretching yourself out on the huge bed, fully content as you imagined a plate of waffles in bed.
“Why not. I got apple sauce on my last run. So Judy won’t be making a mess.” Carl swiftly picked the little girl up, telling you to wait while he made preparations. You accepted gratefully, sitting up with your back against the headboard to look out the window.
It had been 4 years since the prison breakout, and you weren’t proud to say that time had made things a lot easier. It wasn’t easy to be apart from people you considered family for so long, but being in the farm felt so right. The walls stood strong, there were no enemies like the Governor or some random looters, because no one would ever find the three of you here.
“Y/N?” You glanced at the doorway to see your favorite breakfast, which Carl was holding with a knowing look. One look at him relaxed the shoulders you didn’t notice were tensed up.
“Momma!” Judith jumped up onto the bed, holding a packet of apple sauce with a wide grin, looking satisfied with the breakfast she usually doesn’t get to have.
Placing her on your lap, you look the tray from him, placing it next to you.
“Thank you, babe.”
“It’s no problem. I got french toast for myself, too. Now, I know something’s on your mind.” He got under the covers, kind eyes encouraging you to talk to him.
“Don’t- uh, get me wrong, y’know, I love it here.” You started off sort of rocky, looking out the window once again to see the green field stretching out for what seemed like forever. “I just wonder if it’s selfish of me to love being in this moment, without them. I know we’ll go look for them when Judith is older, but is doing it now the right thing to do?”
You took a bite out of your waffle as you waited for him to reply.
Setting his hand over yours, he squeezed it gently. “I wonder that myself, too, sometimes, but… honestly? I think it’s okay. I think we earned the right to be a little selfish.” He did that smile at you again, and that was enough for your nerves to calm down.
After taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you whispered;
“Yeah, maybe we did.” Your eyes look clearer this time, and when you look out the window, you only see hope for the future, and hope that your past family is doing alright.
“C’mon, momma, waffles gon get cooold!” Judith pulled at your pajamas, making you burst out laughing at her cute remark.
“I love you two.” Carl places a loving peck to the both of you, letting you know that things right now are how it’s meant to be.
Warning: So there’s a LOT going on here. Staying up late, tension, I- I can’t believe this but maybe this is the most NSFW thing I’ve ever written.
Summary: Carol and Y/N has been best friends ever since they first met at the Avengers tower. Things get a little steamy when they run into each other at 1AM in the morning. In the kitchen.
A/N: I’m so happy to say that this is finally going to be posted, for my 500 followers fic queue <3 I love you all, thank you for becoming my internet family :)
You couldn’t fall asleep.
It was almost 1AM, you had the best sheets in the whole Avengers tower (courtesy of being Tony’s friend), and you still couldn’t fall asleep. You turned sideways, upside down, changed pajamas, and it was not working. None of them were.
So it was going to be one of those nights.
You shivered at the sensation of the cold marble flooring coming into contact with your feet. You kept your hands covered with the oversized sleeve as you slowly slid the door open, imagining yourself in a spy movie as you tip-toed towards the fridge.
The living room and the open kitchen looked so eerie at midnight. Usually, you would give anything for all the noise to quiet down, but to be honest, you missed it right now.
With your toes patting against the floor, you rushed over to the cupboard to grab a mug. If you couldn’t fall asleep, maybe your body would cooperate after a cup of warm milk. Being as careful as you could to not make too much noise, you set the milk to heat up for 3 minutes.
Setting your elbows down on the counter and whipping out your phone, you got back to the new episodes of Harley Quinn’s animated series. The Harley Quinn x Poison Ivy ship that you were expecting did NOT happen in Season 1 finale, so you were obviously expecting it this season.
A few seconds passes by, and you were already so immersed in your screen, that you didn’t notice a shadow sneak up behind you.
“Y/N!” Carol snatched your waist from behind, picking you up as she hugged you for warmth. You gasped in surprise, your phone slipping out of your grip and clattering on the counter.
“Carol!” As soon as she set you down, you whipped around and slapped her arm playfully, whispering something along the lines of “never do that again”.
“Hey, why’re you up so late?” Her hands immediately reached for the cookie jar, popping the lid open as she tangled her leg with yours, subconsciously pinning you against the counter.
“I couldn’t sleep. You?” You tried to sound nonchalant as you diverted your attention away from your best friend, and how close the two of you were.
You have had the biggest crush on her ever since you saw her, but her natural personality made it hard for you to distinguish between friendship and something more. You’d guess the two of you’s closeness is just ‘friends being friends’ for her.
“Binging Black Mirror. That show is actually pretty deep.”
“Yeah- I think that’s the whole point of the show.”
“I totally knew that.”
“Mhm.” You hummed in amusement, your head in the clouds as you stared at Carol’s impossibly attractive jawline.
She noticed your stare, but she didn’t comment. In return, though, she looked back at the pretty hair of yours framing your beautiful face, wondering how anyone could look so pretty in the dead of night.
Silence filled the room, sudden tension building up. Maybe it was just you, but you wouldn’t know. Maybe the lack of sleep was making your brain fuzzy.
The silence was broken by the beeping of the microwave. As you tried to rush over to get to it, Carol grabbed your waist.
It was purely on impulse, she just wanted you to stay in touch with her skin, but she had already done it, and she couldn’t just let this opportunity pass. She knew you were her best friend, and she might lose you if this fails, but somehow, at 1:30am in the morning, this felt like a good idea.
“Carol?” You looked back at her with your heart thumping against your rib cage.
Without answering, she pulled you closer, so close that you could feel her heartbeat against your chest. You unknowingly licked your lips, looking up at her with a mix of surprise and anticipation.
Next thing you know, her lips connected with yours, the sensation proving that what people said in stories were true. Butterflies. Nothing else to be said. Your whole body tingled with want, and genuine joy that she felt the same as you did.
Carol couldn’t even think properly, your lips were addictive, nothing she’s ever experienced in her whole love life. You’d gotten her all hot and bothered, even with a hoodie and a pair of shorts. You had gotten her whipped, and she knew it.
Breaking apart to catch a breath, you felt more awake than you had been when you first came into the kitchen. Between rough breaths, you chuckled quietly.
“Do you want to come back to my room?” Carol asked, starting to get her breath back to normal.
“No, to cuddle.”
“I’m little spoon.”
Carol chuckled as she took your hand, handing you your mug as she led you out the kitchen.
Warning: FLOOF, everyone except Tasha and Y/N is stupid, swearing, guns, fighting, that’s it bb!
Summary: Natasha is assigned a mission with an Agent she doesn’t know. So, she ends up dragging a civilian who she assumes is her partner into a highly-violent mission.
A/N: AHHHHH EVERYONE ITS MY FIRST FIC IN MONTHS IM BACK THANK YOU ALL FOR THE LOVE AND THE PATIENCE!!
Y/N Y/L/N. You were just another citizen of the planet earth, not an inhuman, not an assassin, not a super, not a mutant and certainly not an Avenger. You grew up in an everyday household, went to school, had decent grades, led a good career, and overall life.
So… how did you get here right now? To know this, we have to rewind time, to around a month ago.
-11:00 am, SHIELD office 09
“Agent Romanoff, sorry to do this to you.” Nick Fury looked over at Natasha apologetically, while she herself remained stoic. “But you know that the rest of your teammates can be… unpredictable.” To this, she let out a small chuckle.
“It’s not a big deal, I know they can be dramatic.” She slid the file on the table, opening it to examine the details of the mission. “Wait, this is a doubles mission?” The surprise was evident in her voice, as she assumed that this would be a one-woman job.
“She’s a beginner agent. Don’t worry, she’s just there for support.” Fury stated casually as if he didn’t leave out one of the most relevant information.
“Right, okay, can I meet her?”
“No. She’s out at the moment.”
“How do you expect me to work with someone I’ve never met?” Natasha inquired, confused beyond words.
“There’s a description! And everything!” Fury defended himself, pointing at the file she held in her hands. At that moment, Natasha could see why he was the leader of the Avengers. Sighing in defeat, she retreated back to the training area.
Y/H/C hair, Y/E/C eyes, around her age, pretty, it probably wouldn’t be hard to find this partner. And just like that, her mind wandered away from the mission, to her training regime for the day.
-5:00 pm, Y/N’s apartment
“C'mon, Y/N! It’ll be so fun, I’m telling you!” Your old uni friend pleaded over the phone, while you balanced the pros and cons of going out tonight.
“Mm, I don’t know… I mean, I was going to have a Star Wars marathon.” You pouted, glancing at your TV wantingly. Oh, what you’d give to cuddle up with a tub of ice cream tonight.
“Y/N, come on. You can’t just couch potato every day.” You ran out of excuses to give, reluctantly agreeing to her offer.
“God, I haven’t been to a club in forever.” You rummaged through your closet, only finding office clothes and comfy hoodies. In the very back, though, you knew that there was a little skimpy dress you used to wear back when you were in university. “… Fuck it. It’s just one night.”
You closed the door to your apartment with your heart hammering in your chest. You hadn’t dressed like this in what felt like forever, you almost forgot how good you looked. Whatever happens, you had your trusty taser gun hidden in your thigh-high boots.
Feeling like an utter and complete boss b*tch, you entered the booming club with your friends in tow. “Y/N! I knew you still had it in ya.” You rolled your eyes at one of your friends’ comments, but your heart secretly swelled at her words.
The start of the night was amusing, but as time flew by, your buddies were swooped away by unknown guys and girls, leaving you to drink all alone by the bar. Of course, it wasn’t like you didn’t have dance requests and numbers asked, but none of them really interested you.
Natasha had arrived at the club a little later than you did, clad in a spy-dress and spy-shoes with various weapons hidden underneath, inside, wherever there was space. The infamous Strucker was reported to be here in this club tonight, but first, she needed to find her associate.
It wasn’t hard to find you, as she assumed that an Agent would be somewhere that was easy to see, unlike the dance floor. So the bar. And luckily, by the bar, there was only one woman who fit the description given to her. You.
To her surprise, you were way more distracting than she had expected. Your short dress hugged your curves just right, your effortless movements were eye-catching and elegant. And your smile, god. The way you smiled at the bartender made her wish she was him.
But at that moment, she was an Agent of SHIELD, and she had a job to do.
You were just about to order another glass of your drink when a hand was laid on your shoulder. You looked back to see if it was another flirter, but was taken aback by the gorgeous woman standing there. She had her calloused hand on your shoulder, yet her eyes were not on you, scanning the crowd.
“Uhm, can I help-"
"How did you get here?” Natasha recited her code-word, to double-check if it really was her assigned partner.
“With my friends…?” You wondered if you were drunker than you thought, and hallucinating this beautiful woman in front of you, asking weird questions.
But the problem was, "With my friends“ was the actual code-word.
"Good. Agent Natasha Romanoff. I assume you already know about the mission. I’ve got intel that Strucker’s up in the VIP lounge.” She gently tugged at your arm and pulled you off of your stool, handing you an earpiece.
“Oh, um…” You tried to ask this ‘Agent Natasha Romanoff' what was happening, but she continued to talk about things you couldn’t even start to comprehend.
“Come on, put it on. We might need it.” She stared you down, in a quite intimidating manner, that you had no choice but to follow. You really didn’t know what was happening, whether this was role-playing or something else, you had no idea.
You really didn’t have much else to do anyway, maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to just go with it. You were a little tipsy, but not so much that you could be dreaming about this whole conversation. Maybe it was this woman’s way of hitting on you? They say weird things happen in clubs, right? (They don’t)
“We have to get through the 4 security details on the outside, plus the 10 estimated to be inside.” You watched with your eyes glued to her smooth movements, as she checked her various hidden weapons. You were so entranced that with a little help from alcohol, you managed to completely ignore the fact that this didn’t look normal. At all.
“It’s fine, I know you just started. Just be on alert, alright?” Although Natasha felt her partner’s whole attitude was a little off, she shook it off, reminding herself that she had just started out. “Say, what should I call you?” She asked, starting to walk towards the stairs leading to Strucker’s location.
“Oh, uhm- Y/N’s fine.” You stuttered, suddenly pulled away from a trance-like state you were in. “Right, and where are we go-"
Suddenly, as the two of you got to the top of the stairs, Natasha shushed you and slammed you on the wall before you made a turn around the corner. Your cheeks burned up at her roughness, and her close proximity to you.
"Okay, I’ve got visual. 4 men, not an issue. Stay here.” She whispered, and before you could even respond, she was out of your sight.
“What the fuck?!” After a few moments, you peeked over at where Natasha had gone, just to be met with a sight of 4 bodies on the floor. You debated whether to just run away while she was distracted, but she had already gotten to you, pulling you by your arm.
“I know this is your first field mission, Agent. But I need support.” You had no reason to comply, except for the shiny black gun she held in her hands. Your breath hitched at the weapon, your mouth unable to form words. Telling yourself that this will be over soon, you could only follow. At the very least, she didn’t look like she was going to shoot you.
From there, you experienced something you never thought you would, ever, in your life. As soon as Natasha kicked open the door to the lounge, bullets were flying, kicks and punches were being thrown everywhere, knives flying across the air, and whole lotta things that had you cursing in confusion and fear every 10 seconds.
Natasha, in the corner of her eyes, saw the panic that flashed across your eyes. She shoved you to the farthest corner of the room, shielding the knives and guns that pointed your way. She usually would’ve been annoyed at an Agent’s lack of experience, but seeing you so small almost hurt her physical heart.
You were curled up by the wall, watching this intricate dance of deadliness. But even though the chaos, the woman, who called herself Agent Natasha Romanoff was like a magnet for your eyes. Her movements, her punches, kicks, even the way she held her gun was so rhythmical and controlled, that you almost forgot you were in the middle of a gun-fight.
That’s when it hit you.
She was a real Agent who mistook you for her partner.
So when Natasha was going one-on-one and overpowered by who seemed to be the leader of the gang, you only had 2 choices in front of you. Either you run while all the other men are knocked out and the leader is distracted, or you toughen up and help Natasha.
It was perfect. The mafia-looking guy had his back to you, completely unaware that you were even in the room. All rational thoughts went out the window as you heard Natasha choke in his grip. You almost don’t remember what you did after that. All you know is that you slid your stun-gun out of your boot, and shot him right on his shoulder.
You stood still in your spot after that, watching as she cleaned up.
“Thanks for the last-minute save.” Natasha’s voice sounded like you were hearing her from underwater, your senses dulled from the shock. You fell to the floor, suddenly losing control of your legs.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” She dropped the knocked out and hand-cuffed body of the man on the ground, and ran over to you.
“Agent… I’m not who you think I am.” You looked up at her with glossy eyes, not even knowing why you were about to cry.
-a whole lot of explaining later-
“You’re a civilian.” She fell down next to you, clearly horrified by this new revelation. “I don’t even know how to apologize. I’m sorry.” She cradled her head in her hands, cursing herself for being so irresponsible.
“Uhm, Agent Romanoff? It’s okay, I think.” You wiped away your stray tears, cry-laughing at yourself and this whole ridiculous situation. Natasha looked over at you with sympathy filled in her eyes, laying a hand over yours that rested on the carpet.
“Oh god, this is crazy.” Natasha couldn’t do anything but laugh. The two of you kept on talking and laughing about how today turned out as you dragged the handcuffed body out of the VIP exit, and into her police-car like vehicle.
You had to let her take you back to her office, to check you for injuries and explain the situation to her boss. You must’ve received at least 50 apologies from the both of them, but you assured them that you were okay.
And… it turns out, not a lot of people can react like you did in a first fight. On top of this, the Avengers were actually looking for a support agent, who stays back at the compound and become that “girl in the chair”.
And guess how all of that coincidence on top of a coincidence turned out.
That simple night out led you inside a gigantic tower that everyone in New York knew about, where the notorious Avengers lived, the Stark Tower.
“Hi, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”
-a month later-
You felt emotionally fulfilled, looking out at the sight of the living room. When it was just you, it was always quiet, considering you used to lived on your own. But in a short span of a month, you quickly got used to the noisy mornings, the laughters and banters filling the room.
“Hi, принцесса.” You felt a pair of arms slide under your arms, and a small kiss planted on your bare shoulder. You giggled as Natasha twirled you around, sitting you down on the counter as she kissed you.
“Mm, good morning babe.” You whispered back. And in her strong arms, you felt what the people call love, in this fiery assassin. Natasha couldn’t ask for a better partner to share her deepest secrets with, to follow to the ends of the earth, and protect with all she had.
“Tonyyy, Y/N and Tasha are making out on your coffee beansss.” Clint yelled from his place on the couch, an evil smile on his face as Tony ran into the kitchen.
As you all know, I haven’t posted any fics in like the last 4 months, and I apologize profusely for it. This account was like my get-away from real life, but I’ve had to go and face it head on these couple months. I’m glad to report that the hard part is over now, and I want to get back to my favorite characters of all time.
Thank you all for staying with me through this long-ass hiatus, and I just want to say that I’m back!
I watched Charlie’s angels reboot yesterday, (I know, I’m so late) and I’ve seen many mixed reviews of it, but can I just say
I loved it?
I got the vibe that a woman, fed up with inequality and criticism went home and gathered a whole bunch of crew, anger-wrote a kickass story and cast a whole bunch of hot people in it, and that’s the kind of movie I wanna see.
Not every movie has to be like the titanic, gosh, c’mon. Let’s have fun while watching movies, hey?