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unholyhelbig · 3 months

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oversight part 6 ??

Title: The Oversight [Part 6/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 6237

Warnings: SMUT UNDER 18 DNI, oral (r recieving), Dom/sub dynamic, slight mommy kink if you squint, fingering (r recieving), and horrible grammar

[A/n: This took literally all day because I hadn't started it until this morning, and it's now 12am. Good thing it's -15 degrees outside and I physically cannot leave my home. I haven't written Nat smut... ever. Go easy on me.]

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Natasha Romanoff knew how to handle a gun. She tested its weight; the mix of metal and plastic was familiar to her as lungs were to breathe. As ocean was to water, as sky was to rolling thunder. Handling a gun, especially while loaded, was a delicate process. She’d stroke the trigger, ghost her fingers over the barrel and expertly tease the weapon into doing exactly what she wanted.

Natasha Romanoff was not one to do anything without calculation, not one to do something without complete control. But, the soft noises that escaped your throat as she nipped across your jawline and licked over the burning bites to soothe the smallest bit of pain made her stop thinking. Stop calculating. It threatened to take her control.

Your back was up against the cool mahogany of her bedroom door. You’d barely gotten a chance to close it before her hands were all over you, and that floral scent invaded your lungs. You were frantic to pull her as close as possible, to feel her body fully against yours. You needed Natasha Romanoff more than you needed life itself. You needed her inside of you.

She seemed just as beside herself. Her nails ran up and down your sides, brushing against the exposed skin that the slit in that beautiful emerald dress provided. You were enamored with it earlier in the night. Now you were grateful for all the exposed parts of you, the hot touches and breathless kisses.

“So needy, malyshka” Natasha whispered between kisses. “You need me to take care of you, don’t you?”

Yes. You wanted that more than you could vocalize. Instead, you let out a groan that was muffled by her lips against yours. You understood the irony, feeling so safe with a woman who was one of the most feared within the city.

She reminded you in a gentle growl “words, baby, use your words.”

“Please, I need you.”

Natasha didn’t need another green light. She hauled you into her arms in a feat of strength, backing you onto the bed. The sheets were cool against your bare legs. The last time you’d been in this bed, you were in much worse shape. You preferred this, coming undone with Natasha’s wandering hands and damp kisses.

You hungrily pushed her jacket from her shoulders, brushing the pads of your fingers over her defined muscles. She smiled against your lips, throwing the expensive garment to the floor. You made quick work of the buttons down the front of her waistcoat, barely exposing the curve of her chest before her fingers reached up and grabbed yours.

“You’re far too clothed, darling.”

The objection was soft, and you were quick to comply when she pulled the dress up to expose your thighs. You lifted your hips and she moved the dress the rest of the way over your head, tossing it to the side. Her eyes raked hungrily over your dips and curves, hands caressing your sides, watching as your pulled air in and let it out in excitement.

“You knew this was going to happen?” Natasha said with a wolfish smile as she took in the lacy bra and panties that you wore.

“Hoped, really.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“Do I need one?”

Her smile widened as she expertly slid the buttons from their proper place and pulled her waistcoat off. You were met with tanned skin, with a toned stomach and breasts that you itched to palm. She started to kiss along your neckline, down your chest, and the very start of your stomach. Expertly, she unhooked your own bra, tossing it in the same direction as your dress.

Natasha bit and sucked in the right places and your back arched in eager response. It distracted you from her wandering hands. You shuddered as she pushed past the elastic of your underwear, she brushed her finger up the length of your slit, and a breath got stuck in your throat.

“So wet already, just from a little teasing.”

“Natasha,” You moaned her name.

You squirmed as her touch moved lower, she kissed along your waistline, moved your underwear down your legs until you were fully exposed to her. She let out a content breath that was hot against your center, you fought the urge to press against her.

“Zaychik, I have a few rules,”

“Anything, just… anything.”

She kissed against your thighs, ever so close to you. It was driving you nuts, and while you trusted Natasha with your life, with your sanity, it was you who was struggling with control. You craved her touch and then resented how much you relied on it. You had never wanted anything more in your life.

“You belong to me. And that means, you can only cum when I give you permission.” You whined under her soft ministrations, bucking your hips forward. She bit hard against the expanse of your skin, enough to bruise. “Am I clear?”

“Y-yes, yes. Clear. Crystal. Baby please.”

Natasha hummed against you. “Good girl.”

Your cheeks heated at the positive reinforcement and your fingers curled into the expensive sheets. A gasp escaped you when her tongue met your folds. She licked expertly across the length of your center and an entirely pornographic noise left your throat when she stopped at your clit, sucking softly.

You could feel your heartbeat in your chest, pounding against your ribs in a perfect rhythm. Natasha slid a singular finger into you. It was painfully slow, and far from enough to fill you up. You resisted the urge to grind further into her. Another finger, another soft noise.

A combination of her quick movements and attention mouth brought you close to the edge embarrassingly fast. You had thought of this moment for months, how skilled she was, how your naked body would be writhing under her touch exactly as it was now.

When Natasha added a third finger, your mind started to grow foggy. You had known for awhile that you would do anything for her. It wasn’t a feeling that you shied away from in the slightest. Excitement was building in your core, breath coming quicker, sweat slicking against every inch of your body.

“Remember your manners, baby girl.” Natasha’s words vibrated against your core, making your squirm. “Not until I say.”

Her fingers curled inside of you, your walls tightening expertly around her. It took everything in you not to give in to her. There was an impossible pressure building inside of you. You gasped in as much air as you could muster.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You,” the answer came without hesitation. “Only you,”

“That’s right. You’re all mine, my little toy.”

Her words only worked you up more. You wanted to take care of her, wanted to worship her. You’d do anything she commanded. The word slipped past your lips without a second thought. She was working so hard to undo you. “Natasha… mommy”

Natasha let out a moan at the title, her pace increasing. She returned her hot mouth to your clit, circled it with your tongue expertly. She mumbled against you, words vibrating. “You can cum, princess.”

She didn’t’ have to tell you twice. You tightened around her fingers, arching off the bed as pure extasy washed over you. You clenched every part of your body, groaning into the crook of your arm to muffle the noise. Pleasure rolled over you, through the pit of your stomach.

Her mouth continued to work throughout the lingering pressure of your orgasm, threatening to build to another one. Natasha pulled her fingers from you with a wet noise. She breathlessly moved herself next to you, kissing your neck, your jawline. Natasha pressed her fingers against your lips, and you were eager and ready to accept them.

You could taste yourself on her, sucking them as she nipped at your earlobe. She whispered, feeling hot against your skin. “Such a good whore, so willing and ready to suck anything. Take anything. I can’t wait to give you a strap.”

Your heart began to race at the thought, and she smiled against you, clear that she could feel the increase of the rhythm from your closeness. Natasha removed her fingers, she kissed you hard, and you kissed her back with just as much passion, pulling away slightly to stifle a yawn.

“Tired already, Zaychik?”

You chuckled “you wear me out. Though, I’m not too worn out to make you feel good.”

“Mm, you’ve already made me feel good. I think we should get some sleep.”

You wanted to fight her on it, body still trembling from the rolling orgasm she had given you. But exhaustion was fighting too and Natasha readjusted you both until you were settled gently into the crook of her neck, one arm lazily over her midsection. She was gentle and attentive with her movements. Brushing strands of your hair behind your ear. Who knew Natasha Romanoff was a cuddler?

A spring storm had taken full effect by the time you had crossed back into the city, but it seemed that nothing could dampen your mood. The clouds that formed in dark clusters and released sheets of rain were something of beauty, not despair. The day was still warm, the breeze cold to cut through the sweat that formed on your brow. You’d cracked the window, allowing stray drops to cool your skin.

You stopped by the mailbox on the bottom floor, wiggling the smallest key on your ring into the lock until it opened. You barely checked the mail and it was stuffed full of coupons, advertisements, and the occasional statement from Veronica’s after-school daycare.

You tucked the papers under your arm and started the long ascent to your floor. You avoided the nails that stuck up through cheap wood. The spots in the carpet that had been soaked through with water damage. None of it seemed to bother you.

“Good morning, Miss Baxter.” You mumbled to the older woman who always perched in front of her door in a busted lawn chair. She had a perfect view of her neighbor across the hall. Her little, crusty white dog barked in morse code at you.

“What’s so good about it? Raining buckets and everything in this godforsaken place leaks.”

“Well, I suppose that’s where the buckets would come in handy.”

She made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat but you were already a good portion of the way up the final flight of stairs. You pressed your shoulder tactfully against your apartment door pushing it open before you threw the mail on the table and flicked on the kitchen light. The air conditioning chilled you to the bone, drying the damp spots on your clothes.

There was a click in the far side of the room, one that was unfamiliar from the ticking of the air unit, or the settling of an old building. You were used to those noises. This was entirely too human for your liking, so you drew your gun in a fluid movement, much like the other night.

Without hesitation, flicking off the safety and aiming.

Darcy was sitting in the beaten recliner in the corner. There was an upturned book on the side of the chair. You weren’t sure how long she had been sitting there, but from the bags under her eyes, the way her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, you knew it had been awhile.

You instantly lowered the weapon, hands suddenly shaking. “Darcy, what are you-?”

“I… I knew that something was up these last few months. I thought you had started seeing someone, a regular at the diner, or, or God forbid the dude who works behind the grill. But when I went to the diner you weren’t even there. They said you hadn’t been there for months. And can you please put that thing away?”

“Sorry, I’m sorry” your words were pinched as you rebolstered your weapon. “I can explain.”

“Can you?” She stood, closing the distance between you both now that there wasn’t a loaded gun in the middle. You straightened up, heart pounding haplessly in your chest. “Because Monica Rambeau came up to me at work the other day and told me that you were lying. She… she wouldn’t tell me what, just that you weren’t being truthful, and I defended you, y/n.

“I defended you because you’re my best friend. You have been for years. I’ve stood by you through everything. Through meeting Ronnie’s father, and getting pregnant and comforting you when he left you- because he did leave both of you!”

“Darcy,”

“No. Let me finish. Let me finish. I’ve been here for you every step of the way. Every single step and the only thing that I’ve ever expected from you is honesty. Don’t you think I deserve that? Don’t you think Ronnie deserves that?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, watching her carefully as she caught her breath, and her bearings. You had only seen Darcy this angry once, and it had been years ago. Sophomore year of high school when her parents decided to split, and her father tried to get her to move to Washington state with him.

She fought and fought because they waited until the last minute to tell her. They weren’t truthful, and you hadn’t been truthful either. More importantly, in both situations, she had been right.

“The y/n I know, can’t draw a gun like that, and doesn’t come home covered in bruises, and doesn’t flinch into action at every little noise. The y/n I know wouldn’t have lied to me in the first place. So, what is going on?”

“Can we… sit?”

You didn’t entirely trust the strength of your legs right now. Parts of you were sore, you had realized that as you climbed the stairs. You could feel them trembling now and fought the urge to curl up on the carpet that was right under your feet.

“I’m fine standing.”

“A drink, then? It’s uh, it’s five somewhere, right?”

“y/n.”

“Right, yes. I know.”

And you did know, but only to a certain extent. If Monica hadn’t gone to Darcy, would you have? It was a single night of drunken lovemaking followed by a less-than-graceful exit into the cold of autumn. There was a tightness to seeing her again, and the underlying fear that this would happen. But so many things were happening.

“I am sorry that I haven’t been truthful with you, but you have to believe me, it was for your own safety. For Ronnie’s safety. I would never lie without a good reason.”

“Well, that’s subjective, isn’t it?” Darcy’s breathed “You always think you know what’s best for me, what’s best to hide from me. But you don’t know what I can handle.”

Okay, you absolutely needed that drink. Darcy wasn’t going to leave now, not without answers she was pushing so hard for. Ronnie was getting too tall for her own good, so you hid the good liquor in the cabinet above the fridge.

Bourbon, warm or not, was your choice and right now you couldn’t bother with ice, just a mug that you had gotten from a thrift store. It was from Cabo and had a little white sand beach and a flamingo wearing sunglasses on the front. You’d never been to Cabo.

The first sip went down burning, and the second soothed the first. “I took a loan.”

“Like, from a bank?”

“From a shark. Technically. They don’t call them that, but that’s what they are. I didn’t realize it at the time, or else I wouldn’t have, but I was already two months behind on rent and I refused to ask you to cover me again. That’s not your responsibility. You already do so much for me and Ronnie.”

She opened her mouth to object, to rush in and say that she would have given you anything and you knew she would. But that didn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t have asked her in the first place.

“I didn’t pay them back in time and they weren’t very lenient. They took me under their custody to persuade me into coming up with the money.”

“Persuade? Their custody?”

“Kidnapped… beat within an inch of death. Whatever way you look at it, I was on their bad side.”

With horrible judgement you filled up another two fingers of whisky, only swallowing half but making eye contact with Darcy as you had done so. Simmering behind her deep blue stare was a mix of pity you were desperate to avoid. It soon dwindled back into discontent and that made you want to continue.

“I was spared on account that I wasn’t their usual clientele. Natasha, she called me… shit, what was it? An oversight? I was a blip in the system. I wasn’t supposed to happen and for that reason, and that reason alone, she offered me an ultimatum.”

Darcy sidled up to the counter that rested like a drawn line between you both. Her fingers tapped nervously on the surface but some of the tension had drained from her shoulders. “Natasha? That.. woman from the fair? The one with Clint?”

“Oh, Clint, you remember?” You smiled.

“He’s strong. Rugged.” She shrugged, frowning “That’s not the point. You’re telling me he’s a part of this sharking business? You’re telling me you let a known criminal that close to your daughter? To me?”

“I get how that sounds bad, Dee, but he’s really not a horrible guy. He’s a father himself and you’re right. You’re right. It’s not the point.” You swallowed the second half of your drink and placed the novelty mug in the sink to stop yourself from polishing off more of the bottle. “They gave me an ultimatum.”

“An ultimatum?”

“I could kill myself working at the diner everyday for the rest of my life. Twelve-hour shifts with most of the funds feeding right back into their palms. It would take decades to give back the money I took from them. Or, I could work for Natasha and pay off my debts in a quarter of the time.”

Silence filled the room. The only type of silence that you knew, that was filled with the sounds of the city. Your neighbors to the left were having a fight that seemed bigger than the one you and Darcy had now. A boombox blasted reggae music across the street and certain beats bled through the thin glass windows.

You swallowed the acrid flavor on your tongue. “For the last four months instead of the diner, I have been with Natasha. With Clint. They’ve been teaching me, and at first, I hated every single second of it. I was scared for… for weeks. But, Darcy, I’m starting to enjoy it and that scares me more than anything.”

“I need to sit down,” She mumbled.

“I offered,”

“I know.”

She flopped down onto the sofa that folded out into a bed. You’d slept there for a month when Darcy’s apartment was being fumigated and you refused to make her take the couch. It was hell on your back, but Ronnie had never been happier to wake up to the both of you each morning.

It carried a familiar clean scent. Darcy pulled a blanket into her lap and ran her fingers over the bumps in stitching. You cautiously lowered yourself down next to her, starting to feel the effects of an empty stomach and too much liquor for the afternoon. You were suddenly nauseous and starving all at once.

“There’s more,” Darcy said, “What you just told me was a lot, but there’s more. I know you, y/n, and I’m giving you an opportunity here to tell me everything.”

You sighed, slumping on the couch. You could feel the bar in the center of the couch push against your spine. There was a crack in the ceiling next to a gray and brown water stain that looked like a Rorschach test.

“Natasha. I think I’m in love with her.” You could hear Darcy turn her head with a dizzying quickness. “I’m not supposed to be, it’s the last thing I’m supposed to be. I’m supposed to be protecting her and that’s incredibly hard to do when I’m distracted by her eyes.”

Darcy was laughing and it lightened the mood in the room. The tension was still thick enough to slice with a knife, but it was enough to get you to look at her. “You’ve got it bad, huh?”

“The worst.”

“You really think this is what’s best, huh? Putting yourself into the line of fire like this? Handling a gun?”

“I do. I really, really do.” You picked up her hand, relieved that she didn’t pull away so you squeezed it, just to make sure that it was real. That she hadn’t run at the first sign of trouble. “I always tell Ronnie that I’d get us out of here one day. All of us. And I never knew how to do that on $2.00 an hour.”

Darcy sighed heavily; she leaned her head on your shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know. But some risks you just have to take.”

The sun had broken through the clouds for the first time in days. It streamed through the windows of Natasha’s private office, nestled at the back of the large house. In the past week, you had been here twice and each time your heart thudded impossibly fast.

This time, she had summoned you before you were through the doors for your normal shift. There were no extra caveats. You weren’t meant to head down to the docks, or to one of the many storefronts that were rented from the Romanoff family. Instead, you were simply meant to be here.

The home was empty, you knew from the lack of cars that were outside. Natasha’s was the only one in the lot besides yours. There was a certain quiet to the day and the French doors that led to her private office were ajar to strengthen the airflow.

She was focused on the work in front of her, hair in a messy bun and two strands falling from her haphazard job. There were black frame glasses on her face. Her face was scrunched up in a frankly adorable expression. It softened when she glanced up and saw you, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

Much to your dismay, she removed her glasses “Come in, close the doors behind you.”

You did as you were told, letting them fall with the subtle shake of the blinds. They’d been closed but a small stream of golden light was splayed across Natasha’s desk. It caught the intensity of her eyes, the sharp green color that only came out when she was surrounded by these walls.

“Sit,”

Obediently, you moved to do so, pulling one of the leather chairs out from its spot on the other side of the desk. You felt shame, despite last night. She was still your boss, still the person you were meant to protect. That’s what you were being altered for.

“Not there.”

You lifted your eyebrows, halting in your spot. Natasha pushed back in her rolling chair, ever so slightly. She gestured vaguely to her lap. She can’t be serious? This had to be some type of test? It didn’t seem like one. You certainly wouldn’t mind having her arms wrapped around you, her scent enveloping, intoxicating.

Cautiously, you did as you were told, lowering yourself onto Natasha’s lap. There was an overwhelming warmth, a destined comfort to being in her arms, so much safety in the simple gesture of her pulling you close.

She guided your chin until your lips were close to hers, not quite touching. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” You responded before closing the distance. She hummed into the kiss, her tongue running over her lips, against the roof of your mouth. You could taste her morning coffee and a hint of mint.

“I missed you.”

“It’s been two days,”

She hummed, pressing her cold nose against your throat. The weekends were reserved for relaxation, and as much as you wanted to stay with Natasha in this giant house, you had a life within the city; a daughter, friends, responsibility.

“I don’t want you work for me anymore.”

You frowned and pulled slightly away from her, your arms still circling her neck. This certainly had to be a test but there was no indication to such on her face. She had nothing but a tender expression, a quiet one that left no room for argument, but you weren’t built like that.

“What?”

“I,” Natasha dipped her gaze, pressing her forehead against your cheek. Her words were a whisper. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You can’t get hurt if I don’t put you in the line of fire.”

There were a few moments of silence aside from the large clock on one of the bookshelves that clicked with each passing second. Natasha had never been vulnerable with you like this. There had been moments of soft expressions, but never this.

Gently, you lifted her chin, forcing her to look at you. “Natasha, I can’t do that. I can’t just stop protecting you. It’s all I’ve been training for these last months.”

“I want to offer you something more, y/n. You and Ronnie both. I want you to have a home here… with me.”

You breathed her in, your forehead against hers. Your eyes were closed, but you could feel her watching you for any kind of reaction, anything that would give your feelings away. She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture making your shudder against her.

“I want that too. But more than anything, I want to keep you safe. I still want this. I still want to be there for you like I have been. Behind you every step of the way.” You chuckled sadly, “While being a trophy girlfriend sounds amazing, I want to earn my keep.”

Natasha smiled at you, “Girlfriend? That’s quite the title.”

“I mean it,” you played with her necklace, an equally as small gold chain. “I want to keep training. Girlfriend or not. If you’re going to keep me around.”

She moved forward, kissed against the small expanse of skin behind your ear, down the side of your neck. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Mmhm, but I was serious about you and Ronnie.” She pulled back, brushing her thumb over your flushed cheek. “I like you, y/n. You make me happy.”

Before you could respond, her lips were against yours again, her hands tracing up your sides. You were well aware of how close the two of you were, of how easy it was to get heated in this position, of Natasha’s cold fingertips as they ghosted under the hem of your shirt.

“I brought pizza from that place on the corner that you like,” You balanced the large and greasy box on your hip. It wasn’t your favorite place, the man behind the counter was always rude and the line was out the door. But it was for good reason, you had to admit, because the food was always delicious and made you forget about all the complications.

Darcy ate pineapple on her half the pizza like a criminal. You and Veronica were content with pepperoni, but you’d have to sprinkle extra parmesan cheese on her slices, cutting them into small pieces and providing her with a fork.

There was quiet to Darcy’s apartment. One that reminded you of the many times you had pulled your weapon in preparation. Your hands were full with the box, with a plastic bag filled with off-brand soda and two-dollar movies that were on the shelf at the corner store.

You struggle to swallow your own fear at the sight that lies in front of you. The television is muted, but a cartoon continues to cast the living room in a pale, blue light. Darcy is sprawled on the couch, her chest rising and falling in what seems to be a heavy sleep.

The light above the oven is on and the kitchen table is far from unoccupied. Ronnie looks up at your entrance, content with the array of markers, colored pencils, and crayons that are scattered in front of her.

Carol Danvers sits in an adjacent chair, working on staying in the lines of her own picture. You weren’t close enough to see what she had drawn, but based on her track-record you were sure it was something ghastly.

Monica Rambeau sat in the recliner, a mug of something steaming in her hand. Her eyes were trained on the television despite the lack of sound. They didn’t flick to you when you entered. She was confident that you weren’t going to make a move. Cocky.

“Is that from Ginos?” Carol asked, capping the marker that she was using. “God, they have the best pizza.”

“Yeah, it is.” You whispered.

Cautiously, you let the door close behind you. With an almost domestic way about you, you set the box and the bags down on the counter before wiping the sweat on your jeans. You made quick eye contact with Monica. She nodded at you, regarded you quietly.

“Sit, I was just telling Veronica that she’s very good at coloring. You’ve got a real artist on your hands, Y/n.”

“So, I’ve been told.” You sat down, keeping both of your hands on the table. Kate told you that it was a sign of trust. That if you were quick enough, and she was sure that you were, it wouldn’t matter how far away your weapon was. “What did you do to Darcy?”

“Oh, she’s just so exhausted. Sometimes working a nine-to-five will just take it right out of you. She’ll wake up tomorrow morning after some much needed rest.”

You nodded; mouth incredibly dry. Carol was watching you carefully. She had scribbled something that looked like a mass of color but the more you stared, just like the stain on the ceiling in your own apartment, the more it looked like something more.

She laughed, shaking her head “I’m afraid I’m not as good of an artist as your daughter.”

Ronnie looked at you, her eyes searching your face. It was easy to read her. You had for years. There was curiosity there, but no fear. Carol had probably led with something along the lines of I’m friends with your mother.

Or maybe it had been Monica who forced her way in first. She’d wandered into the kitchen and opened the box of food. Her nose scrunched up at the prospect of fruit on pizza, but she made quick work of picking off the offensive items.

Carol pushed the sheet of paper close to you. “Tell me, y/n, what do you see?”

“I… I don’t know. It looks like a duck.” She lifted her eyebrows, looking or more, and you confidently pointed to each element. “The beak is right here, and the eye is here.”

“Right.” Carol made a swift movement and flipped the photo. “What does it look like now?”

For someone that claimed not to have a good eye for art, Carol sure had a high opinion of a diagram she’d created with a few waxy crayons. It wasn’t the best drawn creature, but you got the general idea.

“A rabbit.”

Carol beamed at you and it made you feel sick to your stomach. “Clever one, aren’t you? Do you see how the world can be viewed in more than one way? To you, this could be a duck, or a rabbit, or just a poorly drawn abstract painting.”

“It’s very well done.”

“Don’t flatter me. I know what I’m capable of. I know what I’m up against. More importantly, I need you to know that sometimes, perspective can change everything.” She leaned back in her chair, rolling a crayon under her fingertips. “The Romanoff family is on the wrong side of an ongoing war, and by association, so are you.”

Veronica got out of her chair then, finally losing interest in the activity that was given to her. Monica and Carol tensed, as did you. But your daughter gave you a look that indicated television. Something else to occupy her mind. You let out a shaky breath.

“Sure, baby. Keep it low, okay?”

She nodded at you and scrambled over to the living room. There were soft noises from the cartoons afterwards. She sat patiently close to the screen to she could hear. She minded you well, hugging a throw-pillow close to her chest.

“It was very easy to track you down. Did you know that? Almost as easy to get in here, to have full access to your life. The life you had before you met Natasha Romanoff.” Carol reached into her coat pocket, she pulled out a business card. “You need to choose a side. If you’re going to stick around in this town, you need to choose a side, or get better locks.”

She left it on the table along with the smattering of art supplies and her crudely drawn photo that was supposed to teach you about perspective. Though, you were certain you knew all you needed to. There wasn’t even a question.

Carol stood and gestured for Monica to follow. She clapped you on the shoulder before she left, her words just the quietest of whispers. “I understand her allure, y/n. But there’s more than one force to deal with in this city.”

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stonemags · 10 months

Text

SUGAR BABY AU

Ch.6 Mishandle

Characters in this series: Reader, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Carol Danvers, Darcy Lewis, Maria Hill, Kate Bishop, Pepper Potts, Valkyrie, Shuri

Summary:How much can you trust people that are the closest to you? Can you put any trust into strangers? After being tricked so many times, you can be sure to trust one person ... yourself. You should have left it that way, to bad you give second chances like fliers on the street.

Warnings: age gap relationships, sugar mommy/sugar baby relationships, swearing, mensplaning, all story is gonna be +18, you are responsible for your own ass.

Word count: 8915

A/N: This one is coming out faster this time, to make up for the wait ive put you all on. I hope you will enjoy it. Feedback is always walcome! Previous chapter

Your desk is covered in papers, the screen too bright for your liking, your eyes are stinging after hours of sharp focus on the monitor, but this old computer is not really cooperating with you. Loud noises are distracting, making it hard for you to finish your tasks, and you have a lot of them. Your boss, Loki, has put on you a first adult-ish assignment. It's your chance to no longer make coffee, kind of work, even more that fresh inters came in so they are at the bottom of the chain right now. That's how it works. The amount of work stresses you out but you are not going to let the opportunity slide. You can finally edit a text that will end up in one of the less popular magazines, but it's still going to be out. Doesn't matter how insignificant it will be, your name will be on this work and you need to give a 100% out of you.

It's been 2 weeks since Carol's party, you haven't seen her or any of her friends since that night and to be completely honest you thought about Natasha and Wanda …. not more than once. When you came home and changed the bandaid on your hand the next day, you reminded yourself of how caring and worried they were, but also very smug and self indulgent, after that… nothing. You had school, work, shifts at the bar and your friends to care about. Not mentioning your phone caller issue that you will have to address and take care of at some point. Your life fell back into place after that night, gym, school, work, repeat. You have to keep the flow going or it's really easy to get lost in this kind of lifestyle. It's like running at full speed, you can't trip. The faster you go the harder you are going to hit.

“You better do it right yn.” That low voice scared you coming from behind your shoulder. Loki was always creepy, not in a perverted way but still creepy.

“Yes boss, on it.” Short and sweet, don't discuss with him, you have learned it the hard way. It's for the best to make him feel validated. You assume that he had a rough childhood by the way he treats other people and by the not so quiet conversations he has with his brother in the office. You can't help but hear them, all the workers do, and you learned to have some understanding towards him.

You are at your last working hour, the phone is thrown into the drawer so it won't occupy you but your smart watch is vibrating with the amount of messages you are getting. You ignore every single one of them even when the vibration is traveling up your arm, leaving goosebumps on your skin. Last ten minutes you spend on cleaning your desk and putting your stuff into the bag. As you run down two flights of stairs you think about your plan for the rest of the day. You are done with work for now, you have spent half of the night doing extra work for school to get a little bit ahead and it worked amazingly on your anxiety, or the lack of it. You decide on visiting Steve on your way home, even if you don't have a shift at the bar, you enjoy spending time with him. As someone opens the door in front of you to let you exit first, with a short “thanks” you are outside, changing your plans immediately after you feel the warm sun. At this time of the year it is rare and you are planning on using that antidepressant window. The skin on your face feels like it is covered in a thin layer of warmth getting deeper inside of you, embracing your brain in an endorphin hug. You will visit Steve later, for now you are going to grab a nice coffee from the bike/coffee stand near the park and have a walk with your headphones on, ignoring the whole world.

“Can you start picking up your goddamn phone!” You turn around just in time to stop an angry Darcy right in front of you. Her face seems worried just as she is angry. Right behind her there is Carol clearly having a laugh at her girlfriend's tantrum. When you see her smile you can help but join and embrace Darcy in a hug.

“Sorry Darcy, work stuff. What’s up, what's so important that you came here?” It's unusual for any of your friends to arrive at any of your work places, from your work friends they know only Steve as they hang out at the bar sometimes, but they dont push to get to know everybody around you and you are grateful for that. Darcy points at the car that her girlfriend is already entering and with a big sigh you throw behind you all the warm sunny plans you had and follow along. The car always smells new and you are wondering if Carol is actually exchanging her car for the same one, just new, from time to time. Seems like something she would do. Leather seats squeak under your touch and you take your place in the backseat and you hate every second of it. It's like wearing leather pants, for you it feels like biting a cotton towel, or having your sleeves getting wet, when you wash your hands. Uncomfortable at least.

Carol starts driving and Darcy looks at you with a really excited expression on her face.

“No.” You say to her, making her confused right away.

“I didn't even say anything.”

“But you are going to, and you are excited, which means i have to do stuff, and you could text me what’s all this is about, but you didn't, so kidnapping me is the only way for me to participate in whatever evil plan you made.” She seems almost offended but it lasts three seconds before she starts laughing.

“You know me so well.” She is slouching over the back of her sweet so she can face you and it makes Carol uncomfortable, worrying that if anything happens the seat belt would work correctly. With one hand on the wheel, Carol puts the other on Darcy's thigh and turns her around. She turns off music and with a steer voice starts talking.

“Yn can hear your love, don't do that please.” Darcy takes Carol hand into hers not taking off her thigh, just to confirm that she understood and she is sorry.

“Yes daddy, I'm sorry.” Carol is rarely mad at Darcy, she doesn't really have a reason to, they made for each other, at least in your opinion, but when she is Darcy will use any pet name she can to melt her girlfriends heart and get on her good side again, and it's clearly working wonders.

“You are having a date Yn.” Carol informs you and you know this is a way of hers to mess with Darcy, the fact that she wasn't the one to share the news infuriates her.

“I was supposed to, ugh…. I have an outfit for you at Carol's house and we will give you a ride to the restaurant.”

“That's amazing, thank you very much… but I have work. My shift at the bar starts in-”

“In two days Yn, I have access to your calendar, don't try anything with me.” Feeling defeated, you slouch back a little bit and let your eyes follow the world outside of the car. Carol turns on the radio again after a minute of silence, assuming that everything was said and it won't be irritating for anyone. For a second you even let yourself sink into music and the outside world. Sun is peeking through the small alleys between the buildings, falling on your face in a pattern. You remember briefly that when you weren't able to fall asleep as a child your parents, or someone, you can't really remember, was taking you into the car and driving a couple of times around the block. Street Lamps or the sun flashing from time to time on your face was making you feel good, safe, comfortable, like there is something so bigger then you and everything around you. You found comfort in unlimitless nothingness and even now as an adult you feel safe. You are able to fight the sleepy state, well maybe you drifted away a little bit, and as you see Carol's house you are fully conscious again, anxiety of what's coming slowly creeping in.

You enter the house, talk with Carol and Darcy about the last party and upcoming events, work stuff, your studies and Darcy's new projects at her school. You can never fully understand what she is talking about, too much chemical talk but you are so proud of her and happy that she can feel fulfilled with where she is. You are always interested in Carol's work and life, maybe that's why you are the closest to her among all your friends. She appreciates the way you treat her as her, not as Darcy's girlfriend or treat both of them as one, because as close as they are, they are still themself. They help you prepare, get your hair fixed, put a nice outfit together, and Carol even let you borrow some of her perfume. In no time you are back in the car going to the unknown location, to meet with a stranger. You are reminding Darcy that you agreed for half an hour of this show and then you are going to be even. She tries to extend it for an hour, using arguments like “ you can't get to know a person in half hour”, or “ you won't be even able to eat”. As you pull in front of the restaurant you see three Michelin stars in the front of it and you almost choke.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME? IN HERE I'M NOT GOING TO BE ABLE TO GET A GLASS OF WATER WITH MY BUDGET!” It was louder than you anticipated and the doorman put his focus on the car in front of him. He started going into your direction but Darcy opened the window at the right time.

“Everything is okay, we just need a second.” He smiled and without any words pointed at the parking spot a little bit further from the main door. Carol took a clue and parked there. Darcy took her seat belt off and turned to you, making you jump.

“Darcy this is too much, and why do I even have to get so dressed up for someone I will turn down in the first two minutes?” You don't want to do this, and you can't be more clear than that. As bad as it sounds you are planning on being just as honest with your date.

“Give them a chance, Jesus, why are you so negative, they're gonna pay for you.” She got out of the car and opened your door rushing you outside. The restaurant is far enough from your house to have a real struggle with coming back, so you have to rely on Darcy and you are not enjoying this feeling. Just when you stepped outside it came to you what she said.

“They!? What do you mean by They ?! Darcy is that -'' You can't even finish, Darcy closes your door, jumps back into her seat and as in a getaway car tells Carol to drive. You can only hear a faint have fun coming from her window. You run your hand down your face, taking a deep breath in and decide to get through it as ripping off a bandaid, fast but painfully. You straighten out your outfit, little crevices created by the short ride are easy to clean up and the cleaned up outfit helps you a lot with your confidence. You feel like you will need a lot of it during that dinner. Constant tag and pull with the redheads is exhausting and staying afloat as they try to drown you down feels like a survival chore. You can't help but be angry at Darcy, you know she wants good, you know you promised but you feel a little bit betrayed. You can't really pinpoint why but the feeling spreads uncomfortable through your body, or maybe it's just the cold that went back with the sun setting down. Beautiful purple color of the sunset lets you grab the last bits of energy, hope and the feeling of rest. You know it will end as soon as you turn around to enter the restaurant or when the sun will finally set. It's sad that you can't wait for the latter.

“Half hour Yn, just half hour.” You talk to yourself hoping it will help you feel the back bone of your character and get through it smoothly enough. What 30 minutes can do right?

You enter the building, or rather you are led by the doorman through two sets of doors. After the second one you are met with a man in a suit, he looks important, you are wondering if that's the owner, maybe a menager, they are always around right? He looks so elegant that his status needs to be at a high level. Little lost in your head you hear him speak when the doors are closing behind you.

“May I take your coat miss?” Miss? Coat? You thought that this man is… and he is just…. It's going to be long, thirty minutes.. This is not something you enjoy, not something that is a part of your world. You just need to survive this. You are wondering how the man will know which coat is yours. He didn't give you a number nor did he take your name. It's all strange and the coat belongs to Carol, you are worrying now about getting it back later.

Restaurant seems much bigger from the outside. The building is huge but the dining area pleasantly small. The kitchen must take a lot of space, you think to yourself approaching a Host of the restaurant. Small wooden desk in front of him looks amazing. Golden leaves decorating the legs as a vine. The whole place is in darker colors but it gives a more elegant and fancy look to it. Smell is not overwhelming which is usually a problem for you in the restaurants, not in this. You can hear a light chatter around,

“Welcome, do you have a reservation?” He asks you with his back straight, his tie carefully secured around his neck. Do you have a reservation? This whole thing feels so out of blue, catching you off guard in every single step, it seems.

“Um… I….” You can't recall their last name, why can't you recall their last name? You fall back into the memory, you follow the steps of the day you meet them. You went to work, bus ride, Wanda opened the door for you, she had her suit on, her shirt was open, she had a messy bun on top, she had this nice perfume on her, the same she used last time you saw her at the Carols party. You could feel it clearly when she was tending your wound. Darcy introduced them to you. She said their names, they are both lawyers or Wanda is a lawyer and Natasha is in finances, yes that seems correct. Did she say their last name ? You remember now, she didn't but they gave you their card…. which you didn't even look at, before throwing it away. Then it comes to you, you were supposed to text them last time after the accident, they gave you a new card and you actually have it on you at the back of your phone case. It is very embarrassing trying to get your phone out of its case but also necessary. Host is waiting for you patiently, his face emotionless, he was definitely well trained for his job.

“It should be on the name-” You finally take out a card and look at the last name. “-Romanoff, or Maximoff. One of those.” It's strange to see that they are married, but they still use separate last names, it might be just for business and you decide on asking them if you will have to speak at all. At least it's going to be something to talk about. You smoothly follow the host to your table, moving between the tables you can see all the food prepared for other guests and your stomach lets you know about its empty state. Smell coming from each of the tables will not be very helpful in the next 30 minutes, because there is no way that you are going to let them pay for anything, not with these prices. At the far left corner of the restaurant you can see Wanda and Natasha chatting between each other, their hands together on the table, Natasha is lightly smoothing her wifes hand with her thumb, laughing at something she said. It's the first time they don't seem like big, scary rich assholes, more human than before. You are afraid, or maybe you are sure it's going to drop as soon as they are going to see you. First to notice you is Natasha, she lets go of Wandas hand and stands up to greet you. You don't want to make a scene in the restaurant, so you kiss her cheek as her hand lingers on your waist and you do the same with Wanda. Looking at them, seeing how dressed up they are, you are glad that Darcy made you wear the clothes she prepared, if you would dress yourself, you would for sure stand out, not in a good way. You take your place on an empty chair when Wanda starts speaking to you.

“I hope you didn't have any problems finding us?” She sounds soft, soft enough for you to find it degrading.

“Except not knowing your last names it was pretty easy.” You say in a rough voice and that makes Natasha look back to the man that brought you to the table.

“You didn't have you, I gave him clear instructions. It's not that hard to do the only thing you are here for. I'm going to talk to him.” She drops the napkin on an empty table and stands up. You are not sure how you find your voice, maybe it's the nervous atmosphere that Natasha is adding to, or maybe your empathy for a fellow customer service worker, but you speak up.

“Sit down!” To your surprise, she does with a shocked face, while her wife laughs a little.

“Can we just order and get this over with? It feels like work.” You ask and that makes Wanda look at you quizzingly.

“What do you mean baby? Get it over with?” You put down the menu that you were reading and look her in the eyes.

“I promised Darcy that I will be here for at least half an hour. It started five minutes ago and I'm counting the time. I didn't want to be here and I found out just when she dropped me off that I'm meeting with you both.” She looks hurt and you need to address that before it gets more messy, even more that Natasha looks angry. You look between them and continue.

“Look-” You run your hand on your face, as it is supposed to take off the worry. “-I’m sorry, but i'm not looking for dates, or relationships. Any kind of relationship.” You say pointing your finger between them.

“Can we just spend this 25 minutes talking or whatever and I promise you won’t have to waste any more time on me.” That makes Wanda's face soften. She looks like she is about to say something but Natasha cuts in.

“Sure, let's just order something.” In the next three minutes you placed an order and as much as they pursued you to get something to eat you didn't get anything. You got a coffee which cost twenty five dollars. You regret that decision, thinking that you would be okay with the tap water. Your stomach starts to hurt with how empty it is and all the smells are affecting it in a horrible way. Wanda and Natasha placed their orders and food came in faster then it took to order it. They are really at the top in this restaurant. They start eating while you enjoy your coffee. Wanda tries to start a light conversation, to make it a little bit less awkward for all of you.

“So Yn, Darcy told us you were working today, was it a good shift?”

“Decent, I got my first article to do a final edit to.” You say and take a sip of coffee, looking at Wanda enjoying her pasta alfredo. You feel yourself salivating and you probably look too long at her food, because it makes her wonder if you actually want anything.

“Yn, are you sure you are not hungry?” Wanda says and her wife finally joins the conversation.

“We know we picked an expensive restaurant, let us get you something to eat sugar.” She is about to call the waiter to the table again.

“No. No, Natasha no, I'm really okay. Please don’t.” She looks at you, deeply studying your eyes, knowing that you are doing that because you are uncomfortable with the prices, but still she doesn't want to go against you, as much as she wishes she could. With each passing time she spends with you, she realizes that you can be destructive for yourself, and she would gladly take that away from you. You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket but you decide to keep it there for the next fifteen minutes. Time feels like it stretches itself, making you feel like it has been over an hour. You keep your fingers on the brim of your coffee mug, trying to make your legs stop shaking, and your muscles twitching. It's not that you are nervous, you are past that, but your medication is wearing off and you can feel it. At this time you would either take a second dose if you were at work, or with your friends, or just people in general, or you would take some actions to make yourself comfortable. Caffeine doesn't help, and it was a bad idea as it just makes you more and more sleepy with every second. Your left hand is laying on the table and the tablecloth feels awful against your fingertips. Material feels like it lingers on your skin even after you pick your hand up, it's too soft and too harsh at the same time, like a used sandpaper sheet. You wish you could pick your hand up but you can't. It feels embarrassing to do so, not because of the action but because of the reason to do so, so you force yourself to keep it that way. Only fifteen minutes longer. It feels like you said it to yourself an hour ago but with the time speed in your brain, it was only a minute. You are physically restraining yourself from counting seconds, numbers help you stay sane but you can't do that right now, if you would, everything that two woman in front of you are speaking about would go into the void, and as a center of entertainment for them right now you can’t allow yourself to drift off, they would notice. Clutter of silverware feels like it's happening at the front part of your skull, Lady at the table on your right has some good insights about new generations of doctors, she is a doctor too, she has her id clipped to her bag. Man to whom she is speaking is sweating a lot, he is nervous and it seems like they are on a date. One girl, a waiter, has had enough of today, she stands at the corner next to the bar, nobody can see her, or maybe nobody just pays attention, except you. Sometimes putting on a work uniform equals disappearing. She is running her hands on her thighs, looking up to the ceiling, she tries to stop crying. That makes you look around the room, a man in a big suit is red on his face, he was just yelling, or arguing since you didn't hear anything before. He shoves food into his mouth like it's going to calm his nerves.

“Are you even listening?” Natasha calls out and just then her voice breaks through all the loud noise around you.

“Hm? I'm sorry I just-”

“Wasn't listening. Look, I understand you don't want to be here, but a little decency wouldn't hurt you. We are trying hard to get to know you, not use you, not sponsor you, not even embarrass you, just get to know you. I don't understand what's so awful about it.” She throws a napkin at the table and stands up.

“I need to use the restroom, I'll be right back.” She looks at her wife when she speaks, she is mad, you didn't mean to make her mad, or disappointed, you really do appreciate the interest.

“Nat, I really didn't mean to- '' You are trying to defend yourself but she is already gone, you lie your head low and massage your traps with your hands, it's painful but helpful. You get this uneasy feeling inside your stomach and you can't say if that's the lack of food or the nerves. Just then you realize that you picked your hand up from uncomfortable table cloth and you make a mental note not to put it down at the same place.

Wanda swallows the food she just finished, your time is almost up and you are grateful for it, even more that since the moment you went into the restaurant you were doing nothing more but disappointing everybody, including yourself. You decide to speak to her, maybe try to explain yourself a little why you are acting that way.

“Im sorry Wanda.”

“I know.” A moment of silence lingers between you when she grabs her wine glass, not taking her back off of her chair, stretching her arm out.

“I'm sorry about her, I’ m not saying she is not right yn, i feel the same way, but my wife is just very frustrated by you.” You hang your head low, like a child being scolded, you tell yourself that you shouldn't care about their opinion, but it matters, everybody's opinion matters and you hate that about yourself.

“I wasn't aware that I was that irritating for her. That's just an additional reason for why you shouldn't waste your time on me Wanda.” She smiles at you and shakes her head.

“Sexually frustrated Yn, emotionally frustrated. She really wants to get to know you, and she is being on her best behavior holding back every second we are spending with you.” That makes you even more confused.

“What do you mean?”

“You are a precious one aren't you?” This time you can be sure it was degrading.You straighten up your posture.

“That little stunt you did at the party?” She leans in, making you once again lost in the smell of her perfumes. You don't say anything but she can see on your face how oblivious you are.

“You remember that moment when Natasha went to you to simply try and devour you? That little stunt you pulled with her belt? Please you had to see her reaction, she has the same look every time she looks at you, and to be honest i don't blame her. I had a fun night thanks to you baby, it's a shame you weren't there.” She finishes the sentence and then her wine. You feel like you have finished all the air, it's hard to breathe and it's too warm, and you don't understand those feelings, they put you in a fight or flight state, but at the same time you are glued to the chair, not able to move. Wanda puts her hand on yours and interlocks your fingers, you are not able to stop her or yourself.

“Yn, breath.” She looks a little worried but at the same time highly entertained.

“What's going on?” Natasha comes back to the table and her voice brings you back and makes you let go of Wanda’s hand like it's burning you.

“Oh nothing love, I just told Yn how much fun I had because of her after the party.”

“Wanda-” Natasha says in a scolding way, seeing the state Wanda put you in. “- I apologize for my wife's sugar. Sometimes she can't keep her mouth shut.” Their holding hands and being so tender with each other, it makes you feel like an intruder.

“I thought you like it wide open.” Wanda's comment makes you choke on your coffee and it goes down the wrong pipe, sending you into a coughing spree. A girl, the waiter you saw before comes right in to check on you. You assure her that everything is okay, but she still leaves a glass of water for you on the side, sending you a warm smile. Wanda and Natasha cut the topic seeing in what way it's affecting you and you fall into light conversation for the last couple of minutes. You ask them about work and they can't say much other than it’s classified sounding like from csi miami series, but either way you are very much interested in stories they encounter while being at work.

Your phone vibrates a couple of more times and at the fifth time you can’t not pick it up. You assume who is trying to reach you but as you pull your phone out of the inside pocket in your jacket you can see that you were very wrong. You have ten messages and five missed calls, all from Shuri, and she never calls you. You immediately get this worried look and they can see it.

“What's going on Yn?”

“Is everything okay?” You don't even pick your head up to look at them.

“I'm sorry I need to call back. I'm sorry.” You dial Shuri on your phone and call her back without getting up from the table. You just turn your body side to them to get a little bit more private. She pics up after two dial tones.

“Shuri!? Is everything okay? What's going on?” You are holding your phone with your right hand and playing with the rings on your left hand. Your voice is low trying not to disturb anybody's dinner or conversations, fortunately your table is far enough from others. Natasha and Wanda pay close attention to you, their hands together in a caring manner.

“Now?” You ask and look at your watch.

“I'm really far away from the city-” You pinch your nose with your fingers.

“- I can try to call a cab-” A moment of silence from your side let's Wanda slip a fast question.

“Is something wrong?” She whispers to you laying her hand on the table close to you. You look at her apologetically.

“-it's not about the money Shuri. I'm just limited right now. How much time do I have? An hour? Okay, yeah I'm going to figure something out, don't worry about it I got you, just send me the location.” With that you hang up the phone and start looking around to collect your things, which you don't have because everything is in your coat. You look at them and you don't know what to say, you are just about to cut short a 30 minute meeting in which you already disappointed them so much. They are both worried that much you can say but Natsaha is definitely clenching her jaw, it's not a good sign. You try to find in yourself the right words to turn them down one last time, but you can't, not with this level of stress.

“I need to go.” You stand up looking between both of them. You take thirty dollars from your pocket and put it under your coffee mug.

“I'm sorry.” With that you leave them and don't provide them any explanation, to be honest they didn't ask. You move into the exit and wait a second for the man to give you your, actually Carol’s coat. You thank him and go outside trying to figure out what you are going to do.

Natasha and Wanda, a little disappointed with how things went, decided to finish dinner and head home. Fifteen minutes after you left they exit the restaurant and wait for their car to be brought. Just as they receive keys from the worker they hear a loud conversation on the side of the building. Natasha looks around the corner and sees you packing around with your phone in your ear, for a second she thinks about leaving you but her wife walks past her towards you.

“I understand but I don't have enough cash! You know how far it is, i can cash app the money whats the problem?! No don’t- . Ugh!” Clearly someone hung up on you. You are looking at your phone typing aggressively, you seem worried out of your mind.

“Okay Yn what's going on?” Wanda asks when her wife joins her and you are surprised to see them. You take a second before you reply.

“I can’t find a cab, it's nothing really. Again sorry it turned out this way.” Your phone rings again and you pick it up so fast that the second ring tone doesnt come.

“Yes, yes I called. I need a cab to the city center-” You pace around not being able to stay in place, even more that you just got this feeling in your legs that you can't describe. Each night before sleep, when your medicine wears off completely your legs have this tingly feeling, like slight electric shocking waves going through your muscles. It's nothing pleasant. Usually a hot shower helps but the alternative is just to keep moving, so that's what you do.

“- HOW MUCH? Okay yeah, yeah you too.” You sit down, cross legged at the curb, your left palm is open while your right is holding the phone, lightly tapping it on your left. Natasha crouches in front of you and tries to catch eye contact. You don't look up so she snatches the phone from your palm.

“Hey!” You reach to grab it back but she already gave it to Wanda that stands behind her.

“Tell us what's wrong, sugar?” You look between them, they look at you gently, worried, trying to read your expressions while you are breathing heavily with stress, your upper back is tense and you would love to shake it off of you. Without giving them too much information you speak up.

“I need to pick up someone from the city center and I should be there-'' You look at your watch trying to figure out how much time passed from your conversation with Shuri. “- in forty minutes. I called a couple of companies but they either don't have anybody in the area, or they don't have a cash app and I don't have that much cash on me.” You explain carefully, trying hard not to sound crazy or overemotional, even if you feel your body shaking. Natasha is standing up, it makes you feel like she is hovering above you, and you don't have energy to fight for your phone. To your surprise she stretches her hand towards you and helps you stand up. You follow, and the feeling of her skin on yours is very different from Wandas. It's hard to tell if that's a good or a bad thing. With both of them your whole relationship, if you can even call seeing them three times, a relationship, you had an off feeling but at the same time some connection that wanted to be made.

“Come on, we’re gonna drive you.” Natasha says with her face straight, she takes the space leaving no room for you to decline. You are in the tight spot, Shuri is counting on you and you are needed, there is a big possibility you won't be able to do this without their help, and oh god how much you hate it.

“No, i'm going to- i will-” Wanda interrupts your protest already opening the front passenger door for you.

“You will do what? You are out of options, Yn. Get in.” And you do, with her hand on the small of your back you take the space next to Natasha. For a second you are confused about why you are sitting in the front seat.

“ Tell me where to go.” Natsaha doesn't even take a look at you, she seems pissed and you don't blame her, you would probably hate yourself in their position. ruining the date, making them do something for you, ruining their day schedule. They both probably have a thousand better places to be right now, and they are stuck with you. Awkwardness of the situation doesn't help the anxiety you have about the passing time, you are scared of running late, always, but in this situation even more. After giving them the address and helping with directions from time to time you are 5 minutes away from your destination.

“So who is Shuri?” Wanda asks from the back seat, taking your focus off of the road in front of you.

“Oh she studies at the university with me, she is Tony Stark’s best student.” You explain briefly.

“That Stark? What a small world.” Natasha comments taking a fast look at her wife in the back mirror.

“ That's nice, baby, but I meant who is she to you.” Are you imagining things or does she sound jealous? You can't help but wonder. You are not sure what makes you open up in front of them in any way, but you do.

“She is my-” you make a little pause, wondering what words you should use. “-friend, a really good friend.”

“Hm a really good one you say?” Wanda is pushing you a little bit trying to bring some more information out of you.

“Yeah, we were together for two years, she is like family to me. Actually her whole family kind of took me in, as a part of them.” Too much Yn, too much, You bite your tongue, probably a little too late, you are mad at yourself for revealing that much about your past, to total strangers. That was always an issue for you, if someone was willing to listen you were eager to talk. That's unfortunately not a safe thing to do, at least usually.

“So we went out to pick up your ex?” Natasha is straight forward, and strangely you respect that. At that moment you arrive in front of elementary school.

“Actually no.” You answer quickly and get out of the car, looking straight at the little boy waiting with his teacher near the gate. You walk in their direction.

“JUNIOR!” You yell out for him and the moment he sees you, his backpack is on the ground and he runs into your direction. You catch him into your arms and spin him around as he hugs himself close to your neck, securing his legs around your torso. You walk still holding him up to pick up his backpack. You didn't realize that both Natasha and Wanda got out of the car and were approaching you.

“It's been a while since we saw you miss Yn. Have a nice day.” Teacher sends Junior T’Challa a wave and goes back into the building. You are written down on the list to pick up Shuri’s nephew. It's not the first time for you to do that, but it's true that it's been a while. Boy refuses to let you go as you try to pick up his backpack. Before you can do it, struggling a little bit Natasha snatches it from the ground looking down at you.

“Yn? Who is that?” Junior asks you and to be honest you hoped that they would already leave.

“This is Natasha and Wanda, they drove me here, which I'm very thankful for, but now they have to go. Right?” You hope that the hint is not too small.

“Actually we have the whole day reserved for you Yn. You and this little boy now.”

“Im T'Challa Junior.” He says proudly, getting out of your arms at the same time.

“It's Shuris nephew.” You kneel down, fixing his jacket. The water proof material got stuck in the zipper. You take the piece out and zip it all the way up, trying to keep him nice and warm.

“She got stuck with Profesor Stark.” Boy gets visibly sad after that information. You are thinking for a second if you should do something with him, or just get him home and take care of your responsibilities, which to be honest are piling up. You got three texts about essays that are needed for tomorrow. All for the same class and the same topic, which is the worst case scenario for you.

“Don't worry, Yn here is actually taking you to the theme park. We are going to have a lot of fun.” Natasha throws information out of nowhere, without asking you, giving you any heads up, and taking full control over the situation, and you thought for a split second to get violent with her. How dare she use a little boy's emotions against you? Yes, sure, it's a nice thing to do, but you told them specifically that you don't have too much time, that you have half an hour for them and that's it, that you don't want to be near them or do more than necessary to keep your promise. Which part of that she didn't get? Wanda notices how angry you got after her wife’s idea, and as much as she thinks about resolving this issue, this also might be a good idea to show you that they are not so bad. She kneels down next to you to get to the boys and your eye level, her eyes are soft, apologetic almost.

“It's going to be fun, Yn. You’ll see.” Junior gets excited and follows Natasha to the car, you are right behind them with wanda. How are you supposed to take happiness out of his hands? You are not a monster.

“Cheer up Yn.” Wanda is walking on a very thin line.

“Cheer down Wanda, this is hopefully the last time I have to see you both.” Leaving shocked Wanda behind, you get into the place with Junior on the back and let Natasha decide where to go. Make him happy, and survive. That's all that matters right now. You would give your life for this boy, what's one day, even if it means you staying up all night to catch up with your work, because of course you agreed to take those additional papers for tomorrow. You need money, lots of it, so you need to work… a lot. Just as you were getting nervous about it and your bank account your phone started going off with text messages. One after another, drilling a hole in your calmness. You don't even read them, you decide to call right away and you can't be bothered enough that you are not alone.

“What do you want?” Wanda looks at you worried, but smiles at the little boy to keep him calm.

“No.” Some arguing can be heard through the phone on the other side of the call. Even when you put it on the lowest volume, it's so loud that they can hear.

“You do want me to starve, don't you?... At the end of the week, that's all I have to say to you. Leave me alone.” You finish your call and mute your phone, of course after filing Darcy and Shuri up on what's happening and where are you going. Wanda and Natasha didn't ask, hoping you will explain what the call was about, it didn't sound good.

The rest of the day passed good but horrible slowly. Junior had so much fun, riding with Natasha and playing games with Wanda, or sitting down and eating corn dogs with you. Seeing him happy makes you happy, but the mental load that you are carrying with you is heavy enough that you can't relax or enjoy this for even a second. Going through stuff in your head is a normal thing for you, but at the end of the day, when you're actually sitting down to do what you have to do you feel like you went through the same task five times already. It's simply dreadful, not mentioning the lack of any satisfaction when you are actually done.

Shuri tells you that she is already home, Junior is tired, and you are also so ready to go home. You asked Natasha and Wanda, who were trying so, so, so hard to get to you in any way, that it was irritating at some point, to give T'Challa a ride. Normally you would feel bad about it but it was their idea in the first place.

Shuris home is a little bit outside of the city, not far from the subway thankfully. When Natasha parks her car at the side of the street, you collect your bag and get out of the car. Walking to the other side of it you zip your jacket up, goosebumps all over your body, reminding you physically how cold it is at this time of year. Street lights give off your favorite time of the day vibe, even if it's far till three am. You open the door on the right side and slowly unbuckle Junior from the seat.

“Don’t.” You tell Wanda, seeing her undoing her seatbelt, also to go out and help you. Surprisingly she listens to you. You take the boy into your arms and let him hug you half asleep, you hold him up with your right hand and take his backpack with your left. It's heavier than it looks. Actually they both are, or maybe you are just really tired, it's been a long day. you go to the gate with him and Wanda and Natasha are watching your every move. You ring the bell at the gate and later the main doors are open. Two people go out of the house, the older woman takes the boy from your hands and the younger takes the back pack. Redheads can't hear a thing but they can see you talking with the younger woman.

“I don't know how to thank you. He texted me half way throughout the day, how much he missed you and how much fun he is having.” Shuri is so genuine with you, she always was, pretty tough sometimes, but always real, and you respect that.

“You know I love this boy, he is family.”

“And you are ours Yn. You have always been, and you will always be a part of this family.” These cheesy moments between you two is not something any of you are used to, even when you were together,” i love you” sounded more like a, “bye i see you later”, rather than “my heart is with you every second when we are apart”. Romanticizing your life much? Maybe, but how can you not, when you want to survive in this world, with your heart intact. Shuri hugs you for a goodbye, and gives you a light kiss on the cheek, which does not go unnoticed by your dates.

“I don't like it, Wanda.”

“Would you calm down Nat? You did everything today to push her away, and each moment I've been trying to fix the situation that YOU created, you were shutting me up.” That accusation is shocking for Natasha, and she will not back down from defending herself, even if it's coming from her wife. She almost starts talking again, giving her piece of thoughts on the topic, but she sees you walk away and that takes priority at this second.

“We are going to talk about it at home.” She points her finger at Wanda, her voice sounds like flowing out through clenched teeth, and she is definitely not agreeing with Wanda. She doesn't even point out to her wife what's happening, she just goes out of the car and walks fast after you, Wanda confused but right at her heels.

“And where do you think you’re going?” The force with which you turn around makes Natsaha stop immediately. Your eyes are dark, your jaw is clenched, as well as your fists.

“Natasha, calm down!” Wanda joins you at the side of the road, it's really quiet in this neighborhood, the only sound slicing the silence is the roaring of the car that was left with the engine running. You pinch the bridge of your nose, irritation, exhaustion, this feeling of wasted day get to you, overstretching your patience to the fucking limits. You don’t care, you can’t find in yourself to care, and your promise was fulfilled. You respect and love Carol, but it doesn't mean that you have to feel the same way about her friends.

“What are you, five?” This is definitely not something they expected of you. Even everything they have heard about you, always patient, collected, good, the view in front of them doesn't fit any of this.

“How dare you deciding about my day, my plans, and using feelings of a little boy to get me to do something, just because your fucking ego is bruised?” Natasha makes a step to your direction, bringing her finger up to defend herself and her wife.

“No! I'm not done!” Taken aback she doesn't interrupt you. As horrible Wanda feels about making you feel this way it's really interesting for her to see someone putting her wife into place.

“For the whole day you are talking so much, about wanting to get to know me, getting close to me, but you did absolutely nothing to make me feel comfortable in your presence. When you gave me the ride, seeing the position i was in, i though, just for a second, this can be good, we can try this out, and then…then you took your fucking place and made me feel like i have no say in my life.”

“You are being so dramatic Yn! We gave you and this boy a great day, you should be grateful!” Natasha had enough.

“I have a test tomorrow, an article to edit, and three essays to write, that should be done by now. And no, I don't have a second deadline, I don't have more time, and I will have to stay up all night, without sleep to get everything done on time. In the morning I have work, then a test at university and then my shift at the bar! You thought I had thirty minutes with you for fun? If that means that im being dramatic then fucking yes, I am dramatic!”

“You are working too much.” Wanda comments with this horribly soft voice of her, condescending reasoning, like it's so simple for her, like she can solve all your issues, if you are just willing to give them all control over your life. You scoff at her like she said something funny. Natasha takes out her wallet, and takes out two thousand in cash, you never saw this amount of money in cash, well maybe once when you were working in black.

“Is this enough to buy your time? Your pride? Is that enough for you to get over yourself and let someone take care of you or at least fucking try?” She steps close to you, so close that you feel warmth coming from her body, creating too much of a contrast with the weather, you feel sick. Wanda grabbed her wife's hand, but it wasn't enough to stop her from speaking a couple words too much. You look at the money in Nat’s hand. Couple of papers that would solve your issues for at least two months, something that means nothing to her, that she has too much of, something that would save you. The control that it has over you is not fair, but life isn’t fair, it never was, it never will be, and you are highly aware of it. You look her in the eyes, and you grab at the last bits of your control, pride you have for yourself, those bits of respect that you are trying to save.

“You ignorant fuck, you really dont get any of this do you? Fuck you Natasha.” You leave them and start your long way home, this was a mistake, and you are glad that it's over, finally you can focus on yourself again. All they did since the day you met them is make your life fall apart with every way imaginable. It's good that it's over Yn, you tell yourself and enter the subway, already starting writing your first essay on your phone, the topic power laughing at you, as the universe decided that you are its best comedy.

Next chapter

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