#missmonsters2

[slytherinlesbian3]

when u get this u have to put 5 songs 🎵 u actually listen to, publicly. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)✨

the way this got lost in my notifications bestie. shameful of me. secondly, I'm in the top ten? 🥺🥺 gonna kiss u rn

1. For listening in the car. I scream my lungs out to this one on a daily basis <3

2. Absolutely no shame in this. I listen to both Frozen soundtracks like it's my religion.

3. EVERYONE SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO SHAWN PETER RAUL MENDES' NEWEST SINGLE I M IN LOB W THIS MAN

4. I listen to a lot of soundtracks and this one's my favorite, right next to Outlander's entire track. LOTR has bangers as well:)

5. I listen to this every day on the way to work. Not on the way home, just in the morning. It's 10 minutes of ecstasy 😌

I love you <3 I'm gonna go see if I even ✨have✨ 10 followers to send this to, thinks for thanking of me 🥰💞💞💞

#asks #SOBBING RN ITS BEEN TWO DAYS #missmonsters2 #top 10 fo- 🥺🥺🥺

[readingisloving]

Ongoing

Hermione had stumbled into his life on a rainy afternoon. Not unordinary for July, but she was peculiar. And then Harry stumbled back by falling completely for her.

From the beginning of time, peace cannot exist without a war, and though Harry won his war, he lost Hermione. Since then, Harry has been waiting many lifetimes for her to stumble into his life again.

And when she did, he didn't expect to be fighting another war to keep her again.

#VanderlustWords (MissMonsters2) #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #hermione granger #harry x hermione #mature #hp fic

[mikavlcs]

https://www.tumblr.com/missmonsters2/717611878132629504/oh-lord-please-tell-me-there-will-be-a-third-part?source=share

soooo.... *slides a twenty dollar note over* are you convinced yet? is there anything we can do to convince you so we'll get a happy ending? pretty please? <3 ngl at this point i'm ready to sell my soul and my metaphorical firstborn

there’s nothing you can do to convince me i fear. unhappy endings are just so 💞💖💘 just enjoy the angst!!! 😁👍

(i will take the twenty dollars tho, thank u<3)

#missmonsters2 anons coming here is so funny #SKDHEKDJDK

[marigoldenblooms]

Unica Semper Avis - Chapter 1

Pairing: Cleric!Wanda x Fem!AvianShifter!Reader x MonsterHunter!Natasha

Prompt: Ever since you’ve come of age, you’ve never been able to stop yourself from transforming into a monster. Whenever the sky would dim with a New Moon, you’d ravage the world with a fury unknown by many. Such is the bane existence of your species. This time, however - something was different. Now, you need help. On the feeble doorstep of the so-called ‘Spirit Healer,’ you found yourself both at the mercy of a cleric, and of a monster hunter’s blade. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

MINORS DNI - 18+

TW/General Tags: No mention of Y/N, slow burn, stranger to lovers (Wanda), enemies to lovers (Natasha), eventual smut (lord have mercy), Swearing, Fantasy violence, occasional descriptions of light body horror during transformation, slight self harm, slight restraint, angst, fluff, will add tags as they appear!

Chapter Warnings: Angst, canon-level violence, use of medieval weapons, body horror description in transformation, magic use, slight dissociation/self harm, restraint, fluff (for five seconds), R is a simp, so is W, N is not here to play, etc.

A/N: I’ve been working on this next chapter ever since the previous. Chapter two is coming along quickly as well! I want to keep a bit of a backlog for my longer fics, so updates will be as frequent as I can manage. The name established in this chapter for R will be used sparingly, but I loved what Missmonsters2 did with Between the Lines when I read it months ago, and thought it’d be pertinent until nicknames/pet names are established (and for as long as I can avoid conversation where names are necessary). 

R’s monster form brought to you by bearded vulture inspiration! Feel free to imagine your own version of avian horror to your heart’s content. Enjoy, y’all!

Word Count: 3.1k - Read Length: 11 minutes, 18 seconds. Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners!

~~~  The healer’s home was nothing short of overwhelming. 

Multi-colored knick-knacks were strewn on every surface, perched below gatherings of drying, braided flowers which hung from the rafters. Beneath your feet, woven rugs of alternating sizes dotted the cabin’s cool wooden floors, like islands between a chilled sea of timber. The front door lead further into a sitting room, offering glimpses into a small, quaint looking kitchen, adorned with a single well-worn table and chair. Within that same place, a large pot was held still on the counter by wisps of scarlet magic, another more opaque plume coaxing a wooden spoon to stir whatever was inside. 

Paintings hung along every wall, although you could never get a full glance at one, as though they’d subtly shift and change muses whenever you’d look away. The sound of a shutting door would heighten your senses enough to break from the scenery, turning on your heels to face the home’s owner once again. She’d pry at you with a half-smile, and you’d solidify your gaze at the floor before her eyes could have the chance to meet yours. 

“What brings you to my home?” She’d question evenly, her words a pleasing rasp- smooth molasses which could easily cloud your senses if you allowed her to. You’d see her form move to the side of you in your peripheral, yet you’d remain still, your stare continuing to bore a hole into her carpet. 

Wordlessly, you’d tug at your shawled sleeve to show the back of your arm. Running along the skin’s expanse were thin ridges, pin feathers prickling beneath taut flesh. A light down speckled your skin in odd patches, consolidated mostly on your neck and shoulders for now. Your hair had begun to fleck and grow waxy and silkish, akin to dense ostrich feathers, tousled from your trek to her abode. You’d watch the ground as her shadow would shift around you, a curious tsk showcasing her intrigue.

You wouldn’t see her raised expression, eyebrows furrowed as she’d take your wrist without warning, raising it up so she could see the indentation better in the light. She’d drop your arm as soon as she’d grabbed it, falling limply to your side, and her smooth voice would threaten to carry you off again. “Fascinating..your affliction isn’t something I’ve seen recently.”

“Can you help?” You’d mumble, the few phrases coming to you sounding choked from lack of use, and you could hear the healer’s grunt at your lackluster response. You’d swallow thickly, trying to find the words to explain all that you were, but none arrived. She’d circle around you once more, and before you could flinch away, would capture your chin between her thumb and forefinger, wrenching it to make you look at her- green irises narrowing as you’d shut yours, unwilling to look her in the eye. You’d half expect her grip to be cold like the Matron’s, but her touch’s pleasant warmth was something you almost missed as she’d let go of you, the shuffle of her arms crossing heightened behind your closed eyelids. 

“I can’t help a patient I can’t trust,” She’d muse with a teasing lilt, rolling her r’s in a way that made your chest flutter. Was this another symptom of your molt? It had been a long time since you’d been with another and the thought made your heart ache, albeit not more than your bones. “Why won’t you look at me?”

The scoff that came in response to her was almost too easy, opening your eyes after directing your head to the floor again, “Because I am no threat to you.” “And why would I assume that?” She’d retort immediately, and you’d glare into the ground. Why was talking so easy for her? Why couldn’t she understand that you weren’t like her? You’d raise your arm aloft again, the skin burning now as you’d twist the plumage under your flesh for her view. The rage that had been festering in you for days unlocked a torrent of your words, finally finding purchase in your mouth- frustration evident in how each phrase was ripped from your throat. Your larynx would be useless beyond a breathing tool soon, so you better use it now. Your nails clawed at your arms, doubling into yourself, “Because you are human and I am not, healer- is that not something you’re able to understand-?!” 

“Relax for me-” she’d grit, and you’d feel your stomach plummet at her words. Something in them begged obedience, and for a second you felt as though you were back in your nightmare. You’d twitch, glance immediately circling the ceiling as something would restrain you- thin tendrils of crimson magic, keeping your arms from flaring out at your sides. As if seeing your frustration, your panic, the healer’s sorcery would calm, soothing both your body and your mind into an unnatural lull. “You’re…using-” you’d begin, yet words would evade you once again, no longer fueled by anger. There was only a different feeling- regret, and uncomfortable stone in your stomach that you shied away from, wanting to cower from its weight. You didn’t like yelling at this woman, even as she cradled you with her witchcraft. 

You’d feel her heat again, warm hands placing tentative touches to your shoulders, slowly coaxing your glance to hers. “I’m sorry,” she’d breathe, shallow as you’d feel her palms shake against you, “I didn’t want you… to hurt yourself-” Her irises, blooming with clouds of red, would drain into green as you’d feel her magic loosen around your body like unraveling ropes. You wouldn’t shy away from her this time, panting as her gaze would share her soul with you. She, too, held that stone in her gut. Perhaps she didn’t fear you. 

You’d part as her back would stiffen, adding a few feet between the two of you. “What is your name?” She’d ask, and you saw the way her head tilted since you looked at her face. Your words came easier now that you were less tense, muscles losing their rigidity, and yet you didn’t have an answer for her.  You still pried into her windows, eyes flicking across the expanse of her garden from the view you could get from her living room, but it was a start. “I met your gaze, healer..I’ve done my part, you first.”

You’d see the way her nose crinkled at your response, flecks of mirth illuminating her expression, a grin finding its place there, “Talking now, are we? I’m Wanda.” “I’m..Margo.” In truth, you hadn’t had a name in years, the few decades you’d been alive focused more on survival than memory, especially when your molts made it difficult to discern who you really were- humanoid or avian. You’d forgotten your birth name ages ago, and it was a blessing that your words left your mouth as cleanly as they did. She’d tut at your response, taking it in as satisfactory, “Sure…Margo. Would you like to sit down?” 

Wanda would guide you to her kitchen table without much fanfare, settling you on her single chair. With a focused look and a wave of her hand, however- a duplicate would reveal itself from a cloud of scarlet mist. “Your magic is red?” You’d inquire, tilting your head as you’d seen her do, “It’s a violent color. Why is that?”

“Do you really want to toe that line?” Her phrase were humorous, yet you swear a flash of indignation peppered her visage. You were not going to mess with that line, whatever she meant by that. “No, Wanda.” She smiled at that, her name seemingly pleasing in your mouth. You felt the flutter in your chest again, heart drumming a little faster against your shifting ribcage. If this was a sign of your incoming succession, then you had to finish this fast- to return before you transformed in Wanda’s house. And yet, why was the feeling almost pleasant? 

“You said you haven’t seen my ‘affliction’ in a while,” You’d recount, finding her term for your molt unremarkable. You’d offer her a glimpse of your arm again, hesitating to touch the quills beneath. It was always tender before a lunation, and you didn’t want to aggravate the transformation further, “It doesn’t normally happen so soon. In hours before the new moon, maybe- not over days.” 

“And what happens after those hours?” She’d coax your arm down with a gentle wave, seeing how your movements grew stiff as your skeleton hollowed out. You shrug, “I transform.” Wanda’s expression would sour, yet curiosity prickled underneath. Why did she look at you like that? “Can you help me? You said you're familiar with my kind.” 

“..In truth, I’ve never met someone like you,” She’d murmur, expression bashful, and if the circumstances were different you would’ve taken it as a compliment. Instead, spiked embers of dread seared in your stomach, heart beginning to thrum in your ears. She didn’t know. Could she even help you? Her voice would raise a little louder, “However, if you tell me about yourself, perhaps I could figure it out.” With a twirl of her fingers, two cups of..something floated towards the table. Her gaze was an offer, “Thirsty?”

You’d nod, your throat suddenly dry. The drink was smooth and warm, with a bite of something fresh and crisp. It was much better than your rainwater. Gulping more of it down, you notice how she’d smile at your eagerness, careful not to spill as you’d raise the cup from its saucer. “Cider,” she’d mention, motioning to her mug, “Where are you from?” “My cavern is far from here. About half a day’s walk.” Wanda’s eyebrows would raise. “Cavern? You live in a cave?” Her interest was a delight, and you wanted to keep it for as long as you could. You didn’t answer her question, instead throwing one back at her, “Why do you live far from your town?”

“Bellmoor?” Amusement would blanket Wanda’s expression, snorting as she’d shake her head, twisting in her chair so she could lean forward towards you, “Because I like my peace and quiet. I assume the same for you, Птичка?” 

“What does that mean?” You’d ask, and she’d tut again. “Now now, that can be your next question, but it’s my turn.” She’d scrunch her nose at your grumbling acquiesce, and you couldn’t help but smile with her. You liked this game. Wanda rested her hands on her table, and your eyes were caught on the shimmer of her rings as she’d speak, “Can you control your transformation?” That one was easy. “Fuckin’ wish I could...” Wanda’s brows would reach her hairline at your curse, but you wouldn’t give her time to comment as yours would stream from your maw, though it’d stop early, “No Aegypius can. What does..”

“‘Птичка’ mean?” She’d grin, rasping her knuckles on the wooden grain at each syllable, “Little bird, birdie, you have feathers underneath your skin, yes?” You’d send her a taunting look, one that she met in equal measure. You’d smile back at her, “Is that your question?” 

Wanda would balk, gotten so caught up in teasing you that her words just tumbled out with no direction. You’d see her cheeks grow pink, clearing her throat with a stuttered breath, and you swear she felt like you did when you felt that flutter. “No, it isn’t-” She’d respond smoothly, but you caught how her eyes shimmered, and you took another sip of cider. You knew why when her words made your mind double-take, “Would you like to stay with me tonight?”

You almost spit out your drink, coughing on it as you’d sputter, blush alighting your face. You felt it warm and you tried to hide it away, your flustered reaction seemingly pleasing Wanda. She certainly didn’t know what that meant to you, “I..you want me to stay with you- I’m going to molt tonight, Wanda.” 

“And if I am to help your transformation, then I must see it in person,” She’d respond, never losing her smile. It soothed you, that richness in her tone and that calm in her expression, and you’d feel a new pull in your heart. One you hated.

Your instincts wanted you to ruin her. Wanted her vulnerable as she was, to splinter her bones into shards you didn’t even have to chew. 

To take advantage of her weakness, your hunger eating you alive unless you picked her clean, consumed-

You’d swallow, a shaky breath leaving you. Wanda had blinked, and your voice acted quicker than your mind would comprehend, “I don’t want it helped, Wanda. I want it gone.” You’d feel your skin itch at that, and a cold dread filled your gut, like the Matron’s chill held you once again. Your words were a whisper. “But I don’t think my body will let me.” 

“All the more reason for you to stay. Do you have anything that helps you calm down?” She’d ask, leaning forward with a gentle lilt. Her hand would’ve come across the table, offering her palm to yours. It was calloused, warm skin juxtaposed with smooth metal, and you took it in yours gratefully. You were starting to really like her company. 

------------------------------------------

The hours would’ve floated by you, a subtle bliss filling you as you and Wanda would’ve enjoyed the rest of your evening together. You could feel your body shift by the hour, and yet a part of you didn’t care if you were with her. You’d show her your chains, mentioning their unknown inscription and how they’d keep your form….distracted. You would be kept in the barn once the moonless night had begun, the sky within a period of tranquil dusk. She ghosted her hand across the rim of your shackles, and you were surprised they didn’t burn her like they did you. An Aegypius trait, you supposed. 

Wanda had made you stew using that pot from earlier, while you hovered in the vicinity, chopping up carrot and onion into more manageable pieces. The meal was finished after it had boiled for a long time, and it was only when you sat down to enjoy it with her that a blink of movement would catch your eye. The bay windows curved in a beautiful shape that let the last vestiges of light in, and you’d register the sight of silver metal piercing into the glass before you heard it smash. 

A figure leapt through its shattered remains, thick cloak blanketing their form to protect them from the glass. Their armor and longsword was polished beautifully, and they would be regal if it wasn’t for their war shout and barred teeth. You could see their face beneath their hood, just before the glint of their weapon as it’d slice down towards your chest. 

You’d dodge, rushing backwards until your back hit the other end of the wall. As the longsword would finish its downward arc, Wanda’s magic would cradle its blade, her hands outstretched and bent as if trying to push it up. Her voice was strangled and thin, heard between the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears, “run, Margo- go!” 

Turning to bolt, you’d hear the clatter of boots against wood as a rougher hand would grab you by the scruff of your neck. Writhing in their hold, you’d shove your elbow into the ribs of your attacker, before grabbing their hand from your nape to sink your teeth into it. “Fuck, you гриф-” The knight’s heavy breath was audible from behind your back. You’d bite harder, feeling their skin break beneath your jaw as you’d thrash, trying to cleave flesh off. They’d tear their hand from you, kicking your legs with a force that sent you barreling down. 

Your head would hit the hardwood floor, and you could hear the ringing in your ears as you’d look up, vision swimming as everything looked double. Your hooded attacker brandished their longsword with two hands above you, although it looked like they had four. Before they could stab the blade downward, Wanda’s hand would lurch out to their neck- pressing the kitchen knife into their throat as her other palm would scratch towards the knight’s eyes, the pair barreling backwards which left you an outside view that made your pupils retract into pinpricks. 

The sky was dark, illuminated with bright swaths of stars. Tears pricked at your eyes. The few treetops you saw couldn’t even reach its height, blanketing the world in an awaiting gloom. You knew the moon was out there, but you couldn’t see it. Your mind reeled, thoughts growing famished as you’d stare into its expanse. You licked your lips. The sky offered you reprieve, and who were you to deny its feast?

The wheezing pop of bone into stronger sockets would startle Wanda and her assailant into a tense standoff, your witch pinning the stranger to the floorboards while the knight tried in vain to grasp at their longsword that had been kicked many feet away. Your breath heaved with strength you hadn’t felt before, seizing as the voice that came from you was no more than a guttural hiss. Your skull would reshape, mouth widening into a curved beak, hooking into serrated edges, while your skull would become angular, bird like. Anything but human, you were no longer recognizable. Feathers would blanket the creature’s shifting musculature, tearing from roughened skin as they’d fan into shape. Its arms and legs grow as its fingers would lengthen, bat-like wings creaking before they’d be covered in plumage; ivory white on it’s neck and shoulders, cascading into darker blacks and blues elsewhere. The monster’s feathers wouldn’t remain unpigmented for long, as they’d begin to warm on its skin- sparks flying from where they touched, growing into a burnt umber. The beast would groan as its wings crashed to the floor- bipedalism was no longer an option, the force cracking the wooden boards. Horns would thunder from shaking its monstrous head, the beast’s eyes blinking into pale gold with a crimson ring surrounding them. A black line of feathers ran down the side of its face and to its gaping maw, tufted at its chin. Its feathers had heated into shades of orange, flecked with flame- while cyan speckled where its temperature had reached an apex.

Silence would still the room, the shaky inhale of breath marking the presence of living beings in it’s fray. The demon would blink again, a gnashing sound emanating from inside its cavernous beak. It’d then raise itself on its haunches, spread its twelve meter wingspan (shattering the walls in its wake), and echo a deafening, reverberating call into the night. 

The hunt had truly begun. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

~~~

#minors dni #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wandanat #wandanat smut #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda smut #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha smut #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #fantasy au #enemies to lovers #strangers to lovers #bearrrwrites

[missmonsters2]

—MONACHOPSIS | TWO

Pairing:Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: Wednesday has never cared about belonging somewhere. She does her own thing unapologetically. Yet, you’re over there, and she’s over here. It’s the first time she’s ever felt out of place.

Warnings: Jealous!Wednesday. Wednesday generally being Bad At Feelings™️. Enid enjoying it too much. Thing, the betrayer. Wednesday hating on Xavier, as per usual.

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3: Missmonsters2

Reminder there’s no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: I really enjoyed writing this one. Soft 🥺

Part One

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Monachopsis: Noun. The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There are very few things that make Wednesday Addams uncomfortable. She will certainly never let anyone know her full list, but there’s no hiding this one. Wednesday isn’t even sure what’s making her uncomfortable. 

It’s not the fact that she’s at a party held in the Siren’s common room. A part of her regrets letting Enid drag her to this, especially since the blonde left her almost immediately when she spotted her stoner boyfriend. But another part of her is thrilled by being here—because of you.

It’s slightly difficult to see you across. This party is not like the Rave'N Dance, chaperoned by adults and modest dancing. 

No. 

The lack of adults watching makes this a party of hormonal teenagers cramped in one space with dark lighting. The obligatory distance between people as they dance disappears, bodies grinding up on each other as the music plays so loud, Wednesday can feel the bass on her skin. 

So, it’s a little hard to see you across the room.

Wednesday clenches her jaw, her mind betraying her as she unwillingly wonders if she’s uncomfortable watching the sea of bodies—her peers—grinding up on each other or if it’s because you’re on the other side of the room, nowhere near her as you lean against the wall with a red solo cup in hand and talking to Bianca.

Even though you’re not following the masses in dancing, you look so mellow as you rest against the wall. You look like you belong. 

It’s too far, Wednesday distantly thinks.

You’re over there, and she’s over here. 

And for someone like Wednesday, who has never singularly cared about belonging anywhere, she feels—out of place. 

“Wednesday!" 

Arms wrap around her before she can move out of the way. It’s disheartening she’s so distracted, so clumsy, that Enid can ambush her.

"Enid,” Wednesday grouses, her brows furrowing as she tenses up but allows it in the end. 

“Sorry,” Enid pulls back, looking only slightly sheepish. “It’s just all so exciting! Why aren’t you joining in on the fun?”

Wednesday’s eyes peer past Enid’s shoulder to the mass of bodies. She can smell the sweat and practically feel the grime. “That’s torture,” Her eyes move back to Enid’s smiling face. “And not the kind I like.”

Enid doesn’t say anything; her eyes move to the side where the punch bowl is, and her boyfriend is getting her a drink of Yoko’s specialty virgin mix. His gaze finds her, and she waves at him as he gives her a warm smile. 

“I think,” Enid starts to say as her boyfriend returns to his task. “There’s something else you could do you might find fun.”

Enid is staring in the same direction as Wednesday, but she doesn’t acknowledge it. In the same line of vision, Xavier is sitting on the couch by his lonesome, looking broody as usual. 

“Keeping Xavier company isn’t my idea of fun either,” Wednesday dispassionately replies. 

“Not that!” Enid exasperatedly replies. “Go talk to Maleficent.”

“I see you’re struggling to find a new moniker.”

“It’s better than Xavier’s,” Enid mutters. “Besides, it’s not like we’re limited on tries. You’ve yet to come up with anything at all.”

Wednesday doesn’t reply to the comment. It’s not necessarily true, but everything she’s thought could be possible is strangely too…intimate. If she did inherit her father’s nicknaming skills, she cursed him for it. Of course, that skill would be limited to coming up with pet names. 

“Anyway, stop stalling,” Enid chastises. “Go save her from Bianca.”

“What makes you think she needs saving?” Wednesday’s eyes travel to your form again. You look perfectly content with whatever drivel Bianca is subjecting you to. 

Wednesday tries to keep her irritation in check. Bianca has been much more bearable since they saved the school, but the feeling of self-pity and rage plague her whenever she loses to Bianca still. 

Bianca looks over, smirking at Wednesday before she turns back to you. 

Wednesday is being plagued right now. 

Then, you’re looking at her. Your eyes look darker than usual in the oscillating lights. But still, as always, you smile sincerely but unintrusively at her. You give her a short wave before you turn back to Bianca. 

Something abnormal flares inside Wednesday’s stomach. Is she sick? Were her eyes being subjected to too many colors, and this was the reaction?

“Enid,” Wednesday calls her friend’s name with no inflection in her tone despite how uncomfortable she feels. “I’m unwell and not in the pleasant way. I’m going back to our room.”

“Oh no!” Enid immediately frowns, concerned for her friend, as she turns to face Wednesday fully. “What’s wrong? Are you catching a cold?”

“My intestines feel like they’re being wrung and twisted,” Wednesday reveals and then thoughtfully says, “It’s not as enjoyable as I thought it ’d be.”

“Why would you enjoy—never mind,” Enid sighs. “Was it something you ate or drank?”

“I eat the same thing as I do everyday,” Wednesday shakes her head. 

Enid hums as she trails Wednesday’s line of sight. Her eyes haven’t left your form once. 

“Did it come on suddenly?”

“Yes.”

“Is it still there?”

“Yes.”

“Is it better or worse?”

“Getting worse.”

Enid gently places her hands on Wednesday, being sure to move slowly, as Wednesday was still averse to having people touch her. Now, Wednesday was forced to look at her. 

“How about now?”

Wednesday doesn’t answer right away. Her eyes gaze down in thought before she looks back at Enid. “Interesting, Enid. It’s subsiding. Where did you learn this?”

Enid merely grins as she turns Wednesday back to her previous position. You were laughing at something Bianca was saying, and the way your head tilted back exposed the smoothness of your neck. If she strains her ears, Wednesday could probably even hear that melodic sound.

“How about now?”

“Enid,” Wednesday glares, the unpleasant feeling coming back immediately.

“Ah, well,” Enid releases her hands and places them behind her back. “Well, from my expert opinion, you’re not physically unwell. You have something called the butterflies!” Enid squeals. 

“Butterflies?” Wednesday repeats with a frown. 

“You know,” Enid grins. “The feeling you get in your stomach when you’re nervous or excited.”

“One, I’m never nervous,” Wednesday raises her brow. “Two, the only time I’m excited is when I’m winning, and others are suffering.” Wednesday’s eyes scan the room. “And the only one suffering here is Xavier and even that is merely amusing but not exciting.”

“Ah, well,” Enid smirks. “I guess you can add Faerie Berry to the list of things that excite you then.”

“That’s even worse than Maleficent,” Wednesday vacantly replies. 

“Ugh, shut up!” Enid scrunches her nose. “Just…just go talk to her!”

But Wednesday refuses. She already feels out of place, and you’re distracting her to the point where she can’t recognize the roar of her surroundings. 

Besides, the gruesome butterflies Enid so kindly (smugly) described to her was bound to worsen in your proximity. 

“I’m going back to the room,” Wednesday declares with finality. She doesn’t wait for Enid to try to convince her otherwise, turning on her heels and briskly walking away. 

The silence in her room loosens the tension in her shoulders, and she lets out a tiny puff of air. Wednesday changes her clothes, contemplating another night of playing the cello.

“Thing?” Wednesday calls out. It’d be useful if he could turn the sheets for her. But only silence answers her back. “Thing, you better not be hiding in Enid’s silk sheets again. You know it scares her if it’s unexpected and I won’t save you this time if she tries to throw you out the window.”

Wednesday takes a deep breath when she realizes that Thing isn’t in the room with her. Thing has been leaving and returning to the room at odd hours lately, and while she’s usually uninterested in what Thing is up to, she’s learned that he’s generally up to mischief that Wednesday ends up paying for.

Turning back on her heel, she leaves her room quietly and begins looking down the halls. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“I’m going to rip your nails out when I find you, Thing,” Wednesday pledges with quiet rage. She’s searched nearly everywhere and has yet to find any inkling of where he might be. She just finished checking the nurse’s office because Thing sometimes came in here to steal lotion.

Just as Wednesday’s about to go back to her room and see if Thing has already returned, something catches her eye at the corner. She carefully peers out the window and sees you stepping outside. You carefully look behind you, running your hand through your hair delicately before you walk off toward the forest.

Strange, Wednesday thought. She got a text from Enid that the party was still going on just minutes ago, and her roommate might not return for the night. Were you stepping out to get fresh air? Or were you meeting with someone? 

It doesn’t take Wednesday long to decide to follow after you. Her morbid sense of curiosity has won over, and quite frankly, following someone while at Nevermore has never failed to bring her something interesting. 

Wednesday takes her time; her footsteps light as she has to be careful when following you. Faeries have a keen sixth sense as you stop multiple times and turn around with a tilt of your head. She reminds herself that she’ll need to tell you that you need to listen to your instincts better.

Eventually, you stop in front of a tree. It’s as nondescript as it gets, blending in with other trees and the background. But you walk around it clockwise 2 times, then counterclockwise once before knocking on the truck 3 times before walking around the trunk clockwise. Wednesday expects to see you as you turn, but you don’t. 

Wednesday’s eyes gleam with interest as she steps out from the shadow and repeats exactly what you did. The scenery changes as she walks around the trunk clockwise the final time. For a moment, Wednesday thinks she’s having a vision, except it doesn’t jolt and incapacitate her like she’s touching livewire. 

The space before her has transformed into something Wednesday can’t quite describe. The air outside had been cool with the night taking over, but despite how it’s nighttime here as well, the air mimics the afternoon air of autumn. The fireflies are the only things that keep the place from total darkness other than the moon.

That’s all the time Wednesday has to take in her surroundings because something else captures her eyes, and she’s powerless to tear them away. 

You were sitting on the ground near a clear pond, and while the usual sight of you does ensnare Wednesday—this was different.

Obsidian wings hung from your back, initially held up as they fluttered before they dropped into a relaxed stance, the ends resting on the grass. 

And resting between your shoulder blades was—

Wednesday narrows her eyes.

Thing.

The way Thing jolted when he saw her jerked you into turning your head around. Shock was the first emotion to cross your face before you frowned, your wings tensing as they curled themselves around you protectively. 

You have never frowned at her before, and the sight of it curdles wretchedly in Wednesday’s stomach. 

“What is this place?” Wednesday asks, her curiosity winning over guilt.

“It’s like a studio…” you answer slowly. “Principal Weems let me have a private area created by fae magic. You can only pass through the veil by a sequence of actions.”

Wednesday nods, and then it’s silent again.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” Wednesday finds herself saying, her face remaining blank to not betray how she feels. 

“Did you follow me?” You ask warily. 

Wednesday swallows. “I was—looking for Thing.”

You look at the hand on your shoulder as if you’re having some kind of silent conversation.

“Well,” Wednesday jerkily says. “Now that I see Thing is fine, I’ll go. I won’t speak about this matter.”

Just as Wednesday turns to leave, she hears your quick, but soft voice.

“No, it’s okay. You can stay…if you want.”

Wednesday turns back and feels a weird relief to see your wings have unfurled themselves from you back into their relaxed manner. You nod your head to take a seat next to you. It takes only a few strides to meet you, but as she sits down, Wednesday feels—out of place. Like she’s intruding on you and Thing.

Thing—that betrayer. 

Has he been sneaking out every night to see you? He very well knew that you were the object of her—curiosity.

And he’s been completely signless about you. 

“Sorry,” you say quietly. “I’m just not…” you sigh. “I get weird about people seeing my wings.”

“Why?” Wednesday deadpans as she stares out into the pond. “They’re a sight to behold. No shame in that.”

You give her a small smile but shake your head. “What do you know about faeries?”

“Very little, considering there are few books about your kind, and Weems seems unwilling to share anything except for the fact you don’t have anything like a siren’s song.”

“Why do you think I have something like a siren’s song?” You ask with a raise of your brow. 

Wednesday doesn’t answer.

You don’t seem offended by her lack of answer, merely chuckling as you pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around them. “The reason faeries are so recluse is because many of us have been hunted down for our wings.”

Wednesday turns her head to look at you, but you don’t meet her eyes. “Do your wings have magical properties?”

You nod. It’s quiet for a moment, and you seem hesitant by how your brows furrow before they relax. “If you can cut out both of a faerie’s wings, it can be used in a ritual to grant you one wish.”

Wednesday raises a brow, skeptical. “Any wish?”

You nod. “You’d be surprised how many of my kind have been slain for their wings used for depravity and then slain again to reverse the depravity done.”

But Wednesday’s face remains impassive since the idea that people are wretched and depraved doesn’t surprise her. 

“And what happens to the faeries that have their wings taken?" 

"They typically die,” you deadpan. “Faeries can’t survive without their wings.”

Silence falls over them again but only for a brief moment.

“Why did you tell me?” Wednesday asks, her eyes watching your face to catch any movement that would expose the truth. This was too important to reveal and left you vulnerable if Wednesday was interested in your wings. 

You turn to her, eyes trailing Wednesday’s face in the same studious manner. It’s strange how you can do something that is meant to be intrusive yet do it so unintrusively. 

“I think,” you say slowly, licking your lips to wet them, “you have no desire for your wishes to be granted in such a manner. It wouldn’t be satisfying for you.”

You look away, staring at the pond while Wednesday is left with the words to settle over her. 

“You are correct,” Wednesday nods. “I have no need for your wings. Anything I want, I can achieve by my own means.”

There’s a small upward quirk of your lips, and Wednesday’s stomach is being wrung and twisted again. She shuts out Enid’s accursed words.

“Why are you out here with Thing?” Wednesday’s eyes trail to Thing in an accusatory manner. 

You sit up straighter, turning your head to look at Thing on your shoulder. He taps his index finger on you impatiently, and you laugh lightly. Pulling out a small container and opening it, revealing some kind of salve inside, Thing applies a decent amount on his finger and crawls carefully over to your back. 

You adjust, moving to sit so that your wings face Wednesday, and she can see what Thing is doing. 

“Thing helps me apply medicine daily.” Your wings flutter slightly as Thing uses his middle finger to push away some of your feathers, and Wednesday catches what the medicine is for. 

There’s a deep, angry gash underneath your feathers. They don’t necessarily look fresh, but Wednesday can tell they’re slow to heal. The cut is long, disappearing under your feathers from view. It was clear you were earthbound and would be until the cut healed.

Thing applies the medicine gently and slowly, and Wednesday watches as your wings tense and quiver—in pain, Wednesday assumes. 

“I met Thing about two weeks ago in the infirmary late at night,” you reveal. “Previously, I would have to see the nurse every day to have this done. They make special provisions for me at night so as to not draw attention.”

Then, you were chuckling. “But I caught Thing trying to steal some of the special lotion the nurse keeps locked in the cabinets.”

The five-finger discount, Wednesday drawls in her mind. 

“I was a little surprised about a sentient hand walking around, but he’s quite sweet and it’s better than having the nurse pitying looks.”

Wednesday thinks you would’ve shrugged but refrained to avoid jostling Thing as he worked his way down and then to your other wing.

“Thing is happy to help for some dew drops—which is like magical faerie lotion. Very hydrating and makes your skin glowy.”

“Thing is very vain,” Wednesday dryly notes, and you laugh, despite a tiny jerk in your wings as Thing gets to a particularly tender area.

“What happened to your wings?” Wednesday asks, unabashed about it, as she’s never been afraid of the hard things. If you don’t answer, you simply don’t, and Wednesday won’t take offense. 

Thing finishes applying the medicine, dropping back onto the ground as you turn to face Wednesday. She watches as you wave your hand over a patch of grass, its moisture forming into visible drops of dew before they glow faintly and drop onto Thing. 

His skin does look shinier and glassy, Wednesday reluctantly admits. At the very least, she understands why Thing was keeping quiet about you. He seems to be rallying for his forgiveness as he scuddles to Wednesday to rest on her shoulder, bumping his knuckles against her jaw gently. 

Wednesday, though, isn’t in a forgiving mood. Especially when you look up at her with a melancholy smile. 

“While it’s true I’m weird about people seeing my wings because they’re hunted down, it’s also because I’m not fond of them either,” you tell her. “Night faeries are extremely rare. They’re different from the way they look to the powers they hold, and many of my kind believe they’re wretched beings—destined to bring calamity.”

Your wings expand as far as they can without inducing pain, and Wednesday doesn’t understand how there can be something so bewitching as your magnificent wings. 

But you clearly don’t see them that way.

“Black wings are the mark of a night faerie.”

PART THREE

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x ofc #wednesday x ofc #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #mm: my fics

[rebeliz7]

AUGUST - PART ONE

August 1/3

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader 

Warnings: Pinning - Cheating

Special thanks to Van (aka @missmonsters2) for helping me by editing this, all 3 chapters.

…

July, 27th

A high-rank order arrives at the Tower early in the morning, which is code for the White House, which is code for 'you're not directly involved.' 

You understand the hierarchy of the job, and you accept it. The only Avengers who are allowed to communicate with the President are Steve and Natasha, even if the rest of you provide backup if needed. 

The missions from the Oval office are usually dangerous and, more often than not, quite complicated. A part of you is a little relieved that you get to stay at home and 'hold the fort,’ while Steve and Natasha have to pack their bags to go somewhere that you're not allowed to know. 

Steve hugs you goodbye, and you melt in his arms, if only for a second. He's your boss, technically, but he's also the closest thing you have to family, and although you're not ready to say it out loud, you care about him. 

"We'll be back before you know it. Try not to give Tony an aneurysm." He laughs, and you push him towards the jet in jest. 

"He and I have our own thing going on, don't be jealous." You smile back, and the look in his eyes almost makes you run back into his arms, but he nods his head once in your direction, and then he's walking towards the jet. 

As if things couldn't get any worse for you, you have to watch Wanda kiss her wife goodbye too. You look away quickly, not wanting to have that image engraved in your mind. 

What you feel for Wanda is - complicated. You think she knows, but she's also a married woman, and neither one of you will ever acknowledge whatever it is that you feel because everyone knows that she's head over heels for Natasha. 

"Hey, you don't have to worry." Natasha's voice pulls you back, and you realize that Wanda is saying goodbye to Steve by the jet now. "I have his back."

"I know," you say, and Natasha takes your hand. 

"I know you don't like this any more than we do," she says, and you swallow with difficulty. They have a mission, and you accept it. There's nothing you can do to stop them from going. You know what this job entails. 

What's eating at you is the fact that this might be very well goodbye for good, and none of you know it.

The thought always passes your mind whenever one of you leaves on a new mission.  

"We'll be back before you know it." She winks at you, and you smile back; she's your oldest friend, and you've never said it out loud either, but you care for her—deeply. 

"Take care out there," you tell her out of habit. 

"We will. Take care of her for me, would you?" She looks back at her wife, and you look at Wanda hugging Steve. "She might worry."

"I've got her."

"Pay close attention to Daisy. She shows promise."

"I've noticed, and I will."

…

July, 28th

The world seems at peace. There are no trying thugs with supernatural abilities on the streets, no arms dealers selling guns to maniacs. The Avengers are not needed, and when noon comes around, you realize that this could very well be your first day off at the Compound. 

Things have been a bit hectic since you joined the infamous team of heroes a couple of years ago, and for the life of you, you can't remember a single day off since the day you joined. 

Before Natasha practically dragged you into this Compound, your life was not a peaceful one, and you've never had a full day to yourself, but that changes today. 

Today you stay on your floor and order pizza for lunch, and you sit through an entire season of Modern Family on Netflix while you finish the beers on your fridge. 

When the sun finally goes down, you notice how tired you are of not doing anything, but you're smiling, and this has officially been your day, only yours, and you'll always remember that. 

July 28th, you will always remember this day. 

… 

July, 31st

Tony is worried, and Wanda is pacing the meeting lounge. 

Natasha sent in an encrypted message a few minutes ago. Their mission got a lot more complicated than they were expecting, not that it surprises you. 

They'll have to be away for longer than they originally planned. 

"Can you reach them?" Tony asks you, and Wanda turns to look at you with hope in her eyes. 

Natasha sent the message through a radio line only you know of, she wanted it to be a one-way type of message, and you know she'd check but only to make sure that you didn't answer. 

"Well, yeah but -"

"Nat wouldn't want that," Wanda says, and you watch her take in a deep breath as if to gather herself. You can practically smell her worry by now. 

"You don't look worried, or surprised." Tony assesses you, and you shrug lightly. 

"Don't you watch the news, grandpa?" You ask him in jest, and he rolls his eyes at you. "The President is not very subtle about the places he decides to bomb. Nat and Steve are probably behind a defector, who must be surrounded by security detail 24/7."

"How do you know all this?" Wanda asks, and you shrug lightly again before sitting on the table. 

"I don't. I'm just taking a wild guess here. The order came from the White House, right?"

"It sounds like something that Stark Satellites could have helped with," Tony mutters, completely blindsided by your question. 

"Don't be like that, Starboy." You smile when he glares at you. "Your satellites leave traces behind."

They both take a moment to think about what you just said, and you remain quiet while they process. 

Once they do, Wanda goes back to pacing, although slower than before, and when she meets your stare, you smile at her, however small. You told Natasha you'd look out for her, and you don't know exactly how to do that. 

"How long do you think they'll be gone?" She asks you. "Are they safe? Why would the President send them in for this?"

"I'm just taking a guess here, but if this is actually what's happening then it could take a month or two."

"Two months?" Tony asks. 

"Well, they'll have to blend in and Natasha won't take any chances. Meaning, she'll go all out. Surveillance, tracking, making contact, studying the perimeter, making contact again, befriending someone on the inside, befriending a lot of people on the outside, looking for alternatives, setting up a trap in case they have to resort to it, plan for escape routes. Several escape routes."

"Sounds easy," Tony says with his usual bite, and you sigh as Wanda takes a deep breath. 

"Hey." You call her, and she looks at you with worry etched on her face. "Natasha is the person for a job like that, and I'm just taking a wild guess here."

"You were right the last time." She points out. 

"A Governor got killed and it was all over the news. That one was easy to guess." You smile until she shakes her head and lets out a breath. 

"If anyone can handle something like this, it’s Natasha," Tony says. "She'll bring back Rogers. He's lucky she's with him."

"That, he is."

… 

August, 1st

Sam and Bucky arrive from their mission early in the morning. They've been gone for almost an entire month, and by the sore look on Bucky's face, they don't come with good news. 

Blake continues to slip through their fingers, and Bucky continues to shut you down when you try to lend a hand. Blake, a Russian lowlife that tortured Bucky on more than one occasion under Hydra's command, has proven himself a hard one to catch. 

You get it, you understand why Bucky wants to be the one who catches him, but it's obvious that the guy knows Bucky well enough to always keep himself one step ahead of him. You'd know. 

You leave the debriefing room when Sam and Bucky begin bickering, knowing that they won't stop for a while. They're an odd pair, but they get each other.  

You go about your day with as much normalcy as if the Captain and Natasha were here. You run the drills for the new recruits, and you pay special attention to the girl Natasha believes has the potential to be something more. You make sure to run her a bit harder than the rest, just like Natasha has been doing. 

You have to agree with her; Daisy does seem like the kind of girl that belongs in the field. 

You check in with Rhodey and make a round of calls to the Agents around the US. Things are calm, which means someone is cooking something big, and logically, everyone is beginning to go nuts. 

You go about your day. Whatever comes your way, you'll deal with it when it gets here. There's no point in worrying about things that are not in your control. 

"Want some?" Wanda asks when you enter the kitchen, and she's serving sauce on top of pasta on a plate. You were coming to fix yourself something as well, but the moment you smell the air, a smile forms on your face. 

"Is this your famous pasta and sauce I'm smelling?" You ask back as you hand her another plate, and she smiles. 

"You guys are easy to please," she says as she puts the sauce on top of the pasta, and you get a whiff of the delicious aroma of her cooking up close, and you moan to yourself. 

"Or maybe you're just an amazing cook," you tell her, and her smile turns a bit bashful. 

You take the two plates to the table as she picks up a bottle of red wine and two glasses from the shelf. 

It's been a few days, and you haven't exactly kept an eye on her like Natasha asked you to do when she left, but Wanda seems perfectly fine. You caught sight of her in the morning as she tried to go about her day with as much normalcy as you were. 

If it were a regular mission, everyone would still be tense, but it'll be 'normal.'  The job comes with high-level risks, and you all live in danger on a daily basis, even now while you sit across from Wanda, the both of you aren't completely safe. 

A mission from the White House means there are no official records because that's why their preferred agent to go to is Natasha, and you all know what that entails if things were to go south. 

She was a KGB Agent. She was an enemy of the state long before she was an ally, the Black Widow can always turn the tables, or at least that's the narrative the President would use if it came down to it. 

As it is, though, Rhodey was anxious when you talked to him earlier. His tone clipped in every word that he spoke. There's no doubt that he knows exactly the nature of the mission, but you know better than to ask questions that won't be answered. 

Sam and Bucky are doing exactly what they do when they're worried, which is to retreat to their military ways. Sam took over you in the drills, and Bucky oversaw the sparring exercises with the rest of the recruits. 

Tony has been locked in his lab since Nat and Steve left, only coming out for food and attending the necessary meetings, nothing more. Wanda cooks, she cooks a lot when she doesn't know what else to do, and you're trying to keep on going as normal as you can. 

"Be honest with me," she says as you pick up a fork and she pours the wine in the glasses, and you look up to see her face. "You think they're alright?"

The moment her eyes meet yours, you remember the exact reason why you make a habit out of avoiding spending too much time with her. It's unfair, really, the power she holds over you without even knowing. 

"You worry too much." You deflect as you take your glass and sip the wine. 

"That's what she always says." She frowns, and suddenly, the mouthwatering smell of her cooking doesn't seem so appetizing anymore.  

"We would know if things went wrong. Isn't that the whole point of sending them both in? The russian spy and the golden boy aren't exactly subtle news."

She purses her lips in anger at your Government and how manipulative they are, but the worrisome in her eyes is undeniable. 

"You asked me to be honest."

"I did." Her accent comes out sounding harsh and cutting in her bothered state, and an idea occurs to you. 

"Look, I know I can't ask you not to worry or even lie to you and say that things will be alright because that's a prayer more than a fact in our line of work. But I can be here with you, and I can try to keep your mind off of it if you'd like."

She looks at you as if analyzing you and you let her even though her eyes are made of the most beautiful color, and you're positively distracted by her whole face. 

"She asked you to look out for me, didn't she?" She asks, and you smile, although the color of her eyes continues to distract you.

"Can you blame her? You really do worry too much."

"And you don't seem to worry at all."

Her words catch you by surprise, although her tone remains kind when she speaks, meaning she's only curious and not upset, at least not with you.

"What's the point in worrying about something that you can't control?" You counter her question with one of your own, and she looks away, finally picking up her glass of wine, drinking a generous sip from it before meeting your stare again.

"What's the point in deed? Let's eat, this sauce is no good cold."

Her cooking is, as always, splendid, and you spend the rest of dinner talking about your inability to boil water.

By the time you're picking up the dishes, you realize that you're having fun, and conversation with Wanda is not as terrifying as you once thought it could be.

…

August 2nd

You wake up to find Fury sitting on the small couch you keep in your room, and you almost have a heart attack.

"You sleep like a baby," he says. "Like a drugged baby."

"You have a mission for me? Please, tell me there's a mission and you weren't just being a creep."

"There's a mission," he says as he hands you a black folder. You take the folder from his hand as you sit upon your bed and rub the sleep off your face.

"Son of a bitch." You gasp the moment you see the first page.

Hudson, Fury found Hudson.

"I thought you'd like that," he says as he stands up. "Just wanted to see the look on your face when you saw it."

"I'm running this." You tell him, and it's not a question, but he still nods as you stand up as well.

"Of course you are. You thought I was just gonna come here and give you that folder for nothing? Come on! You have ten minutes to prep."

Ten minutes later, you're geared up and ready to go, and Fury is waiting for you in the hanger next to Bucky and Wanda.

"We need him alive," Fury says the moment you're close enough, and you're already nodding. "This is no joke. The only reason why I'm giving you this is because I'm a man of my word."

"I know." You nod again, and he pins you down with a hard glare.

"Alive." He enunciates right in your face, and you roll your eyes. "However, you use whatever means to capture him. What happens in the field -"

"- stays in the field." The three of you finish for him, and he hums to himself, all the while pinning you with a glare.

"We got this," you tell him as Bucky boards the jet, and Wanda laughs to herself as she follows him.

"You better." Fury declares, and with that, you follow your teammates.

…

Hudson has slipped through your fingers more times than you're willing to admit out loud at this point, so you keep that to yourself as you explain to Bucky and Wanda who Hudson is.

"So he's your friend?" Wanda asks, and you're tempted to groan, but the confused look on her face is way too much for you to handle, so you look away quickly.

"Was. He was my friend." You correct her, and they're not subtle at all when they exchange a look.

"Spill," Bucky says.

"I just did. He and I were partners, he abandoned me when we retrieved an expensive object from the Caribians and I haven't seen him since."

"I get the feeling that you're oversimplifying things for us," Wanda says, and her accent makes you want to smile. It doesn't come out that often anymore, but it leaves you feeling like this when it does.

You can't like her accent this much; it's unhealthy.

"I trusted the guy." You admit without looking at either one of them. "I trusted him and he left me in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by enemies because of money."

"Wait," Bucky says, but you don't look at him. "Hudson. Australian accent? About five four, brunette? Ridiculously bad at poker?"

"You know him." You look at him, and Bucky huffs a smile as he continues to pilot the jet. 

"He sold Hydra a fake relique back in the day. He's slippery."

"I'd know." You stand up as Bucky closes in on the location, and Wanda follows your lead. 

…

You find him exactly where Fury told you he'd be, which tells you all you need to know. 

He's nursing a drink at a small bar in the outskirts of Alabama, and although your first instinct is to smash his face against the wooden counter, you sit by his side and order a local beer. 

"What took you so long?" He asks in that characteristic way of his, flashing you a smile and a wink that would be charming if you didn't know the guy as well as you do. 

"I never thought I'd see the day where you were asking for help." You thank the bartender when he comes back with your beer and Hudson's smile wavers. 

Bucky confirms the presence of a third party through your coms, and you're not surprised. You saw at least five armed men when you walked inside, and Hudson's knee continues to shake. 

"Yeah, well." He says as he downs his drink, and sweat drips down the side of his face. "I don't want to die. Fury was the last resource. I'm ready for you to take me in."

Son a bitch, you think. This clever son of a bitch. 

"Who are they?" You ask him just as you hear a gunshot in the street, and he jumps behind the bar.

Chaos erupts inside the bar when you jump behind him and grab hold of his jacket just when he's about to sprint for the back door. 

Bucky and Wanda are already engaging, and when you hear the word Hydra your entire body runs cold. 

"This is Hydra?" You ask him, and when he takes a little too long in nodding, you punch him in the face hard enough to knock him out on the spot. 

Every single one of you has a history with Hydra, and Fury knows that. 

You can hear Bucky cursing and Wanda's grunts as they fight outside while you make sure that Hudson doesn't escape. You drag his heavy ass into a closet, and there you shoot him with a sedative before you run outside to help your team. 

It's absolute chaos. God, you hate Hydra. 

You spot seven men to your left the moment you step outside, and you roll on the ground to get close to a parked car for cover. They all shoot at you, but you make quick work of them. 

Bucky is fighting too, but you catch sight of Wanda in the air; more specifically, you catch the exact moment they hit her with some sort of energy weapon to take her down. 

She loses her balance, but she doesn't crash like they were probably expecting her to. No, she turns her attention to the jet that shot her, and then she buries that jet on the ground with a single movement of her hands. 

You smile to yourself, feeling oddly proud of her, but you don't lose focus. You're still surrounded by enemies, and you make sure to keep shooting while keeping your teammates in your peripheral. 

What did Hudson do? What did he steal, and who did he sell it to? 

"Let me guess," Bucky says as he walks tiredly towards you. He sounds breathless, and his cheek has an inch-long tear, which does nothing to minimize the pissed-off look on his face. "We're his extraction, aren't we?"

"You can yell at Fury for that when we get back," you tell him, and you turn to shoot a few remaining Hydra agents when you see them pointing at Wanda, not at you. Bucky is once again fighting off two guys off of him. 

She has her back to you, and you run towards her. No, you think, not her. 

You take down four out of the five men going for her, but you run out of ammo. She's working on taking down the last jet, and they're not making it easy at all. They're shooting her with everything they have, and so is the guy to your right. 

You sprint just as the jet she's fighting collapses and explodes in a cloud of smoke, dirt, and fire. 

She turns when you're only a couple of feet away, and the bullet hits your shoulder just as her eyes meet yours. 

Her eyes widen as you listen to the unmistakable sound of Bucky's arm when he punches someone. You fall into Wanda's arms, and Bucky rushes to your side. 

"Why - why would you do that?" Wanda asks as she kneels on the ground with you in her arms. "Oh my God. Why would you do that?"

"We need to go." Bucky runs back into the bar to bring out Hudson, and you can't look away from Wanda's terrified expression. 

"Why would you do that?" She asks as tears gather in her eyes, and you try to ignore the pain and the blood on her hands. 

"You know why."

…

August, 3rd

Doctor Woo is a miracle worker. When you emerge from her regenerative chamber, you feel as if you were never shot in the first place. 

"I can't even feel where the wound should be," you tell her in wonder. 

"That's because there's not a wound anymore," she tells you with a grin as you walk backwards towards the wall mirror, trying to get a good look at your shoulder blade. 

"You're amazing," you sincerely tell her, and she takes the compliment with a subtle nod of her head. 

"Thank you. Now, let's go over a few exercises."

You follow her instructions and stretch, bend and shake your arm at her command until she's satisfied with her own work. 

…

Fury doesn't apologize, and you don't mind. He's the boss, well, your boss's boss, and you're here to do a job. 

He gave you his word a while ago that he'd let you know the moment Hudson showed up, and he delivered. Hudson is behind bars, and you were the only one injured in the mission. 

Bucky doesn't have the same perspective that you do, he gives Fury a piece of his mind, and Wanda's eyes turn red in anger, but Fury walks out in one piece. 

"You got shot, how could you just sit there and say nothing?" Tony asks you from the other side of the table, and everyone else turns their attention to you. 

"What's the point in dueling with things that already happened?" You retort, as you always do. "I'm fine now and Hudson was brought in. The mission was a success."

"And nothing else matters in your book, does it?" He bites out. 

"Nothing else should. I'm here to do my job and I know what I signed up for. If I wanted a desk job I'd get one, but I'm here."

"We were ambushed." Wanda reminds you, but you can't look at her, not after what you said - or did. "He should have sent us in there with a lot more back up and you just don't care."

"I care," you tell her as you look up at her. There's a nasty bruise on her jaw that you didn't notice before, and you wonder who got close enough to touch her. "But we're here and we're fine. Next time we do a double check before trusting Fury's whole intel."

"You don't get it," Wanda says, shaking her head. "We need to look out for one another. This isn't just a job for us, and it's time you start to realize that this is not just a work team because you're part of it now."

Bucky points at Wanda, agreeing with her as he continues to glare at you.

You stay in your seat long after they're gone, thinking about Wanda's words and what they mean.

…

August, 4th

Fury takes Hudson away, and none of you have a say in the matter. He's still the master spy, the only one with the A's under his sleeve and then his other sleeve under that one.

You're not exactly new to the team, but you still struggle with the concept of seeing it as anything more than a team. 

You have to keep your head above water, always. Nothing lasts forever. You learned all that the hard way. 

You stay out of everyone's way, and the day drags on, but eventually, you're back in your room at the end of it.

…

August, 5th

You're on your way out of the Compound when you walk by her office, and you catch sight of her because her door is wide open. She doesn't make a habit of closing her office door, you've noticed. 

You shouldn't stop, the wisest thing for you to do is keep walking, but you turn around and knock softly on her door anyway. She looks up from her laptop, and her eyes are suddenly on you… 

...you swallow as you lean casually on her door frame. 

"Hey," you say, and she raises a single eyebrow at you. 

"You going out?" She points at the car keys in your hands, and you jingle them before clearing your throat. 

"Yeah, I am. There's a whole world outside of this place, you've noticed?" She smiles, and you look down.

Ridiculous, you think to yourself. You're ridiculous and a mess when you're alone with her. 

"And a lot of people have opinions too. Keep an eye out for those," she says, and you sigh. 

"Not everyone likes us, I'm okay with that." You shrug as she stands up, and you swallow with difficulty again because the way she looks steals your breath away - in a sense. 

Not that she's wearing anything particularly grand, but tight jeans and knee-high boots make her look -to put it simply- incredible. Not that you're objectifying her but God! 

"It's more than people just not liking us," she says as she runs a hand through her hair and pushes it back. "Maybe you just shouldn't go out alone."

"You worried about me?" You ask her, and you watch her cross her arms, her yellow cashmere sweater hugging her hips as she stretches it. 

"I think. You're kind of growing on me." She scrunches up her nose with her admission, and if you weren't a goner before, you think you definitely are now. 

"And it only took you a year and a half to get there," you tell her, and she laughs, and your stomach feels weird, and you feel like you can't breathe and - it's not fair. It's not fair at all. 

She's married, you remind yourself. She's off-limits and way out of your league. 

"Anyway," she says as she takes a deep breath and sinks her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. "Be careful if you go out. I was gonna watch a movie, you can join me if you decide to stay."

…

It's not even a question anymore, she said the words, and you knew you weren't going anywhere. 

"Oh my god!" You exclaim when you taste the popcorn, she made before you two settled in the movie room. 

"You like?" She asks with a shit-eating grin that you can't ignore. 

"Like? This popcorn is my new religion. Wanda, this is delicious."

"Like I said, easy to please." She pops one in her mouth with a self-satisfied smile, and you - you must be a masochist to be here. 

"I'm serious. What did you put in it?" You pick one popcorn to examine, but it looks just like a regular one.

"I'm not telling you my secrets," she says with a delicate laugh, and you laugh with her. 

"Is it butter?" You ask, and she huffs and rolls her eyes playfully.

"You offend me." She teases you.

"It's some kind of seasoning, isn't it?" You ask, and she hums as she picks one movie on Netflix and presses play. 

"You've watched this?" She asks, and you catch the name of the movie on the screen as you chew slowly. 

"I haven't. Is it rosemary?"

"No, it's not. You haven't watched Mean Girls?"

"I really really haven't. Is it butter? It has to be butter."

"You already asked that. You're gonna love this movie."

"Come on." You nudge her with your shoulder, and she tries to ignore you. "If you don't tell me I'm gonna assume it's butter."

"It's not," she tells you with a laugh, and your stomach does that thing it always does when she smiles, making you feel warm from the inside out.

"It's delicious," you tell her again, and she makes a show to pop one into her mouth. 

"I know," she says with fake innocence, and you don't know what it is exactly, but you have to hold back from kissing her. 

It's torture, and it's not fair. This is exactly why you usually make a point to stay out of her hair. You two click, and it's easy to spend time together, which is why you developed this crush on her in the first place a while ago. 

It's been months since the two of you hung like this, and it's easy when Natasha is home. 

"Thank you," she says out of the blue, and you frown, too preoccupied with the shape of her lips before you look into her eyes. 

"What?" You ask, and she takes your hand, and you realize that you're sitting much closer than you thought you were. "What did I do?"

Her hand is cold and much softer than you've ever dared to imagine, and you think that if she were yours, you'd never need anything more. 

"You took a bullet for me," she says, and the memory of that exchange comes back at you fully. "Thank you. I mean it."

"Of course." You shrug, and she squeezes your hand before letting it go. 

"No one has ever done that for me," she says as an afterthought, and you're caught staring at her profile. 

"I'd take a bullet for you anytime." The line is cheesy, and she smiles, and you blush. 

"Anytime?" She teases you as you laugh at your own embarrassment. 

But her eyes pull you in, and you have to swallow all the things that you wish you could say out loud. 

Yes, you conclude, you're a masochist. She's a hammer, and you just love the way she hurts. 

"If it means you're safe? Yes, anytime."

There's a moment, or you think there's a moment when she seems to be about to say something back, but she swallows her words instead. 

You end up watching the movie in silence, both sitting on opposite sides of the couch and the bowl of popcorn forgotten in the middle. 

…

August 6th

You're in the middle of your usual workout when Wanda walks inside the gym accompanied by Daisy, both looking ready to work out. 

"Wow, you're here." Daisy smiles when she sees you, and you pick up your towel from the bench as you sit up. You were just finishing your abs routine anyway. "Abs." She adds, motioning to all of you, and you find yourself smiling as you press the towel to the back of your neck. 

"Sorry, I'm not usually this awkward. I promise." She rushes to explain.

"I'll take your word on that." You smile, and she blushes, visibly so. When you look at Wanda, she's staring at Daisy with a subtle frown on her forehead. 

"I'm supposed to train in here today," Daisy says conversationally, and Wanda finally looks over to you. 

She has her arms crossed over her chest, and you catch her working her jaw as if she were bothered. 

"Natasha left instructions," she says, and her accent is very prominent when she speaks. You know she slips on her accent only when she's feeling emotional, and you instantly feel bad. 

You have to stop saying things that make her uncomfortable. She's married, and you can't just go about telling her how you'd take a bullet for her again. 

"Wanna spar with me?" Daisy asks you, and the smile on her face is a little contagious, so you have no trouble returning it. 

"Let's do it." You motion for her to follow you to the mats, all the while trying not to look directly at Wanda. 

This is exactly why you kept your distance for a long while. When you're alone with her, you can't help yourself, and you always end up saying stupid things that make her uncomfortable and that are way out of line. 

You take off your shoes and work on stretching your neck and shoulders before you turn around to meet your sparring partner, but Daisy is sitting on the bench, and Wanda is waiting for you on the other end of the mats.

You swallow with difficulty but walk towards the center to meet her halfway anyway. 

"Intimidated already?" You ask Daisy. She bites her lower lip as she shakes her head, not giving anything away. 

"She can watch for now," Wanda says, her voice making you look at her instantly. 

Should you apologize? That'd be even more uncomfortable for the both of you, wouldn't it?

Before you can say anything, she comes at you, throwing a punch that you barely avoid. You look at her in surprise, and she cocks her head to the side, a smug grin appearing on her lips as she challenges you. 

It's been months since the last time you two spar together. You're practically strangers, and you're not sure of what to expect from her.

You round her, observing her fighting stance, which is much more confident than it used to be. When she comes for you again, you're ready, and it's not difficult to avoid her attacks when you're focused. 

You block her punches and roll backward away from her kicks, but you don't attack her just yet. She's relentless, though, and soon she grows irritated, and you only know it because of the crinkle that appears in her forehead without her consent. 

"Really?" She asks, annoyed when you once again roll away from her without doing anything to defend yourself.

"Someone's been practicing," you tell her, and she breaks from her stance to look at you dead in the eyes. 

"My wife insists I do," she says, and there's something in the way she says it. My wife, as if she knows with certainty what she's doing to you. 

"Your wife's taught you well," you tell her, and for a moment alone, she seems to be glaring at you.

You don't know what's happening, but the next time she attacks you, you tackle her to the ground. She gasps when her back hits the mats, the air leaving her lungs as she looks up at you in surprise. 

"There are a few things you still need to learn though." She's breathing hard, her glare making you want to flinch back where you're standing. 

You leave the gym without looking back, and it's only when you get to your room that you realize how badly you're shaking. 

Of course, she knows; you practically told her you'd die for her last night. What the hell were you thinking?

… 

August 7th

"I don't want to be alone," she says the moment you open your door. 

It's four am, and when someone knocked on your door, you never thought it'd be her. 

"Did something happen?" You ask as you rub the sleep off your eyes, and she walks inside your bedroom without waiting for an invitation. 

"I just -" She says as you turn to look at her, but she doesn't finish her sentence. 

"You okay?" You ask her because she seems nervous, as if on the edge of panic, and you don't know what to do. 

"I'm fine." She closes her eyes in frustration, and you watch as she licks her lips, and shakes her head, and doesn't seem to get her ideas straight enough to tell you what she's doing in your bedroom at four am. 

"You sure you're fine?" You ask her, and, taking a deep breath, she looks at you. 

"I know why you avoid me so much," she says, and you swallow with difficulty. 

Your back stiffens as if a bucket of ice-cold water just fell on you, and you can't look away from her eyes. 

"Of course you do." You clear your throat, refusing to overthink this. "I think I told you myself last night."

"Well, that and the little fact that you took a bullet for me." The sound of her voice is meant to be light, you can see her trying, but nothing about this is light or easy for you either way.

She's a married woman, and you've seen her and Natasha together, and you know that nothing can ever get in between them. Not that you want to either, you'd rather see her happy from the outside than hurt her in any way.

Love like that, like the one they share, is so rare to see, let alone easy to find.     

"Look, Wanda -"

"I like you." She cuts you off, and the revelation should make you elated, but it only serves to confuse you. 

"You like me." You say the words out loud, and your stomach flutters against your better judgment. "You like me?"

"I know I shouldn't and I know it's wrong." She rushes to explain. "I shouldn't have said anything."

She's panicking, and your brain is not catching up fast enough. She's about to cry, and she's about to run out when you finally react and close your door before she can make a run for it. 

"Hold on." You ask her with a gentle hand on her arm. "It's okay."

She looks troubled as if confessing this has to mean something, and you know well that it doesn't. The last thing you ever want to do is get in between her marriage, and liking isn't feelings; liking is easy to get over. 

"Is it?" She asks you, her eyes locking you in, and you'd be lying if you said that you weren't dying to kiss her but - 

"It is." You assure her with a smile that you hope is calming. "Look, we're attractive. Attraction happens, it's human but it doesn't have to mean anything." 

For a moment, your words hang in the air, and then she chuckles, and you can breathe easily again. As stupid as that was to say you accomplished what you wanted, she's laughing, and things are not yet awkward. 

"You know," she says, and when she licks her lips again, you can't help but feel thirsty, and you know how absolutely ridiculous that sounds in your own head. "That actually helps. You're right."

"So you're good now?" You ask her with a smile, still trying to get past this. "You're not freaking out anymore?"

"Stop that," she says, but the smile on her lips is gorgeous, and you know you want nothing more out of life. "I wasn't freaking out. Maybe a little. I'm fine now."

"That's good." You nod while you hold her stare, and while her eyes flicker, she licks her lips, and you know there's something else she wants to say. 

"I'm gonna go," she says with the enthusiasm of someone who definitely wants to stay. 

"Okay." You nod, but she doesn't move, and neither do you. 

You want, and you want, and the way she looks at you makes you believe that maybe she wants the same thing. 

"I was jealous," she says out of the blue, and you frown in confusion. 

"What?" 

"Daisy likes you and she's not subtle at all, and I was jealous. I have no right to be, I know, but I was jealous because she didn't have to hide it."

She leaves, and you stand exactly where she left you for a long while, not being able to move or think past her last sentences. 

You can't sleep after she leaves, and you don't see her at all for the rest of the day. 

…

August 8th

Entering Tony's lab, you realize that you aren't the only one he called in here. 

"Have you ever heard of the word punctuality?" He asks you, and you head right over to him to plant a loud kiss on his cheek. 

"You need to shave," you tell him, and you can hear Sam softly laughing. 

"You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago," Tony says, completely ignoring your suggestion as you move closer to the small lounge area he has in his lab. 

"I was in the gym when your text came in. I wasn't gonna come in all sweaty and gross."

"What's wrong with being sweaty and gross?" Bucky asks as he walks in too. 

"Have you ever heard of the word punctuality?" Tony asks him, and you and Sam laugh out loud, while Bucky just shrugs, offering no excuse whatsoever. 

"What's this all about anyway?" Sam asks Tony, and you finally take a look to where Wanda has been sitting in complete silence since you walked in. 

You go over to her and take the empty seat next to hers, and the old leather couch cracks loudly under your weight, which makes her smile as she looks at you.

"That was totally this old thing," you tell her, and she tucks her hair behind an ear as she looks away, nodding her head. 

"Don't worry," she says, and Tony clears his throat rather loudly. 

He launches into a detailed explanation about the technology he uses to power your suits and special gadgets, but you hear none of it. 

No, you're too preoccupied staring at Wanda and thinking about the last thing she told you. 

The last couple of days have been a whirlwind, to say the least, and you're certain of one thing only, you don't want to lose her friendship. This is enough. Being her friend is enough, but not seeing her completely will devastate you. 

"What?" She asks you with a tone meant to be exasperated, but the small smile on her lips doesn't fool you. 

"I didn't see you yesterday," you tell her, and she looks at her lap. She's troubled, and you can see it clearly. 

"You missed me?" She asks you after a beat, a cute grin pulling at the corners of her lips as she looks at you. 

"Yeah." You nod, your eyes falling to her lips for a second. "Always."

"Excuse me?" Tony's annoyed voice reaches your ears, and you look at him. "Did you listen to a thing I just said?"

"You updated our uniforms, starboy. We have to take care of them. We all hear you."

The boys laugh, and Wanda hides her smile behind her hand as Tony glares daggers at you. 

"You're not funny," he tells you, and you blow him a kiss. 

"Then why is everyone else laughing?" You ask him, and he rolls his eyes at you. 

"We were listening," Wanda tells him, and his glare turns to her. "You updated our uniforms and the communications line now has a wider range."

"They do have a wider range." He points the pen he's holding at her, and he goes back to explain the details that none of you can actually understand. Well, maybe Sam can, a little. 

After what feels like an eternity and you've all tried the new gadgets, you walk out of his lab. 

"Hey, wanna grab lunch?" You ask Wanda as the boys walk ahead of you. She hesitates for a second, but then she nods her head, and you go to the elevator. 

She's quiet in the elevator ride towards the garage, uncharacteristically so. But you watch her through the mirror wall, and she's looking down at the floor, her fingers playing with each other as if to consciously avoid meeting your stare. 

You don't know what goes through her mind, and you don't attempt to know either. You can do this, and nothing has to change. 

She knows about your feelings, and although she confessed to being physically attracted to you, nothing has to change. Wanting her and loving her is enough. 

She doesn't look at you when you walk the small path towards your car, not even when you get in first. She's nervous and conflicted. 

"Get in," you tell her softly, and the moment she meets your gaze - something changes.

She smiles softly at you, and she drops her hands, and you watch her take a deep breath and surround the car to get in the passenger seat. 

It's unfair how beautiful she is; it truly is torture for you. You're not able to look away as she walks, as she smiles, as she just - exists. 

You take her to a little restaurant a couple of miles south of the Compound that you frequent. She hasn't been in, and when you order two of your favorites, the smile on her face returns, truly returns. 

She's all smiles as you talk and talk, and she listens with a smile that does inexplicable things to you. 

You could watch her smile from afar, and you know it'd be enough. 

By the time you're driving back home, she's telling you about a new recipe she wants to try, and when you say goodbye, you might be a little more in love with her. 

…

August 9th

You're walking by the kitchen when you catch sight of Wanda dancing softly by the stove. She must think there's no one around because she's bobbing her head and holding a wooden spoon to her mouth as if it were a microphone and you're positively smitten by her. 

The mere image that should be embarrassing only manages to endear her to you, and you can't help but walk towards her. 

You recognize the song playing softly through the speakers the closer you get, and when she sees you, she jumps backward, her cheeks tainted red and a gasp leaving her parted lips. 

There's a moment when you're about to burst out laughing, and she's looking at you in horror that you'll make fun of her, but then the chorus to 'Living on a prayer,’ comes up, and both of you sing loudly to it. 

You dance around her, and she follows you with a smile on her face as you both sing, and dance and when the song ends, she's laughing, and you are too. 

"We should totally host a karaoke night," you tell her, and her smile, God! Her smile makes your heart flutter, and you don't know how to breathe properly. 

"Yeah, that was fun." She nods as her eyes drop to your lips for a moment. 

You can't breathe because you could have this kind of fun all the time if you had only met her before Natasha did. 

But you didn't, and you have no right to be thinking like this, none. You can daydream about kissing her, but you can't feel like this; it's not fair. 

But then she kisses you, and you're not prepared at all. 

The sudden touch of her lips against yours makes you flinch back, and she's looking just as scared as you feel. 

A moment passes, and she doesn't look away from you, so when you lean towards her, she meets you halfway. 

You kiss her, and a tidal wave of emotions travels through your body, making your lungs feel tight, and your hands begin to shake as they grip her waist. She pulls you closer, her hands on your nape pulls and pulls until you're pressing her body between the counter and yours. 

You've heard about the clichés and even experienced one or two yourself, but you've never experienced them all at the same time. 

When Wanda parts her lips and your tongues meet in a deeper and more sensual kiss, fireworks erupt behind your eyelids, your stomach begins to flutter, and you can hear a light song playing softly just for you to hear. Everything is there, every single cliché, and everything else disappears. 

Suddenly it's just the two of you alone in a world where no one can come in and bother you, nothing else exists, and it's a scary sensation but passionate too. It's exciting and sweet. 

It's a perfect kiss. 

And you realize that wanting won't be enough after this moment. 

When you pull back to get some much-needed air, her eyes are still closed, and you're not sure how you're going to be able to move on from this. 

She makes the choice for both of you, though. She pushes you away, lightly and then she practically runs out of the kitchen. 

You stand there for a long while, just thinking and still feeling the imprint of her lips on yours, but eventually, you turn off the stove and leave too. 

…

August 10th 

It's two-thirty in the morning when your phone rings, and you wake up quickly, but you don't catch the call. When you go to check who called, your phone doesn't show a missed call. 

Natasha. It's an old trick you used once before. 

"Friday," you call out as you run out of your room. Your heart is hammering inside your chest because you know this could very well be a call for help. "Stand by, I might need you to wake everyone up."

You run towards Tony's lab, but you don't find it empty. 

"Jesus Christ!" He jumps to his feet, clutching his chest and almost losing his balance when you all but barrel inside. 

"I saw an old radio here yesterday." You run towards the back, and you find it with ease. 

"Hey, what's going on?" He asks, now more worried than scared. 

"Hold on." You raise your hand as you search for the right frequency, and just like you expected, a code begins to play. "Get me a piece of paper and a pen."

"What's going on?" He raises his voice but gets you what you need. 

The message is on repeat, so you listen and write down, and when you finally read the whole message, the air returns to your lungs, and you take in a deep breath. 

"Well?" Tony practically screams when you sit down on the floor. 

"That woman is insane." You point the pen at him, and he snatches it from your hand. 

"Tell me what's going on. Now!"

"Geez. Relax, grandpa."

"Don't call me that. I swear if you don't start talking I'm gonna -"

"It was Nat." You cut him off as you stand up, and his eyes widen. "They're fine, just unable to properly communicate right now. Mission got complicated but they haven't been made, they're safe but they'll be gone for a whole month. Or so she estimates."

"You got all that from that code?" He asks, and you grin in response.

"And without any of your gadgets." You add with an impressed look, making him roll his eyes. 

"You need to inform the wife," he tells you, and your stomach sinks for a whole different reason. 

"I know."

… 

You're standing outside Wanda's bedroom, and it's almost three am. You're considering waiting till the morning to tell her all this when her door opens from within. 

"Hey," she says when she sees you standing there. 

"Hi." You look at her, and you lose track of what exactly you're doing here because she's wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt that barely touches her thighs and her legs seem to run on for days. 

She's so beautiful, unfairly so, and you're so nervous about being here with her because you can still feel the imprint of her lips on yours from the forbidden kiss you shared just hours ago. 

"Is everything alright?" She asks as she tucks her hair behind an ear shyly, probably after noticing you staring at her legs. 

"Right." You take a deep breath and focus on looking at her face. "Nat sent a message."

"What did she say?" She rushes to ask you and all awkwardness disappears, and she's Natasha's wife. 

"They're okay but they can't communicate properly. They're safe and they won't be back for at least a whole month."

"She's safe?" She asks with a subtle nod of her head as if to reassure herself. 

"She's safe." You still answer because it looks like she needs to hear it.

You're intently observing her, so you notice the exact moment in which she remembers you, and her eyes widen. You think she considers apologizing, but you both know that she has nothing to apologize to you for. 

"I'm gonna go," you tell her, but she grabs your arm before you can turn around.

"Wait," she says. "Stay for a bit. Let's talk."

It's only when you're sitting in one of the three couches inside that you realize that you'll never be able to tell her no. Not that you mind at the moment, but you do find yourself thinking that maybe that's a dangerous trait to have with her, especially since she's a married woman.  

You watch her pouring wine in two tall glasses in silence, perhaps considering what she should say and do, and you take the chance to look around a little bit. 

The room is bigger than yours, it's almost like a small one-bedroom apartment. It has a little living room area, a bar in the corner stuck with several bottles of wine and vodka, a small library to the left of the ensuite, and of course, the king-sized bed against the back wall. 

"Here." She hands you a glass, and you take an immediate sip if only to busy yourself with something. 

"You really like your chardonnay, huh?"

"You like it too," she says matter of factly, and you smile in response. "Don't deny it."

"Wine it's kind of our thing now. I do like it." You nod as she sits in front of you on the loveseat. 

She breathes in as if she's about to tell you something, but she's at a loss, and you hate to see her conflicted. 

"Wanda," you call her, and she looks up. "This doesn't have to mean anything."

"I know," she says, cutting you off. "I know it doesn't have to mean anything, but I was thinking -"

She trails off, and she's not looking at you. She's staring at the glass of wine in her hands as a small crinkle appears on her forehead. 

"I was thinking," she says again, and she looks back up. Her eyes lock you in as she rests her elbow on the armrest, and you're ridiculously entranced by her and the way she touches her lips softly, her eyes still on you. "Maybe it can mean something after all."

You're so caught up with watching her lips that it takes you a couple of seconds to register what she just said. 

"What?" You ask her, and it feels as if you were in a daze. 

She doesn't say anything for a beat, and you wait as she drinks her wine and puts her glass down before standing up and walking over to you. 

You're aware that you're practically frozen to your spot, but you don't really care about anything but her at this moment. 

When she sits next to you, she's nervous, you can easily pick up on her anxiousness, but when she takes the glass from your hands and sets it aside, her hands are barely shaking.

"Wanda." You gasp when she doesn't let go of your hand, and she moves to sit closer to you, on her side, her leg tucked under as she looks into your eyes. 

"You think it can mean something, for now?" She asks, and you lose your breath, thinking that maybe you're imagining all of this. 

But seeing into her eyes, you're more sure than ever before that you can't say no to her, not even for this, for what you believe she's asking of you. 

You nod softly but without a doubt that you want her. Whatever she wants to give, you want it. 

She smiles timidly but what she does next is the complete opposite. She's still holding your hand, and when she moves it, you're still looking into her eyes. 

She leads your hand between her legs, letting you feel the soft skin of her thighs before you realize that she's not wearing anything beneath that t-shirt. 

You quickly realize that whatever will happen between the two of you will not be pretty. The second you feel how wet she is, the thought comes to you, and you know you'll end up hurt and devastated from whatever happens. 

Still, that first touch of her makes her whimper softly and her hips back into your hand as her thighs fall open, spreading herself wide for you. And that whimper, that little breathy whimper she lets out, imprisons you. 

She's holding onto your wrist as you run your fingers down her slit, only to gather her wetness before running them back up to graze her clit, making her gasp and feel as if she can't breathe. 

Hot desire coils in your belly with the sounds she's making, and you begin to throb in your own craving to be touched back. 

She closes her eyes when she can no longer keep them on you, and you find yourself gasping for breath too. 

You quickly move, falling to the ground on your knees and taking your hand back. That makes her open her eyes in a frenzy, only to find you kneeling right in front of her. 

You pull her towards the edge, hands on her bare waist, and since she's not really wearing anything between her legs. Getting there with your mouth is not a difficult task at all. 

You kiss her thighs first, and her breathing turns erratic, her hands touch your shoulders, your hands, she pulls lightly at your hair, and you smile to yourself. 

When you finally put your mouth on her, you feel her tensing, and you take in a moment to take it all in. 

This is happening, you're really here, and this is happening. 

You lick a path down her slit before pressing your tongue against her opening, hard and bringing your tongue back up. Her hips buck, and she's gripping your hair hard, even more so when your tongue finds her clit, and you round it before sucking on it. 

She's too worked up, she was already wet when you first touched her, and it only takes you a couple of minutes to make her cum in your mouth. 

You feel it happening slowly, her body comes to a halt, and she seems to stop breathing, and these delicious tiny whimpers leave her parted lips, over and over again. 

You kiss her thighs, your hands still holding onto her waist under the t-shirt, but it only takes her a moment to pull herself back together, and then she's pulling you towards her to kiss you fully and ardently. 

She wraps her arms around you as you kiss her with bruising enthusiasm, and you push your hips between her legs, making her wrap her legs around you before standing up. 

You don't stop kissing, and she's surprisingly light to lift. You walk blindly to her bed, and when you fall on top of her in the soft mattress, she laughs as you pull back slightly. 

"You're a great kisser," she says with a glint in her eyes and raw kissed pink lips. Something about the moment makes you want to freeze it, save the look in her eyes in your memory forever. 

"Wanda," you say her name, and she kisses you again. 

This time she pulls at your sleeping shirt until you sit up and take it off completely before attaching your lips to her neck.

She moans when your hips buck against hers, and you're cupping her breasts, sucking on her neck, and pushing your hips against hers when she runs her nails down your back, scratching you lightly, and you have to pull back. 

The sensation of her nails on your back have you losing your breath. You're shivering even as she smiles at you and sits up in front of you. 

With a light push, she has you on your back, her hands pulling down your sleeping pants and panties without preamble. 

"You okay?" She asks you as she throws your clothes to the floor, and you sit up too. 

"Yes," you tell her, and although you're starting to feel like you can't breathe, you really do feel okay. 

"You sure?" She asks in a whisper as she pushes you lightly again, and she lays on top of you. 

You gasp in a breath when you feel her naked body pressing against yours. Her breasts, her belly, her legs, and her lips kissing the corner of your lips as she waits for an answer. 

"I'm sure." You nod, and she kisses you hungrily. There's no build-up for this kiss, just underrated want, and you respond in kind. 

You try to keep your eyes open as she kisses every inch of your body, and as she squeezes your breasts before taking a nipple in her mouth, you begin to believe that you might not make it out alive. 

It's a ridiculous thought, of course, but she's everything you've ever wanted, and having her do these ungodly things to you is slowly driving you insane. And when she's planting delicate kisses on your belly, her hands spreading your legs for her, you truly believe that you might pass out. 

Instead, you watch her lick a path down your navel and then her tongue disappearing between your folds, and the sensation of her wet hot breath coming in contact with your heat makes you shiver and buck your hips involuntarily. 

She chuckles lightly, her hands coming to grip your hips to keep them in place, and you feel yourself blushing. 

"I haven't even started yet." She smiles, but she doesn't let you speak before her mouth is once again in you, her tongue dipping and forcing itself inside of you. 

She's so warm, her tongue so skilled, and you find yourself cumming much faster than you ever thought you would. 

You keep your eyes closed as a tidal wave of blinding pleasure washes over you. You feel her pressing her lips on your thighs, her hands on your waist, and then she removes herself completely from you. 

You hear her bathroom door close, and you let out a deep breath. 

Not knowing what to do until she gets back, you pick up your clothes and get dressed quickly. You don't know what to do or what to think once you're fully dressed again. 

Was this a one-time thing? Is she freaking out in the bathroom? Is she waiting for you to leave? 

What does it mean?

"Hey," she says, and you haven't noticed the bathroom door opening. You didn't even see her coming out. 

"Hey," you say it back, and she's wearing a top now and a pair of sweats. 

God! She's still the most beautiful woman you've ever seen, and you're pretty sure that you're in love with her, irrevocably so, but she's still married, and you still did something wrong here. 

"Sorry, I just needed to use the bathroom." She says with an awkward smile. She's picked up her hair in a messy ponytail, and it looks like she's washed her face, and all you want to do is walk up to her and kiss her again. 

"It's okay," you tell her. "I should go anyway." You say, and she walks up to you slowly, as if she's expecting you to bolt, and she's biting her bottom lip in a way that to you is now so intimate. 

"I'm not throwing you out," she says, and before you know how to properly react, her hands are on your shoulders, running up to your neck and down again. 

Her touch has an instant effect on you, and you don't know how she does it. You don't know how she can have this much power over you, over your body, and over the way you react to her, mentally and physically. 

You feel yourself relax, the tension on your shoulders dropping with each stroke of her hands, and the doubts that were swirling in your head quiet down the longer she looks at you with her big rounded eyes. 

"You can stay. You should, actually." She says with humor, and you smile, your hands coming to rest on her waist instinctively. "You don't want me to think you regret this, don't you?"

"I don't." You shake your head. "I don't regret it."

"Good," she says. "Neither do I."

… 

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #scarlett witch x reader #august

[wndaswife]

Girl, this sounds like a wanda fic I read. I think it was @missmonsters2. Basically, Wanda finds out that everything that Vision has done from her that she has loved was Y/Ns idea. Honestly, I'm just glad she found our cause Y/N deserved some recognition. And so do you. Dont give away your charm cause if this girlbetter falls for this man with YOUR ideas I'm gonna throw some hands.

LMFOAOAOA the thinking about a similar fic immediately 😭 tbh this must be a good one but it’ll develop delusions in me or it’ll hit too hard

#rae responds #anon

[myfavoriteficss]

Wednesday Masterlist

This Masterlist includes all of the Wednesday fan fiction I have reblogged. Enjoy.

Updated: 12/30/2023

Masterpost

1. Wednesday Addams

Written by: @anonymousewrites

A Good Day for Death: (1) A Good Day for Roommates - (2) A Good Day for Plans - (3) A Good Day for Festivals - (4) A Good Day for Death - (5) A Good Day for Strategy - (6) A Good Day for Competition - (7) A Good Day for Fudge - (8) A Good Day for Ruins - (9) A Good Day for Statues - (10) A Good Day for Shopping - (11) A Good Day for Dances - (12) A Good Day for Family - (13) A Good Day for Birthdays - (14) A Good Day for Arguments - (15) A Good Day for Diaries - (16) A Good Day for Apologies - (17) A Good Day for Death - (18) A Good Day for Resurrection - (19) A Good Day for Until Next Times

Valentines Day Special 2023

A Good Day for Death Pride Special 2023

A Good Day for Death Halloween Special 2023

Written by: @basichextechml

(1) Details - (2) Revelations

Wet Braids and Ribbon Ties

The Leaded Question

The Beat of your Heart (The Cry of my Own)

Did You Want Flowers?

Written by: @breaddwoo

(1) Bloody Kisses - (2) Smitten - (3) Vanilla

Written by: @brotherblaze

Double Black: Part 1 - Part 2

Written by: @celiastjamesoscar

To Be Alone

Like Real People Do

Written by: @chaeyoungies

Slipping Through My Fingers

Written by: @crazyoffher

paranoid.

Written by: @danzaloreley

Indée Fixe

Written by: @dysphoros​

(1) Who are you now, You fool? - (2) Beauty Is in the eyes of the beholder

Interview with a vampire: (1) Interview with a Vampire - (2) Hunger - (3) Resfeber - (4) Dissimulate

What are my lips for if to not meet yours?

Written by: @extinctspino

Teamwork

Written by: @fleetingvow

‘ Bitter Solitude.

Written by: @ghostlynachopanda

(1) Nevermore’s Guardian - (2) Warmth - (3) The Weathervane - (4) The Walk - (5) The Talk - (6) Solution

Marks: Part 1 - Part 2

Till Next Time: Part 1 - Part 2

Patch Up

Like a Charm

Kiss

Study Date

Close

For You

Envy

Hurtful Words

Third Wheel

Rest

jacket

Music

Written by: @house-of-lovin

grouch

be mine?

cuddle bug

Written by: @i984

(1) I Want to be Yours - (2) Finally Hers

(1) Sweet Words Make a Lovely Shade - (2) A Scarlet Touch - (3) Not So Peachy of a Trick - (4) My Thoughts Echoing Your Name

Ran Out of Paper

Festival Trouble

Grump Black Cat

Your Love, My Religion

Dreams of Lavender Confessions

I Love You- Wait, What?

Snowy Escape

Blazing Promises

Sweet, Foolish

A Letter to the Yearning Moon

Wounds, Not Dreams

In Sickness and In Health

Tonight, the Moon is Yours

Mattress Laid, No Questions Asked

Written by: @jazzyoranges

Recognizable

Written by: @liminal-space-lesbian

Summer Concussions

Written by: @lowkeyerror

Falling Fast: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Epilogue

Written by: @lucianslover

10 Things I Hate About You

Written by: @luthorgarbage

Wednesday’s Web: One

Written by: @makncheese12

Alkaline: Part 1 - Part 2

Written by: @may-fanfic

Safe With You

Written by: @midnightmoonkiss

Sweet Dreams.

Written by: @mikavlcs

(1) Reverie - (2) Elysium

Loveless

Paralysis

Heaven in Hiding

Had Enough

Ricochet

Absence Persistent

Breathe

Flowers

Heaven in Hiding

Sweater Weather

Static Patterns

Spotlight

Heaven Sent

White Flag

Astraphobia

Dinosaur Talks

Whispers in the Dark

Rebels and Renegades

Dog Days

Not On My Mind

Written by: @missmonsters2

Wednesday’s Dictionary of Emotions: (1) Adronitis - (2) Monachopsis - (3) Jouska - (4) Opia - (5) Agnothesia - (6) Liberosis - (7) Flashover - (8) Nighthawk - (9) Ambedo - (10) Kairosclerosis - (O.S) First/Second Date Jitters - (O.S) Want Your Slow Dance

Just Last Lifetime: One - Two

Oblivion

Just Like Silk

Lips Over Your Nightmares

Written by: @mrtwizz

Snow On The Beach: Part One - Part Two - Part Three

Written by: @msgorillagripcoochie

(1) Nonsense - (2) Butterflies in my stomach

Written by: @rainbow-hedgehog

Exchange Student

Written by: @sleepinthrumyalarms

(1) To Tame a Demon - (2) The Perfect Girl 

Protective Instincts

Your Teeth Don’t Scare Me

Weird But Lovely Trophies

Daddy Issues

After Dark

Good Little Girl

Hard to Keep my Cool

Kiss It Better

Loving the beast, loving it whole

Their Affair, Bloody

Written by: @softgreengrass

Sun to Me: Part 1 - Part 2

Covert Narcissism

Written by: @spaghettiposts

Video Games

Written by: @specialagentlokitty

Restore the Balance: Part One - Part Two - Part Three

Soft For You

Never Again

Just a Tiny Hint

Written by: @stirthewaters

Too Sharp to Touch: Part 1

Written by: @talesofesther​

Scorch Marks: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Sweet Calamity: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - (O.S) Pretty Secrets - Chapter 10 - (O.S) Birthday Girl 

Don't Know How to be Something You Miss: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

(1) I told the moon about you - (2) Darling darkness

Yours Only

Deep Devotion

Crimson and White

Cinnamon and Spice

The Hearts that Matches Mine

Dark Trees are Better

Find the Beauty

Golden Ballads

Love the Way You Love Me

Tender as the Rain

I guess that's love

Written by: @theunreliablewriter

Clumsy Defender

Written by: @toddxhavez

My Eyes

Written by: @toournextadventure

Everyone But Her: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 - Part 26 - Part 27 - Part 28 - Part 29 - Part 30 - Part 31 - Part 32 - Part 33 - Part 34 - (O.S) The Cave (18+) - Part 32 - (O.S) They Didn't Know - (O.S) A Fair Trade - (O.S) Revenge - Part 33 - Part 34 - Part 35 - Part 36 - Part 37 - Part 38

Would You Love Me?

you simp

l’appel du vide

we match

im no poet

Trouble Maker

Written by: @vorsdany

When I Dream (Of Dying): (1) (Not So) Colorful Buzz - (2) Watch Out! - (3) Freeze! You’re on Fire - (4) Good, Bad Impressions - (5) Harmonious Danger - (6) When I Dream (Of Dying)

Golden Eyes and Melted Hearts

Violescent

Meant To Be (Alone)

Shots For They Heart

Names On Your Tongue

Ink Over Your Soul 

Take Me Home 

Sea of Stars

Nights Like These

A Luminous Jewel

Bloody Woes

A Vexatious Creature

Warm My Frozen Heart

Just This Once

Of Dying Days

Written by: @vulpe-fox

Where Shadows Meet

Shadow’s Keeper

Written by: @wandaromanova

enigma.

never did.

obvious

Written by: @ykiwrite

Kiss of Death

Written by: @70svampyr

Wednesday Addams Relationship! Headcanons

2. Enid Sinclair

Written by: @specialagentlokitty

Peace With You

Protect You

Not Getting Hurt That Easy

Written by: @toournextadventure

Thunder and Lightning

3. Yoko Tanaka

Written by: @euoniaroses

Jealous? Please,

Written by: @mrsfrenchie

Touch

#masterlist #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #dom’s recommendations #enid sinclair #enid sinclair x reader

[chelleztjs18]

Ten Days || Series Masterlist

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Main Masterlist

Pt. 1 // Pt. 2 // Pt. 3 // Pt. 4 // Pt. 5 // Pt. 6

Summary: Y/n and Wanda is stuck in an arranged marriage. What will happen when both of them have their own deals to be done in ten days?

Warning: 18+, SMUT, swearing words. Fluff, Angsts. (Specific warning for each part)

A/n: This is for "THBBMarchMovieMadness2022 Event" on discord server run by @missmonsters2 This is a miniseries fic that's inspired by "How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days" romcom. Happy reading! :)

Cheerio!

#THBBMarchMovieMadness2022 #modern au #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda marvel #wanda mcu #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #elizabeth olsen #kate bishop #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #bucky barnes #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you #lizzie olsen #lizzie olsen x you #elizabeth olsen fanfic #lizzie olsen fanfic #lizzie olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen fluff

[randomshyperson]

do u know any good smuts with bottom!wanda? i can barely find any.....

Idk why but even in other characters tags, most writers go for bottom!readers right?? Someone needs to study this haha

Most of my work is Bottom Wanda fics, you can check the pinned masterlist but i don't know any specific off the top of my head... try checking other blogs? maybe use the tag "bottom!wanda". And If i'm not mistaken, @cowxpoke only writes top!reader, and both @missmonsters2 and @maximotts have some fics with this dynamic as well. I'm not good with blog names so sorry if I'm forgetting someone, hope you find your smut <3

#ask box #i shall write more bottom wanda after this

[i984]

Signing off...

Hello! I want to start this post by telling you guys something really interesting...

Tl;dr: I'm taking a break for a month due to severe stress and performance anxiety, plus college and work is kicking me in the arse, but do send requests and prompts in because I need to write them FLUFF to get rid of the stress. Love ya!

So a month ago I stumbled upon a really amazing writer here on tumblr dearest, and I immediately fell in love with their work. It was so well written, and I couldn't comprehend the fact that it was the first ever story they've ever written and they wrote it under such circumstances that if I were to be put in their position, I can guarantee I wouldn't even be able to string a coherent sentence.

Anyway, that really got me thinking.

It's been two months since I first started writing, and revisiting old works of mine reveals something along the lines of "I'm not improving," and "I'm not creative."

It's been a problem I seem to notice, is that I struggle a lot with characterization (ESPECIALLY this) and pacing, among other things that makes me view my works mostly as blegh.

I know comparing is probably not the best way to develop, and I wouldn't say I'm envious of people's talents (because it's obvious some people are just so great at stuff lmao) but it's more like I'm disappointed in myself I guess(?)

In the collective 20 works that I've published over the two months, I still can't fully grasp what works and what doesn't with the Fandom, and I can't quite identify nor fix the problems in my writings. Combined with the burn out, this makes writing a very painful process for me even though I really want to enjoy it.

I rely very heavily on external validations and to see that in the midst of the dead Fandom (when compared to when it's at its peak), people can still garner almost 1k notes in the span of a week (and I can see why it's very well loved), posting here just makes me so stressed when I shouldn't even be.

It got so bad to the point I have trouble breathing every time I think about writing, and although now it doesn't happen as often, the performance anxiety is pretty much there.

Work, as well as college too has been a pretty great contributor for my stress and to put writing on top of that is just excruciating for me.

And that's why I'm taking a break!

It'll probably a month break like how I've stated in previous post, because it's become apparent I need rest LMAO

Thank you so much for the support you guys have shown and sent my way, I want to say that I really appreciate it! Honestly I wouldn't get this far without you guys, I love you so much!

I've set some reblogs for other creator's works while I'm gone, because I've been meaning to read but I just haven't found the opportunity for it. People here make such great works <3

If you guys have any requests, PLEASE DON'T HESITATE TO SEND THEM IN. I know this might feel contradictory but as I pointed out, I'm not really imaginative or creative, and I really want to write things, but most of the time I cant come up with anything or what I think is good isn't what you guys want (I know I still have a bunch of requests sitting around, but like I said I write when inspiration struck me).

So yes, send requests in so that I can do some writing during the break, and hopefully come back with a bunch of requests already done and ready to post!

Also, if you guys make it this far, I've got a surprise for you which is I'm finally trying to work on the series I've been planning to do since January HAHA! We'll have to see where it takes me but right now I have so much ideas running around in my brain and not enough waking hour in the day to develop and write it.

How do you guys feel about lord crime v.s. master detective trope BECAUSE I AM CRAZY ABOUT IT.

I'll see you guys when I do :) Love you! ❤

Special thanks to:

@missmonsters2 and @robiin-buckley for being the people who literally BURNS my heart with the desire and give me the courage to write, I wouldn’t be here without you 🥺💘

@ocyrus for being my first ever anon, I cannot stress how much I owe you <3

@tulipsbymybed for hyping me up when I first started and when I thought my work is a shitshow.

@vorsdanysstuff for being the first person to reblog my stuff and says some very very nice things about it and gave me more confidence to write, and also. For finding me and being the love of my life. I treasure you with my whole being.

@wol-fica for feeding me with cat pictures and being my lovely wife who misses me when I'm gone and makes picrews of us together, I love you so much 💓

@maryannecrimsworth for noticing my username and for loving my blogs questionable aesthetic, and for talking to me about dystopia and being my favorite lil bro!

@cursedchar for being the awkward mutual at first but now we spew chaos every where and every time we talk and interact. Honestly, you bring the wild side in me out to the world. Still hate your angsty stuff tho.

@tundra1029 FOR BEING THE ICON THAT GIVES GOOD ASS AMAZING PROMPTS and being a super lovely person and a great writer, I love you buddy <3

@alexkolax for well. You know me the most out of everyone in this site. My respect and trust for you is through the roof and cannot be expressed with mere words. Thank you for being here, Lex.

@ricosnumber1fan for being there in most of my works. I still think about you and scroll through your comments and reblogs. You're the best (second to sourdough tho).

@theflamboyantshadow for always leaving amazing comments under my posts, you are the sweetest person ever and I really wish you a great fucking life. Love you.

@iamnicodemus for writing that dragon Wednesday fic... and LEAVING THE MOST FLATTERING REBLOGS. ILYSM AND. you always make me smile when I think of you LMAO

@literally everybody else who've single handedly kept me alive and well on this site, I appreciate all your little asks, reblogs, comments, likes, and just UGH my heart aches for every single one of you.

Pray I return soon.

[talesofesther]

fic tropes tier list

I was tagged by my lovely @ohmyitsfaith <3 but made a new post because the original was huge. So here's my list;

No surprise that my writing style is all at the top lol.

Here's the template.

No pressure tags: @missmonsters2 @i984 @stevebabey @harringtown @wwinterwitch @eviekensington and anyone else who wants to do it

#tag game #me

[mikavlcs]

Whispers in the Dark

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: After a harrowing nightmare, Wednesday tries her best to bring you comfort.

Warnings: soft/ooc!wednesday...you have been warned

Word count: 1.6k

Notes: @vorsdany and i did a matching prompts challenge, so make sure to go read hers as well -> Take Me Home

(also if you think that this is just a worse iteration of this story by tumblr user missmonsters2, you are absolutely correct! go read hers as well<3)

Masterlist

Wednesday Addams adored nightmares.

There was nothing quite like the rush of adrenaline she got when she escaped from the clutches of a particularly dreadful nightmare.

The way the terror could persist for hours after, leaving behind a lingering sense of dread that heightened the senses, was addictive. As far as Wednesday was concerned, it was one of the greatest feelings in the world.

The flashes of technicolor terror and monochromatic mania quickly became her favorite part of the day. The perfect precursor to the torture she would have to endure when she woke up and was forced to interact with her fellow classmates.

But this, unfortunately, was not a very widely held opinion. For most, night terrors were a blight, not a blessing.

And she was so graciously reminded of this when Thing came tumbling in from the balcony, movements more frantic than she’d ever seen before. It was odd, she thought, given both the late hour and the fact that he was supposed to be staying with you for the night, but she still didn’t spare him a glance.

If he had a problem, he could consult her after her writing hour. Enid was off having a sleepover at Yoko’s, and she was intent on taking advantage of the rare quiet in her dorm.

However, Thing wasn’t one to be deterred. When he failed to get her attention, he jumped onto her typewriter, smashing a bunch of keys beneath his fingers and effectively ruining the page she was working on in the process.

Wednesday blinked, then twice, brows raising in surprise. Her fingers curled into fists, jaw clenching against the rush of anger that coursed through her. Slowly, she bit out a low, murderous, “Thing—"

But her biting tone had no effect on the hand. He interrupted her once more, tapping out the same message over and over. 

She surged forward, intent on grabbing the hand and locking him in her drawer for the next week, but then she started paying attention to what he was saying, the message he was trying so hard to convey.

And once she properly received it, she was out of her chair in an instant, her ruined page already forgotten.

Wednesday moved through the maze of corridors like a shadow, footsteps swift and silent to avoid the attention of any roaming teachers. Whether Thing was following or even able to keep pace with her was irrelevant to her, his message was the only thing on her mind.

Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong.

It played on an incessant loop, making her heart pound against her chest with a vitality that threatened to break the surrounding ribs under its weight.

That vitality made her quicken her pace. When your dorm finally came into view, she slammed the door open with an urgency she would later consider humiliating.

Moonlight cascaded in through the window, cutting through the murky darkness of the night and providing Wednesday with just enough light to see the barest hint of her surroundings.

Dark eyes scanned the room for any immediate threats and when it became clear that there were no attackers or monsters lurking in the shadows, she took a breath and began to properly survey her surroundings.

Her gaze first caught on your desk, the stacks of books and papers neatly resting on top of it. Then your bed, unkempt and noticeably empty despite the early hour. And finally, she saw you, your normally vibrant form reduced to a shaking silhouette curled up beneath your window.

Wednesday took to languages very easily and the language your body spoke was no exception. Within months, Wednesday was able to read you with the same ease she did her favorite novels, spines slightly worn from use and pages annotated to absolute perfection.

So the calligraphy tucked in the tight furrow between your brows, the letters the light tremble in your shoulders scrawled, and the words the bags beneath your eyes printed for her were deciphered in moments.

And it all came together to definitively prove the hypothesis that began forming the moment she stepped foot into your dorm.

You had a nightmare.

This wasn’t the first time. Since that night when the school nearly burned down, it seemed to happen a lot. The incident had a firm grip on you, and it showed no signs of lessening, but it didn’t deter Wednesday any.

Because even now in the darkness, hugged tightly in the grasp of fear, you were luminescent.

Approaching slowly, she kneeled before you, caught your wide, teary eyes. Behind her, she heard the door shut softly, signifying Thing’s arrival, but she kept her attention solely on you.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

The question itself was a gamble. Many nights you would just shake your head and suffer in silence, leaving Wednesday to just be there with you and hope her presence brought forth some form of comfort. But it seemed tonight she got lucky.

“It was about the Hyde—Tyler. He…he ripped you apart, and I—” You choked on a sob, bringing both hands up to dig the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I just watched.”

She hummed lightly. Unsure of what to say, she lamented, “Sounds frightful. I wish I could’ve been there to see it.”

A wet laugh reached her ears, causing an effective stutter in the steady beat of her heart. Your hands were brought back to your knees, but you were still crying, still held firmly in the clasp of your dream. 

And despite her inherent discomfort, Wednesday wouldn’t stand for that.

Things like comfort and physical affection were your forte, not hers. But you were there for her in her darkest hour, unwavering during her torturously vulnerable time just after the defeat of Crackstone that she shuddered to think about even now.

When the weight of everything finally crashed down on her and threatened to shatter her into a million pieces, you were there to hold her together in soft but steady arms. So she would do the same for you.

Hesitant hands cupped your cheeks and rough thumbs wiped your tears in uncertain yet gentle strokes.

“Tell me what I can do for you,” she urged, attentive eyes looking for any legible signs to interpret.

“Just stay,” you whispered. “Please.”

She nodded. She was already wearing her sleepwear, so a change of clothes was unnecessary. The only thing left unattended was…

“Thing, go back to my dorm and throw the paper in my typewriter carriage out. I will rewrite it entirely tomorrow.”

Your face fell at her instruction, and Wednesday could read the lines of guilt clear as day in the fall of your shoulders and dip of your brow.

“If I’m interrupting your writing—"

“You’re not,” she injected sternly, moving one hand to grip your shoulder. “You asked me to stay, so you’re stuck with my torturous presence for the rest of the night. Whether you like it or not.”

The beginnings of a smile played on the edges of your lips, but before you could respond, Thing scurried up to your side and gave you an inquiring tap.

“Hey, buddy. Sorry, I ruined our sleepover. I’ll make it up to you I promise.” You extended a pinky down in his direction, which he promptly wrapped his own around. A pinky promise, if Wednesday wasn’t mistaken.

Usually, she would scoff at such childish affairs, but you were full-on smiling now, some of your usual vivacity seeping back in, so she let the moment pass without comment.

Her eyes followed Thing as he left. Sure, he had ruined her writing (something he would be punished for in due time), but he had admittedly done well to immediately notify her of what happened.

She would have to give him something, she decided. Maybe one of those scented lotions he was always trying to steal from the Jericho convenience store.

Once he was gone, she stood, tugging you up by your shirt sleeves and pulling you back to your bed. Gently, she shoved you down, and only once you were completely settled did she slip between your sheets and lay down next to you.

Crossing her arms, she raked her eyes over your tired form, lingering on the hand resting in the space between both of your bodies. Temptation, soft and sweet, pulled at her, but she stubbornly resisted.

“You won’t have to worry about your sleep being hindered anymore.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, exhaustion making your eyelids dip. “Why not?”

“I’ll steal your terrific dreams away for my own enjoyment,” she informed, lips quirking slightly. “I could use the pick me up.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet,” you teased. Wednesday shot you a sharp look at the flagrant slight to her character.

“Insult me like that again and night terrors will be the least of your worries.”

A chorus of sleepy laughs arose from your lips, and even with your eyes half-lidded and only the faint light of the moon to illuminate your features, Wednesday could see the fondness in your eyes. “Of course, Wends.”

She huffed, redirecting her gaze to the ceiling.

“Go to sleep, we have classes tomorrow.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. She barely had time to finish her sentence before your eyes closed again, breaths already beginning to even out.

Still, she waited minutes longer, until she knew you were deep within sleep’s embrace, to reach down and rest her hand over your outstretched one, curling her fingers lightly around yours.

Wednesday had never been one to hold superstitious beliefs of any kind. She made sure that her mind remained rooted in logic at all times, but she wanted to believe that this physical connection would somehow help transfer the horrors that plagued you to her.

So she then could keep the terror at bay and revel in it while you enjoyed whatever pleasantries your mind conjured in its place.

And if that didn’t work, then she would be more than happy to slay the demons that haunted your dreams with her bare hands if need be.

#her hair in this gif makes me giggle #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega

[cricket-reader]

Cricket-reader’s Recommendation List

A03 | Wattpad | Main Masterlist | Inbox

Series

Your Hands Have Made Some Good Mistakes by @thenhewaswrongaboutme

Two Sides of the Same Coin by @anonymityisfunwriter

Drifting by @real-jane

Anachronism by @Itbarnes

The Colliding Tides of You by @missmonsters2

Ruins by @littlemissmarvelous

unconventional methods by @marvelouslizzie

Misunderstandings by @preciousbarnes

past lives by @helvonasche

Safe with me by @bitsandbobsandstuff

Seeing Red by @mypoisonedvine

Oneshots

worth it. by @creativebeang

Shrapnel by @real-jane

You Drew Stars Around My Scars by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

How’s Your Head? by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Dear January by @writing-for-marvel

Redemption by @buckyalpine

Aching by @bbyboybucket

I Wanna Be Yours by @buckybabesonly

Warrior/Worrier by @delaber

the right partner by @bucky-bucket-barnes

From Your Smile to Your Soul by @orions-athenaeumficlibrary

Glutton for Punishment by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Purgatory by @wkemeup

The Color of Blood by @theidiotwhowritesthings

Protect me by @theeleggymeggy

Daffodils by @gaysindistress

The Ultimatum by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

The Rain is Always Gonna Come if You’re Standing With Me by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Love Hurts by @theeleggymeggy

Series

Sunshine, Starlight, Sweetheart, Brightside by @romanarose

Tales Untold by @softlyspector

Series

Trust Fall by @darsynia

Stolen by @theidiotwhowritesthings

Oneshots

Even Heroes Can't Always be Strong by @larcenywrites

Falling in Love by @larcenywrites

bad reputation by @imperialstark

Series

Beauty and the Snake Prince by @ijuststareatstuffhereok89

Oneshots

all i wanted by @andsheloved

Oneshots

Gifted Kid Burnout by @farfromstrange

Safe and Sound by @devils-dares

Kissmas Day 8 by @promptthebear

Emotional Support Teddy Bear by @farfromstrange

Series

holding them gently (these confessions) by @privateanxieties

You’ve Been Gone For So Long, Baby by @bellaxgiornata

Wake Up by @sunflowersandsapphires

Series

Nothing but the Truth by @anika-ann

#avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #avengers angst #avengers fluff #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #domestic avengers #bucky barnes fic #fic rec #marvel fic #bucky barnes fic rec #loki laufeyson #loki fic #moon knight fic #series recommendations #fanfic rec

[ginnsbaker]

Instead of editing the final chapter, I'm waiting for @missmonsters2 to drop Mirror Mirror CH2 because it has me on a chokehold and I can't be productive without this update T_T

#it's TUESDAY #must be patient like a good girl

[wastingmylifesecondatatime]

Avengers Masterlist

NOTE: If you have any fic suggestions feel free to write me!

Updated: 06.10.2023

(M) = mature

© = completed

Other masterlists: mother masterlist, Bucky Barnes masterlist

Avengers

(C) “I can go anywhere I want, just not home.” by @milf-cinematic-universe​

↳ “ You are a product of a HYDRA experiment. Years after being held captive by them, you are saved by SHIELD. You join the Avengers in hope of finding a family in them, but what are you supposed to do when they don’t treat you the way you expected them to?”

↳ Chapters: 1/1

Maria Hill

(C) Miscommunications by @lazydoodlesandfanfic​​​​​​​

↳ “ maria hill x reader where r has been sent on a several year long mission to infiltrate hydra. the avengers find her during a mission and end up bring her in (not knowing who she is). on the flight back they all question why she’s so quiet and smiling. when they reach shield they inform maria and fury of her presence in a cell (?) they all go to see the interrogation and find maria and r kissing and holding each other and fury just turns around to them and says “oh yeah they’re married” “

↳ Chapters: 1/1

Natasha Romanoff

(C) Late-Night Revelations by @goldenempyrean​​​​​​​

↳ “  Night is usually the time when you had free rein of the compound - little did you expect to be interrupted on your journey to get midnight snacks and certainly not by her. “

↳ Chapters: 1/1

(C) Zoom meetings by @wandaromanova​​​​​​​

↳ “ reader is doing an online class and nat wakes up and casually kisses reader’s cheek and everyone who saw it is freaking out because the black widow has a gf “

↳ Chapters: 1/1

Sam Wilson

(C) No Title 1 by @clayworldwanderer​​​​​​​

↳ “ Imagine Sam giving you hope when you’re having a hard time.“

↳ Chapters: 1/1

Steve Rogers

(C) No Title 1 by @professorrw​​​​​​

↳ “steve x reader one shot where the reader is heavily pregnant and her and Steve get on the subway and he's so confused as to why nobody is giving her a seat because he's so old fashioned?“

↳ Chapters: 1/1

Stucky

(C) Epiphany by @the-bau-quinjet​​​​

↳ “ Fury sends you back in time on a mission. How will you handle seeing Steve and Bucky in the 40s? “

↳ Chapters: 1/1

Wandanat

(C) No Title 1 by @missmonsters2​​​​​​​

↳ Chapters: 1/1

#avangers #marvel #fic rec #smut #angst #fluffy #x reader #bucky #iron man #tony stark #black widow #natasha romanoff #thor #bucky x reader #captain america #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bruce banner #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader