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just-aake · 4 months

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Holiday Teasings

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A festive new addition to Natasha’s usual outfit surprises all of those around her.

Warnings: fluff

Words: 1446

It was the holiday season, but that doesn’t mean work stops at the SHIELD headquarters. Even now, agents continue to tirelessly carry out their tasks and missions, the hallways bustling with conversation and hurried steps.

All of them trained to be efficient and timely with their duties. However, even the most experienced agents find themselves falling silent and stopping in shock at the sight that passes by them.

Normally, the presence of Black Widow would cause anyone to stare in awe, but today, the reason for such a pause is different.

Only those close to her or brave enough would ever dare to ask or comment about it though, as proven by Agent Hill when Natasha arrives at the door of today’s meeting room.

“Wow,” Maria exclaims, blinking in surprise as she examines the widow’s outfit. “What in the world are you wearing?”

“It’s just a sweater, Hill. Let’s not make a big deal about it,” Natasha says pointedly, crossing her arms, which only causes the bells at the cuffs of the sleeve to jingle in response.

Maria quickly raises her clipboard to cover her mouth, hiding her smile as she hums and nods in acknowledgment.

Natasha’s bright red sweater stands out amidst the typical dark SHIELD uniforms, easily capturing the curiosity of onlookers around her.

Had it been just a plain-colored sweater, maybe she wouldn’t attract as much attention.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

The design on the front depicts the classic suit of this holiday, complete with cotton fluff, a belt buckle, and jingling bells.

The two enter the meeting room together, and Maria continues her questioning.

“How long do you have to wear that?”

“Midnight,” Natasha responds as she takes her usual seat at the large conference table.

Steve comes in the door soon after, and after a brief pause of surprise, he gives his usual nod in greeting to the two and takes his seat beside her.

Natasha raises an amused brow at him.

“No comments?”

He shakes his head firmly.

“Nope, I know better.”

Immediately after his words, a figure comes rushing through the door.

“Oh my god, it’s true!” Tony exclaims gleefully. He shakes Bruce’s shoulders excitedly when the scientist enters the room.

“Quick, where is a matching hat to complete the outfit?”

Bruce brushes off his hand and distances himself from Tony when he sees the warning glare the Widow sends their way.

“Must have left it back at the lab,” Bruce responds nervously with a shrug before going to his seat.

Like Steve, besides a brief pause and a curious tilt of her head, Wanda does not comment on her attire when she enters.

After a moment, Sam strolls into the room, giving Natasha a grave look.

“You may need to check on your ride, Nat.”

Natasha straightens in her chair at his words, her brows pinching in confusion about who would ever mess with her motorcycle.

“What do you mean?”

Sam gestures over his shoulders, nodding seriously.

“Yeah, I just flew in from the roof, and I didn’t see your reindeers or sleigh anywhere.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and slumps back in her chair as Sam laughs at her reaction, patting her shoulder in jest before taking his seat.

Tony leans forward across the table excitedly.

“Oh, I have a question, and be honest with me here, Romanoff.” He pauses for a dramatic effect before saying teasingly.

“Am I on the naughty list?”

Natasha rolls her eyes and sighs in disgust, shooting him a deadpan glare.

Before she can respond, Natasha catches something at the corner of her eyes, and her glare swiftly turns to the Sokovian Avenger across the table, who fumbles with her phone in hand at the sudden attention.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Wanda gives her a sheepish smile, waving her phone lightly.

“I told Clint, and he asked if I could send a picture of you since he can't be here to see it.”

At her apologetic expression, Natasha sighs and waves her hand in resignation, giving Wanda permission.

Tony laughs and claps his hand in excitement at the sound her action makes, remarking, “Hey, can you shake your hands again? The bells really bring out the holiday spirit in here.”

Natasha is about to tell Tony where he can shove his holiday spirit when a stack of folders thrown against the table interrupts her, catching everyone’s attention.

Fury stands at the end of the table with a reprimanding expression.

“Alright, that’s enough. Let’s get this meeting started. No more jokes about Romanoff’s outfit.”

“Thanks, Fury,” Natasha says.

Without a beat of hesitation, he replies in his serious tone.

“Anytime, Santa.”

The whole room erupts into laughter, and the meeting ends up having to start much later after that comment.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Your phone chimes, signaling the end of your timer, and you go to the oven to check on your cookies.

Removing the tray of freshly baked cookies from the oven, you place it carefully on the table to cool off. Taking the baking gloves off your hand, you bend slightly to examine the baked treats to make sure that they are perfect.

As you straighten up, your back bumps into another body as familiar hands wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer.

“Mmm…those smell lovely,” Natasha compliments next to your ear.

You smile and lean into Natasha’s embrace, turning your head to greet her with a soft kiss on her cheek.

Natasha returns your affection, pressing a gentle kiss against your shoulder, before mumbling.

“It’s not even midnight, yet you’re already making my prize, makes me think you didn’t even plan on winning.”

You laugh lightly at her words before admitting.

“A deal’s a deal. Besides, I wanted to make some extra ones for you to bring in tomorrow too.”

Your hands fall atop hers, clasped around your front, as you play with the bells at the cuffs. The sound rings joyfully in your shared space.

“The others didn’t tease you too badly, did they?”

Natasha shrugs nonchalantly before responding.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“That’s good,” you reply, nodding your head.

As you get lost in her warmth, Natasha moves to take a cookie from the tray, but you notice and quickly slap her hand away lightly in a warning.

“No, they’re still hot,” you chastise her.

Natasha chuckles at you before turning you around in her arms and leaning in closer, her voice lowering to a tempting tone.

“Can I get my other prize while I wait then?”

With an amused smile, you cup her face and pull her in for a kiss.

Natasha’s arm tightens around you, pulling you closer in response and deepening the kiss.

After a moment, you pull back, your smile widening when Natasha tries to follow before stopping with a pout when you hold her face firmly in place to look into her eyes.

“By the way, Clint showed Laura and the kids a picture of you in the sweater, and they want you to wear it at their Christmas party this weekend,” you tell her.

“Will I get another reward if I wear this again?” Natasha says jokingly. She doesn’t need any more persuasion to wear the sweater again if it’s for the kids.

You tap your lips as if in fake contemplation before giving her a teasing smirk.

“Well, I did get you something that I think you will enjoy seeing me wear,” you say, leaning in close to her.

Natasha’s eyes glint in excitement before whispering against your lips.

“Yeah?”

Before she can bring you into another kiss, you pull away swiftly, turning around to check on the cookies.

“Guess we have to wait until after the party to see if you will get your prize,” you tease over your shoulder.

Natasha lets out an amused huff, shaking her head fondly at you, before sneaking a cookie from one of the piles that you’re making.

“Natasha!” You chastise with a small laugh.

She takes a purposeful bite of the cookie, wearing a victorious grin.

You roll your eyes fondly at her, then turn your attention to the piles of cookies in front of you.

Retrieving your already prepared festive goodie bags, each labeled with the names of your Avenger friends, you begin to separate and place them alongside the corresponding piles you’ve created.

When you finish, you clap your hands determinedly before declaring, “Alright, for each teasing comment they made to you today, they lose a cookie.”

Natasha’s grin widens in realization, and she gives you a quick kiss on your cheek, returning to her previous position of hugging you from behind before listing out the guilty parties.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: thank you for reading, hope you all have Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff

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familyvideostevie · 3 months

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you have me, you have me only

joel miller x reader you get (minorly) injured on patrol. joel does his best to patch you up and not worry too much. | jackson!joel, hurt/comfort, wound-patching, some blood, a jesse cameo, joel being joel, all that good stuff. | 4.2k a/n: part of the just and just as verse. not too soft but not too angsty, either. just another day after the end of the world, you know? thank you @mrsmando for your eyes on this! <3

___

"Almost there," you mutter. "Fuck."

The icy winter wind dulls the stinging in your palms to a numbness. The leather gloves you've had for half a decade stay tucked in your pockets. You don't want to ruin their lining with dirt and blood.

"How's the head?"

Jesse pulls up alongside you in a trot. The adrenaline from your patrol-gone-wrong pulses heavy at the top of your spine, your vision sharp and the whole world a little too loud around you as Jackson comes into view at the bottom of the hill. Your head, like the rest of you, throbs.

"I'll live."

He scoffs and his horse snorts as if agreeing with him. In truth, you're more pissed than injured, though it certainly looks like you lost a fight. Jesse's cheekbone will no doubt bloom purple tomorrow and his lip is still bleeding sluggishly. His jeans are splattered with gore, same as yours.

"Thanks for back there," he says.

You shrug and wince when it pulls at the skin of your side where you fell.

"You, too," you tell him with a grimace. "That was quick thinking with the brick."

You like him -- he's good at his job and he's a good friend to Ellie. You know Tommy and Maria are not-so-subtly training him to run this place someday if he wants to. As a patrol partner, you can't ask for much better. He knows all the routes and he's a good shot and his mom knows everything there is to know about everyone in town and sometimes he passes tidbits on to you.

But knowing your shit doesn't mean a damn thing in this world, sometimes. You can still get ambushed by infected on patrol and it can still fuck up your day.

He waves you off. "I just can't believe an elk chose our station to fucking die in."

"Tommy is going to shit himself when you tell him," you laugh. It pulls at your ribs. God, is there any part of you that didn't take a beating?

"He'll just be pissed he wasn't here."

Your horses reach the bottom of the hill and Jesse hesitates, the green scrap of cloth in his hand. The red one indicating an injured party peeks out from his pocket.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the clinic?"

"I'm fine," you say firmly. "I can patch up at home."

He eyes the cut on your forehead and your scraped palms but caves under your glare and waves the green flag.

"Joel makes the same face," he mutters. "Ellie does, too. Freaky."

The gates open and you grunt when you get off your horse, palms back to stinging.

"Joel's two expressions are pissed and annoyed," you say. “Not hard to pick one up.” You press the back of your hand to your forehead and it comes back tacky with blood. "Fuck."

"I don't think you'll need a stitch." Jesse holds his hand out for your patrol rifle and pats the neck of your horse. "I'll debrief and get these guys settled. You go home."

Normally, you'd protest. But you really just want to take a hot shower and sleep for twelve hours, so you nod and shoulder your pack carefully.

"Make sure you tell Tommy about beating a stalker to death with a brick," you call over your shoulder. "He'll be impressed."

Jesse laughs.

Snow crunches under your boots on the way home. Fuck, you're exhausted. The adrenaline fades with each step and the aches become sharp pains. There aren't too many people out today on account of the cold but you nod and wave, ignoring the double takes at the blood on your clothes.

It'll be a pain in the ass if you can't patch the ruined knees of your jeans. Maybe you can convince Joel to carve something for the woman down the street who can sew better than anyone in town. Finding new pants is damn near impossible.

You’re practically dragging your feet by the time you reach your house. The mailbox labeled Miller, the wind chimes gently swaying on the porch, all of it puts you at ease. You made it home.

The porch steps groan as you climb them and the front door opens from the inside as you reach the top. Joel steps out, hand still on the knob when he looks up and sees you. His eyes widen.

He was on patrol today, too. You left at the same time but he had a shorter route and must have gotten back a while ago.

"Are you coming to meet me?" you say with a grin that's genuine despite the way your body pulses with pain. He does this sometimes -- milling around the gate, chatting with people on the wall as he waits for you to return. You never really feel like you're home until you see his face.

Joel does not smile back. His eyes rake over you the same way he surveys a room, cataloging all of the important things. The gash on your temple, the rips in your jeans, the way you're favoring your left side. The blood, too -- it's everywhere, you're sure. Palms, knees, collar. Jesse helped you wipe your face before you rode back so that you could see without blood in your eyes, but you must look pretty fucking rough.

"Jesus," he says. His hand twitches like he's going to reach for you. "You okay?"

"I'll be better when I'm not standing out in the cold."

His nostrils flare and he heads back into the house, you on his heels. You dump your pack and sit down heavily on the bench to take off your boots. Joel beats you to it, lowering to one knee with a slight groan, fingers working at your laces.

Normally he'd ask how patrol was, how Jesse did, if you saw anything interesting. Instead, his cheek twitches like he's clenching his jaw so hard it hurts. He unties your double knots with practiced ease and his silence fills the entryway of your house.

In another life, the sight of him on one knee would set your heart aflutter. As it is, you want to run a hand through his hair and smooth the worry lines on his forehead. You know him and this is how he handles it -- he chews on blame that doesn't belong on his shoulders until he can fix it.

"I'm fine," you say softly. You open and close your hands, resting them on your knees. You got most of the gravel out but there's dirt and god knows what else embedded in the tender flesh. Joel pulls off one boot with a firm hand on your calf and then the other before finally looking up at you.

"You wanna explain...this, then?"

His hand waves up in your general direction. There's no tremble in his palm but his brows are furrowed, his shoulders set in that way of his, like he's bracing for bad news. You have a rule about not lying to each other. So if you say you're fine, you're fine. Achey, bloody, and gross, sure. But you made it home in one piece and now you'll let him take care of you and he has to be okay with that.

But you don't mind reassuring him. He worries, and you know the feeling.

You shrug and fail to hide your wince. Joel wraps a hand around your ankle and squeezes lightly.

"I've had worse," you say. "I'll tell you about it if you patch me up."

He softens a little and sighs. It won't do anything to remind him that he can't go back in time and stop you from getting hurt. Joel knows he can't fix everything, can't keep everyone he loves away from harm, can't save the world. Won't, if it comes at the expense of the people in his heart.

But you can give him something to do -- a way to make it better. You could probably bandage your hands and your forehead and the rest on your own but it'll help him just as much as you if he does it.

Life in this world is a constant give and take. You have to be okay with some things, with cuts and bruises and ruined clothes if it means you survived. There's no safety, not anymore.

"Alright, c'mon," he says, standing with a groan. "Upstairs, 'fore you bleed on the furniture."

He holds out a hand for you to stand but you show him your mangled palm. Joel clicks his tongue and grips your forearm gently instead as you rise.

"Gotta clean that," he says.

"That's the plan." You leave your coat and pack behind in a heap and head for the stairs. "A hot shower sounds so fucking good right now."

Joel stops you with a hand on your elbow and you turn on the bottom step. He traces the cut on your forehead with light fingers and you try not to wince.

"Shower," he says. "I'll patch you up after." His tone leaves no room for argument.

You ghost your fingertips along his jaw and smile at him.

"Yes sir, Mr. Miller, sir."

More tension melts from his shoulders and he rolls his eyes at you. You laugh all the way to the bathroom, even though it hurts a little.

It's been a while since one of you returned from patrol with any sort of injury. Winter means the hoards are sluggish and easy to track and tends to keep groups of people from coming to the valley and making trouble. Today was bad luck and could have been much worse.

You both know how quickly all of the good in your lives can be snatched away. Everyone does.

But you just can't dwell on it. Joel knows it, too, and letting him fuss over you in that way of his will remind him. You're home. You're okay.

You leave the bathroom door cracked as you shower under the gentle spray. Your various injuries sting but you manage to clean the scrapes on your knees and hands and wash the blood from your skin and hair, the water rusty brown as it swirls around the drain.

Joel knocks when you're almost done and the hinges groan when he steps into the bathroom.

"Leavin' you clothes," he says, voice raised so you hear over the spray. "You okay?"

"Still alive," you call back. "Almost done."

The water starts to turn lukewarm so you switch off the stream and drag back the curtain. Joel is nowhere to be found but he's left you loose shorts so your knees are exposed and a big, faded graphic t-shirt that you brought home for him as a joke last year as well as fresh underwear and warm socks. You gently pat your skin dry with an old and scratchy towel and do your best with your hair before sliding them on.

Joel knocks again and this time he has the bag with all of your first aid stuff in his hands. The steam from your shower rushes out into your bedroom and you shiver.

He jerks his chin at the counter. "Wanna get up there?"

You haul yourself up with a groan and he stands between your knees, arms crossed and head cocked.

"What're we dealin' with, here?"

You look down at your messy palms and rattle off what hurts.

"Cut on my forehead, bruised rib, probably, fucked up hands and knees, and..." You look up and find Joel running a hand down his face. "That's it."

"You sure?"

You glare at him. He glares back. His eyes drift to your forehead gash.

"Cut could use a stitch."

He's still tense, you can tell, probably will be until he wakes up tomorrow and you're still next to him in bed. Until the wounds turn to scabs turn to scars. Maybe not even then.

"I think I've had enough cuts over the years to know what needs a stitch."

His eyebrows rise just a little bit, turning his expression from interrogative to exasperated, but he knows better than to tell you to do something when you’ve set your mind against it.

"They're offerin' medical degrees on the Creek Trails, now?"

"Joel."

He holds his hands up in surrender. "Fine," he says. "Let me feel your ribs."

You raise your arms a little and he slides his palms under your shirt and up your torso, pressing gently as he goes. Braless as you are, he brushes the underside of your breast, and your breath hitches. His eyes are soft with quiet amusement but he doesn't tease you.

"Your hands are warm," you murmur. He reaches the place on your side that took the brunt of the impact and you hiss.

"Sorry," he says. "Doin' real good. Deep breath for me." You obey and he withdraws, satisfied.

"Nothin' broken," he says.

"Told you."

He hums and pulls out the precious few disinfectant wipes from your first aid kid. You can get Joel to do a lot of things just by asking, but arguing with him about wasting supplies on you never works. He washes his hands in the sink and glares are you like he knows what you’re thinking.

"Forehead first, then hands, then knees," he says. "Okay?'

You nod, eyes fluttering shut. He grips your face with gentle fingertips to keep you still.

"How was your patrol?" you ask him.

He makes a noise low in his throat that's halfway to being a laugh.

"C'mon," he says. "You don't want to hear about mine. I know you're dyin' to tell me what happened."

The alcohol wipe stings as he swabs at your forehead and you tense. Joel's thumb rubs slow circles at the corner of your mouth and you press your knees into his hips.

Funny how you've had broken bones, been stabbed, shot, pretty much everything over the last twenty years but it's the small stuff that hurts the most. Stubbed toes, sliced fingers, alcohol wipes on shallow wounds. Some things just don't change.

"Okay," you say. "Well, you'll never believe it, but a damn elk decided to die in the station where the logbook is."

You tell him how you and Jesse rode up and saw the blood trail immediately and heard the moans and groans. You kept the horses on the other side of the fence and checked the first floor and the overlook, but the elk had weaseled its way under the collapsed staircase.

It smelled like death, rust and decay heavy in the air. The animal must have died just after the last patrol.

But it wasn't the problem. It was the group of Infected it attracted -- two runners and four stalkers. You have no idea where they came from but, since you were on patrol, the priority was eliminating them. The runners were easier, although one of them was responsible for the gash on your forehead when it managed to push you into the wall. You and Jesse cleared them quickly, one bullet each.

You thought you got all of the stalkers. One of them was munching on the carcass and went down fairly easily with your good aim. Jesse helped you clean your forehead so you both could clear the passage to get to the upper level and sign the logbook. The corpses went over the side of the station into the forest below. The Infected had eaten so much of the elk that it wasn't too heavy, though you both were sweating and dirty by the time you finished.

"Lemme guess," Joel says. You open your eyes as he carefully pulls the wound closed with two butterfly bandages before he gestures for your hand. He holds your wrist gently and tilts your palm side to side, looking for dirt. "There were infected inside the station, too."

"Look at you," you tease. His eyes flick to yours for just a second, intense as always. "It's like you were there."

"Smartass," he grumbles. The disinfectant stings on your palm, too, but you keep talking and keep your gaze on his face.

"Jesse climbed the rope up to the control room first but had to fend off a stalker at the top so he didn't see when another one grabbed my ankle and pulled me down mid-climb, which fucked my hands. The fall is how my rib got bruised and I tore up my knees fending it off."

Joel's cheek twitches. He wraps one of your palms in gauze and turns his attention to the other.

"Fuckin' hate those things."

"Me, too. When I got to the top, finally, Jesse was tugging a pipe from the head of a corpse. There was one more -- it jumped out of that supply room on the side, the one where Ellie found a bong, once, I think. I dodged it but my gun jammed and my hands were bleeding."

"Should've been wearing gloves."

You tap his leg with your foot and ignore him. Not taking your bait about the bong means he’s still pissed. "And then Jesse killed it with a brick."

"I taught him that," Joel grumbles.

He ties off your other palm and as soon as he's done you frame his face. Joel allows it, allows you to stare at him for a few seconds like you're memorizing him. You're telling the story like it was a fun adventure -- and it was. You're plenty capable and he knows it, too.

But you were scared. You don't tell him that right now, instead grounding yourself in the man in front of you. His hands are rough and dangerous to most, but tender and careful to you. The broad, firm line of his shoulders, always braced for the next hit.

The gash on the bridge of his nose, the lines at the corners of his eyes. His beard, greyer every year. You swipe your thumbs along his cheekbones and he sighs.

"Lucky me," you say softly.

You lean in to kiss him, just a light press of your lips to his. His wide palms rest on your bare thighs and he kisses back with a kind of desperate firmness, as if he's proving to himself that you're real. That you're here in front of him, under his hands, in his care.

Joel drags his lips along your cheek.

"Knees," he says.

He steps back and releases your thighs with a squeeze. He treats more of your torn skin, a frown back on his face.

"I do want to hear about your patrol, by the way."

He shrugs. "Not much to tell," he says. "Didn't even get to shoot anythin’.”

You swing your foot back and forth, tapping the side of his thigh with every pass.

"But you had the nice route," you whine. "Tell me what the lake looked like."

"Quit distracting me," he grumbles.

"Like you don't have the steadiest hands in all of Jackson," you say softly.

He snorts. "Are you flirtin' with me?"

"I'm always flirting with you, Joel Miller."

You lied to Jesse earlier -- Joel has hundreds of expressions. He just keeps most of them for you. For Ellie, and Tommy, too. You know every one of them by now.

The look on his face now says he's thinking about kissing you again, maybe just to shut you up.

You grin at him. "Tell me about your patrol, now, seriously. Unless talking and using your hands at the same time is too much for you."

He smirks back. "Think we both know that ain't true."

"Now who's flirting?"

Lazy heat curls in your belly but fatigue stops it from turning into anything. Joel must see that in your eyes because he simply taps your chin with a knuckle and starts talking.

You start to slump as his Texas drawl wraps around you. He tells you how the lake was still, how he and Astrid saw bear tracks but no bear. How he found a tape for Ellie that he's going to give her tomorrow, how he wore his gloves today like you've been telling him to.

Some people might say that Joel is a man of few words. You thought he was the quiet type when you first met him, another stoic survivor in a world that demands hardness of everyone. But not shy, never shy. Just...waiting. Watching.

He and Ellie can shoot the shit for hours -- a dynamic they've fallen back into easily enough since they started spending time together again. He's funny, he's clever, he's annoying as shit when he wants to be.

And Joel is quite the storyteller. If you had to guess you'd say it comes from having to entertain Tommy when they were kids, from getting Sarah into bed on his own over and over. Keeping Ellie occupied, keeping her talking when things were scary and hard and fucking awful.

It's just another way he takes care of people.

"Still with me?" he says. You realize your eyes have closed. When you open them you find Joel looking at you with tenderness and a spark of amusement. The tense line of his shoulders is nowhere to be seen. "All done. Tired?"

"And hungry."

He washes his hands and throws away the various wrappers and blood-stained wipes.

"Sure you're awake enough to eat?" he teases.

You roll your eyes at him. He laughs.

"Joel," you say, catching his elbow. "Thank you."

"C'mon, now."

He looks like he wants to argue with you for saying it but reaches for you instead. He traces the cut on your forehead just like he did at the bottom of the stairs, brow drawn again. You can't tell what he's thinking as he drags his thumb down and around your eye, cupping your cheek fully for just a breath before releasing you and stepping towards the door.

"I'll heat some soup."

Dinner is quick and quiet, your energy sapped from you to the point of exhaustion. Everything aches, despite Joel's thorough care. When he suggests turning in early you don't protest.

He takes longer than you to get ready for bed. You slide under the worn duvet and wait, trying very hard to keep your eyes open. Your bruised ribs throb in time with your heartbeat and when Joel finally turns off the light and gets in bed next to you in his threadbare sleep pants he practically hauls you into his embrace.

You go willingly, tangling your legs and laying your head on the juncture of his neck and shoulder. You press your palm to his chest, fingers threading in the coarse hair. His heart thuds and it grounds you.

"I didn't get any good gossip off Jesse," you whisper. "On account of the whole surprise-infected thing."

He yawns. "S'pose it's a good excuse."

"Can I tell you something else?" you whisper. "A secret?"

Joel hums, lips brushing your temple as his hand snakes up your sleep shirt to press against your lower back.

Even though you know each other down to the bones, some things remain inexplicable. Parts of your pasts that linger in the darkest parts of you, the parts that stay shrouded until the moments like this. You don't have to be brave in the quiet hours of the night, entwined with him as you are. It's the safest place you'll ever be. Safe enough that you can crack open and let Joel in, let those steady and worn hands keep you together.

"I was scared today," you say into his neck. "When the stalker dragged me off the rope. I panicked, I --"

You don't tell him how your initial thought when you hit the ground was of him, how you closed your eyes tight and thought of your name from his mouth, of his smile when you come through the door. The stalker had its bony fingers digging into your ankle and you wondered if you'd ever feel Joel's hands on you again.

Death will come for you sooner or later and when it does it'll be Joel's face that you hold in your mind before it all ends.

But today, you kicked death until its stupid fucking mushroom skull caved in.

Joel presses his lips to your temple. You can feel his heart beating faster, as fast as yours. It's the only thing that betrays his own fear.

Wounds in this life often go deeper than the skin. When Joel comes home with bloody knuckles and shuttered eyes it's one thing to stop the bleeding, to bandage him and get him to eat something. It's another to hold him, to coax out the story, the fear. To follow him downstairs when he has a nightmare, to look for him in every room. It's all part of what you do as partners, as lovers, as people in this world. You take care of each other.

Neither of you can fix a lot of things. But you can ensure the scars heal into something light, something you can barely see.

You can hold each other in the dark.

"Scared me, too," he rasps. A secret for a secret. "Lotta damn blood."

You kiss the underside of his jaw. "Can't get rid of me that easy."

Joel pulls you closer, somehow, mindful of your side.

"Rest, now," he says. "You ain’t goin' anywhere."

It's a command, a promise. You hum your agreement and let sleep drag you under.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #just and just as

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nataliasquote · 18 days

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Is It All For Nothing? | n romanoff

Summary: You just want a friend. Is that so bad? How is it fair that everyone else gets one but you. What did you do that was so wrong?

Warnings: idk. just depressing stuff ig

Pairings: none. a small bit of Nat x reader but all platonic

wc: 1.3k

notes: I wrote this in 45 mins in one sitting. It’s written in a different pov than usual and idk if it even makes sense. I just typed and didn’t stop until I was done 🤷‍♀️ the idea just came to me and yeah :)

-⧗-

Frankly, being on the sidelines sucked. Everyone knew it yet no matter how many times someone engaged in small talk to be polite or proclaimed they were there to talk to everyone, somehow you were always left out.

It didn’t matter where you were, loneliness followed like a dormant disease. High school sucked, you were a nobody, but thankfully those years were in the past. But your fifteen year old self didn’t realise that your isolation would carry right on over into your adult life.

And sure, it wasn’t all bad. The nights spent chatting with new friends you’d made that day left you on an all time high, but that just made the fall that much harder. And when the low inevitably came, you could only laugh at yourself at your naivety, because why would things suddenly change? You weren’t someone people stuck around for.

Unfortunately, Shield agents were no different. Those in your cohort were nice enough to say hi in the hallway or invite you into group conversations. A couple even chatted with you over lunch. But you knew they only did it because they felt bad. You saw the difference in their demeanor; you were a spy for god’s sake. They were so much happier with their friends, and that didn’t include you, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself it did.

There was one agent who’s attention toyed with you that little bit more. Natasha Romanoff was a couple of ranks higher, both in social and training status. But she was always kind, no matter what. You conversed whilst waiting for your training session, mainly her listening as you talked. She was sweet, despite her intimidating facade and before long she had you completely wrapped around your little finger.

For a month, you both chatted any chance you got. If you saw her in the cafeteria, you’d make a beeline for her table, smiling at the other agents as you sat down. She responded to you, her eyes holding yours as you spoke, seeming actually interested in what you had to say. She would joke with you, calling you out with a laugh which sent a flush to your cheeks. You didn’t care what she said, she was talking to you. That’s all that mattered. Maybe this was where your life changed for the better. Evenings that followed those days would be blissful and you would fall asleep with a smile on your face, feeling on top of the world all because of the redheaded Russian.

However, as the weeks went on, days would go by with no contact. At first you just thought she was going on more missions; that was her job after all. But then you’d see that flash of red hair in a meeting room or one of the agents talking about something Natasha had said earlier and it hit you sharply in the throat.

Was she just like everyone else? Playing the pity card, building you up only to leave you hanging once she got bored? Natasha didn’t seem like that kind of person, but had essentially placed her on a pedestal, so of course she could do no wrong. That was your downfall.

Emerging from a debrief with Maria Hill, you tucked a stack of files under your arm and stepped out into the hallway. And there she was, a soft smile on her lips. You reciprocated it and made eye contact, opening your mouth to speak. You hadn't spoken in a few days and you hated to admit it, but you missed her.

But Natasha clearly didn’t feel the same. Her eyes caught yours and then darted to the floor, her feet picking up the pace as she walked past. “I’m sorry Y/n, I’m busy today. We’ll talk later.”

Except she wasn’t busy. Because there she was, standing at the end of the hall laughing with another agent in your cohort. It shouldn’t have been, but it was like a punch to the stomach and you quickly turned around, retreating back into the room you’d left to avoid her seeing you watching her.

You knew that agent. They were friends, everyone saw it. And she was nice enough to you too, but jealousy coursed through your veins and turned you into a green eyed monster.

What did she have that you didn’t? Besides the ability to win Natasha over, obviously. Every single interaction you’d had with the redhead suddenly started replaying in your mind, frantically scanning to see what went wrong. Did you overstep? Were you too pushy? Too clingy? You just wanted a friend, was that so hard to understand? Was it so bad to want?

You thought about texting her, but decided against it. You didn’t want to know the answer. What if your worst fears were confirmed? That she only spoke to you out of pity, and quite frankly didn’t want anything to do with you.

It hurt. It really did. Countless times you wished that she was the one that would change your bad history of making friends. Because when you were around Natasha, nothing else mattered. The days of no contact slipped out of your mind. You’d forgive her for anything in a heartbeat… maybe that was the problem.

You thought the world of her. And she saw that. ‘Never meet your heroes’ that’s what they say, isn’t it? And maybe she wasn’t quite at hero status for you, but you looked up to her. Praising her work when she returned from a successful mission, commenting on the ingenious moves she made to lead her team to victory. She was everything you wanted to be as an agent, with one seriously important factor.

Everyone loved her.

Everyone loved her, and nobody knew you. She was the prize rose and you were behind, stuck in her shadow. They didn’t see you as anyone but the agent who sucked up to Natasha. They didn’t see how hard you worked, how many hours you trained, how much effort you put in. And they never would. Because it was too much. You were a try hard.

A try hard in a room full of effortless people.

Effortless just like that other agent was. She’d been rumoured to move up into Natasha’s ranks and onto her mission team, leaving you struggling in the lower levels. It felt almost childish, yearning after the attention of one single person. But no matter how hard you tried, or how casual you tried to be, Natasha would never see you as anything other than a fan girl.

You knew she was capable of giving you what you desired, you saw it with that other agent. The way they laughed together, developed inside jokes and anecdotal phrases that they brought up in group discussions. You saw the way Natasha’s eyes lit up at the mention of her name, how she gushed over her but also teased her at the same time. Their effortless banter had you choking back tears as you sat one table over, watching with blurry eyes.

You wanted that so badly it hurt.

But if you stopped trying, stopped reaching out, stopped lusting after the perfect friendship you so badly craved with her, would she notice? Or would you fade into the background, silently, without a word. Maybe she would be happy, now that you’re no longer bugging her.

Maybe it’s for the best.

#natasha romanoff #marvel #fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff imagine #friendship angst #marvel angst #black widow #natasha romanoff fanfic #scarlett johansson

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arlana-likes-to-write · 4 months

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Not Like I'm in Love with You

Summary: For the longest time, it was you and Maria. A package duo. A dynamic team. Agent Hill and Gaia. But you were always just friends, nothing more. Until a mission goes wrong forces Maria to admit her feelings for you.

Warnings: jealously, angst with a happy ending, surgery, medically induced coma, bomb, eco terrorist?, reader is enhanced, mention of drinking and sexual activity, love confession

Word Count: 5.2k

“My savior,” Natasha groaned as you handed the redhead a coffee and a breakfast sandwich. She moaned, taking a sip of the coffee. “I could marry you right now.” You shook her head at her antics and passed the rest of the goodies to the team. Clint had his feet on the table and head thrown back, and a pair of sunglasses covered his eyes. He grunted out a thanks when he set his order down. The rest of the team was in different states of hungover, barely muttering a greeting. You chuckled.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have gone out on a school night,” you teased, sitting down at your desk so you could eat your own. Clint groaned.

“You aren’t my mom,” You felt like it.

“Where’s the boss?” You questioned.

“Probably untangling herself from the blonde she went home with,” May mumbled, holding a cold towel to her forehead. Why did your stomach drop when she said that? The team had the right to party after a job well done. The case had a breakthrough, and they wanted to go out. Like always, you refused, you weren’t much of a drinker, and you didn’t trust yourself drunk with your abilities. You were an Eco-empathy, allowing you to connect deeply with the environment and sense, understand, and manipulate the natural world. SHIELD nicknamed you Gaia, and your fellow agents called you various Earth-related names. You and Maria were just friends, right? When Fury picked her as Deputy Director, she prompted you alongside her. You were her second in command; while she went out in the field, you stayed behind to run point. It was how you two operated a well-oiled machine. Co-workers. Best friends at most. Like you’ve been, right? Natasha raised an eyebrow at you.

The door opened, and Maria walked in. “Ah, she emerges from her walk of shame,” Natasha teased. Maria flipped her off and thanked you with a smile for her breakfast.

“Ain’t nothing shameful what I did last night,” Natasha cringed. Thankfully, Maria’s back was to you, so she missed the frown on your face. The redhead saw it. “Alright,” she said. “What’s the plan?”

“You missed a hell of a party,” Maria said as you handed your mock battle plan for the upcoming mission. It would go through her than Fury before it was green lite; the more eyes, the better when it came to people’s lives.

“All these years you’ve known me, you know clubs aren’t my scene,” you sat on the edge of her desk. There was a picture of you and her during your SHIELD graduation. “Besides, how long were you there until an innocent woman fell under your spell?” You teased, but it didn’t feel enjoyable in your mouth.

“She wasn’t so innocent when I had my way with her,” you faked a gag. It was typical behavior between you two to talk about the woman you brought home; more times than not, Maria had the stories. But why did you feel like you could throw up right now?

“I can tell by that hickey on your neck,” you pushed the bruise, and she squatted your hand away. She was your ride-or-die. So you weren’t jealous.

“What is your schedule like today?” You sighed, looking at your nails on your left hand.

“Leading a training with May, a meeting with Phil, and I think Clint wants to go over some new trick arrows,” you rattled off. It was a typical busy day for you. Maria nodded.

“Do you want to go get lunch? We could go to that Mexican place you like.” That sounded nice, and you liked the burritos and mock tails they had. You sighed.

“How about a ring check? Nat asked if I could get lunch with her today,” Maria liked to joke that you made her soft. She rarely held up the mask to hide her emotions around you. There was no need. Now you saw the mask slowly creep up to hide her true feelings.

“Yeah, of course, she forced a smile. “Now get out of here before I write you up,” she teased. Rolling your eyes, you jumped off her desk.

“See you later, Ria.”

“Stay safe out there, Willow.” You rolled your eyes at the nickname but her office to start your day.

“You love her,” Natasha said as you took a bite of your sandwich. You choked on it, and the Black Widow smirked at your misfortune. You rubbed your chest to help the food pass and took a sip of water.

“I have no idea what the hell you are talking about,” she took a fry from your plate and popped it in her mouth.

“Please, Cherry, you’ve been in love with Maria since I’ve known you, and according to Phil, it’s been since the academy,” you gasped.

“Why is this office gossip?” You asked.

“We have to talk about something,” she shrugged. SHIELD agents were moths to a flame when it came to gossip. “Don’t worry, we won’t discuss it with Maria.” That was not reassuring.

“Look, Maria and I are friends. We have been forever; the way I feel is black and white.” You were curious to know if Natasha believed you. Hell, you barely believed yourself. It wasn’t like you stayed up at night overthinking the possibility of you and Maria has a couple. Nah, that would be dumb.

“Are you sure?” Yeah, it was fine. It was cool. It wasn’t like every time she talked about having sex with some random hookup at a bar, it made your stomach burn with jealousy because you wanted her body all to yourself. You wanted her more than anyone else. It’s not like you were in love with her.

“Shit,” you mumbled, slumping back into her hair. Natasha smiled, sipping on her chocolate milkshake.

“Glad you admitted it,” you hadn’t admitted anything. What was she talking about? “So, are you going to tell her?”

“No!” You shrieked, and you drew the attention of the other patrons. You felt your body warm up due to the extra eyes. Natasha chuckled. “God, no. I can’t. It will ruin everything. Besides, I doubt she feels the same.”

“She does.” The Black Widow glanced at the watch on her wrist. “Shit, we have to get back.” It was supposed to be a quick lunch because Fury called for an emergency meeting. You nodded, throwing your half-eaten food in the bag to take with you. “You know,” Natasha held open the door for you as you walked onto the busy DC sidewalks. “You should tell her. You both could be happy.” She said it as if it was easy and not scary. It’s not like you were losing your mind thinking about her in your bed. It started slow, but like dominoes, you started free-falling with no control. You were doing a shit job at hiding it if your friends knew the truth. It’s not like you were in love with her.

“I’m going on this mission,” you said, a little surprised.

“Yes,” Fury said, his arms behind his back and one good eye trained on you. “Your skill set is what this mission needs. Is that a problem?”

“No sir,” you said without hesitation. You kept up to date on your physical and firearm certification, and you met with SHIELD’s psychologist. You were always mission-ready when the time called for it, but it never did. You glanced at Maria, who was oddly quiet. Her face was in a permanent frown. But you couldn’t worry about her now; you had a mission to lead.

Maria found you in the locker room, tackle suit around your waist, and you were holding your dad’s dog tags in your hand. It was your good luck charm. “Want me to put it on you?” She asked. You nodded, handing her the necklace. Carefully, she placed the chain around your neck and locked it. The cold metal caused goosebumps to cover your shin. “I don’t like you going on this mission without me.” She admitted and sat down next to you on the bench. You chuckled.

“You’ll be watching my back,” you looked over your shoulder. “No, you’ll know how I feel every time you run off into danger.” You tried to make light of the situation, but there was a frown on your face. “Here,” you removed the necklace and placed it around her.

“What are you doing?” She asked. “You never go anywhere without it.”

“I don’t need it,” you said. “I got you watching my back. That’s all the luck I need.” Maria was quiet. It was unsettling for her to be quiet. “Ria, we got this. I get this. I’ve learned from the best, so I’ll be the best.” She laughed, and you were glad you could pull a sound out of her.

“Just-”

“Clover,” May walked in and cut Maria off. “We are all set, just waiting for you.” You told me you’d be there in 5 and turned your attention back to Maria.

“Just stay safe out there, Willow.” You wondered what she was going to say if she wasn’t interrupted.

“I’ll see you later, Ria,” you smiled. “Promise.”

You learned to listen to your gut instinct. It was your most valued tool as an agent. Even when you ran point back at headquarters, you listened to it when your stomach tightened with anxiety as you sat in the wooded area that surrounded the factory. This factory was responsible for releasing toxins into the air. Usually, this type of case wouldn’t gather attention from SHIELD, but the damage they were doing to the environment was affecting the locals: memory loss, muscle spasms, and strange hallucinations. The problem was that it was impossible to locate the idiots responsible for the mess. You could feel the environment dying in this area. May place a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay? She asked. You nodded, unable to open your mouth. You let out a few shaky breaths, trying to loosen the anxiety knot in your stomach, and tapped on the com in your ear.

“How are we looking?” You asked.

“They are about to make the guard change,” hearing Maria’s voice helped calm you down. “Are you doing okay, Willow? Your heart monitor is spiking.” You rolled your eyes and bit back a huff of annoyance. It was Phil’s idea to add pulse and heart detectors into the suit.

“Yeah, they’ve caused a lot of damage to this area. It’s making me all jittery,” you admitted.

“We’ll stop them,” this time it was Natasha’s voice through the coms. The Black Widow was recovering from a shoulder injury that left her benched until it was healed. You lead the team with Clint, May, and a handful of qualified agents.

“Shift change is in 3,” you put on your gas mask. “2 and 1. Stay safe, agents.” That feeling remained in the pit of your stomach. Anxiety, dread. You needed to figure out why. You moved through the building with ease and worked towards the control room. It was your, May’s, and two other agents’ job to turn off the factory while Clint protected the outside in case the alarm was tripped.

“We made it to the control room,” May said.

“Perfect, insert the flash drive. It should take 5 minutes to shut down the factory and copy the information they have on it.” Maria explained. May pushed the rolling chair out of the way.

“Go stand guard,” you ordered the other two agents. They obeyed and went into the hallway. The mission was almost over, so why were you so anxious? When May inserted the flash drive, an alarm went off, and metal walls trapped May and you inside the room.

“Houston,” your friend said. “We have a problem.” The room began to shake as a trap door opened, and a bomb rose from the floor. The red numbers clicked down from 10 minutes.

“Houston,” you repeated, and you took off the gas mask. “We have a bigger problem.”

“Turn on your cameras,” you turned on your body camera and heard the sharp intake of Maria’s breath.

“Guys, we have multiple heat signatures heading towards the factory,” Phil said. You walked over to the bomb, staring at the mysterious liquid.

“Barton, pull back. Gather all agents to the secondary position,” you pulled your hand back, clutching your hand against your chest—a fertilizer bomb.

“Willow, what is it?” Maria asked. You glanced at May; you knew she saw the panic in your eyes.

“It’s a fertilizer bomb,” you admitted. “Big enough to take out the factory and the surrounding bomb.”

“Fucking hell,” you heard Natasha mumble.

“May-”

“Already on it,” she cut off Maria as she rapidly typed at the control panel, trying to disarm the bomb.

“All agents have made it to the secondary location. Just need you two.” Yeah, that was going to be a problem. The sound of your team frantically discussing how to disarm the bomb became white noise. You walked the room length, gliding your hand over the metal wall. To your surprise, you felt pieces of earth within the metal sheets. Of course! All you had to do was focus on the impurities within the metal. You let out a shaky breath and concentrated. The metal moved underneath your palm.

“I have an idea,” you said suddenly.

“Am I going to like this idea?” Maria questioned. Probably not. You took your normal stance, feet shoulder length apart and knees bent slightly. You put your hands together, and then your palms faced the metal walls. Slowly, you began miming as if trying to rip something apart. At first, nothing happened. Beads of sweat trickled down your neck. Finally, the metal started to crumble and pull apart. A small doorway appeared. You fell to one knee, chest heaving. May ran to your side.

“That was wild,” she said. “I don’t know you could do that.” You chuckled as she helped you to your feet.

“Neither did I.”

“Nice work. No, get out of there,” Maria said. You quickly turned off your body camera and your and May’s com.

“You’re staying, aren’t you?” She asked.

“I think I can contain the blast.”

“You think?” It wasn’t an exact science, and you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to contain it.

“Go,” you told her. You had to try. If not, so many people would die, including your team. Your friend hesitated but took off towards the exit. You faced the bomb and turned on your com again. There were four and a half minutes left.

“Why aren’t you leaving with May?” Maria questioned. You took a shaky breath and retook your stance. “Willow, it’s just me and you. What are you doing?”

“I gotta try, Ria,” your voice strained with exhaustion, arms shook at each metal wall you bent around the bomb. “If I don’t, hundreds if not thousands of people are gonna die.” You said. It was your responsibility to get your team home and protect the innocents in the area. Maria whispered your name. It was so rare that someone said your real name it took you by surprise. The bomb was fully wrapped in metal, but you were exhausted already. “You got my lucky charm, right?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I got it.”

“Good, good,” you mumbled, digging your feet into the metal floor. “I’ll see you later, Ria. I promised, didn’t I?” There was so much more you wanted to say. A three-word sentence danced on your lips, but you held it back. It wasn’t fair to her to say it now. Each nerve in your body was vibrating. Every breath you took burned. You sent a silent prayer to your father as the explosion rocked your body. You held the metal to contain it. A scream left your lips as it became too much, and your world went black.

Maria knew she had this aura that surrounded her. An aura that screamed authority. It told newer agents not to fuck with her. She knew she was good at what she did and wanted everyone to know that. As she walked to the med bay with Natasha close by, she was murderous. Rationally, she knew it was no one’s fault. It was par for the course when it came to this line of work, but she needed someone to blame and push guilt onto someone. May was resting in a chair with an ice pack on her head. She looked up when she heard the approaching footsteps. “She’s still in surgery,” she mumbled, and Natasha sat beside her. “Doctors are worried about the amount of blood she lost and the toxins that entered her lungs.” A heat of anger washed over Maria, but she tried to push it down.

“May, go shower and eat,” Maria ordered. Her voice strained. She saw the protest form in the agent’s eyes. “That’s an order.” You risked your life to save her and the rest of your team. It would do no one good if May stopped taking care of herself. “That’s an order.” May sighed.

“Yes, Hill.” She stood up and left. Maria took a seat in her spot, elbows resting on her knees.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Natasha asked. Maria refused to look away from the wall she was staring at.

“I need her to be okay,” Maria admitted.

“Is this why you wrote her out of every mission?” The Black Widow questioned. Maria slowly leaned back and looked at the redhead. “Come on, Hill, it was obvious. With her on the field, missions would be over in half the time, but you didn’t want to risk her getting hurt.” Maria remained silent. “Now, why would you do that?” Her eyes locked onto Natasha’s green ones; there was no judgment like she had expected to see. “We do crazy things for the people we love.”

“I-” Maria let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know, Nat.” She whispered. “I just need her to be okay.”

“She will be,” the Black Widow smiled. “She’s strong.” Of course, Maria knew you were strong. She’s seen you at your lowest point when your father passed away, but you pulled yourself out of it. Your screams right before you collapsed were repeating inside her head. It was like a bad song stuck in there. The only thing that gave her hope was the steady beat of your heart monitors within your suit. You were alive, barely but alive.

“Deputy Director Hill,” her name said, but the approaching doctor caused her to stand up.

“How she is?” She asked.

“Stable,” the doctor said. “The next 24 hours are critical. I must admit she has a few guardian angels looking out for her. There was a major piece of metal in her stomach and left thigh. She also had small pieces in her arm. We think she hit her head due to a cut on the back of her head.”

“May said you were worried about her lungs,” Natasha said. The doctor nodded.

“She inhaled a great deal of the fertilizer before she was found, so we are worried about the lasting effects.” She explained.

“Can-can I see her?” Maria asked.

“Of course, we’ve placed her in a medically induced coma to allow her body to heal.” She faintly heard Natasha say she would inform Clint and the others of your condition. Maria wasn’t sure if the doctor was talking about your prognosis, but soon she was alone.

The only noise in the room was the steady sound of the machines connected to you. It seemed unreal that you were hurt. For the longest time, you seemed untouchable. Now, you were bedridden and too pale for Maria’s liking. She took your father’s dog tags off her neck and opened your hand to put the chain in it. “Lucky charm is back where it belongs.” She formed your hands into a tight fist and placed it on your heart. “Come back to me,” she whispered, kissing your forehead. “Please.”

There was a heaviness that surrounded you. It started at your chest and then moved to your limbs. The pressure was suffocating. Catastrophic. Slowly, you opened your eyes to the bright light of med bay. You felt metal in your hand and opened your palm to see the dog tags you gave Maria. “You’re awake,” you turned to see Natasha. A deck of cards in your hands and glanced down at your chest. You interrupted a game of war.

“Why are you using me as a table?” You deadpanned. Natasha shrugged.

“Had to kill time as we waited for your dumbass to wake up,” you rolled your eyes. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a semi-truck,” you groaned and sat up slowly. The door opened to the bathroom, and Clint walked out.

“Shit,” you said. “You’re alive.” You scuffed, rubbing the bandages on your chest.

“I’m glad you had so much confidence in me, bird man,” Clint took a seat across from Natasha. “The team is okay, right? They all made it out.”

“Yeah, you saved their lives,” Natasha said. “Maria is pissed at you.” You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll deal with her later.” You closed your eyes. Now that you were a little more awake, you could take a better inventory of your body. Every small breath you took caused your chest to burn; it felt like a fire was starting. You sighed, wincing slightly, and turned to look at Natasha. “How bad?” The Black Widow sighed.

“There is potential damage to your lungs due to the fertilizer, and you had a metal that they had to remove from your stomach and thigh.” Cool, you thought, real cool.

“Just think,” Clint started. “At least you are off breakfast duty for a while.” You laughed at his poor attempt to lighten the mood but hissed. “Shit, sorry. No laughing. Got it.” You waved him off that you were okay.

“I’ll go get the doctor. Don’t move.” Natasha said, standing up. You scuffed. Yeah, you would make a grand escape with a hole in your stomach.

“You had everyone worried,” Clint said once Natasha was gone. You remained quiet, lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t your intention to scare everyone. It was your job to protect your team and bring them home. So, you completed that part of the mission. It so happened you were hurt in the process.

It was night when you woke up again, and Maria was in Natasha’s seat. Her eyes were closed, but you knew she wasn’t asleep. Even in the dim light of the room, she looked exhausted. Bags were under her eyes, and her face looked pale. Natasha told you that you were in a medically induced coma for five days. Maria barely slept, had to be forced to eat, and left her office. “I know you aren’t asleep, Ria,” you whispered. Her eyes shot open. “You look like shit.”

“Says the girl with the hole in her stomach.” You smiled.

“They stitched it up all good. Besides, I had my lucky charm,” you picked up the dog tag around your neck. To your surprise, Maria took your hand in hers. Your body felt warm at the simple act. It wasn’t like you hadn’t held her hand before this moment felt more intimate. “Ria,” you whispered. “Are you okay?”

“I thought I lost you,” she admitted. “God, Willow, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Didn’t mean to,” you said. “I needed to save the team.” She shook her head.

“It was the right call to make, but,” Maria sighed, and you felt her take her hand away, but you held her tight, not wanting to let her go. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you promised.

With the surgery and injuries, your movement was limited. The most straightforward actions were impossible for you to do without pain shooting through your chest. It was deemed you would move in with someone until you fully recovered. Natasha was the first to offer but was quickly overruled by Maria. So you moved in with the Deputy Director, and it was strange. You needed help washing your hair, changing, and undressing yourself. You couldn’t understand the look in Maria’s eyes for every action you required assistance with. It wasn’t the first time you shared a living space with Maria, but now you walked on eggshells around each other. A part of you wanted to go back before the mission before everything felt complicated between you and your best friend.

The physical limitations weren’t the worst part of your recovery. It was the mental scars. Nightmares plagued your mind almost every night of that mission. It would change constantly. Sometimes, your team would die, or you would fail to save Maria. It was exhausting, waking up in a pool of sweat, your heart racing, and your lungs unable to get air into them. You wanted all to stop.

Maria was sitting at her dining room table, a bottle of whiskey opened, and she needed to work on a few case files. Her mind was a million miles away and not on her duties as Deputy Director. It wasn’t entirely her fault; a lot had happened over the past two weeks. Her best friend was almost killed; Natasha forced her to admit she was in love with said best friend, and she had to watch you piece yourself back together. It was exhausting, but she knew you would do it for her. This was how it had always been. You and Maria. Agent Hill and Gaia. A package duo that never crossed the line as friends. So Maria filled the void that was missing with one-night stands and drunken sex that meant nothing to her. All she wanted, needed, and craved was you. She could not risk the friendship; it was the most important thing in her life.

Small whimpers from your room pulled her out of her thoughts. Standing quickly, she made her way to the guest room. She carefully opened the door. You lay on the bed, mumbling something Maria couldn’t quite understand. On socked feet, she walked over to the bed and sat at the foot. “No,” you mumbled. “Take me. Not her. Please.” Maria’s heart broke.

“Sweetheart,” Maria whispered. “Wake up. Come on.”

“Maria,” you mumbled, thrashing slightly. “Maria, please, I’m sorry.”

“It’s just a nightmare. Wake up. Wake up.” You woke with a start, chest heaving and eyes frantically looking around.

“Ria,” you forced out. There was a thin layer of sweat on your body.

“It’s okay—you’re safe. I’m safe. Breath,” she gently touched the back of your neck and brought your forehead against hers. Your eyes closed as you took a few deep breaths in and out. Finally, you pulled away, and Maria hated to admit she missed you being close. You slumped back on the bed, arm across your face.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked. She was curious to know if you heard her. With your other hand, you grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

“I’m scared,” you said. Your voice shook at every spoken word. “I feel broken and weak and-” You aggressively rubbed your eyes as tears filled them.

“You are not broken,” Maria said. “You are healing. In time, you will return to your old self that I-” Maria cut herself off. You removed your hand from your face and slowly sat up.

“You what?” You asked, crossed your legs, and tried to cover the grimace of pain that crossed your face, but you moved closer to her. “Come on, Ria, tell me,” she was looking at every decoration in the room so she wouldn’t have to look at you. Finally, you used your index finger to tilt her chin to look back at you. “Finish your sentence,” you wore a smile on your face. It was a smile that Maria learned to look for in a crowd, in a meeting, or on a video call while on a mission. Your smile filled her with a sense of peace. It warmed her body and made her feel at home.

“That I fell in love with,” Maria softly spoke as she finished her sentence. You made a surprise sound that originated in the back of your throat, but you recovered quickly.

“You love me, Maria Hill?” the agent huffed a laugh, shaking her head.

“Shut up,” she mumbled. “If you are going to make fun of me, get it over with.”

“I’d never make fun of you, not about this, at least.” You added with a smirk because you have made fun of her about other things. “Can I kiss you?” You asked, inching closer until Maria felt your breath mingling with hers.

“Please,” you connected your lips with hers. Maria hated how often she thought about this moment. She would go to her grave before admitting out loud how many times she had to bite her lip during sex to stop herself from moaning your name. Fair too soon for her liking, you pulled away and rested your head on her shoulder.

“Why have we waited so long to do that?” Maria chuckled. “Will you stay?”

“Always,” the open bottle of whiskey and mission reports could wait another day.

When you woke up the following day, you are disappointed to find an empty bed. Maria’s side was cold, but you heard a commotion in the kitchen. Carefully, you stood up. The mornings were always rough due to being in the same position for so long. You slowly made your way out of the room and into the kitchen. Maria was at the stove, her back to you, and you walked over to her. Your arms wrapped around her waist, and you buried her head in her shoulder. Her body tensed up but soon relaxed in your arms. “Morning,” you mumbled.

“Morning. Breakfast is almost done. Why don’t you go sit down?” You shook your head.

“Your arm,” you said, kissing the skin you could reach. You were happy with the goosebumps that formed on her skin. Her body shook with laughter.

“Go sit. I’ll get your medicine, too.” You pouted, walked over to the couch, and pulled a blanket over your lap. It wasn’t long before Maria joined on the sofa with two plates of food.

“I can help you know,” she said with a smile. She brought back two mugs of coffee and water with your medication. You kissed her cheek as your thanks and took the three white pills with water.

“I should probably say this,” you bite into the eggs. “I love you too,” she smirked.

“I would hope so, or this entire thing would be incredibly awkward,” she teased. You rolled your eyes and pumped your shoulder against hers.

“You are a dork,” you smiled.

“I’m your dork,” that was also true. Oh, how you liked that sound.

“Mine,” you mumbled, kissing her. “And I’m yours.”

#maria hill x reader #maria hill x you #maria hill

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son1c · 4 months

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you know what's craziest about the new prime trailer and the sonic and shadow bit at the end is that it's so obvious that shadow cares. like there were hints before, when he looked back at the ghost rouge and when he referred to green hill as "our" home, but the fact of the matter is that, right now, sonic and shadow are all that's left of that place. the only survivors. the last two standing, the only proof it ever existed in the first place. and shadow can act cold but that's worth something to him. the desperation in his voice, the way he broke the sound barrier three times in a row... it's more than just sonic he's trying to save, it's shadow's whole world. because if sonic disappears, then what's left? just shadow. only him. and after losing his whole world once (maria and gerald and his home on the ark) i really don't think he'd be able to handle that a second time. so yeah. hang in there, sonic

#mfw shadow is allowed to have emotions *screaming crying tearing the room apart*

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outsideratheart · 5 months

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WOSO Masterlist

Alexia Putellas

You. Are. Mine

In Paris - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

I’m leaving but I’m not leaving you

New Team Mate

It’s Not Your Fault

I’ll Do It For You

Second Chances In Ibiza

Labor Omnia Vincit (Part 2 to New Team Mate)

Birthday Girl

Contract Negotiations

Green Dress 🔞

Making Memories 🔞

History

Hope (part 2 to History)

I Do Regret It

Christmas Miracle

Mistletoe and Miscommunication

Adios Amor

Te Quiero Mi Amor (part 2 to Adiós Amor)

Birthday Homage

Plans

La Reina and La Diosa

Legacy Series

Trust These Hands

United

The Bet

Happiness

Play Nice

Fighting Talk

You Should Have Told Me

By Your Side, Always

Birthdays in Bed

Leah Williamson

An American In London Town

Keep The Key

Never Stopped

Eyes open

Deja Vu (sequel to Eyes Open)

Make it true

Unstoppable

Welcome to Colney

Finalissima

Be Still With Me

My Heart Will Leave You Never

Meet Me at Henman Hill

Mornings With You

Jenni Hermoso

A World Cup To Remember

Birthday Wish

I Need More

Homecoming🔞

Leila Ouahabi

Never Go To Bed Angry

Only a Blue For You

True Loves Kiss

Cliché

Everything I Wanted (Part 2 to Cliche)

Aitana Bonmati

Sore Loser

Reunited

First Dates & Ferris Wheels

Mapi Leon

Rules Are Meant To Be Broken

Too Much Teasing

Lucy Bronze

Time To Celebrate

You’re Not Funny

Ana-Maria Crnogorcevic

I’ll Protect You

Be Proud

Claudia Pina

Nobody Compares To You

Alessia Russo

Rivals No More

Not While I’m Around

Fear of Failure

Mary Earps

Queen Of What Now?

Lia Wälti

Bees Land On The Prettiest Flowers

Ingrid Engen

Time Has No Concept

Fridolina Rolfö

A Return Worth Celebrating

Stina Blackstenius

Very Important Person

I’ll Be In The Stands

Ellie Carpenter

Champions League

Alex Scott

What’s Love Without Tragedy

Sweet Nothing

On a Night Like Tonight

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gingiesworld · 4 months

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If We Make It Through December

Maria Hill x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Happy Ending

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff

18+ MINORS DNI

Both Maria and Y/N had been together for the better part of the year, although Maria was being sent on more missions with Phil, Y/N was sent on every mission with Natasha. The friendship between the assassin and the agent had always been on the forefront of Maria’s mind.

“You like her.” She stated as Y/N packed for another mission, this time it was a solo mission.

“She is just a friend, Maria!” Y/N yelled as Maria scoffed. “You are everything I want and more!!” They sighed before cupping her face. “Let’s take this month, we’ll talk as much as we can and then when I’m home, we can see where we are, see if we are on the same page.”

“I’m sorry.” Maria cried as Y/N gave her a gentle smile, wiping away her tears.

“It’s ok.” They told her. “I have faith in us.” They pressed a tender kiss to her lips before their foreheads pressed together. “I love you Agent Hill.”

“I love you Agent Y/L/N.” She replied before Y/N went back to packing. She watched as they packed everything they needed, walking them to the car they were assigned. “Call if you need back up.” She told them firmly as they opened the car door.

“It’s a simple recon mission.” They reminded her.

“It’s never just a simple recon mission.” She reminded them before taking a deep breath. “I don’t know if I would survive if I lost you.” She whispered as they kissed her forehead.

“You won’t lose me.” They spoke with certainty. “In one month, on New Year's Eve, I will be back and ready to kiss you at midnight.” They kissed her lips once more before they disappeared, heading towards their destination.

As the month started, they had kept true to their word, calling Maria everyday, whenever they could, without fear of being caught. Then as the final week approached, they hadn’t spoken to each other. Maria wanted to call them but she knew she could jeopardize their mission.

“They will be fine.” Nat spoke as the party started, Maria’s eyes remained on the door, hoping to see the familiar face walk through.

“We haven’t heard off of them in over a week!” She yelled as Nat pulled her away from all of the other guests. “I’m worried about them.” She covered her face with her hands. “This isn’t what I wanted to happen, this is what I was worried about. Being attached and.”

“Falling in love.” Nat finished as Maria nodded. “I grew up thinking that love is for children and that I truly have no place in the world, but being here, being accepted into this group, a group I call my family has shown me that love can be the most beautiful thing in the world.” She walked her to the door, overlooking everyone laughing and having fun. “When I look at all of these people here, I feel at peace. I am home, and I have found my place in the world.”

At that moment, Y/N walked through the door, slightly battered and worse for wear, but their eyes looked for the blue irises they longed to see, to seek comfort. A smile on their face as they saw Maria stood with Nat, both in a deep conversation, approaching the two to see Maria with tears in her eyes.

“What’s with the tears?” They asked as both women looked at them.

“You’re here.” Maria whispered as they nodded with a smile.

“I made a promise didn’t I?” They questioned as Maria nodded, a smile growing on her face as Nat turned to walk away.

“I will leave you both.” She told them. “It’s good to have you home Y/N.” With that she disappeared as Maria moved to cup their face, assessing the injuries she could see.

“We should get your wounds treated.” She told them as they shook their head no.

“We have a few minutes until midnight.” They reminded her. “These injuries will still be here in January.” She smiled as they pulled her close, listening as everyone started to countdown the seconds. As everyone cheered and yelled New Year, Y/N pressed their lips against Maria’s, holding her closer than before.

“I guess we made it through December.” They smirked as Maria kissed them once more before dragging them off to tend to their wounds, listening as the sound of the others celebrating faded into the distance.

#maria hill x reader #maria hill #agent hill #agent hill x reader #cobie smulders x reader #cobie smulders #marvel fic #natasha romanoff

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olsenmyolsen · 6 months

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You're Not Alone

master list

dark master list

Post Age of Ultron (WandaNat)

Summary: Wanda discovers a secret about The Black Widow after a mission.

Word Count: 4.5K

Content: Talks of Hydra, The Red Room, Feelings, Tramua and flashbacks.

Wanda was still learning a lot since moving to America and becoming an Avenger.

Much to the dismay of Clint Barton, she discovered how much more trashy American reality TV is compared to other countries. Choosing to watch two toxic people argue while shitfacrd was a late-night pleasure for Wanda.

She also found her niche of new sitcoms to enjoy. Ones like The Office and Parks and Rec. She tried Always Sunny, but Wanda COULD NOT get into it. That disappointed Maria Hill, who liked that one. But not as much as How I Met Your Mother.

Regardless, Malcom in the Middle was a new favorite for Wanda Maximoff.

She also found new oddities about her teammates. Like Sams love of naming his little gadgets. Steve's late-night ballroom dancing practices. Vision curiosity over his humanoid teeth and Thor's love of all things Pop-Tarts and sugary sweets before heading off-world.

Lastly, Wanda most recently discovered something about Natasha Romanoff that almost no one knew.

Natasha Romanoff had a tattoo.

Wanda couldn't believe it when she saw it. But then again, Wanda was never supposed to see it. She only happened to see it because a mission went wonky...

Since joining the team, Wanda had one goal in mind aside from the obvious for the greater good hero crap. Wanda wanted to eliminate Hydra and their bases.

Joining Hydra was a mistake. It gave her, her powers but at the cost of her young adult years. At the expense of her sanity. She lost herself and then her brother.

Now, she was slowly discovering who Wanda was. Who Wanda Maximoff wanted to be. One of the first things on that list was to take down Hydra.

So that's what led Steve, Sam, Wanda, and Natasha in route to the snowy mountains of France. It wasn't the first mission Wanda was cleared to go on. But it was the first time she was on with Natasha Romanoff.

The Black Widow.

To say Natasha intimidated the Sokovain would be an understatement. Wanda was frightened of Natasha. Even if Wanda could clearly use her powers to her advantage, she didn't want to do that anymore.

At least not to her teammates and friends.

Besides, the pair had barely spoken since the fall of Wanda's home country, but yet Natasha's red jacket still hung in Wanda's closet.

They shared the same floor and went to movie nights at the same time, but aside from a look over and a tight-lipped smile. Natasha never gave Wanda anything more.

Not even when Wanda gave everyone on the team a handwritten apology for her actions in the rise and fall of Ultron.

She never received anything back from Natasha.

And yet.

Natasha chose to sit next to Wanda on the flight to France.

Wanda smiled as the redhead looked over the younger woman. Wanda did the same as her eyes traveled over Natasha's face. She couldn't deny how beautiful the Widow was. Her green eyes and striking features were hard to look away from. But that's what benefitted Natasha when she was in the Red Room. Use any and everything to your advantage.

Natasha wasn't doing that now.

She was just being herself. She wanted to talk to Wanda.

So when she saw Wanda's eyes leave her lips and get visibly nervous, Natasha decided to speak up.

"Hi." She started. Simple enough.

"Hi." Wanda softly spoke back.

Natasha took a second before speaking.

"I want you to know that I know this isn't your first mission. But it's your first one with me since..." Wanda nodded as Natasha steadied herself. "I just want you to know that you can count on me to have your back." Wanda smiled at that. "I know you'll have mine." Natasha ended that with a reassuring nod and a look away before looking back when the witch spoke up.

"Thank you, Natasha."

"Of course."

With that, Natasha cleared her throat and started looking at her widow bites. Double-checking them. Even though they had been thoroughly looked over by the Widow herself before the team even left the compound.

Wanda didn't know what to say anyways. Everything that had just happened was shocking to her.

The most shocking part might have been when Natasha didn't leave when she got done with her gadgets; instead, she remained sat in her seat next to Wanda.

Wanda racked her brain, thinking of anything else to say, but nothing came out when she opened her mouth.

But finally, when she was about push the words "have you ever seen the Dick Van Dyke show?" through her lips, Steve called the team up to go over the mission one last time.

The mission? Infiltrate the located Hydra Base. Save prisoners, if any. Capture the goons inside and try not to kill anyone. However, if it comes to it, do what you have to.

Steve made a better speech, but you get the jist.

When the wheels touched down, the group decided to split off. Through the coms, Wanda could hear Steve and Sam finding guys left and right. But that wasn't the case for her and Natasha.

Their side of the base was empty. Cells and rooms had been cleared out, long left abandoned. Dust and dirt had gathered. Flashbacks came to the front of Wanda's mind, but she pushed down the screaming and the trauma that came with it just in time for Natasha's thoughts to be loud.

Begging for Wanda to read them.

The Black Widow tried to focus on the mission, but for the last couple of months, Natasha had been silently struggling.

After mouthing off to Capitol Hill, Natasha came to Avengers Tower under Fury's orders. She stayed and made herself useful to the cause at hand, however, before and in between Ultron happening. Natasha had thought she found solace in someone after her and Maria split. But even after Natasha begged for them to go with her. It wouldn't work.

Nothing Natasha did worked.

So when a little witch made Natasha relive her nightmares, it didn't anger Natasha. It made her feel weak and small, like she deserved it.

So all this time when, Wanda felt like Natasha wasn't making an effort or ignoring her. Wanda technically wasn't wrong. It, however, wasn't because Natasha hated Wanda she was just dealing with her own shit.

"Natasha?" Wanda whispered when she noticed that the Widow wasn't walking next to her anymore. Instead, she was severely feet back looking into a cell.

Wanda walked back and saw what Natasha was staring at. A stuffed pink bear laid face down in the middle room. Covered in dirt and dried blood.

Wanda didn't say anything. She and Natasha had lived something similar. She just forced her eyes to pull away from the bear and look at Natasha, rubbing the left side of her ribs with her right hand, mumbling something to herself before remembering where she was, and what she was supposed to be doing. She cleared her throat and looked at Wanda.

"We should get moving."

Again, Natasha's thoughts were begging to be viewed, but Wanda ignored them and followed Natasha.

"Did you find it yet?" Sams voice came over coms. "We're almost at the drives now. If there's no one to save or take, prepare to evac in five." Natasha said as she and Wanda stopped before a room storing this base's secrets.

Wanda lit up the room with her magic before deeming it safe for Natasha to flick the switch on. "Is that new?" She asked when Wanda lowered her hands. "Steve, Vision, and I have been trying to come up with inventive ways to use my powers."

Natasha nodded as she put the thumb drive into the computer in the corner of the room.

"That's right," Natasha said. "I can see you lifting him from my window." That surprised Wanda. She had no idea Natasha had been watching them after team training ended. "You're doing good." Natasha offered a genuine smile to the Sokovian, who tried her best to hide the red on her cheeks.

Natasha noticed but didn't comment on it.

Instead, she turned to look at the files loading up on the monitor. Folders and folders full of information on this Hydra bases dealings.

What test they ran. Who they tested it on. What bodies were traded for and to whom.

It was all horrible.

Natasha's eyes watched each document and picture flick by her. The progress bar at the bottom of the screen was getting closer and closer to 100% when a picture of a young blonde girl flew by.

Natasha leaned forward.

No.. It couldn't be..

Wanda saw how Natasha's whole body language changed. She saw how her green eyes changed from focused to scared. Before Wanda could comment on it. A loud bang was heard from outside the door down the hall.

Instantly, Natasha rose to her feet, gun drawn. She looked over at Wanda with raised hands. Ready to fight. Natasha nodded to Wanda and then back to the computer and whispered. "Stay here. Make sure it gets to 100% and then take it with you to the quinjet. I'll be there."

Wanda felt like she should stop Natasha. Or that they should go together, but the words never left her mouth as Natasha rounded the doorframe, disappearing from sight.

As Wanda waited, Natasha quietly stalked her way to where the noise had came from. Her breathing was slow and calculated as she kept her gun in front of her. She listened for any voices or footsteps that might give away whoever was around. But no noise was made.

Natasha turned around and was about to head back when a woman wearing a grey Hydra outfit emerged from the shadows with a gun in their hand—firing two rounds at Natasha before they took off running.

Natasha used her quick reflexes to get up onto her feet and immediately started chasing after the person who just shot at her. "I got one running west," Natasha yelled in the coms. "Heading your way, Wanda."

Wanda's head shot up at learning that piece of information, and stood up from the computer to rush out the doorway. Without thinking about Wanda used her magic to stop the Hydra agent. Immobilizing their body, sending them crashing to the floor. The gun sliding away from their hand.

Natasha stopped next to the fallen body and bent down to turn the woman's body over. Natasha saw how the woman's eyes were red. Wanda had her under. "She's scared," Wanda spoke up for the woman.

That's why she ran. Natasha thought as she looked over the woman's blonde hair and at the features on that dawned her face.

Memories came to the front of her mind as her fingers itched to touch the side of her ribs again.

Natasha shook them away and swallowed before standing back up with a groan. The sharp pain rushed through her body as the adrenaline started coming down. Natasha winced and placed her hand on her side where the pain was coming from.

"You're bleeding."

Natasha looked into Wanda's concerned green eyes and didn't move as Wanda stepped closer to her. Walking right over the now incapacitated Hydra goon. Natasha wanted to take a step back away from Wanda but froze when Wanda's soft hands placed themselves on Natasha's body. Her hands gripped Natasha's hips as she bent down to take a closer look at the wound.

"It looks like the bullet just grazed you. Did you not feel it?" Wanda looked up at Natasha, who just shrugged. "I didn't even realize."

Wanda accepted the answer because she could start to see that pushing Natasha would push her away. So, instead, Wanda nodded to herself and raised her hand to Natasha's wound.

"I've been working on something.. Do you trust me?" Wanda asked the one person whom most people could never see Natasha trusting. "Yes," Natasha said without hesitation. Wanda hid a blush at that before continuing.

She raised her hand higher and brought it closer to Natasha's bleeding side. "It won't hurt."

Natasha watched as red wisps extended themselves from Wanda's hand and landed on the marking of the bullet. Before her eyes, Natasha watched as Wanda started patching the wound as if she were stitching her body. "Oh my.. Wanda..." Natasha couldn't believe it, and yet her wound was now sown shut with a red glow around it.

Wanda looked at what she did and smiled. She was proud of herself. So when she looked up, and saw Natasha smiling back down. Wanda smiled brighter. "That's amazing," Natasha said as Wanda stood up. Her hands were still on the Widow's body. "Thank you!" Natasha looked at Wanda with newfound respect and admiration.

And before she knew it, Natasha's eyes traveled from Wanda's green eyes to her pink lips. She started scanning every inch of the Sokovain's face in a new way.

Wanda wasn't sure if what she was seeing was actually happening, so it was best not to comment on it. However, she did notice that slight fall from Natasha's lips when Wanda removed her hands from her.

"When we get back, you'll have to get it checked out. My magic won't hold it forever... At least not that I know of." Wanda chuckled at that last part, making Natasha crack a laugh for the first time in a long time.

The nice eye-darting moment between the two had to come to an end when the prisoner groaned from the floor. They were still unconscious, thanks to Wanda. But needing to be moved.

"I'll check the hard drive if you want to..." Natasha didn't need to say anymore as Wanda effortlessly lifted the prisoner with her powers. Natasha smiled at the easy use of her powers and subconsciously rubbed the side of her ribs above the area where she had been shot once again—an action Wanda had picked up on.

Perhaps it was a nervous habit of Natasha's?

Maybe a tic?

Wanda didn't know, but when she saw Natasha do it again, she sat back down in the chair in front of the monitor. The screen sitting on an image of an experiment being ran on a young kid.

The progress bar below sitting at 100%.

Wanda watched as Natasha's body tensed, followed by her thoughts becoming louder and louder.

The flight went by quicker than Wanda thought it would.

She wanted to sit and talk with Natasha but couldn't when Natasha landed herself in the pilot seat. Wanda was sure she wouldn't have been if the Widow told the team about her getting shot, but Natasha didn't.

Instead, when Wanda and Natasha arrived with the unconscious Hydra goon, Steve and Sam had no idea that Natasha was in a fight. Something about the coms failing right after the download started. Steve asked Natasha if she was fine, and Wanda watched her teammate lie and put on a brave face.

So Natasha flew the team back.

When they landed, Sam went to start a report on the mission while Wanda went with Steve to take the prisoner to holding. Natasha went to the medical unit to get her wound looked over.

At least, that's what Wanda thought.

To no surprise but Wandas, Natasha headed straight to her room. She locked the door and went to her bathroom. She opened a cabinet and pulled out her own med kit. She rested it on the counter as her nerves began to calm down. The pain worked its way through her soft and battered body as her suit was slowly peeled off, hitting the floor.

There, Natasha stood in her private bathroom, scanning over her semi-naked body. What's been done to it by others. What's been done is by her own hands. Scars and wounds healed but still leave a mark.

She brings her fingers up over her newest wound and lets the bit of undried blood drip onto her middle finger before she rubs it into her skin.

The red staining her.

Natasha brings her face up from her fingers to look back at the mirror. Natasha realizes just how close the bullet was. Had it been appropriately aimed and higher, it would've gone right through the middle of Natasha's first and only tattoo.

On the side of Natasha's ribs were two incredibly detailed fireflies. One was slightly bigger than the other.

"Look, forest stars!"

"Yeah! You know what? Those are actually part of the Lampyridae family. And the glow that you see, that comes from a chemical reaction called... bioluminescence... Come on time for dinner!"

"I want Mac and Cheese."

"Natasha..?"

Natasha, startled, jumped back and away from the shut bathroom door. Covering herself before, she immediately closed her eyes and got upset at her actions once she realized it was Wanda on the other side.

Had she not heard the witch enter her room?

"I was calling your name over and over, but you didn't hear me." The witch answered. "I came to check on you. I went to the medical wing and... and you never made it. So I knocked on your door before letting... myself.. in..." Wanda tried to laugh to cover the light criminal work she had done. Even then, she opened and closed her mouth, but before Natasha could do anything, Wanda asked: "Are you okay? Do you need help?"

Natasha stood with her bodysuit held in her right hand. A part of her was yelling at her to put it on and send Wanda away. Fix yourself up alone and get back to training. But there was the other half. The one who was exhausted and hurt. The one who needed help.

That voice won out.

"Wa-Wanda..." Natasha's voice was cracked before she cleared it. "Yes?" Wanda answered with a voice of surprise and concern. But then Natasha didn't speak. Instead, there was a click of the door as Natasha removed her hand from the lock. "Come in.." She quietly called out to the Sokovian, who now wore a set of grey sweats, gingerly placed her hand on the knob before turning it slowly, opening the door.

"Natasha..." Wanda hitched her breath as her eyes became focused on the woman standing before her. Only wearing a black sports bra and black shorts. Riddled with scars and bruising. A bullet wound below a black and white marking that Natashas was hiding with her hand.

Wanda took her gaze off Natasha's body and found her eyes. Taking a step forward, Natasha didn't look away from the younger woman. She didn't move. She kept her grip on her suit and waited. "Natasha?" Wanda spoke.

"Hmm?"

Wanda looked away from the Widow and picked up the Avengers-level first-aid kit. "Take a seat.." She gestured over to the edge of the counter. Natasha looked at the spot before nodding.

Cautious, she dropped the suit from her grip but kept her hand covering the tattoo.

Wanda caught onto it and wasn't sure what Natasha could possibly be hiding; after all, SHEILDS secrets had been public knowledge for the last year and a half. But Wanda wasn't going to bug her about. Right now, she just wanted to care for her teammate and friend.

So, as Wanda got closer to Natasha, Natasha sat straight up and lifted her arm up to give Wanda enough space to work. Wanda sent the older woman a flat smile and bent down slightly before starting to clean the grazed area of the bullet.

Natasha did her best not to wince or show much emotion as Wanda cleaned her up and tossed the bloodied pieces of tissues to the side. Wanda knew Natasha wouldn't, but still, she was in such close proximity to THE BLACK WIDOW, and yet she could tell something was wrong. "Natasha?" Wanda finally said when she went to stitch her up without using her powers.

"Yes?" Natasha brought her eyes to Wanda as her loud thoughts of a young blonde child slowed. "Are you okay?" Wanda asked the question that had been begging to be asked.

Natasha wasn't sure what it was, but she easily could've lied to Wanda. She could've nodded, put on a brave face, and shut down any remaining questions, but when the green eyes of the Sokovian looked up at her, she broke. She closed her eyes and squeezed them tight as tears threatened to spill.

Wanda quickly put down the medicinal supplies in her hand and placed her hands on the shoulders of the redhead before they moved down to Natasha's side. Her hand sitting inches above the still-covered tattoo. "Tas-Natasha?"

Natasha shook her head and used her one free hand to wipe at her face. A tear slipped past her mouth as she opened to speak. "I'm tired." She spoke through her rough throat. Wanda nodded. She knew. "So tired."

Wanda rubbed her hands up and down Natasha's side. It seemed like it was still a safe thing to do, considering Natasha hadn't stopped her, and they were both enjoying the touch of each other on their skin.

Wanda was going to let the silence linger. She didn't know what to say to help Natasha that the Widow didn't know, and she was focusing really hard not to read her thoughts. But luckily for Wanda, Natasha very quietly looked up and said: "I miss her."

Wanda saw the soft sadness in the eyes of her friend and felt hurt. She didn't like seeing Natasha like this. It didn't feel right, and someone this pretty should never be sad.

"Who?" Wanda asked, genuinely curious.

"Yelena. My sister."

Natasha saw the confused look on the witches face, but instead of elaborating, Natasha leaned closer to Wanda and lifted her hand off of her tattoo. "Here." She placed her hands on top of Wanda. Moving one just in front of her forehead and the other hand, she moved down the side of her body.

The feeling of their fingers resting on top of one another sent a warmth wave throughout each woman as Natasha finally placed Wanda's hand on the tattoo.

"I got this a year after my deflection to SHIELD."

Wanda rubbed her thumb over the larger firefly before tracing her fingers over the delicate linework. The action making Natasha smile. "Do you know where she is?" Wanda gingerly asked when she took her eyes off the piece of art.

"No."

"Do you wish you did?"

Natasha didn't waste another thought on a lie. She answered truthfully while looking into Wanda's eyes.

"Yes."

Wanda's eyes stayed on Natashas before dropping to her lips and back up. "Can.. I..?" Wanda asked, awaiting consent before earning a nod. With that, Wanda lowered her hand and began looking into Natasba's mind. Looking at what Natasha wanted her to see.

A young blonde child and a girl with dyed blue hair. The two are playing in a backyard near a swing set. The younger girl is laughing and having fun before she falls over.

"Yelena," Natasha repeated her name. "My sister." Wanda smiles at the memory and then raises her hand up and leaves Natasha's mind. "Before she was taken. She didn't know..." When she opens her eyes, Natasha is looking at her. "Thank you for showing me that." Wanda once again looks down at Natasha's watery smile—her lips.

Natasha nods and notices the look on Wanda's face. "Wanda.." Natasha starts as her hands move to Wanda's waist, tugging her closer to her sitting on the bathroom counter.

"We shouldn't..." Wanda already knows what the older woman is thinking, but Natasha wants this. She needs this. It's been a while since she's felt the care from someone else. The touch of another. She also has shared something with Wanda that no one else knows.

So, as she pulls Wanda closer, Wanda knows that they shouldn't, but she can't say no. The words fail to get past her throat. She wants to feel the lips of the other on her... So she leans into Natasha, and the moment between them is soft. Slow and careful. But the sparks fly.

Something happens.

Natasha's hand moves around to Wanda's lower back, pulling her closer, causing Wanda to fall more into her without a fight as their lips collide again and again.

A whimper makes Natasha smile as she bites and pulls the witches bottom lip between her teeth. "You sound so good for me," Natasha whispers, earning another moan. "Natasha..." Wanda tries to speak again but fails when Natasha's right hand begins pulling at Wanda's grey sweatpants. "Shhh.. It's okay.. I want this.." Natasha reassures Wanda to only earn a shake of the head. The younger woman is doing her best to tell Natasha that she's...

"Tasha.." Wanda moans when Natasha's hand brushes past her bare pussy. "Come on. Tell me you want this, Wanda..." Wanda gasps and moans when a finger touches her clit. "Tasha, please..." Natasha smirks and kisses the lips of the scarlet woman with passion.

"Please, what baby..." Wanda loves the kisses being planted by Natasha, but she has never done anything past this moment with someone. She's feeling lost, and the feeling of passion is morphing into nervousness. And she doesn't want to do this with Natasha when she knows and can feel the thoughts coming from Natasha.

Natasha is looking for an escape.

Wanda moans again in pleasure. "Please stop." She says, surprising Natasha. Immediately, Natasha pulls her hands out of Wanda's sweatpants, placing them on her sides taking her lips off of the Sokovian. Looking into her eyes with concern. "What- what's wrong?" Wanda bites her bottom lip before returning them to Natashas, still keeping her confused. "Wanda?" Natasha looks at her friend with soft eyes.

"I've never..." Wanda says, making Natasha feel guilty for pushing her. "Oh Wanda..." Natasha starts, but Wanda stops her again with a kiss, moving their bodies closer together. "Stop. I want to, but..." Wanda bites her lips again. "I don't want to be used." She takes a careful breath before saying: "You and I both know what that's like."

Natasha doesn't realize a tear has fallen from her face until Wanda drags a finger up her cheek. Wiping it away with tenderness. "I'm so-" "Don't." Wanda cups Natasha's chin. "It's okay." Natasha wants to yell at her that it's not, but all she does is collapse as Wanda runs her hand over the tattoo of a distant memory.

Wanda doesn't speak about what almost happened between them. Instead, she leaves Natasha on the bathroom counter as she brings her some clothes to rest in later tonight. She finishes wrapping the wound around Natasha before leading her out to her bed.

Both women are tired but don't let go of one another hand. Wanda smiles when Natasha asks her to stay.

They don't talk about what is new between them. But the two feel closer as Wanda keeps her hand on the tattoo, and with permission, she is allowed to relive the happiest memories from Natasha's childhood. A majority of them involving Yelena. Natasha thanked her as she laid in the Sokovian's arms.

In return, Wanda made her remember that she's not alone.

dividers by @/benkeibear

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dovedewdrop · 8 months

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The One That Got Away

In another life

I would be your girl / 1.7k

A/N: Hi! Welcome to my first fic! I've been super anxious to put this out but also itching to write something so here we are🤗 I hope you enjoy🩷

Also thank you to one of my besties @gracieispunk for being so supportive always🥹 she truly has a heart of gold and deserves the world💛 Happy 5 months of friendship🫶🏻👹

Warnings: Post-Outbreak. Mean!Joel. Just pure angst tbh. sad vibes.

---

The last time he had kissed you was the morning of the outbreak, long and passionate, his arm slung around your lower back, your hand on his chest. He’d done it to shut you up really, both you and Sarah on his case about how he was working late, on his birthday of all days, but you both knew why he had to, it was the same reason you picked up extra shifts at work too, you had a wedding to plan and weddings weren’t cheap no matter how low-key they were.

Now you sat at your kitchen table in Jackson in the house you shared with Tommy and Maria, your fingertips ghosting across your bottom lip as you reminisced on that morning. Soon those sweet memories that seemed to be coated in an orange hue were contrasted with shades of blue, Joel had changed, he became a man you didn’t recognise, a man who was cold towards you.

You knew deep down that he didn’t blame you for what had happened, but he had to be mad at someone. At first he just withdrew into himself, but it didn’t take long for him to become outwardly mean, you felt pathetic as you followed behind him up dirt paths and across fields and embarrassed when one day he’d stopped in his tracks, drew in a long breath, and muttered, “wish you’d just leave already,” stalking off up the hill and leaving Tommy to comfort you.

So that’s what you did, you and Tommy, you left with no idea where you’d end up and it killed you to turn around at the edge of the woods and see Joel sitting there on his own, snapping sticks in his hand as if it was your heart he was holding.

You wiped your tears away with the back of your hand and downed the rest of your coffee before placing the mug in the sink, grabbing a checked fleece from the hook on your way out the door. The air outside was biting, bringing a rosiness to your cheeks which you didn’t really mind, you’d be out of the cold and in the Bison soon enough. You took note of the patrol coming back in through the gates and smiled at some of the other families as you weaved your way through the crowds of people who had stopped in the streets.

“Tommy!” You stopped dead in your tracks. Tommy was a popular man around here; someone was always looking for him but there was no mistaking whose voice that was. When you turned ever so slightly they were embracing in a hug, it made your heart burst to see them together like that, how they used to be, how Joel used to be. He seemed a lot brighter, full if a bit more life. You scanned the horses and noticed a young girl amongst the patrollers, someone you hadn’t seen before, you wondered if she was his, if he’d met someone new after you, fallen in love again and decided to have another kid, you wondered if he was healed, if she’d healed him.

When you turned your attention back to them he was already looking at you and for the first time in your life you couldn’t read him, his emotions had always been so strong, when he loved it was with his whole heart and as you came to find out, when he hated, that was with his whole heart too.

You tore your gaze away from his and headed towards the pub, clutching at your chest, you were grateful that you didn’t have to open for another hour as you slumped against the wooden cupboard behind the bar, trying your best to regulate your breathing, eyes closed and head pounding. As you’d finally calmed down and peeled your eyes open you noticed a head full of curls peaking over the bar, Tommy.

“You know he was coming?” You asked, with a slight shake evident in your voice.

“Nah, guys picked him and the girl up whilst out on patrol.” He began rounding the bar to sit on the floor with you.

“Is that his daughter?”

“Don’t think so, haven’t had chance to speak to him properly yet, ‘ad to come check on you.” He nudged your shoulder with his and gave you a sincere smile, one which you returned, he’d always looked out for you and now that Joel was back that wasn’t going to change. “Take the rest of the afternoon off, I’ve got it covered here.”

“Thanks Tommy,” you pull him into a hug before standing up and heading home.

You take a hot shower and try to drown out the recurring memories of how Joel fell out of love with you, of how when he looked at you his eyes no longer held warmth, how when you’d touch him he’d flinch and looked away. When you sat at your dresser your eyes fixed on your engagement ring that sat in a wooden box that the carpenter in Jackson had been kind enough to make, it wasn’t incredibly fancy, you weren’t into big sparkly rocks, but the green amethyst stone was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, and it made your heart burst to know that he picked it.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sat at the dresser but when you snap out of your trance you realise you don’t quite know what to do with the rest of your afternoon, perhaps you should’ve carried on with your shift, but you know there’s no arguing with Tommy. Eventually you decide on grabbing a book from the bookshelf and sitting outside on the porch with a cup of coffee. That’s when you see him again, or rather hear him. The door to the Bison swings and he storms out, jacket in hand, boots trudging through the sludgy remnants of snow until he stops in the middle of the street, he looks down and you watch, over the top of your book, as his body lets out a breath he seems to have been holding in for a long time.

You try to hold your tongue but you’re not about to let him walk around in this town and ignore you. “Get into a fight with Tommy?” you question, placing your book down in your lap and pulling the blanket further up your legs. His head shoots up to look at you, his expression looks pained, like he knew this was coming but would prefer it to not be happening right now.

“Somethin’ like that,” he grumbles as he slowly walks over to the house, treading lightly both figuratively and literally.

“Ah, still the same Joel Miller, so elusive and cautious, so stony-faced,” he doesn’t answer you, just looks away to where the girl is talking to some other kids, “of course, he wasn’t always like that,” you mumble, more to yourself than him but he still catches it.

“Don’t” He snaps back.

“Don’t?” You scoff, “that’s rich, what? Can’t handle a bit of shit back?” Again, he doesn’t answer. “That your kid?” You ask, you make sure that you breathe when you ask but really, you’re suffocating inside, you want to fawn over him, you want to hug him and cradle his head in your hand, and you want him to rub soothing circles on your hips like he used to but you’re dealing with an entirely different man now.

“No.” There’s a pause, you notice his eyes flit down to your hands, presumably searching out your ring. “Just tryna get her somewhere.” You nod at his response before silence falls over you both, your eyes drifting over to the kid.

“What’s her name?”

“Ellie.” You nod your head once again.

You can feel everything bubbling up inside you, emotions and words and if you’re not careful they’ll come bubbling out of you in a way that you can’t control. Every second spent in his presence goads you. “You… got a boyfriend?” he asks cautiously and you roll your eyes.

“Jheez Joel, no, how are ya?” He looks down at his fingers that are resting on the wooden railing, like a little boy that’s just been told off. You don’t even know how to respond, your brain trying to categorise your thoughts and feelings like your mind is a jumble sale.

“What ya thinking about?” His voice is soft, his eyes feel as though they’re looking into your soul, like they used to do, he was looking at you like he did when you did something he adored, something that reminded him why he loved you so damn much.

When you let out a sigh instead of an answer, he tapped both hands on the railing and pushed himself off, a slight smile that quickly turned into a frown. “See ya around.”

He stopped walking as you began speaking and you were glad his back was to you because here comes the word vomit,

“ Thinkin about how one day, probably sometime within the next five years, my kids are gonna come runnin up on this porch and my husband is gonna come home from his patrol shift, presumably with you, and he’s gonna tell me about his day and he’ll give that little of a shit that he won’t even notice that I’m not lookin directly at him, I’m lookin past him at you. About how, when I go to tuck my kids in at night I’ll get this stabbing in my chest and this gnawing feeling in my brain telling me that I’m a bad mother because sure, I’ll love them to absolute pieces but part of me can’t help but think I’d love them more if they were your kids. About how I’ll get into bed at night, with my husband who doesn’t so much as utter a “goodnight” to me, instead just rolls over and goes straight to sleep and I’ll cry and mull over what could have been and what I wanted more than anything in the world- until the exhaustion washes over me. Then I’ll wake up the next day and do it all over again. That’s what I’m thinking about Joel.”

He turns to face you at your admission and you can see the tears in his eyes, watching as he forces them out with a blink before wiping a stray one with the back of his flannel. “See ya around,” he repeats.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller angst #hbo joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #hbo joel miller x you #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us #angsty joel miller #dovedewdrop

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yelenasdiary · 2 months

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Forbidden || Meet The Characters - Natasha Romanoff

No Warnings | 0.6K

Forbidden Masterlist

Hi there! I'm Natasha, Yelena's older sister. I have a place in Drybellow where I run an orphanage for young girls. I'm sure Yelena has told a little of our back story and why I have this orphanage, so I won't bother you with more details on that.

I house 16 girls from ages 6 to 20. These girls have nowhere else to go, these are girls who have run away, girls in trouble and girls who's parents couldn't look after. I do my best; I have a small background on basic medicine, so I am able to treat them correctly when they need it. I educate them and teach them things a woman in this world should know. I'd do anything and everything for them.

We all live together on some land, well, you'd probably call it a small ranch. We grow our own fruits and vegetables, and we have some animals. Everybody helps out and has their own chores to do before they go off and do their own thing. I don't like to make them feel like they need to work to keep a bed here, when they are ready, I help them find a job and a new home to stay at. Most girls will write and give me updates on their new chapter of life and others like to come back for a visit.

Some of the older girls and I like to knit things like blankets and clothing for new-borns, that's one of the ways we make some money to help keep this place running. Gardening is also something we all do, the younger girls love planting anything they can find so our home is full of orange, yellow, red, and purple plants. I like to try and keep the younger ones more entertained, long walks around the small, wooded area near the ranch, walks along the coastline, painting when we get some supplies, playing in the mud, enjoying their freedom and letting to be children is important to me.

Every single girl that comes into my care will leave with the skills they need to care for themselves, look out for themselves and make something wonderful of themselves. But enough about that, I'm sure I've just bored you with all that information.

As for me, I like doing many things. I do a lot of reading, mostly books that teach you something. Cooking, I love to cook! I've taught the girls how to fish and sometimes when the girls go on a walk, they'll bring back a dead rabbit for me to cook. When my days aren't spent looking after the girls, I'm usually trying to keep track of where Yelena is! We have a system; she is to write to me when she's off catching outlaws and if she doesn't, I'll go looking for her. That's if I don't hear from her within two weeks.

I don't do all of this by myself though. I have to thank Maria Hill for being such a rock through all of this. She has been with me since I told her about the idea of buying this old, broken and run down property and turn it into something beautiful. She helps with everything, looks after the girls as if they were her own, we both do. Without Maria, this place wouldn't be possible.

Well, I won't chew your ear off any longer! Feel free to write us a little letter, we're the ranch closeted to the railway station in Drybellow! We would love to hear from you. Stay safe out there!

~ Natasha, Maria & the Girls of Black Hill Ranch.

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's link at the top of this post.

#fanfiction #marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #forbiddenau

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ynscrazylife · 8 months

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His Agent

Summary: When the Avengers save a team of kidnapped S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents, they discover something new about their Captain.

A/N: I’ve been working on this fic for a little while and I’m proud of this idea/plot so I really hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

The first clue that something was off was the change in Natasha and Clint’s behavior. They could usually hide it, being master spies, but it became difficult to constantly put on a mask around the people you live with, people you saved the world with. Steve, Tony, Bruce, and Thor all noticed how the pair retreated into themselves like turtles would into their shells. They had always been reserved - Natasha especially - but it went to a deeper level now. They would talk in hushed whispers to each other, were always hunched over something, their backs to the rest of the team, and were distracted when it came to Avengers business.

The next clue was when Director Fury postponed his meeting with the Avengers. Since establishing the initiative, he had made a point to have monthly meetings with the team to discuss any recent updates, missions and threats. Fury was adamant that these meetings were very crucial to the Avengers’ success, so to hear that he was pushing it back right as they were gathering around the conference table was a surprise. Still, not enough for them to think it might be related to Natasha and Clint’s behavior. Fury said the meeting would be in a few days, that was all.

Then, things went from being off to being wrong. They all sat at the table, ready to see Fury’s face come up on screen, but he never appeared – Deputy Director Maria Hill did.

“What happened?” Natasha asked almost immediately, not even letting Maria get a word in as she leaned forward in her chair. It was clear that she knew more than what she was letting on.

“Director Fury cannot make it today, he’s dealing with a crucial issue, one that we hope we can call on you, Avengers, to help us with,” Hill said, her words flowing calmly, but there was still a spark of urgency, almost desperation, in her eyes.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, wearing a puzzled look. If S.H.I.E.L.D. was coming to them for help when they had the best agents around the globe, and the Director was attending to it, they must be in some sort of crisis.

“A week ago, we lost contact with a six person team that had gone undercover to investigate an uprising organization who’s been trying to create their own superhumans. We received intel that they had been torturing people and creating illegal serums and devices for their superhuman projects. After being unable to contact any of them, we also found that none of their trackers were online,” Hill explained.

“So you think their cover was blown?” Tony guessed.

“We do, yes. We had a team scout the building the agents had gone undercover in a few days ago and found no sign of them. We think that they’ve moved them somewhere else,” Hill answered.

“Who’s missing?” Bruce asked.

A file flashed onto the screen, a list of names with pictures. Everyone leaned forward in their seats to get a better look, their eyes skimming the document. The sound of wheels rolling back caught their attention as Steve suddenly stood up, spun around on his heels and walked out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him.

“What the hell was that?” Clint asked, utterly confused - like everyone else.

Hill sighed. “It may have something to do with one of the Agents on the list – Y/L/N. She helped Steve a lot after he came out of the ice, they were good friends,” she said.

One, two. One, two. One, two. One, two. One, two. One, two. One–

Steve panted as he stared down at the punching bag which clattered to the ground, sweat coating his raised biceps.

“You know, if you really want to get your frustrations out, you should spar with someone,” a voice floated into his ear and Steve glanced up, only to see you lifting some weights.

He straightened his arched back, dropping his arms. “Oh, yeah? How do you reckon that?” He asked, curious.

You smirked. “You’re not the only one who’s broken the bag,” you said, shrugging. “Though, it took me a lot longer without the super strength.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, wondering what got you so mad, but not commenting on it. Then, he couldn’t help but fix you with a confused gaze.

“What?” You asked, still smiling at him.

“You’re not, uh, gawking at me,” he said.

You chuckled, asking, “Am I supposed to?” Before he could answer, you made a silly, dramatic jaw-dropped, eyes wide face, causing Steve’s laughter to mix with yours.

“Ever since I woke up, everyone’s kinda been . . . gawking at me. Except for Director Fury, that is,” Steve said.

“Well, I’ll admit, I kinda gawked at you at first when I heard about you . . . But I saw you one time, in the medbay . . . I don’t know how to explain it, ‘cause you weren’t just Captain America, you know? When I saw you, with all the blankets and the wires and stuff . . . I just thought about a guy who had been something traumatic. I thought about the Steve that your war buddies always described you as,” you said.

From that day on, you were a light in Steve’s life. You two became fast friends and, at least on Steve’s part, his attraction for you grew exponentially, and you even spent some time with him at the Retreat. After joining the Avengers, he had been so busy that he hadn’t seen you and now . . . Your name was on a list of MIA Agents.

He paced up and down the hallway outside the conference room, hand tangled in his hair. All logical and rational thoughts jumped out the window as panic seized his body, twisting his heart into a knot. His mind was filled with you: your name, your image, your memory. He couldn’t stop his thoughts from giving him horrible scenes of you being tortured or experimented on by these freaks. Hurt. Kidnapped. Scared.

The only way to get you back was to return to the conference room and face it, so that’s what he did. Thankfully, no one called out his abrupt departure, they were all focussed on Hill’s debrief. She was saying something about how she thought they were close to finding another base of the group’s, where they might have the captured agents, but could use Natasha’s hacking and cyber skills to decode their intel. She readily agreed.

“Can you guys suit up and meet us at headquarters?” Maria asked, to which they all nodded. She ended the call and the Avengers all spurred into action, splitting up to change into their suits and arm themselves.

On the way out, Natasha patted Steve’s arm. “We’ll save them,” she assured her friend, but he picked up on what she was really saying: “We’ll find Y/N.”

Steve realized pretty quickly, as he changed into his suit that if he wanted to get through this without falling apart, he’d have to switch to his Captain mode. He had to think strategically - they were saving a team of agents, not just you (even if you were the most important agent to him). He’d put Natasha, Clint, and Tony on fighting the kidnappers, Bruce would standby with the medical team in case they needed the Hulk, and Steve himself and Thor would recover the hostages. He also assumed they’d have S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to secure the base and to back them up. It was a solid plan, Steve told himself, and it was going to work. It had to work.

When they got to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s headquarters, Steve relayed this plan to the team. Everyone was on board and now it was a waiting game as S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to crack the location. Steve was about to wear a hole into the floor with all the pacing he was doing, his heart hammering in his chest. Every second that passed felt like a decade.

After the location was found, it was all a blur. Coordinating with the agents, talking with Hill and Fury, and getting to the base seemed to just all pass by. The moment he woke up was when he was entering the base alongside Thor, the agents and Avengers ahead of them to take care of their enemies.

“I can handle the rescue, Captain. You can focus on your agent,” Thor chimed in as they walked down the hallway, towards the cells they were told the hostages were in.

Steve paused for a second to look at his friend. “Are-are you sure?” He asked – for once the mighty soldier was taken aback. He wanted nothing more than to devote all his attention to you, but he also knew he had a job to do as an Avenger and a leader. He owed it to all the hostages to give them his best self.

“He has me, of course he’s sure,” Tony’s voice came from behind them as he approached. Steve could practically hear the snark in his voice (Tony Snark, he should be named, but he’d have to save that quip for another time). “They’ve got it handled up there so don’t worry, Cap.”

Steve looked from him to Thor, who gave him an encouraging nod. “Okay,” he agreed, emitting an unspoken word of gratitude which both men received. For the first time in a long time, he felt a weight being lifted on his shoulders. For once, he got to abandon Captain America for a second and walk in there as Steve. For you.

The three Avengers walked down the rest of the hallway and turned, finding a row of cells. Thor and Tony took charge, allowing for Steve to glance through all the cells until he found you. Finding you was what he wanted but the sight he was met with when he actually laid his eyes on you shattered him. The urge to vomit and also send every person responsible for this to hell hit him in one fell swoop. You were sitting, slumped back against a dirty metal pole that your wrists and ankles were chained to. You were still wearing your S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform, though it was dirtied, bloodied, and torn in places. So was your skin, Steve realized. He ached at knowing you went through pain. Your eyes were closed and Steve hoped to God that you were simply sleeping.

Steve quickly bent to his knees and used his shield to break the chains, the harsh clang rousing you from your sleep. You mumbled something he couldn’t understand and he hushed you softly. “It’s alright, I’m here. It’s Steve, can you open your eyes?” He asked.

It took you a couple tries, but eventually you got there. “S’ve?” You tried to say, struggling to talk.

“Yep, it’s me,” he affirmed, feeling a pang at the fact that you could barely even speak. When he had thought about when he’d see you again, this was never in the realm of possibilities. “I’m getting you out of here.”

True to his word, he hoisted you up in his arms. He had to put you over his shoulder like a Fireman’s carry in case there were any lingering enemies that escaped the team. Being upside down was surely uncomfortable for you, but he wouldn’t risk not being able to defend you. With long strides and quick glances, Steve got you out of there.

Stepping outside into the world, he slowly lowered you down and maneuvered you into a princess carry, not going fast so as to not dizzy you. In the distance, he could see your other teammates getting loaded onto ambulances, with some of the Avengers assisting.

“Hey, you with me?” Steve checked in, returning his attention to you. You were definitely out of it, eyes glazed over as you looked at him. You didn’t seem to really get what was going on, but you didn’t look panicked, so you must’ve known you were safe. With him.

For a second - Steve was taken back. The tired look in your eyes reminded him of the aftermath of the first time the two of you had sparred together.

“Are you sure you want to spar together, Y/N?”

“What? You don’t think I can take you? Prepare to have your ass beat, Rogers!”

With the super soldier serum running through his veins, it was actually you who had your ass beat by the blond man. You had probably known that would happen when you said it, too. Still, Steve needed to train and you were determined not to let his superior strength intimidate you like it had done with the other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Afterwards, you had insisted you were fine, but Steve knew that the many rounds you guys went through had exhausted you. He tried to apologize, but you refused to hear it. You knew what the terms were and you agreed to it - he won fair and square. You had fallen asleep on his shoulder that night, much like how you looked like you’d fall asleep in his arms now, and Steve swore in that moment that you were the most precious thing ever.

“Steve,” you mumbled, blinking slowly at him like a cat. His heart thumped with such force in his chest - oh how he regretted drifting apart from you after he became an Avenger.

“Hang on a little longer. We’ve gotta get you to S.H.I.E.L.D. medical,” he said, shifting you up a little higher in his arms before heading over to the ambulances.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.?” You echoed grumpily, eyes half-closed.

Steve bit back an amused chuckle at the way you scrunched up your nose. Truly like a cat (or a kitten, but he knew you’d raise hell if he called you that). You never much appreciated the medical agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s. You knew they meant well, but something about the whole thing made you uneasy. Steve was well aware of that and he thought about it as you walked. The Avengers had a pretty good medical facility . . . Not to mention, the thought of leaving you again and walking away like he had done with the Avengers felt like a knife twisting in his gut. He couldn’t do that.

“Would you rather recover at the Avengers’ tower? I’m sure I can make the arrangements and I’ll, um, I’ll be around much more,” he offered, his eyes finding you again. He could never look away from you for too long.

Steve was still a little nervous about this. You had every right to say no, to be mad at him for abandoning you. If you did make the decision to go to S.H.I.E.LD., he’d show up in your room with flowers as much as you’d let him, he decided.

“Mhm,” you hummed, nestling your head against his bicep and closing your eyes.

That was like music to his ears. He knew that things between you weren’t 100% back to normal, but this felt better than what he had ever expected. With a newfound purpose and his feelings for you blossoming, he marched towards the other Avengers to tell them about their new addition to the compound.

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simmerandwrite · 1 year

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Sink Into Me - 02 - mob!Steve Rogers x plus size! reader

Pairing: mob boss!Steve Rogers x plus size female reader

Summary: You were simply doing a good deed, pulling the handsome stranger out of the way when a car jumped the curb. Little did you know that the life you saved belonged to Steve Rogers, the Army veteran turned art dealer with connections to the Brooklyn crime syndicate.

Steve Rogers, who won’t stop calling you his guardian angel.

Steve Rogers, whose new goal in life just might be repaying his debt to you.

Steve Rogers, who isn’t shy until it comes to his feelings and will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08

Wordcount: 6k

Warnings: canon level violence (series), body image issues (series), very brief mentions of animal abuse

Notes: hello! meet your friends - Maria Hill, Claire Temple and Wanda Maximoff. thank you all for being here and reading!! I appreciate your enthusiasm soooo much. things are :) about to get :) complicated :) if you see me out in the wild, my main blog is @simmerandcry

---

The skyline view from the floor to ceiling windows had been the real selling point to Steve taking the penthouse apartment at his latest investment property. Truthfully, he had been growing tired of the brick walls of his old place, despite their aesthetic charm. The new renters could live with that red dust now.

But the view into both Brooklyn and downtown towards Manhattan made him feel like he was exactly where he needed to be. Like he was on top of the world, his own little empire carved out in the heart of the borough. Most importantly, his apartment was his home. And that meant work didn’t come home with him, ever.

He drew that line very cleanly, even leaving the second bedroom fully intact as a guest room instead of converting to an office. Because this is where he needed to clear his head, to be Steve Rogers, the plain and simple Brooklyn born boy who loved his city.

Steve Rogers, the war veteran turned real estate mogul and art dealer, who sat at the top of what remained of an old Irish crime syndicate - that man worked on the streets, in the office, in his clubs and galleries and restaurants. That shit was not supposed to come home with him.

Though recently, it seemed to have started to bleed into what little time he spent at home. Mainly because of you and the whole incident outside the restaurant.

“Well, what’s the plan?”

“I already told you, Buck. I’m not retaliating.”

Bucky Barnes, Steve’s right hand man, his oldest friend and main confidant, the literal fist and brawn behind their organization, scoffed. “Someone sent an amateur barrelling into our territory to try and pin you between the hood of a car and your new restaurant - and you don’t want to retaliate? We coulda been weeping over your body right now, Steve.”

“I can recognize an act of aggression when I see it, I’m not an idiot.” Steve tipped his rocks glass against his lips once more, the scent of scotch lingering as he stood from the couch. “We don’t know if it was Rumlow or that new idiot creeping in from Staten Island.”

Steve rolled his eyes and cut off Bucky before he tried to add in his two cents again. “And if someone wanted to kill me, they wouldn’t hit me with a car. You know what. This was some stupid message that was poorly planned and equally poorly executed.”

Sam Wilson, who had been sipping his own concoction from the kitchen table, finally looked up from his phone and piped in. “I mean, I hate to admit it but Bucky is right. You would have been dead if it wasn’t for that beautiful woman saving your ass.”

“Sam.” Steve turned his head, eyes narrowed in a pointed glare.

“What? I’m not blind. The hips on her were-”

Steve took another step towards his friend and trusted colleague, who had a particularly loud mouth and a flair for getting on Steve’s nerves, and held up a steady hand. “Stop.”

He wasn’t inclined to admit it, but the entire thing had been replaying in Steve’s minds for days now. Ever since you had saved him on that sidewalk, throwing yourself into a dangerous situation for him, a total stranger, something had changed. He was still living, breathing, surviving. And although he was dead set on figuring out just who was driving that vehicle and ensuring they paid for their actions, it was you he couldn’t stop thinking about.

You. Who had been in the right place at the right time, who had risked your own personal safety to make sure he didn’t get hit, who was insistent that it had been an act of good faith, a simple act of kindness.

You, with the kind smile and generous curves. You, who swept off your actions as innocent and selfless, concerned more about the happiness of your dog than your own well being. You, who left Steve feeling curious and longing to get to know you, to make you smile, to hear you laugh.

God, what he wouldn’t give to have someone like you in his life. While he couldn’t stop thinking about the kind of person you were, he also had your face playing over and over again in his mind too. It didn’t help that his mom called him a few days ago, asking how you were doing and reiterating how much she enjoyed talking to you and…

“Still no news from Hammond?”

Steve knew Bucky couldn’t help but prodding, as if his fingers were itching to find a quick, efficient solution.

“He said their tech department is behind. I’m inclined to believe him but my insisting this is a priority hasn’t been successful this time. I’m trying to play nice.” Steve gritted his teeth, finishing the last sip of his drink as he stood, tugging on the lapel of his suit. “So I asked Stark to help instead. We’re meeting him at the club.”

---

The only good thing about your dreadful basement apartment was the private patio space in the backyard. You had high hopes for it when you rented the garden level unit but once your lease had been signed, everything about the place seemed a lot less shiny. From the shared laundry with the loud, obnoxious upstairs apartment to the inconsistent water pressure and flickering lights, you were counting down the days until your lease was over.

But the backyard - you had done what you could to make it a safe oasis for you and Hercules, with a few pieces of thrifted outdoor furniture and string lights making it a bit more magical. It was a nice location when hosting your girlfriends, especially when such a thing happened so rarely now that your schedules seemed to conflict all the time.

You were so grateful to have your girls. Because at any moment, they all loved to share their opinions on the weird chaos that seemed to stir up in your life. While you had known Maria since college, you had collected Wanda and Claire into your life since starting your new job in the city. You had worked as a server at the same restaurant as Wanda a few summers ago and Claire, an ER nurse, had dropped into your life by chance one night when you were stood up on a date at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen. Your group had been solid since then - although girls nights were few and far between now, with jobs and the general grind of life making it hard to get together often.

“I’m not saying the man isn’t attractive. Because I have eyes,” Maria was on her third glass of sangria, legs extended out on the brick patio outside. “I just have no reason to trust him.” She squinted down at her phone screen. “What did he say he did for work again?”

You sighed. Perhaps it was a mistake to share Steve’s name and photo - that you found after an extensive internet search - with your friends, but you valued their perspectives. It’s not like anything had happened with the guy. You hadn’t seen him since that day you saved his life and hadn’t communicated either, outside of you emailing him the stupid photo you took.

You had added his number to your phone, though. Just in case. Just in case what? You had no clue. But he had written it down for you and all.

And he said he owed you a thousand favours…

Officer Hammond, though, had reached out to you a few days after the event - asking you to come in and try and ID the driver in a police lineup. It made you feel a bit uncomfortable but you supposed it was your civic duty to do it, if it could help stop this from happening again or to help in delivering justice for wrongdoing. You pointed out the person you best recognized from your blurry memory and moved on, trying not to think any further about the situation.

Although a few strange things seemed to happen since then, if you just used your head it could all be justified. Like seeing the same black, unfamiliar SUV on your street multiple times this week. That was probably just a new vehicle belonging to one of your neighbours.

And that one time you were walking Hercules and a stranger who seemed to be lingering outside your apartment asked to borrow your phone.

Which you promptly said no to, because you aren’t dumb enough to let someone run off with your phone. But instead of going inside with Herc, you continued to circle the block until the blond stranger disappeared. You wouldn’t consider your neighbourhood the safest place after dark, but in the daytime you never felt concerned.

It was all just sort of weird.

But completely unrelated to anything else, you were sure.

That was all behind you now anyway, a strange footnote in the chapter of your life that was playing out. You’d probably never have to see Steve again, though he had crossed your mind a few times…

Okay, you had been thinking about him a lot. Which is why you had told your three closest friends about everything that had occurred.

You replied to Maria, who was nudging you with her elbow. “Oh. Uhm, he works in real estate, I think. He owns an art gallery and some apartments. Oh, and that club on Morgan Ave - Shield .”

“Sounds like a professional landlord. Thumbs down.” Claire chimed in from her chair too, shaking her head and dismissing the entire concept of Steve with a wave of her hand. “Rich at best, financially questionable at worst.”

“And he owns that restaurant the car smashed into?” Maria reached for her own phone. “The one owned by the mob. Okay, that settles it - he’s in the mob then.”

You laughed and shook your head. “The mob isn’t a thing, Hill. What’s your source on that again?”

Wanda shrugged and finally chimed in, fingers tapping idly against her wine glass as she turned towards you. “Describe his aura to me.”

You groaned, smirking as Claire rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh. “His aura?”

“You know, what kind of energy did he have?”

“Is that your way of determining the kind of person he is?” Maria got up from her chair to toss a small toy for Hercules to chase after. “I’d love to know the science between your aura theories, Wan.”

You delayed answering by grabbing the nearby bowl of popcorn and cradling it in your lap, leaving your phone and the thought of Steve on the small crate that sat between you and your friends. “He was very confident.” How could you do any justice to Steve’s intimidating Big Dick Energy without admitting your attraction to him? That last thing you wanted to do was bait your friends with any material to tease you with. Plus, really, it didn’t matter. You had no plans to ever see Steve again. And AND and, even if you did, what made you think it would be romantic in any way?

Steve was beyond hot - from the trimmed beard and deep blue eyes, to his easy charm and well dressed body. You had no doubt in your mind that the man probably had some equally hot partner. If not, he could have his pick of the entire city. There was no way you would be on his radar.

“I don’t know,” Maria chimed in once more, clapping her hands quickly. “This is the wildest meet cute story I’ve ever heard. If the man is so willing to do you some favours, maybe you should cash in on it, mob be damned. You know what they say about tall guys..”

“You just said you don’t trust him!” You laughed, tossing a piece of popcorn at her.

Maria just scooped it up and popped it into her mouth with a shrug. “I don’t trust any man. I trust you and your judge of character, though. Plus, you haven’t been on a date in forever so maybe this was some sort of fate driven happenstance.”

“The universe does work in weird ways,” Wanda agreed. “And you said he really filled out that suit so…”

“You should text him!” Claire sat up tall and straight, pushing her hair over one shoulder as an idea formulated in her brain. You were nervous. “I think how he reacts to a sudden text will be a perfect test.”

“It’s a Saturday night, I can’t text him! And a test of what? All I did was save the man’s life, there is nothing else to..” This was not how you wanted this to go. The last logical thing you could think of doing right now was messaging Steve Rogers anything. What would he think if you texted him out of nowhere on a Saturday night? “What would I even say?”

“Here, allow me.” Maria plucked your phone off the table and damnit, why did you ever tell her your passcode?

“Maria-”

“It’ll be harmless, I promise!” She glanced up from your phone and opened her eyes wide. “You need to stop playing safe. What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t reply?”

You sighed. YES. The fear of rejection crept up like a weird pain in your chest. “Yeah, I guess. He might think it’s a wrong number or some sort of spam message...”

“Then no harm, no foul.” Her grin grew even wider as she typed something out on the screen. She took a deep breath. You leaned over to see what she had crafted together and sighed. “It’s just a simple little push..”

---

Normally Steve would ignore then block an unfamiliar phone number, but this had been intriguing. Given that you hadn’t reached out to him at all, he had tried not to give much of his time to thinking about you. But when the text came in, without a lot of context or forewarning, he figured it was a small gamble to see how it could play out.

Unknown number [10:47PM]: hey, I need to cash in a favour S Rogers [10:49PM]: who is this? Unknown number [10:51PM]: 👀 🍑 🎁 🔄 🥞 S Rogers [10:55PM]: am I supposed to just guess what this means? Unknown number [10:59PM]: yes ;) S Rogers [11:02P:M]: it’ll be easier if you just tell me what you want, angel ;)

You hadn’t struck Steve as the type to flirt like this. If it was you, of course. He could really only safely assume, considering only a certain number of people had his phone number. And now, he finally had yours.

Tony had consolidated all the info he could find about you earlier that week. Steve didn’t feel great about asking Tony to dig into you, but since he had sent your picture for analysis after the delay at the police station, it sort of just happened. Frankly, Tony said your online presence was minimal. You were smart about keeping your social media secure and had a very thorough CV on LinkedIn. Otherwise, he didn’t have much information that you hadn’t already shared. And Steve had no intentions of doing anything suspicious with any of it, it just helped him understand who he had invited into a small corner of his life.

If that’s what he could call it. But you had crossed his mind over and over, and it didn’t help that Bucky kept bringing you up. Especially the part about Steve taking you to the clinic for help from Sarah. That resource was a well kept secret in their family and the fact that Steve took you there had been a big risk.

Beyond Steve’s unavoidable racing thoughts about you, he had been deep into a plan to deal with the actual problem - the group of idiots spilling into his Brooklyn territory. Tony had helped him with that too, finding names and dossiers on everyone who belonged to Rumlow’s extended Stryke gang causing a mess in the boroughs between Queens and Brooklyn.

For years, Steve had worked hard to make a respectable reputation for himself and now things were getting shaky. And it annoyed the shit out of him, especially when a few of the names Tony pulled were on the NYPD payroll.

“It’s messy,” Tony had said with a shrug, leaning back into the leather seat from their place at the top of the club.

Another property on Steve’s growing list - Shield was a popular nightclub in Brooklyn, which served as a perfect location for arms deals and financial transactions to float. For Steve and his old friend, tech mogul Tony Stark, it was a safe place to share theories and secrets. The upper level served as a secure hideout from the general population while the downstairs dance floor catered to obnoxious crowds looking for a drink or something else to roll on.

It was lucrative for Steve, to say the least.

“Let me know if you want me to get Rhodes involved.”

Steve shook his head. “He’s got enough on his plate. Is he ready for the campaign announcement?” Steve had a serious interest in the upcoming Mayoral election, especially if James Rhodes, former DA, planned on running. And with Tony bankrolling the campaign and some additional under the table support from Steve, it was going to be a shoe in.

“Oh, we’re just getting started, big guy,” Tony stood up and patted Steve on the shoulder as he left the corner area, flitting off in search of whoever might be going home with him soon enough.

Usually that would be Steve’s next step too, but damnit, if he couldn’t stop glancing at his phone for a response from you. Maybe calling you ‘angel’ again had been out of line. He contemplated sending another message, but no, he had to wait. He knew how to play this game.

The rest of the night carried on, with certain reports popping in with updates for Steve on what was happening out on the streets. Things like confirmed shipments at the dock and successful cash pickups. He had eyes across the whole of Brooklyn, with his growing syndicate working beneath him. Things mostly operated smoothly and this night was carrying on as normal.

Bucky showed up eventually, grumbling about getting turned down by some smart mouthed girl outside the club. Sam corroborated the story, lauding the woman and her tone.

Steve checked his phone, again.

“I saw Sharon downstairs,” Sam nudged Steve, eyebrows raised curiously. “Unless you’re off again-”

“We’re permanently off-again,” Steve rolled his eyes. “You have my blessing if you want to pursue, Sam. But good luck, don’t say I didn’t warn you..” That was all Sam needed apparently, finishing off his glass and heading back down to the dance floor below. Steve didn’t miss his cheeky grin.

“You’re thinking about that girl again, huh?” Bucky nodded and tried to hide his mischievous smirk as he scanned Steve’s face.

Steve scoffed. “No, no. I’m not..”

Bucky laughed, hard and incredulous. “I haven’t seen your head in the clouds like this in ages. Since whatsername in high school, maybe. What was her name?”

Then as if by some weird shift in the universe, Steve’s phone started to buzz. He left Bucky’s commentary lingering as he looked at the screen. You.

Ah, no text reply but a phone call? Okay, he could get on board. Standing, he headed a few steps from the lounge and brought his phone up to his ear, with a small smile. “Rogers.”

The first thing he heard was your frightened yelling. “Leave me alone! Jesus - oh my god, Steve? Is this Steve?”

He said your name quickly to confirm who he was speaking too but raised his eyebrows in concern. “What’s going on?”

“Someone is trying to - HEY! Stop -” Steve could hear banging in the background. “--trying to break into my fuckin - I’m going to CALL THE COPS! Leave me alone! Please, just..”

Steve closed his eyes, doing his best to focus on the background noise. Behind your defensive yelling and the attentive reactions of your dog, there was a mixture of other voices. Something about the voices felt familiar.

“We just want to talk.. Did someone offer you something for that statement? Was it Rogers?”

“If you tell Hammond you got the wrong guy, this will all be over very quickly, honey.”

“Walker, move, let me – Open the door, or we’ll open it for you. Let’s talk..”

“He didn’t offer me - Stop, please! I swear I -”

Steve nearly crushed his phone when the call dropped. He was off like a bullet train, shouting for Bucky to follow him as he pushed past his security guards on the stairs and rushed down towards the back exit of the club. He tried to call you back as he sped through traffic, blatantly bypassing stop signs and treating red lights like suggestions.

A heavy twisting feeling in Steve’s gut had told him that the aftermath of this entire situation wasn’t going to go smoothly. Especially with dumbass dirty cops on the inside who could share information to the highest bidder.

Steve felt a new responsibility to keep you safe, until this whole mess had been taken care of. He had plans to deal with it all on his own but now, if he hadn’t acted quickly enough and something had happened to you.. God, he couldn’t live with himself. How could he explain that to his mother?

He got to your apartment first, hoping Bucky was close behind. Steve didn’t know what he might be walking into but having backup was never a bad idea.

Steve had not only visited but had also lived in a lot of seedy neighbourhoods over the years. The street you lived on didn’t strike him as anything especially dangerous, but that thought enough couldn’t squash the unsettled feeling in his stomach as he approached. He pushed his way through the small metal gate beside the front stairs, towards the door to your garden level apartment.

His jaw clenched when he saw the damage to your door, clearly kicked in with plenty of force before being shoved closed. He glanced to the front window, nearby - that had been smashed, too. He tried to contain the growing fury and pressed on the door, calling out your name as he made his way inside.

As someone more than familiar with the real estate market, Steve could tell the bones of your apartment weren’t in the best shape. The entire townhouse was in desperate need of updating. But what concerned him more, outside of the low ceiling and old light fixtures, was what he could only assume was a new mess. Your coffee table had been smashed, creating a pile of kindling in your tiny living room. Papers were thrown about, a coffee cup sat shattered on the floor.

He called your name again as he went in, reaching inside his jacket to pull out his concealed handgun as he listened carefully. Once he stepped into the hallway leading to your tiny kitchen, he took a step back at the sudden lurch of your dog heading in his direction.

Then Steve heard your quiet voice. The dog retreated into the kitchen, planting himself in front of you as Steve turned to look in. His heart sank.

You were seated on the floor, back pressed against the wall. It was clear you were trying to hide, make yourself small. And was that… some sort of steak knife in your hand? When you finally looked up at him, your eyes were wide.

When you tried to press yourself even further back, eyeing down the gun in Steve’s hand, he slowly put it down on the counter and said your name. “Hey, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was just a precaution.” Shit. The way you reacted to the gun wasn’t a surprise but it made Steve even angrier. Whoever had been here, whoever had done this, well, they probably had guns too.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Steve crouched down, keeping his distance while Hercules acted as your bodyguard. He was trying everything in his power to maintain his composure but god fucking damnit, Steve needed to know who did this and he needed to deal with it. “Are you hurt?”

You took in a deep breath then just shrugged, relaxing just a fraction when Hercules circled around and flopped down to rest his head on your knee. “There were two guys, they had.. They had guns with them. They said they just wanted to talk to me, to … they kept talking about whoever the guy was who drove that SUV.” Your breath picked up as you recounted what had happened. “They..they smashed my phone and..” Slowly, you moved your hand up towards your neck, gently dragging your fingers against the tender skin on your collarbone. “..One guy he..” You winced at the memory.

The heat grew more and more in his stomach as he saw you shaking with fear, recounting whatever the fuck had just happened. How dare any of those fucking imbeciles lay their hand on you? And because of him? If he wasn’t sure of his next steps before, he was going to figure them out now. Because someone needed to pay for this.

His phone buzzed. He stood up and saw a message from Bucky, wondering if Steve needed his help inside. Steve took a step back, turning towards the front door.

“Don’t go,” you pleaded quietly, letting your hand linger in the air as you reached for him. “Steve, please..”

Steve stopped and turned back to you, giving his head a firm shake. “Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.”

---

A few hours ago you were saying goodbye to your friends as your sangria pitcher finally ran dry. And now? You and Hercules were in an elevator with Steve and his friend Bucky, heading to Steve’s apartment.

Everything that had just happened felt like a bit of a dream - a bad dream. A break in at your own apartment, being intimidated, harassed and assaulted by men with guns, zipping through Brooklyn with Steve as he promised you a safe space to stay for the night.

You didn’t say much to each other once you had left, but you could see the twist of concern and small decisions Steve started to make to ensure you felt secure. A hand at your back, a soft smile, extra attention being given to Hercules to make sure he was okay, too.

You hadn’t gotten into much detail yet but you knew Steve wanted to figure out who the men were who had done this. You were already dreading talking about it again. And god, you likely had another police experience coming your way. What was happening in your life and how could it go back to normal again?

“Hey,” Steve tipped his head towards the door as the elevator opened. You took the lead as you stepped out into the hallway, where just a small handful of apartment doors were spread out.

Steve’s building was a place you could only daydream about living in. You followed him through the door to his apartment, checking over your shoulder to see Bucky guiding Hercules behind you.

Bucky was incredibly kind to you throughout this whole thing, especially back at your apartment. He had patiently directed you as Steve made some phone calls, carefully standing outside your room as you packed a quick overnight bag. And he was very taken to Hercules, which you really appreciated.

Once inside Steve’s place, you made your way into the living room just past the foyer. Steve and Bucky moved into the kitchen briefly, exchanging a few hushed sentences out of your earshot.

When they joined you in the living room, they found you crouched down on the floor with Hercules. You tipped your head up to look at them. Bucky’s gaze was on his phone but Steve was watching you with a soft smile.

“Do you think he’ll be okay here tonight?” Steve took a knee on the other side of Hercules, slowly reaching his hand out to scratch behind his ear.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, just a bit, as you nodded. “Yeah, he’s pretty easy going usually.” As if on cue, your dog nudged his head against Steve’s hand for one more quick pet then trotted further into the living room, flopping down on the rug between the couch and windows. “All his adrenaline seems to have worn off.”

And so it seemed had yours.

A few minutes later you were sitting on the couch, with Steve planted in the chair across from you and Bucky standing over his shoulder, arms crossed. Steve leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he took you in.

God, even in the low light of his living room, the man was handsome. Wearing just a navy blazer and matching dress pants, over a black button up with no tie, he managed to look effortlessly intimidating and strangely welcoming. Like you had no reason not to trust him, as if the dark shadows behind his eyes were a sign of protection instead of a signal of something to be feared.

You took in a long breath and leaned back into the couch.

Steve dragged his tongue over his lips then let out a sharp breath. “Okay, so I need you to walk me through exactly what happened.”

You knew this was coming. The moment Steve insisted on not calling the cops, something shifted for you. This whole situation had escalated beyond what you were used to, that whomever these men were to Steve - it probably wasn’t good.

But when you looked over at Steve, as much as you wanted to shake with worry about what might happen next, you couldn’t. Despite being way out of your comfort zone, scared out of your mind, coming down from your own rush of adrenaline, you weren’t scared. Not anymore, not in his presence and under the additional watchful eye of his right hand man.

And so you told him and Bucky exactly what had happened. How your girlfriends had left, how you were finding the next episode of your favourite show to watch, how you had some writing to catch up on and planned on staying up late. Then you heard a noise outside, then a knock at your door.

Then… well, then you had called Steve when everything started unfolding.

And after the men managed to get beyond the door and push their way through to you, you had nowhere to hide. Once they smashed your phone, you were going to comply and do whatever they needed to, to get them out of your home but then one of them threatened Hercules, and even kicked him-

“Jesus,” Bucky muttered, teeth clenched. Before he could get his true feelings out, Steve held up his hand and had you continue.

“I shoved the guy who was closest to me, trying to go for the other idiot before he hurt Herc and then..” You closed your eyes, going into vague details about how the man pushed you back, how he shoved you into the wall, the kitchen counter. How he pulled out his gun and put his hand around your throat and..

When you opened your eyes again, taking in the silence of the room as you trailed off, Steve was watching you carefully. Though you safely assumed he was an expert at hiding his emotions, you could see a twitch in his jaw. His fists rested on his knees, clenched and turning white with tension.

“One of them got a phone call and I guess they were beckoned to leave. They had enough time to make more of a mess while I cowered away but..” You gulped, shaking your head. “What if they come back? I think I should just call Officer Hammond and-”

“No.” Steve stood up, taking barely a stride to make his way towards the couch. He took a seat beside you, extending his hand to ever so gently cradle your jaw, turning your head to look at him. He said your name softly, barely.. “I’m going to take care of this.”

Your safe feeling was depleting and as much as you wanted to argue, to put a stop to all of this, to do it the correct way, you couldn’t. Earlier, when the threat was outside your door, you didn’t think of calling the police. It was Steve who had crossed your mind. For some unknown reason, you had a feeling he would help you.

Steve pulled his hand away and stood again, shooting a glance to his friend.

Bucky cleared his throat, taking a step forward. “Doll, can you tell me what the guys looked like? Identifying features?”

You wanted to ask a thousand questions about what happened now, about what Bucky was planning on doing, about his metal arm and lack of hesitation to help Steve. But you just played along, delivering all the details you could. Once you repeated it all and answered a few of his questions, you sat up and leaned forward. “Oh. One of them went by Walker. I’m not sure if that’s a first name or..”

“Last name.” Bucky gave one nod before muttering out a tired laugh. “That fucking moron.” He looked at Steve. “Okay, I know where to go. Nat’s gonna meet me downstairs.”

Steve followed him to the door and you could hear their quiet conversation once more.

Twisting your hands together, you sat on the couch with your thoughts. You couldn’t believe how your night had played out. Really, if you thought about the last week of your life you’d be hard pressed to believe it was real life. How could the simple act of getting a person out of harm’s way lead to this?

When you heard Steve’s footsteps heading back towards you, after the door shut behind Bucky, you stood up and looked at him.

Okay, you had to ask. Because a lot of this felt nonsensical, impossible even.

“You don’t really work in real estate, do you?” With the most courage you could muster you met his gaze, which was stoic as he watched you. “My friend Maria had this crazy theory and.. I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into here, Steve. But this isn’t… I just did the right thing and saved you from being hit by a car and.. Now what? People with guns are breaking into my home and threatening my dog? And instead of going to the police.. I’m right here in your apartment - with you, a kind, handsome stranger who keeps offering to help and take care of me and I just don’t get it. Is this real?”

He didn’t falter or let his facade break when you spiraled. Instead, he motioned towards his kitchen. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

You sat with a steaming mug of chamomile at Steve’s kitchen island. His kitchen felt impressively Steve somehow too, with dark granite counters and cool grey tones decorating the tall cabinets. The light blue kettle that sat on his stove somehow humanized him even more though.

Steve opted to lean against the counter, shrugging off his suit jacket as he met your eyes. “So. First, let me just say - I don’t want you to feel like I brought you here for any other reason than keeping you safe tonight. I want you to feel safe here, with me. But if you don’t feel comfortable, you can leave. I will put you up in a hotel somewhere or if you have a friend you can stay with-”

You swallowed hard and brought your hand up. “No, that’s not.. I’m sorry for, uhm, going off a bit there. I just..” You left your mug on the island and leaned forward, balancing your chin on your hand while your elbow propped you up. You matched his gaze, somehow both honest and shy. “In college, my friends and I did this thing called honesty hour. Usually after a really late night or when we were a bit drunk. But the point is to be as honest as possible, but gentle, I guess. Feelings were always at risk but if it was after 2am, it was honesty only.”

A small smirk tugged at Steve’s lips as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. “Okay.”

“So. Honesty hour.” You nodded.

“What do you want to know?”

“Do you always carry a gun?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“There are often dangerous, poorly- intentioned people in my line of work.”

You narrowed your eyes, pausing to take a small sip from your mug. “Your line of work - in real estate and art gallery ownership?”

Steve let out a quiet laugh. “The scope of my day to day work goes well beyond that.”

God, you had so many other questions but you had a feeling Steve was not going to share any details with you. Maybe it was better that way for both of you. Because answering some of your questions might ruin everything. “Would you rather I not ask about that? Your.. full scope?”

“I don’t think it qualifies for your honesty hour, no.”

You were ready to counter with something but you figured it wasn’t worth pushing his buttons. After another big breath, you closed your eyes. “Do you think those guys are going to show up again? At my apartment?”

The mug that had been resting in Steve’s hand found a careful spot on the counter. He took a big step forward and leaned onto the island opposite you.

Your name left his lips. You opened your eyes.

“I promise they won’t.” It was clear some things were being left unsaid, hidden behind his reassuring smile. His hand landed on yours as it rested on the table. “Trust me when I say I’ll never let that sort of thing happen again.” You looked from him, focusing on the warmth in his eyes and how his palm felt against your skin and…

“My turn.” Steve ran his thumb over the top of your hand, as if searching for the softest spot. “You called me. How come?”

You had never been so grateful to hear someone’s phone ring, because you did not want to answer that question. He tried to ignore it but the buzzing in his pocket filled in the quiet that lingered between you. Just like that, whatever that moment was or could have been - vanished. He gave you an apologetic glance as he stepped away.

You sipped on your tea, feeling more and more run down by this whole situation. You were tired, finally and Steve’s big sweeping statements gave you some peace of mind. You trusted him, that was the only thing you were certain about.

Despite everything, including the silly rumours from Maria and the broken remains of your apartment on the other side of Brooklyn… There was something about Steve that made you feel okay about all of this.

But the thought of talking any more about it now made your thoughts spiral out of control. Truthfully, you needed to sleep. And you really needed to talk all of this through in the group chat with the girls. You desperately wished your phone was still functioning.

Before you could even let your train of thoughts derail, you heard Hercules’ feet tapping against the floors in search of you. You took one final sip of your tea and met him in the living room. Your boy was ready for bed too.

You hesitated though, glancing from him to the door. He looked that way too. Maybe it would be smart to take him out one more time before you headed to bed.

Steve found you near the door and reached his hand out to stop you before you could even grab your coat. “Hey. I can take him out, if you want to get ready for bed.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Please, I insist.” He grabbed Hercules’ leash from the small entry table and rested his hand on your shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about adopting a dog for months now so this is a nice reminder about responsibilities.”

Steve’s genuine smile was unmatched and, well, Hercules just looked excited for one last moment of fresh air. “Okay, fine. For your own research purposes. Thanks Steve.”

He waved his hand and pulled on a coat from the hanging rack. “The guest room is just down there.” With his free hand he pointed down the hall behind you. “First door on the right. Bathroom across the hall.”

The minute Steve was outside the door with Hercules, you made your way to the bedroom. You nearly gasped when you opened the door, considering the space was practically the same size as your entire apartment. And god, the view from the windows. A full floor to ceiling piece of glass illuminated Brooklyn below.

The bathroom was just as impressive. After finding a fluffy towel and figuring out how the shower and faucet functioned, you let yourself get consumed by the water. Though you felt far past your breaking point, you held back your tears. Yes, the entire night behind you had been a rollercoaster. And yes, you were nervous about what tomorrow was going to bring.

But you were safe. That’s all that mattered.

Chapter 01 - Chapter 03

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #mob boss steve rogers #stever rogers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #plus size reader #stever rogers x plus sized reader #mob boss stever rogers x reader #simmerandcry #simmerandwrite #simmer writes #story: sink into me

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star-xxx1 · 11 months

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My world, Maria -

Maria hill x reader

Alternative ending to their words and touch hell like hell.

@wifeofnatasharomanoff prompted this idea so thank you! As said I made it extra fluffy, I hope this is good enough :)

Warnings: fluff, fluff, and more fluff, baking?

Summary: cookie time!

Sleeping next to her, your body curled into hers, your head pressed against her chest. Even though your asleep, your still breathing peacefully. She can tell there's a contentness on your face. It's hard to explain, she can almost feel it just looking at you. It's a beautiful picture. It looks like you could sleep for a long time, and you certainly seem happy here - in her arms. For a moment, she swears she see your lips smile slightly.

You opens your sweet eyes, and look up at her. She smiles softly.

"Good morning, mia" you muttered.

Your eyes seem a little hazy as you open them. rubbing them gently, yawning a little at the same time. Then, after that, your eyes seem to get clearer, brighter, and more focused, and the tiredness seems to fade from your face. You seems a little more awake now, sitting up.

Maria tucked your free hair behind your ears, kissing you.

"Hi my love" she whispered lovingly.

That nickname 'Love'.

She can finally call you that without any consequences. After years of hiding her feelings. She was was infatuated with you but was respectful of your then current relationship. After Wanda and Natasha hurt you and you founded out Carol's true dark demeanor you left. Resigning and packing with out a word, seeking out Maria for help.

Every kiss on that mission, left her a flustered mess, trying her best to conceal her rosy cheeks. Catching feelings for the goddess of a women, during one on your platonic cuddle sessions. She confessed when she thought you were sleeping, saying a heart felt message. Upon waking up you told her that you heard and gave her a passionate kiss, telling her you had catched feelings too, becoming official and soon moving in together. Maria then resigned too, finding a other local, good paying job to support you and her.

"Cookie time!" You screeched. Last night you really wanted to make cookies together but it was too late. Mia promised that you both could make them tomorrow, with a sad nod you cuddled in the women and drifted off to sleep.

"But we should probably brush our teeth first" you realized. She nodded.

"Sounds good, dear."

She stretches a little, still sitting next to you. She seems sleepy, but happy to be up now. She smiles as she turns to you, and says...

"Alright, let's go."

She stands up from the bed, and waits for you to join her. Holding her hand you proceeded to the bathroom.

Whilst brushing your teeth Maria pulled you in by the waist, keeping you close to her. Resting your head against her shoulder, you both glazed loving at each other through the the mirror. Spitting out the minty foam In sync, you both washed your face.

Reaching the kitchen mia and you were ready to make those cookies. When she thinks about it, she realizes she's never baked before. She giggles a bit.

"I'm new to this!" She laughs, following you around the kitchen, watching you pull out all the enquipment and ingredients.

"So I really appreciate your patience with me." She piped.

"No problem Mia you know how much I love you!"

"I love you too y/n/n" she gleamed

Instructing Maria and working at the same time did make quite a mess but that okay, you both would clean that up later. 30 minutes later the cookies had been out in the oven a timer had been set.

"Do you want a piggie back my love? "she questioned.

"Hell yea!" you jumped onto her back letting out happy screams. She ran into the the living room throwing you on the couch, smothering you with her body. Wrapping your legs around her torso, you raked your fingertips through her hair, kissing her forehead.

"I love your boobs" she broke the comfortable silence, with the very know compliment.

"As you say Mia, over and over again"

"I can't help it!" She protested.

"If you say so my love, tv?" You asked.

"Mhm, put on ever you want" she chimmed passing you the remote.

One episode down of your favorite show and the timer ringed throughout the house.

"I'll go get them hunny" Mia got up and disappeared into kitchen, re-emerging with a plate of delicious cookies. "I think they turn out pretty good don't you think?" Placing down the cookies on the glass coffe table Infornt of you.

Peering over to the plate you said...

"Yeah they look really good" agreeing with your girlfriend proudly.

Resettling into your pervious positions, you both tried the cookies letting out a hum of joy. They were so good and your were very proud of Maria for trying her best.

Pressing 'next episode' you continued the show with a big smile on your face. As you eat, she seemed very happy. Her face has a slight sparkle in her eyes, and she seems excited

This is nice.

She continues to snuggle up against you, eating the cookies.

She pauses, and you can tell she wants to say something. And even though her mouth is full, her voice still has a certain kindness to it.

"You know, you do make me very happy... you know that, don't you? And I love you so much"

You heart fluttered.

"I love you too Mia, so much" you rejoiced while kissing her cheek.

That same rosy blush appearing, the same one she doesn't have to hide anymore, and she was truly delighted she didn't have to.

#maria hill #maria hill x reader #maria hill x y/n #maria hill fluff

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untoldreader · 1 month

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Forever Bound

Natasha Romanoff x Reader x Maria Hill

Summary

In the final chapter, Maria, Natasha, and Y/N embrace their love fully, embracing a future filled with hope and possibility. They realize that their love is timeless, an eternal flame that will guide them through whatever challenges lie ahead

Warnings

none?

Tag list

@nayarianna1302 @alexawynters @tigerlillyruiz

Chapter 6

In the depths of their love's resilience, Maria, Natasha, and Y/N found themselves on a journey that would forever intertwine their lives. Their connection had grown from a hidden flame to an unyielding fire, and they were ready to embrace a future where their love would know no bounds.

As they embarked on this new chapter, they faced moments of profound joy and profound sorrow. Life's challenges continued to test their resolve, but they stood united, their love serving as an unbreakable foundation. They celebrated each other's triumphs, finding solace and strength in the knowledge that they were not alone in their struggles.

Their personal lives flourished alongside their professional endeavors. Maria, Natasha, and Y/N created a home filled with love, trust, and understanding. They nurtured their individual passions and supported each other's dreams, knowing that their shared love was the fuel that allowed them to reach new heights.

Together, they explored the world and embraced the beauty of life's simple pleasures. They reveled in stolen moments of serenity—a sunrise shared, a quiet evening by the fireplace—cherishing the precious gift of time spent together. Their love had become an anchor, grounding them amidst the chaos of the world.

As their relationship deepened, they began to envision a future where their love would endure. They dreamed of building a life filled with love, laughter, and shared experiences. They knew that the road ahead would still be filled with challenges, but their unwavering commitment to one another gave them the strength to face whatever came their way.

In this chapter, they also faced the inevitable passage of time. They witnessed the changing world around them, bidding farewell to loved ones who had played significant roles in their lives. They learned the bittersweet lesson that life was fleeting and that every moment spent together was a treasure to be cherished.

Through it all, their love remained constant. It was a love that had weathered storms, conquered doubts, and defied expectations. It had grown from a seed of secrecy into a love that was unafraid to shine brightly in the world.

========================

Chapter 6 ended with Maria, Natasha, and Y/N standing together, forever bound by the unbreakable thread of their love. They knew that their journey was not without its challenges, but they faced them with courage, knowing that their love would guide them through the darkest of times.

They embraced the unknown future, hand in hand, hearts intertwined. Their love had become a story of resilience, strength, and unwavering commitment. And as they walked forward into the horizon, they did so with the knowledge that their love would endure, forever binding them together in a tapestry of love that transcended time and space.

The End :)

#marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #maria hill x reader #blackhill #Eternal Flame: A Maria Hill #Natasha Romanoff #and Y/N Love Saga

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kithj · 2 months

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i made these slides for instagram for thirst's english publication but i'll share them here too :-)

i'm trying to compile a decent lesbian & sapphic vampires shelf... of these, i've read house of hunger & carmilla, though i was recently recommended this specific version of carmilla which is edited by Carmen Maria Machado, and i look forward to reading her commentary (and this version of the book is really lovely)

links & descriptions in order, under the cut

Carmilla

Isolated in a remote mansion in a central European forest, Laura longs for companionship—until a carriage accident brings another young woman into her life: the secretive and sometimes erratic Carmilla. As Carmilla’s actions become more puzzling and volatile, Laura develops bizarre symptoms, and as her health goes into decline, Laura and her father discover something monstrous.

A Dowry of Blood

Saved from the brink of death by a mysterious stranger, Constanta is transformed from a medieval peasant into a bride fit for an undying king. But when Dracula draws a cunning aristocrat and a starving artist into his web of passion and deceit, Constanta realizes that her beloved is capable of terrible things. Finding comfort in the arms of her rival consorts, she begins to unravel their husband's dark secrets. With the lives of everyone she loves on the line, Constanta will have to choose between her own freedom and her love for her husband. But bonds forged by blood can only be broken by death.

An Education in Malice

Deep in the forgotten hills of Massachusetts stands Saint Perpetua's College. Isolated and ancient, it is not a place for timid girls. Here, secrets are currency, ambition is lifeblood, and strange ceremonies welcome students into the fold. On her first day of class, Laura Sheridan is thrust into an intense academic rivalry with the beautiful and enigmatic Carmilla. Together, they are drawn into the confidence of their demanding poetry professor, De Lafontaine, who holds her own dark obsession with Carmilla. But as their rivalry blossoms into something far more delicious, Laura must confront her own strange hungers. Tangled in a sinister game of politics, bloodthirsty professors and dark magic, Laura and Carmilla must decide how much they are willing to sacrifice in their ruthless pursuit of knowledge.

House of Hunger

Marion Shaw has been raised in the slums, where want and deprivation is all she knows. Despite longing to leave the city and its miseries, she has no real hope of escape until the day she spots a peculiar listing in the newspaper, seeking a bloodmaid. Though she knows little about the far north--where wealthy nobles live in luxury and drink the blood of those in their service--Marion applies to the position. In a matter of days, she finds herself the newest bloodmaid at the notorious House of Hunger. There, Marion is swept into a world of dark debauchery--and at the center of it all is her. Countess Lisavet, who presides over this hedonistic court, is loved and feared in equal measure. She takes a special interest in Marion. Lisavet is magnetic, and Marion is eager to please her new mistress. But when her fellow bloodmaids begin to go missing in the night, Marion is thrust into a vicious game of cat and mouse. She'll need to learn the rules of her new home--and fast--or its halls will soon become her grave.

Thirst

It is the twilight of Europe’s bloody bacchanals, of murder and feasting without end. In the nineteenth century, a vampire arrives from Europe to the coast of Buenos Aires and, for the second time in her life, watches as villages transform into a cosmopolitan city, one that will soon be ravaged by yellow fever. She must adapt, intermingle with humans, and be discreet. In present-day Buenos Aires, a woman finds herself at an impasse as she grapples with her mother's terminal illness and her own relationship with motherhood. When she first encounters the vampire in a cemetery, something ignites within the two women—and they cross a threshold from which there’s no turning back. With echoes of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and written in the vein of feminist Gothic writers like Shirley Jackson, Daphne du Maurier, and Carmen Maria Machado, Thirst plays with the boundaries of genre while exploring the limits of female agency, the consuming power of desire, and the fragile vitality of even the most immortal of creatures.

A Long Time Dead

Poppy had always loved the night, which is why it wasn’t too much of a bother to wake one evening in an unfamiliar home far from London, weak and confused and plagued with a terrible thirst for blood, to learn that she could no longer step out into the day. And while vampirism presented several disadvantages, it more than made up for those in its benefits: immortality, a body that could run at speed for hours without tiring, the thrill of becoming a predator, the thing that pulls rabbits from bushes and tears through their fur and flesh with the sharp point of a white fang. And, of course, Roisin. The mysterious woman who has lived for centuries, who held Poppy through her painful transformation, and who, for some reason, is now teaching her how to adjust to her new, endless life. A tight, lonely, buttoned-up woman, with kindness and care, pressed up behind her teeth. The time they spend together is as transformative to Poppy as the changes in her body, and soon, she finds herself hopelessly, overwhelmingly attached. But Roisin has secrets of her own, and can’t make any promises; not when vengeance must be served. Soon, their little world explodes. Together and apart, they encounter scores of vampires, shifty pirates, conniving opera singers, ancient nobles, glamorous French women, and a found family that throws a very particular sort of party. But overhead, threat looms—one woman who is capable of destroying everything Poppy and Roisin hold dear.

This Ravenous Fate (expected August 2024 release)

It's 1926 and reapers, the once-human vampires with a terrifying affliction, are on the rise in New York. But the Saint family's thriving reaper-hunting enterprise holds reign over the city, giving them more power than even the organized criminals who run the nightclubs. Eighteen year-old Elise Saint, home after five years in Paris, is the reluctant heir to the empire. Only one thing weighs heavier on Elise's mind than her family obligations: the knowledge that the Harlem reapers want her dead. Layla Quinn is a young reaper haunted by her past. Though reapers have existed in America for three centuries, created by New World atrocities and cruel experiments, Layla became one just five years ago. The night she was turned, she lost her parents, the protection of the Saints, and her humanity, and she'll never forget how Elise Saint betrayed her. But some reapers are inexplicably turning part human again, leaving a wake of mysterious and brutal killings. When Layla is framed for one of these attacks, the Saint patriarch offers her a deal she can't refuse: to work with Elise to investigate how these murders might be linked to shocking rumors of a reaper cure. Once close friends, now bitter enemies, Elise and Layla explore the city's underworld, confronting their intense feelings for one another and uncovering the sinister truths about a growing threat to reapers and humans alike.

Unholy with Eyes like Wolves (expected April 2024 release)

Noémie, a dishonored and widowed noblewoman in early 17th century Hungary, finds herself in an unenviable position: After grievous trauma and loss, her last chance to regain her honor comes when she must serve as Lady Erzsébet Báthory’s handmaiden. Báthory is stoic and imperious, and as Noémie struggles to acclimate and accept her present and future, she begins to have dreams about a mysterious woman. Worse, there are stories of disappearance and deaths in the castle, and Noémie might be next.

#so many carmilla retellings lmao #i just bought an education in malice today. as a treat #my tbr is all over the place but i would like to read most of these this year....#books #my posts #vampires

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