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avengerthoughts · 5 months

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When The Sky Falls - Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Authors Note: Hello! I honestly had a lot of fun writing this, and it's been in my drafts FOREVER, so I hope you like it ! At first I intended to write this into just a single shot, but then I got carried away with actually writing it, so it'll have to be a multi-part series. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Non-Graphic mentions of past torture, general sad backstories that comes along with villain origins. Tony's kind of an ass in this, I'm soRRY !!!! kind of star-crossed lovers ????

Pairing: Pietro x Reader

Prompt: Like the twins, you were a HYDRA experiment; your powers focus mainly on healing and wound transferring. Your past is a dark secret for Tony, and what happens if he finds out when it's too late?

Words: 4,783

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War.

That's what united the three of you. Having not only Ultron in common, but also HYDRA as well. You had arrived at Hydra first, but the memory of how you wound up there, or anything predating, was nothing but a dark abyss. The only memories that managed survival were early memories of experimentation. Injections, tests, so many that there isn't even a number anymore.

The twins arrived at the same facility years after you had, and since they were kept in the cells next to you, friendship was inevitable. You never got to see them while you were kept captive by HYDRA scientists, but you had little things. Small cracks in the walls, holes that were barely big enough to fit a finger through and sometimes even smaller than that. It may not have been much, but it was enough, and the happiness it provided was nothing like you had ever felt before.

You'd never really had a friend before, then.

Naturally, those within HYDRA weren't too fond of the yapping you three did, and you had found out the hard way the first time they overheard a conversation between you and Wanda. As a consequence for disobedience, they had punished you harshly as a result, despite the pleas and the apologies that left your mouth as they dragged you off.

They had done such a number that you couldn't see properly for a week straight after, and could barely move enough to retrieve your daily food rations. After that, you three learned to only talk when night fell. While no one kept prisoner within HYDRA's walls were ever privy to the beautiful night sky, it was easy to tell when night had fallen. The staff would thin out, and what staff remained would be more focused on their 'important work' than three measly prisoners in the corner.

Still, on their first days you managed to give them a quick run down on things before they had caught you that day. When the best time to sleep was, what to look out for in their meals in case they tamper with it, and how if they ever got hurt too badly all they had to do was sit beside one of the finger-sized holes in the wall and you'd be able to heal them by just touching them. Your first punishment though is what prompted them to ask why you couldn't just heal yourself.

Truthfully? It was the one question you could never answer, and neither could HYDRA. Whatever powers ran through your veins went completely null whenever you used it on yourself, except for the psychic shields. That was the only thing, so it sort of balances out, in a way, but after that they felt a bit more protective of you. The three of you have been inseparable ever since. Along with your healing abilities came an ability to, of course, use psychic shields (or force fields as they're more commonly known by), but also light forms of telekinesis, and an ability to transfer a persons injuries to your own body.

HYDRA was currently training you in the ability to provide a cloak of invisibility to another person within your psychic shield, something that was proving a little more challenging to learn. Transferring wounds, however, is something you often did with the twins when your healing magic wasn't working right that day or you couldn't muster the energy for it, and they only figured it out when Wanda noticed a slight difference. When you actually healed them with magic, your hands would glow white, like an angel, and when Wanda had caught notice of it she was sure to ask you.

After that, she only let you heal her if you could with magic. In part because she couldn't stand the thought of you taking on her injuries, but also because she knew her brother was worse off, and that there was no way in hell that she'd be able to talk you out of transferring his wounds, not in a million years. However, it wasn't a one-sided friendship either, the three of you were there for one another in a way that nobody else could. Not even Bucky; even with his own experience in HYDRA, it still wouldn't be the same.

Wanda, Pietro, and yourself all lived it together, and that set the foundation for an unbreakable bond. It was no surprise when they broke you out of the facility after being released themselves, and it was even less of a surprise when you had followed them and joined forces with Ultron. Their own trauma was separate from yours, and while you may not know what it's like to sit three feet from a bomb for two days straight, but you knew rage.

You knew anger.

And you were angry for them.

When they finally broke you out of the facility, it was the first time you had actually were able to see their faces, and them your own. It was also then that Wanda had granted you with memories of the past, and the memory shards she had when she uncovered a bit about your past on her own (lots of face-punching got her those memories). Pietro was gentle with you then, giving you the biggest of hugs. While Pietro already had a special spot in your heart, your time together with him solidified it.

You knew you were in this together with them, no matter what. You fell for him, and you fell hard, but you always focused on giving your friends the revenge they deserved.

What you didn't know, is that Pietro knew.

Well...

Kinda.

He's not exactly the smartest guy around when it comes to dating.

He thought your crush was more superficial, like you didn't REALLY like him, like you just thought he was hot and that you were just looking for fun.

Did that make any sense? Did you even show any signs that you were even interested in that kinda stuff?

Absolutely not, he's an idiot, but, ya'know, he's your idiot.

He makes up for being an idiot by being a fucking gremlin (read: he makes it a personal hobby to tease you a TON, and to see just how much he can make you blush like an idiot in a day. Shared idiocy, if you will, just a town over. Idiotcity, and idiotvile.)

Wanda has tried many (many, please just pay her for her matchmaking services at this point) to explain things to the both of you; explain to her brother that you like him for more than just his stupid biceps, and explaining to you that her brother is an idiot (but a sweet idiot. Most of the time-).

The thing is he likes you too, more than he lets you see, more than he's even told his sister, and every single day he fights the urge to just sit you down and spill everything to you even though he thinks you won't return his feelings to the same degree. And everyday you do the same.

A weird love limbo (that sounds weird, maybe not a limbo, maybe like....love purgatory??).

It got worse when you had fallen into a style you liked; practical in nature, for all the fighting you'd be taking part in, except for all the white. White leather pants so you could move without worrying about anything showing that shouldn't be, but you kept your top small and skin-tight, because running raises body temperature, and you're more of an agile, keep-dodging-swings-like-a-roach-you-can-never-kill person than someone who drenches themselves in combat.

And boots that actually were practical boots and not New York Fashion Week boots. Your sleeves were detached from your actual top; starting at your elbow in a silver cuff, translucent fabric hugging your forearm comfortably to a tie around your finger, while the other part of the sleeve billowed down to your side, sort of medieval royalty style, and boy did you look like fucking royalty to him.

Even now, he still can't help but stare at you, captured by how beautiful you look. In all white like an angel, but decorated in silvers and blues like an elf.

Elf angel?

Heavenly elf?

He doesn't know, all he knows is that you're drop dead gorgeous, and he loves the way you look so divine, and the way your top hugs your--damn it. Don't look there Pietro, are you a fucking idiot? (yes.)

That being said, he flirts with you.

A lot.

Sometimes just because he can, but mostly because he really really (REALLY) likes you, and can't help it. Naturally, you actually flirt back.

That's how your damnation into the love limbo purgatory was birthed, really. It put the both of you in this odd place of no PDA has actually been exchanged, but you flirt often enough that Wanda has to make fake throwing up sounds to get you two to stop half the time.

The thought of you actually being in love with him never actually crosses his mind with any substance, not even when Wanda tries to explain it, he's always thought it was more of a superficial crush because....well, frankly, he doesn't think he's good enough for you.

It sounds crazy, he knows, The Amazing Pietro (cue muscle flash here) insecure?? Feeling something more than just thinking you're cute, more than just....liking you as a friend. It's a strange feeling, strange enough that it's not like anything he's felt in the past. It's real, this love he feels for you, and maybe....just maybe....he's scared of losing you if he says anything.

It shows prominently when The Avengers meet the four of you in the Salvage Yard. Since you didn't have that excellent of offensive powers, you had hidden in the shadows, kept a psychic field on Wanda to make sure nothing hurt her, and just when Ultron was giving a speech from a place of deep seeded hatred, Tony had showed up just in time. Cracking witty jokes, as if everything was just peachy.

"This is funny? It's what, comfortable?" Pietro had questioned as he stepped forward, and you kept a precautionary field around him, "Like old times?"

"This was never my life." Stark had defended, and you narrowed your eyes as you stepped forward in turn, but stayed behind Pietro.

"No?" You questioned, "But you supplied it, you funded it; took black-tie pictures next to the military officials that were peddling the devastating weapons you created; caring more about the girls around your arm than the families you were killing." You tilted your head, knowing you were getting into his.

It didn't take like for all hell to break loose, and in the chaos Captain America had sent his shield flying at you when you had made a move to use your psychic shield around Ultron. While Wanda was quick to use her own powers to take him down, it wasn't in time to prevent the shield from crashing into your abdomen and breaking a rib or two, and the subsequent piece of metal you crashed into as a result of the shield's velocity.

A broken rib and a gash in your side might be enough to take a normal person down, but HYDRA has done worse to you. Still, Wanda helped you up and made a mental note to check back in on you when all this mess was said and done. Thanks to your time with HYDRA you'd grown used to tuning out the pain for small waves of time, and combined with the adrenaline rushing through your veins, you had no problems putting a psychic bubble around Pietro as he fell to the floor below, just to be sure he wouldn't get hurt.

When Wanda left to do her mind tricks on the Avengers, you jumped down to a slightly dazed Pietro, and Cap giving him blow and telling him to stay down. A strong emotion of protectiveness overcame you and the next thing you know, you're encasing him in a psychic shield and flinging him across the room.

"Pietro!" You exclaimed, rushing to his side, "Pietro, are you okay?"

"Ah," Pietro sighed, shaking his head a little to try and center himself again, "Yeah, yeah I'm good." It wasn't until he had actually moved his head to look at you that he saw the blood staining the white of your attire, and his eyes widened in both worry and fear.

"Princessa," He uttered out, moving closer to you, hands already at your side to inspect the gash "What happened? How bad are you hurt? Which of them did this?"

"I'm fine, silly boy," You shook your head, placing your hands on top his, "When the shield hit me, I fell onto something sharp, that's all. I'll be fine. A rib is definitely broken, but Hydra has done far worse to me, it's nothing I can't handle. I am a tank, very strong." You jokingly flashed your arm muscles to lighten the mood.

Pietro had looked at you skeptically, not fully believing that you were as okay as you were making it seem. There was a good amount of blood still staining your otherwise white top and he couldn't help but question whether or not you were telling him the truth, and the little jump of fear in his heart got the better of him. He held eye contact with you as his grip got just a bit more firm.

"Promise me you'll watch out more, okay?" Pietro practically begged with puppydog eyes that tugged on the strings of your heart just right, "You cannot heal yourself, but you can still use your shields. Care for yourself as I care about you, I've lost a lot, I can't lose you too, okay? Just...promise me?"

"Hey," You spoke softly when you noticed his eyes pooling a little, even as he tried to blink them away, and you moved one of your hands to cup his cheek, "I promise, okay? I'll be more careful."

In all the time you'd shared together, he'd never actually saw you injured before, not even in Hydra. Sure, he could hear it, hear your screams from down the hall, hear your groans of pain when they threw you back into your cell, but he never actually saw anything, and seeing that large cut in your side and all that blood staining your top? It struck a chord in him, and he realized he couldn't live without you.

He also realized he couldn't live without getting to punch Captain America in the face for that whenever he got a chance to.

Which he did, after you two had both gotten up to help Wanda make sure she could spin her webs of fear.

It's a good thing that HYDRA managed to successfully train you in that invisibility thing before you were broken out, because it came in handy when cloaking Wanda from Thor after she had finished putting her spell on him, and Natasha so she wouldn't hear her coming, but you weren't there in time to protect her from Clint. Pietro got there first, literally flinging him across the room after seeing him hurt Wanda (and winning a Best Brother Of The Year Award), and quickly took Wanda to safety to recover.

What Pietro didn't know was that you had lingered behind to bend down to Clint and let him know that it was very mean to electrocute unarmed foes.

"That wasn't very nice of you," You scolded with furrowed brows, "Were you just going to electrocute her to death? I believe that's illegal in what, at least 20 states."

"No offense, but I'm not taking lessons on morality from back alley Shee-Ra." Clint groaned, "Maybe next time if you got the cape on."

"Shee-Ra?!" You nearly screeched with excitement, "You really think so?! I love Shee-Ra--wait, old stuff or new stuff?"

"What?"

"The old Shee-Ra or the new Shee-Ra?" You asked before sighing, "Whatever, it doesn't matter, old man. I'm the original Shee-ra and you, my not-friend, are healed."

What are you-" Clint questions as you put your hands on him, healing the rib he was recovering from. "What?"

"There. That wouldn't have healed on it's own, not properly," You explained calmly, standing back up, "I don't want people dead, I just want my friends to have justice. Please do not do that brain thing again, we are not prisoners on Death Row."

You moved to leave the office you both were in, ready to leave a very confused Clint questioning your motives and true nature, when darkness hit you. Ultron had decided to take you out himself when he saw that you had healed the enemy. From there you were taken onto the jet with the rest of the team; in part to question you, but also to do you the same courtesy you did Clint. If you'd been left there, you would've been killed by Ultron himself.

Clint had explained the whole....encounter to the team, and while they were all wondering why you were really with Ultron then if you'd been so willing to heal Clint, they still kept you in handcuffs. But they put the seatbelt on you too. When you woke up, it was the next day and while everyone had already emptied into the 'Safe House', you were kept in the jet. Naturally, being the enemy is reason enough, and there was no hope for release until one of them came in and started the interrogation.

Wiggling out of the restraints was pointless too, and it hurt. Now you were reminded of your wounds, and as a result their pain now that you didn't have the adrenaline to help. They even parked the jet so they could leave the door open without you actually seeing the house. Nothing but sticks, grass, and branches as far as the eye can see. In the silence, you wondered if your friends made it out okay, if they completed their plan, if they were missing you, what Ultron would tell them both.

Would they forgive you?

Would they kill you if they saw you?

Would Ultron lie?

Was what you did truly so awful?

If you don't get out of here soon you'll never know, you'll die from an infection first. And you were hungry, starved (quite literally). Would they even feed you? Probably not, right? I mean what's the reason to? You're the enemy, allied with people actively trying to destroy them, if anything they should kill you after interrogating you. That's not the style of The Avengers, though. They'll just let you rot either in prison or in a SHIELD cell, where you'll probably be experimented on like you were at HYDRA.

Thor was gone, Natasha was pretty much out of commission, and Tony had been sent to fix a perfectly working tractor, it was left to Steve to question you. Thankfully, Steve came with lunch though, so it made it less anxiety inducing to see him walking up to jet's ramp to set the plate in the seat beside you.

"I know you must be hungry," Steve speaks, releasing you from your handcuffs so you could eat, "When we're done talking, there's a medkit inside, whether you go inside to get it or it's brought to you, depends on you."

You eyed him suspiciously, quietly, wary of his kindness when you should be held prisoner right now. What angle was he working? Was this something that was going to be held over your head later? That's what HYDRA would do. Then they would kill you. Or they would kill your family in front of you, maybe pluck out an eye, and then kill you. The polite smile he offered didn't help either, and you couldn't help but slowly put the plate into your lap, eyeing it for any suspicious activity before returning your gaze to him.

"Why?" You question, not taking a single bite of food until you know for sure it isn't poisoned, "You're being kind. Nice. Why?"

"You don't want to hurt people. I mean sure, you're with the bad guy," Steve shrugs casually, eyeing you, "but...you don't do what the bad guy does. The only time you engaged in combat was when I had hit that guy, and Clint hit Wanda, you were only on defense because you care about them. You weren't hitting to kill."

"You could've thrown me into a sharp pole, or killed Clint when he was down, but you healed him, helped him. Why?" Steve continues his questioning and you look down, pushing the broccoli around.

"You may not have hurt me, mister Rogers, but my friends are angry with you....so I am angry with you," You had begun, "We shared time together, in Hydra."

"Hydra?" Steve questions, and sympathy is written on his features.

You nod.

"Yes. Wanda and Pietro joined of their own accord, but....I didn't." Your brows knitted together, setting the plate back on the seat it was previously on, "They put....things, in me ran tests on me, experiments, I was their Guinea Pig. A rat in their maze. Then Pietro and Wanda joined, and we just...bonded. We went through everything together."

"So you feel obligated to help them?" Steve questions, but you shake your head.

"No." You begin, lifting your head to gaze at the trees, "I mean yes and no; we're friends, so of course I do, but it isn't my only reason. Do you know how horrifying it must be for two kids to sit mere feet from a bomb? Children. Children never deserve to experience that kind of horror, and Stark funded the military's selling of weaponry on the black market for so long, whether he knew it or not is a different story."

"Then what's the other reason?" Steve asks, and you're silent for a moment.

"It's....complicated." You tried to reason when faced with the idea of unpacking everything.

"I was alive during the second World War, and I don't look a day over 30," He spoke, trying to lighten the mood a little before looking at you a bit more sincerely, "I promise, no matter how complicated it is, I've got you."

"Well...Truth be told, for the longest time I didn't have memories before being in Hydra," You confessed, turning your gaze back to the trees, "I couldn't remember who I was, where I came from...who I came from, nothing. All I could remember was Hydra, and all the pain they've caused. I still don't know how long I was kept there, you could tell me I was in there for a thousand years and I'd believe you." You offer a soft chuckle, looking back down at your hands.

"I'm sorry," Steve says sincerely, voice stern, brows knitted together, "You didn't deserve that, I'm sure your family will be happy to know you're okay."

"That's the thing, mister Rogers," You paused for a moment, tears stinging your eyes as a sudden wave of emotions flooded you at the memories you'd been trying hard to forget again this whole time.

It's a bit ironic; you'd been wishing for years for even just a small fragment of a memory from your past, anything before your time in HYDRA. Anything, even just something as simple as a playground in summer, a sandwich made from your mom, anything. You would've killed for it. And now? Now you'd do anything forget them. When you wished for your memories back, you didn't think they'd come with so much pain, so much sorrow.

You were thinking you'd get happy memories; ones of getting an ice cream with your mother on a hot day, or a high school graduation, your mom taking you dress shopping for prom, attending a holiday dinner with family...Instead, what you got were memories of why you were taken in the first place; your mother spending most of your childhood trying to keep you in hiding, and the memory of hearing her screams as you were dragged off into a van before a gunshot was heard.

"Wanda--the witch, when her and Pietro had managed to secure my escape, she..." You took in a deep, shaky breath, "She has many powers, and she's not evil, she's not bad, she's so sweet," You nodded, mostly to yourself, as you looked back up at him, "She helped me remember, gave me my memories back with a single touch, and then shared with me the memories she had when trying to dig up information on my past for me."

"That was...awful nice of her, I'm glad you could get them back." Steve said quietly, hanging onto your every word.

"It was, it is," You nodded again, blinking back tears, "Can you imagine how much it hurts, to wait so long to remember your family, wait with the hope that if you ever escape you can see them again, just to find out they're dead?"

Steve was silent, but his gaze flickered down to his lap for a moment, taking in a breath, before looking back up at you, "I'm sorry, really, I wish it were different for you."

"Me too," Your tears fell freely now, "My mother spend my entire childhood trying to hide me from the men of Hydra, worked herself to death to move us so often, to keep me fed and clothed, and you know who my father was? The person who could've stopped it all?"

Steve was silent for a moment, trying to do the math himself, "Who?"

"None other than billionaire, playboy, philanthropist himself, Tony Stark." You finally confessed.

"You mean-"

"Yes. I mean." You took in another breath, "She tried to talk to him in person, and you know what he did? He had his security throw her out. She tried calling, sending letters, even emails, and guess what the genius of our time tells her?"

Silence fills the air as Steve simmers in shock, trying to take in everything, trying to reason his way through things like he always did to come to his own conclusion. He didn't think you were lying, he's too kind-hearted for that, and your tears of pure agony told him you were truthful. What he was trying to do was figure out if Tony really would do all that, or if maybe it was just a series of misunderstandings.

Steve has a habit of trying to see the best in people who aren't actively trying to destroy the world, and Tony was no different, even despite their differences. He knew HYDRA was serious business, and by extension he knew how difficult it must've been for your mother to keep you hidden from them for so long, and how incredibly strong and intelligent she must've been for doing so.

His brows furrow together as he thinks. No matter what the case is, misunderstandings or not, that's a horrible thing for a kid to live through and an equally horrible thing to be told. He couldn't imagine how it must've felt to be a single mother, trying desperately to keep her child safe from those maniacs, just to be thrown out by the same man who helped bring that child into the world in the first place.

"What does he tell her?" Steve asks, and he almost doesn't want to hear the answer.

"He comes to the apartment we were staying in and tells her that she's crazy and needs serious help. He tells her to stop contacting him, hits her with a restraining order, and then he takes one look at me and then look my mother dead in the eyes and tells her that there's no way a kid like me could've come from him. Says 'that thing isn't my problem', and that if she calls contacts him again he'll have her thrown in prison."

Steve is silent.

"My mother died trying to protect me, to save me from the horrors of that place. She never contacted him again. Stark never bothered to take a DNA test either. So my family is dead, and yes, I have my own motivations for wanting to see the his fall."

"That...That wasn't right, I'm sorry, for everything." Steve says, and steals a glance outside before returning his gaze to you, "Look, you're free to leave the jet, okay? Med-Kit is on the dining table, and Tony's out working on a tractor or something right now so you should be able to dodge him for now. I'll make sure the team knows you're good, okay?"

"Thank you." You speak quietly, returning the smile he gives you before leaving the jet himself.

Leaving you questioning many things, but most of all, what will you do now?

#the avengers #tony stark #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #steve rogers #tony stark daughter #tony stark's daughter #pietro x reader #pietro maximov #x reader #imagine #avengers imagine #anti villain #healing powers #superpowered reader #hydra #ultron #age of ultron #avengers age of ultron

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pascaloverx · 3 months

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As It Was (S2)

Chapter Thirteen

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Author's note: Dear readers, I will be writing this fanfic again. This second season will have shorter chapters and it will probably take me a little longer to update the fanfic but I hope you like it!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS STORY, there may be adult content and verbal and physical violence.

The day of my wedding with Bucky arrived faster than I had anticipated. The reality is that James Buchanan Barnes is both the only one not involved in the wedding and the groom. I simply couldn't get that stubborn head to change his mind. Okay, I didn't even try to get him to change his mind. Every new day in your life is another terrifying day in your head, not knowing if Killian or Steve will show up and end you or someone you love. So, this fake wedding is my last chance to end this nightmare. If Barnes doesn't see it that way, too bad for him.

"You look magnificent in that dress, Melisa. I'm sure Barnes would be the luckiest man in the universe if you two were really getting married. But my best friend is as much of an idiot as he is handsome, you know." Sam says, entering the bride's room that was specially prepared for me to get ready. To be poetic, I rented the hall where they killed my father and almost killed me. Here, they have a special wedding banquet hall. And it's a place I already know.

"Thank you, Sam, for the compliment and for being here. I can't believe this day has finally come, and that I may have spent money and time on something that will go wrong." I say breathlessly, thinking about the possibility of setting up an obvious trap and not being able to capture the criminals.

"Actually, that's exactly what I came to talk to you about. Yelena was talking to some of her contacts, and it seems Steve was seen around here yesterday. Dave is checking nearby cameras to confirm. But don't get discouraged just yet. This whole team is here to support you, even though it may seem dangerous. We won't let any of them hurt you." Sam says, hugging me gently. I'm relieved to know they're here with me. Whatever happens, we'll face it together.

"This time I'm prepared too. So, let's put the plan into action. The guests should already be in their places, waiting for the groom to arrive. The music for the bride's entrance will play in a few minutes. I'll walk in with Wanda as if everything is fine, and you guys put on a show pretending that Bucky is missing. I'll create a scene, cancel the wedding, and ask everyone to leave. It'll be the perfect moment for them to attack me. The rest is up to you guys." This plan was designed with every detail in mind. There are more cameras in this building than there were before; Dave is taking care of surveillance, Sam and Yelena are handling defense in case of a surprise attack, and Wanda will be nearby in case I need help if something goes wrong. Everything is carefully planned.

"Then I'll go there in case you need anything; remember, you have an earpiece. Just say 'red' in any way possible, and we'll come to your rescue. Good luck, bride." Sam touches my arm lightly and leaves, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I look at myself in the mirror, analyzing the wedding dress I'm repurposing. It's the same one from my first wedding, just adjusted. I thought this time a veil would be more of a hindrance than a help, and a long train would be an obstacle.I hear a noise behind me, almost like a step, and automatically grab the gun hidden on the vanity where I did my makeup. I point the gun at whoever is behind me not even five seconds after hearing the noise. Of course, I could have died because five seconds is a good amount of time for someone to kill another person. If I hadn't been distracted, I would have noticed someone entering this bridal room and known it was my ex-husband, the idiot.

"Great attack plan, but I suggest aiming the gun at the head next time. It would also be good not to get distracted, but your reflex was quick. By the way, you look beautiful. I like the changes to the dress." James Barnes says, smiling shamelessly at me. I'm torn between anger and surprise. What does he want here?

"Barnes, I don't remember inviting you in or asking you to be here in general. Before you ruin my plan, go away, and take that smug smile with you." I say, trying to sound serious. I lower the gun and turn around, ignoring the fact that Bucky hasn't budged despite my request for him to leave.

"Funny. I don't recall proposing to you or accepting one from you. Yet, everyone in this building came to see you and me getting married. I hope you liked the outfit of your future husband. I'm wearing the suit you gave me on our first anniversary." He looks handsome, but I don't want to give in. I wanted him by my side, and he abandoned me. Now that I made a plan without him, he shows up here. Son of a...

"Barnes, save my time. What do you want?" I don't have much patience on a regular day, let alone when I'm about to be bait to capture not one but two dangerous men.

"I want to marry you. I want to be by your side while you do the stupidest thing ever seen in the world, and most importantly, I want to apologize for being an idiot. I realized too late that loving you means accepting your plans that will undoubtedly cause unimaginable havoc." He speaks, getting closer and closer to me. Then he holds my waist firmly, looks into my eyes, and kisses me. It's a kiss full of passion and at the same time, longing. Truth be told, I missed him, and well... he certainly missed me too.

"I can offer you a second honeymoon filled with reconciliation sex, what do you say?" Barnes says in a playful tone, and I lightly smack his arm.

"Try not to ruin the plan. Figure out a way to leave me alone during the ceremony. They won't show up with you around, and I need to be the bait. Are we clear?" I know he won't like it, but whatever he wants. He's been married to me before; he should know that when I have something in mind, I do it my way. The problem is, he's the same way.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll let you do what you want without getting in your way," he says, giving me another light kiss. I smile, knowing he probably isn't entirely serious.

"Do you promise?" I ask in the middle of the kiss, my forehead resting against his. My god, how I love this man.

"No. Now get ready because I'm going to my groom's spot to wait for my beautiful bride." He gives me a peck on the lips and leaves before I can react. I then prepare to go to the hall to fake getting married.

"Nice pathetic plan, Melisa. Beautiful. You just forgot that I was a partner with all of you while you played the united little group. I smelled a setup since I knew you were going to marry Barnes again. Who in their right mind makes the same mistake more than once?" Steve speaks behind me as I head towards the hall where the guests are waiting. I smile because I did get what I wanted.

"You, you arrogant jerk." I turn around, plunging a sharp and likely lethal knife into his chest. Poor guy, he had no idea this time I would be prepared for him. The loud thud of him hitting the ground was startling. His look of desperation mixed with the anguish of pain, simply cinematic.

"Let me guess, you thought you would come here, and I would be frightened. You'd kidnap me, and I would cry in desperation. Then, it would be a remake of the last time we were together, but this time I wouldn't survive. That way, you and Killian would go unpunished. My question is, did you underestimate me so much that you didn't even bring a weapon to threaten me?" I say, watching him writhing in pain. Poor Steve, caught off guard.

"If you think this is all, you're totally..." He tries to continue speaking, but I yank the knife out of his chest, and he's too busy feeling his blood leave his body to insult me. Oops...

"Dave, I think you can hear me. Ask Sam to come deal with Steve, near the bride's room. I'll continue with the plan." I compose myself, somewhat perplexed by what just happened, but the show must go on.

"Dave can't talk right now, but I'll pass the message to Sam. After all, Melisa... you were waiting for me, weren't you?" I get nervous hearing Killian's voice on the earpiece. Damn.

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loomontoia · 2 years

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The fallen scarlet witch

Print available here :)

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limarieb · 2 months

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i come around (when you least expect me)

Pairing(s): emo!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: After a one-night stand during a party, you find yourself in an odd gray area with your best friend's sister. It just so happens that your best friend's sister is also the person that has been making your life a living hell for the last few years... all without your best friend knowing.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, cursing, mentions of drinking/parties, high school au, Wanda lowkey kinda mean but i SWEAR its lowkey, non-graphic scenes of kissing/making out (no smut... yet...?)

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: sorry for my lack of posting, but i promised it would come soon(ish)! here's that 100 follower special i promised — oh, and thank youuuu all for the follows and support... i love you all <3 (title from 'heartbeat' by childish gambino) ... also, requests/asks are still open!

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

...

Pain. Throbbing, aching pain. The discomfort from your current hangover surrounded every inch of your mind, physically and metaphorically. Well, almost every inch... because memories from last night were finally reaching the surface now that you have awoken, conscious and, unfortunately, sober.

The sweet lips on yours.

The feeling of skin, hot and sweaty, against your own.

The perfect dichotomy of soft hands on your body as they gripped at your skin roughly, almost primal in nature.

And they all belonged to your best friend's twin sister.

You started to get ready for the day — whoever talked you into attending a party the day before the school year began should be arrested and fined for such a disservice.

Thankfully, you planned enough ahead to bring clothes to the twins' house for today. The outfit you had chosen was relatively casual: the worn-down, navy blue sweater that had been your father's during his college years and the comfiest pair of jeans you could find.

Venturing downstairs to the kitchen, you finally felt the extent of how poorly your stomach felt due to the heavy drinking from the previous night. You opted for something easy, pulling the first box of cereal that your fingertips touched out of the cabinet. You never liked cereal too much, but anything went during difficult times like these.

As you poured yourself a bowl of the bland cereal, footsteps sounded throughout the house. They were coming closer and closer to your location. You assumed it had been Pietro.

You were... close — it was her.

When you looked up from the bowl to see who the person was, you were displeased to find the girl standing there, simply observing you with a smirk on her face. It reminded you of the villainous expressions from the television: conniving and mischievous.

"Stop staring at me like that," you sneered, trying to keep your volume low enough that Pietro would not hear you but loud enough that she would sense the harsh seriousness of your tone.

Wanda maintained her gaze, simply tilting her head as if to challenge you, "Like what?"

"Like you know what I taste like."

The faux innocence in her expression slightly faltered. Her eyebrows rose, the shock from your words evident on her face. As Wanda opened her mouth to form another witty remark, the sound of a door opening made the two of you go effectively silent. Wanda looked toward the direction of the sound, awaiting his entrance in a way that demonstrated her indifference toward last night's events. You, on the other hand, completely averted your gaze from both of the twins due to the shame that coursed through your veins.

The rational part of your brain begged for you to tell Pietro about what happened last night; it would resolve the guilt that clawed at you with each passing minute, lifting the weight off of your shoulders entirely. Yet, each time that you began to plan the exact words of your apology, any ideas you had conjured seemed to fall short. It was not as if you could search the internet for a script concerning "how to tell your best friend that you mistakenly (but not so mistakenly that you stopped it) hooked up with his emo, bitchy twin sister at a party."

Your eyes swiftly returned to Wanda, watching her inch closer to where you stood by the counter. She reached her arm behind you, leaning in close enough that your breath mingled with hers. If asked, you would completely and utterly deny that part of your mind was anticipating the vibrant feeling of her lips on yours again; however, the fleeting glance at her lips revealed otherwise.

Wanda noticed. Of course, you would fall into her trap, and she noticed. She smirked in response to your reaction before leaning away and taking a few steps back. A banana was in the hand that had been behind you. Scoffing at yourself, you cannot believe that you let her tease you again.

"See you at school, Y/N," she declared with narrowed eyes, looking you up and down once more before waltzing out of the front door.

You took a deep breath, attempting to recuperate your mind for the day ahead of you. As soon as Wanda had left, Pietro walked into the kitchen, ignorant of what had just occurred.

Standing still as if in a daze, you could only sense Pietro race around the kitchen, grabbing various items he needed for the day ahead. After a few minutes, he slowed to a stop after closing the door to the fridge. He must have sensed your unusual stillness, then he asked, “You okay? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You shakily nodded. “All good,” you forced yourself to stutter out. Not even you believed your words, but it seems as if Pietro was too busy in his own world to truly notice the lack of honesty in your reply. “I’m all good. Now come on, we’re gonna be late.”

The two of you scurried out the door in the hopes that you had not missed the bus. It was a bad habit that you both had been trying to break for years now but remained relatively unsuccessful.

As the two of you approached the classic, yellow school bus that sat on the corner of the street, Pietro raced ahead in order to save you the extra minute of running. He gracefully entered the bus, climbing its stairs with ease; meanwhile, you were audibly out of breath and tried to ignore the glances the bus driver gave to the two of you.

Pietro, like most mornings, found himself sitting with some of his friends from the cross country team, leaving you to fend for yourself. You quickly scanned the bus for an empty row so you could sit by yourself, but you quickly realized that was a luxury you could not afford after such a late arrival. While you could not find an empty row, you were about to find a single empty seat towards the back of the bus.

You shuffled your feet to the empty seat but stopped as soon as you noticed its other inhabitant: Wanda.

Bile suddenly formed in your throat at the thought of having to spend more time with her — more specifically, without her brother, your friend, and coincidentally the only person to keep her dangerous, spontaneous nature in check, present. You approached her, simply attempting to take the bus ride silently and one minute at a time. You swore to yourself internally that you would not respond to her, irrespective of whatever she may say or do.

The bus slowly pulled away from the stop and started its route toward the high school. For the first few minutes, everything seemed to be going unusually fine. Wanda sat silently beside you, wired earphones trailing from her phone to her ears. As her gaze remained fixed toward the window, you wonder if she had even noticed that a person had now occupied the seat next to her, let alone that person being you.

You naively took her initial lack of response as a victory. With a sigh of relief, you allowed your body to relax in the seat and closed your eyes for the remainder of the ride.

Then, you felt something.

The brush of something on your thigh.

You opened your eyes to scope the scene, making sure you had not imagined the sensation; however, it seemed to be just that: nothing. The only thing positioned in your lap was your backpack filled with your books for the upcoming year. You closed your eyes and began to drift away once again. Maybe you were going crazy, you pondered. (Maybe you could blame your irrational behavior last night on such insanity. Would the insanity defense work for things like that, too?)

Then, you felt it again.

Without much hesitation, your eyes shot open once more. Only this time, you were met with the sight of a hand, decorated with several rings and chipped, black nail polish, situated comfortably, almost possessively, on your upper thigh. You peered toward Wanda's face, which was still facing the opposite direction, attempting to gauge her reaction. Yet, you saw nothing; her expression was rather unchanged, leaving you more confused than anything.

Before you could think about what to do about the situation, the bus drove over a mountainous bump on the road. You internally cursed the local government officials for the obstacle, for whether it occur by accident or intention, Wanda's hand flew directly into the apex between your thighs. Eyes widened in shock, your lips drift open as you gasp from the sensation.

It finally gave you the courage, however, to shove her hand away, but not without seeing the signature smirk she acquired in the process. Anger began to boil inside you. You repeated to yourself that it was because the brunette's touches were unexpected — not that she had been victorious. In the end, you just silently thanked yourself that you had chosen jeans, or else that could have ended much differently knowing the Sokovian.

Days turned into weeks, each bringing the routine of snide comments and less-than-playful banter between you and Wanda. You still had not found a way to enlighten Pietro about your issues with his sister (both the endless torment and... that night), given that (1) she was his twin sister and (2) she always seemed to be around. The cynical part of your brain believed that her unusual proximity was purposeful — she probably just wanted to see the fallout.

While the two of you had not gone further than your typical banter again over the past few weeks, though, you still felt incredibly agitated. (You chalked it up to anger because it definitely could not be the possibility of pent-up sexual frustration between the two of you.)

However, one day differed from the rest.

You noticed early in the day that Wanda was being extraordinarily quiet. Part of you was thankful, praying that her silence would continue until the end of the school day.

It was a Thursday in late October. Like most days, you followed Pietro to his home after school, venting to him about how you were excited it was Friday tomorrow because you were simply over all of the midterms being assigned and just wanted time to relax.

(You continued to ignore the underlying guilt that sat in the pit of your stomach from remaining silent about everything that happened with his sister weeks before; you attempted to ignore it even more by rationalizing your silence, stating it was "only one time" and a "mistake that would never even happen again.")

As you entered the house, Pietro immediately drops his bag on the floor and runs up to his room. You rolled your eyes at this typical, teenage-boy messiness, and opted to place your bag on the hooks that Agatha designated for such items.

Feet padding across the wooden floors, you wandered into your happy place of the home: the kitchen. You opened the fridge, looking for a small snack that could satiate your hunger until dinner. Finding nothing of interest, you closed the door. Your body jumps, though, at the figure that had been hiding behind it: Wanda.

The patience you once had had officially worn invisibly thin.

“What the fuck, Wanda? What do you want from me?” you asked exasperatedly, the energy you once had for such shenanigans having become completely depleted after a difficult week of school. "Listen, I don't know what I ever did to you for you to treat me like this, but I'm over it."

“Are you…” She started but quickly cut herself off. Her head tilted, trying to figure out if you really did not know the answer. You noticed the way her mouth opened and shut out of pure bewilderment; while you normally would make a comment about it in an attempt to tease her in return, you figured now was not the time. When Wanda found no evidence of lies in your expression, she continued to speak, “You really don’t remember, do you?”

You threw your head back, a chuckle escaping from the back of your throat, primarily due to the exhaustion caused by this long-awaited conversation. “No, Wanda, I don’t remember! If I had, don’t you think I would have apologized by now! Don’t you think that maybe, just maybe, I would have given you an “I’m sorry” so we could have avoided all of this? So that I would not have to deal with your bullshit for the past decade? So tell me, Wanda, what did I do to deserve this?”

“First day of school. Second grade. Recess," she spat out. Her words were so quiet but uttered with such venom.

Your brows furrowed in confusion at the seemingly random series of words, "What?"

She rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated with your lack of memories. While you could not remember what made her act this way, it had evidently stuck with her for years.

"It was my first day at this school," she began, her expression turning from red, hot anger into a stoic and collected nature. "Pietro and I had just moved to the States after losing our parents a few months before. Agatha was the only family member, albeit a distant family member, who was alive and willing to take us. So, we left everything behind and moved here."

You already knew the majority of this information, mostly after hearing it in brevity from Pietro. He had never truly talked about his time in Sokovia in depth, finding it distressing and uncomfortable to recall. You only discovered this one day when you both were 9, and you had followed him to his house after school for a play date. In a state of innocent curiosity, you asked him why he called (what you had assumed to be his mom) by her first name upon entering the house. He explained the basics, and that was the end of that. You understood and respected his quietness on the subject since then.

"Pietro has always been the better twin — better at school, better at sports, better at making friends. And, I'm just... me. So, he has always been better at the whole 'socializing' thing, even as an immigrant child with little knowledge of the States. Everybody seemed to like him, I guess. I, on the other hand, refused to talk... well, for the most part, at least. Anyway, on the first day of the second grade, my first day of school here, I was sitting on the edge of the concrete, picking at the grass."

She paused her speech, shifting her gaze to meet yours. "Then, this girl approached me. I thought, 'Wow, maybe I will have friends, maybe I will have friends and will finally be like Pietro.'” Wanda shook her head, shutting her eyes as if to remember each minute, each second, of that fateful day. Her accent was unconsciously growing thicker by the minute. “So, I greeted them, introduced myself like our mama had taught, and asked if they would like to play with me. You want to know what she did, Y/N?"

She opened her eyes, locking them with yours in a harsh stare. "'You talk funny,'" she hissed. "That's what the girl had said before running back to her group of friends. Truthfully, it's not even that deep of an insult, but it somehow spread like wildfire how the 'new girl' was abnormal, how she couldn’t even talk normally, how she was dirty with her dirty shoes and probably had fleas from her even dirtier home country, how no one could touch her or else they would be 'infected' by her."

“Why are you telling me this?” you stuttered out. “What does this have to do with you being a complete and utter bitch to me for the past ten years?”

Wanda huffed, “That girl was you, Y/N.”

Every breath you had suddenly left your chest. Your eyes widened, unsure of how to respond, “What?”

“You say I made your life a living hell? Bullshit. You ruined mine. You have everything I have ever wanted: friends, good grades… parents,” she said, her tone becoming soft with insecurity toward the end. “You even got my brother, my fucking twin brother! For fuck's sake! And yet, you still had to ruin my life."

"Wanda, I'm..." you began, but all of the words you have acquired in your seventeen years of life were failing you. "I'm sorry. I- I don't..."

This time, Wanda laughed, but it was not the depressed, low chuckle like before. No, this was something else entirely, a burst of maniacal laughter that indicated an unfound level of absurdity. Your eyebrows furrowed.

"'You don't' what, Y/N?" the brunette taunted.

You decided to be honest with her, "I don't know what to say."

"Of course not. 'Little Miss Perfect' never knows what to say when she finds out she's not so perfect after all."

Your sympathy gradually faded to the original anger you had been feeling. Your eyebrow involuntarily quirked, "Hold on, now... I never claimed to be 'perfect.'"

“Oh, please,” she replied, belittling your attempts to argue her predetermined notion of you. She began to mock you, “My name’s Y/N. I have the best grades in the entire school, all my friends love me, and, at night, my parents tuck me into bed and call me their little princess…”

Slowly but surely, your vision turned red. You stepped closer to Wanda, hoping the proximity would deter her from making additional snide comments about you.

“We all have our shit, Wanda,” you sneered. “You better quit now before I give you a reason to.”

She scoffed, “Oh, really? What are you gonna do? Tell mommy and daddy I…”

Her words were cut short by the placement of your lips on hers.

Truthfully, you were unsure of why you decided that this was the best course of action; perhaps your brain was simply shut off by the rage coursing through your body. Yet, that confusion did not stop you from continuing. In fact, it did not hinder either of you from continuing.

The kiss was forceful, containing all of the emotions you both have felt since that fateful night. Her mouth pushed and pulled roughly against yours; you returned the energy just as much. There were no thoughts, no rationality, behind both of your actions — only pure lust and passion.

Your hands started at her jaw but slowly drifted upwards toward the roots of her brown, messy hair, gripping and tugging at the strands. Parting from your lips for the first time in what must have been minutes, she released a moan from the sensation and continued to drift southwards toward your neck. As her teeth scraped at your pulse point, you were finally brought back to the reality of the situation.

You used the hands that were still threaded within her hair to pull her away from your neck; although, neither of you immediately stepped away from the other. You took the opportunity of your closeness to note how swollen her lips had become, how hot she looked under the dimness of the kitchen lighting.

"What are we doing?" you mumbled into the open air, not exactly expecting a response from the Sokovian in front of you.

She remained quiet, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips. Her tongue darted out briefly, licking over her own lips in (what you assume to be, at least) preparation for more.

So, you seized the opportunity of her quietness to continue, "I'm not... I'm not perfect, okay? My parents... it's complicated. Sure, they're alive and whatnot, but... they don't care. Honestly, half of the shit I do — the grades, even — I do it so that they might finally pay attention. So, like I said, we all have our own shit to deal with."

Her lips parted, eyes stilled and staring into yours.

"And, l am sorry that that comment fucked you up as a kid. If I had known, even as a kid, I would've not said anything like that. I know I can't reverse time but..."

This time, her lips effectively ended your speech; however, the kiss was much softer than earlier, showcasing a newfound appreciation and, perhaps, feelings.

"I know," she acknowledged in a whisper after pulling away. "I'm... I'm sorry, too, by the way. I shouldn't have acted like that — it was cruel. We can talk more about it, about our... issues, later, but um- I just want to start over. Just us."

You nodded in affirmation, a blush flooding your cheeks.

"Just us."

The two of you sealed the agreement with a soft peck.

The sound of a glass shattering on the floor captured the attention of both of you, ending the kiss with the redirection of your heads in order to discover the culprit.

In the doorway of the kitchen, Pietro stood surrounded by broken glass splattered across on the wooden floor.

With widened eyes, you said the first and only thing that came to mind: "Oh, shi—"

End.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #limarieb wanda maximoff #limarieb #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff

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ahhhwomen · 2 months

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Vampire Empire

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: We are going to ignore how long I disappeared, okay thank you.

Also, y/n will not be in a proper relationship with the girls, she will very much be viewed and treated like a pet not a partner, but she will obvi still get the love.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death Minors DNI 18+

Summary: Your Master is a cruel woman, but you would never stand a chance against her, but what if they can? Or: You are a weak and abused pet that has never felt love or comfort, but maybe, now you can.

Taglist

Parts:

Part 1: I don't know why I bite.

Part 2: Mom, I'm tired.

Part 3: Nothing really matters.

Part 4: Frostbite.

Part 5: Eternal Slumber.

Part 6: You can say no?

#wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!natasha romanoff #vampire!wanda maximoff #vampire!natasha romanoff #wandanat x reader #dark!wandanat #natasha romanoff x reader

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darkdemeter · 4 months

Text

HABITS OF MOTHER NATURE’S WILL

The DARK DEMETER WRITING CATALOGUE, WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN #1 —

—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—

Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader, (Platonic) Avengers x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader

A/N — Finished it nice and quickly, I was a bit unsure about this piece and was probably gonna scrap it before I posted the teaser. I was surprised to see how many people liked the teaser alone, and the taglist life chose me! Didn’t think that would happen so soon sooo that’s pretty cool, so if you wanna join that then let me know! I’m looking at potentially doing some more werewolf reader soon, with a piece (or multiple pieces, idk yet) called ‘The Convict Wolf’. Again I’m not the best at fluff so there is quite a bit of angst in there too as well as some humour. I think this turned more into a slight! Wanda x reader than an actual Wanda x reader. So… sorry bout that. Usage of Y/N as well.

WORD COUNT — 3.4k

— NEXT COLUMN

READER DISCRETION — angst (reader has insecurities/self esteem issues) — Tony being a bit of a dick — some minor language — some weird fluffy humour? — mentions of a “passed relative” in said humour — minor name calling and usage (“mutt and stray/pup”) — and I think that’s it?

Mother Nature decrees that her law is absolute. Her will is to be respected, and all are intended to follow in her great design.

You do not change it. You embrace it.

And this applies to you as well, thanks to your common ancestor, that you shared the habit that left you tracking the red ball Tony kept bouncing against the polished floors like it’s the only thing in existence that mattered to you. And maybe because it did.

How could this happen? No high risk missions or deadly villains to stop from achieving world domination. No, today was one of those special days where you and your fellow Avengers could relax. And with the full moon so close, what better combination?

What you wouldn’t give to suddenly be on a quinjet flying into enemy territory. Nothing like a good fight to get the blood pumping.

For everyone’s sake, you tried to keep to yourself for the past week but you’d exhausted your options. Walks in the park weren’t cutting it - not to mention the other dogs started it first - and you’d already destroyed five punching bags in the gym just prior. The treadmill be damned, you weren’t burning any energy on that.

Your last resort was to sit in the common area with your favoured beverage, a cool rag and some TV to calm the intense wave of anxiety. However, by her divine intervention, your beloved crew had come to flock in.

Mother Nature knew you were a pack animal at heart, as both human and wolf. It was how she made you.

The ensuing anxiety of being in a crowded space enough to put you near over the edge. It’s not like your heart rate only picked up a few hundred beats more when Wanda walked in.

When a few of the new arrivals waved and greeted you, you shared a hesitant yet trying smile and equally reluctant nod in return.

The battlefield was the only place you felt comfortable around your new comrades. But without missions or villains you were still getting accustomed to life at the compound; adjusting to life around people.

You were still considered fresh. A new recruit to the team. As Tony liked to call you… a pup.

Fuck, how you’d bite back your snarls from that term.

Fury assigned you to the Avengers some months ago. And though you had no intention of staying long, the missions kept coming in and a lot more required your specific skill set.

You remember as though it was yesterday that Tony said, “Alright Fury, we’ll adopt the stray pup. Just don’t go ripping up the furniture now.”

Suffice to say, you broke your own record at doing just that in under 3 hours.

“I think they’ll settle in just fine,” Fury had chuckled with a clap to the billionaire’s shoulder.

You shake your head at the memory. Still, if felt wrong to feel certain things for one of your teammates already. It wasn’t like you felt you really had a chance with her anyway.

The thought made your eyes falter from the now still ball for a moment, clutched in Tony’s hand as if it were your heart.

‘Who am I kidding?’ You chuffed silently to yourself, ‘She wouldn’t take a chance on me, I’m a damn mutt!’

Your self esteem issues had to wait though.

Thump.

‘Ball.’

Your entire head at this point tracked the ball’s movement, but your mind was still distracted by Wanda. The idea of her wanting to play ball with you, to spend those moments of intimacy with you. Tony’s words zeroed in from a muffled backdrop to the forefront of your mind.

“And that is why red indeed travels at a superior speed to any other. Ergo, why my suit is red, brilliant, eye catching and can beat anyone.”

You could hear the collective groans and disguised snarks beneath coughs without the noise being present. It was in everyone’s eyes and their scents.

Your eyes froze on Wanda, her striking eyes bore into yours with no hesitation. No fear.

‘How long has she been doing that?’

She offered one of her smiles that made your heart swell and stop at the same time, that made your searing skin cool and rise with goosebumps.

‘She’s so beautiful when she smiles like that.’

If she had one of those smiles then… you knew that grin that spread across her lips and showed a thin line of her teeth.

Your eyes gave away the betraying thought that you knew. Her smile turned grin riddled with mischief spoke volumes.

‘She read my damn mind!’

“I don’t think that is actually possible, Tony,” Sharon said with a click of her tongue and a disbelieving squint to her eyes.

“Oh no, it is,” Tony replied with a nod, “I’ll show you how the colour of this ball determines the speed in which it returns to my hand.”

He held up the ball in his hand, a proud display of its immaculate accomplishment, just a throw away.

Shit.

You bite down on your lip hard to suppress the whine coiled deep in your throat. A deep heat settled all along your neck and your ears.

Wanda still stared at you even in your peripheral.

Tony flicked his hand forward and the ball flew forward, bouncing once against the floor and bound into the wall with a determined thump before Tony caught it again, mouth agape to huff in his triumphant display in tandem with a curt yelp.

A good throw. Bad timing.

Everyone’s eyes had diverted to you. Their attention captured by the sound you made. Even Bucky, the stoic and reserved man who hardly acknowledged anyone with anything other than a grunt, appeared surprised if not the slightest bit intrigued by this new discovery.

You didn’t dare risk a second glimpse at Wanda, the flush in your neck seeped higher up into your face. Not that the shock and interest on everyone else’s faces were easier to process.

But you couldn’t face Wanda’s eyes now.

She had read the racing thoughts you couldn’t keep in line. Who knows how much she read about how alluring you think her scent is, how you whine and whimper whenever you hear her softly cry when in the privacy of her room because you wish to be there with her, her hand running through your fur to comfort herself; to let her know you’re there for her. How much it hurts you that she would never see you as nothing more than the mutt of the team. A beast that maims and runs rampart whenever you lose yourself to anger.

A lovesick pup.

You feared that the hot sting of tears was sure to follow any moment now.

Your fingers tightened against your legs, nails not longer the tamed length you maintained them as. In their stead were claws.

“Something wrong, pup?” Tony teased and you didn’t refrain from the rasped snarl that rose in your chest. Your teeth - and fangs - bared.

Fuck. Why did Mother Nature have to make you the way you are?

“Tony,” Sam warned, eyes cast between the two of you.

“What?” Tony only shrugged as if he wasn’t intentionally pissing you off and embarrassing you at the same time. “I just wanna make sure our new recruit here is alright, I mean, they have been temperamental over the past week. Chewing on expensive furniture and specially crafted improvements to my suit—“

The ball flew from Tony’s hand just as he was about to make a show of the ball again, the unmistakable red, misty tendrils swiftly brought it to Wanda’s hand.

Everyone was silent as they glanced between the red ball in Wanda’s hand and you. Their combining scents overwhelmed you to a new height. The fear that pinned you in place made the skin along your arms radiate with heat, either from the desire to run with your tail between your legs or to get defensive; to ‘wolf out’ as the others had called it. It didn’t help when Thor made an attempt to say something but otherwise thought better not to say what was on his mind.

Wanda eyed the object that held your attention. And you in turn couldn’t help but study her. Something in the way her eyes twinkled with curiosity, her lips pulled to one side as if to contemplate heavily on the fact that this ball held you in a vice grip.

Your short temper as of late, how you’d skulk around, much to the dismay of everyone fearing you had turned into another Bucky. The guy wasn’t that bad, you’d give him credit for that, the guy had a lot on his plate.

But what Wanda was perhaps most interested by that whenever she was present in the same room as you, all that would vanish. At least for the most part.

But to her, you would ask her how she was doing or even compliment her. Little did she possibly know that it was because you had felt a little courageous to take that small leap of faith to tell her she looked good.

But she might as well have that knowledge now.

You weren’t sure if it bothered you or not that she read your mind. Invaded your thoughts. In some weird way, you wanted her to. But you also feared her rejection.

But in the end, it all made sense. No one else pieced it together but her. And this time, she didn’t have to read your mind to do it.

She could read you. She knew you.

“It’s the full moon tomorrow night. They’re anxious.”

You were often lucky to avoid this topic with the others. They’d just chalked it up to catching you at the wrong time, that the mission was a hard one that day and you had some pent up anger to burn. The other half, you’d be out of the compound. Taking a much needed break at your apartment, visiting your sick grandma who they suspiciously noted you saying had passed away years ago three times now. But who was counting.

Never did they realise it all happened around the same time every month.

But Wanda did. She noticed it.

You brave to stare into those eyes you were content to drown in but find something else. It’s mysterious. Not what you’d expect to see in her eyes when she looked at you of all people.

“Y/N, Fetch!” Wanda cooed as she tossed the ball away from her. It’s a primal instinct that ignited within you at that very moment. A natural, engrained sense and desire.

How Mother Nature intended for you to react to survive or to have fun, your skin tingled with the sensation all too familiar.

The shift is over within the blink of an eye, seamless as you launch yourself over Wanda’s sitting body after the ball, large paw-like hands scrapped across the floors as you skid to a halt and the ball captured within the grasp of your maw.

Your tail wags involuntarily and your ears pinned against your head as you bashfully ducked your head at the sound of the others who chuckled and praised your reflexes.

It felt nice. Wanda turned in her spot on the couch to peer over at where you’d jumped over her, chin tucked into her folded arms.

“Nice catch,” she giggled and you swore she could see your blush in this form, “bring it here.”

Hesitant, you take a step forward and then another, your eyes cautious as they wandered over the others in case they deemed your advancements were dangerous to be left unchecked.

Rarely did you allow this form to take around them without the proper surveillance equipment and safety precautions. They already had Bruce to worry about losing control as the Hulk. They couldn’t risk you as well.

But no. They marvelled in their stares, smiles of contentment encouraged you to approach Wanda. You let the ball fall into her grasp with a small whine, ears still pressed back.

“Don’t be shy, Wolfie,” she whispered, the sound soft for only your ears to hear. You liked that nickname. You could only hope she would continue to use it.

Wanda raised the ball again only for Tony to interject. “No! No, you are not playing fetch in this compound, Miss Maximoff.”

Wanda smirked at the look in your eyes. The same one you had right before you tore up all the good, expensive furniture within that 3 hour window.

A few more throws turned into furniture shoved aside to make room. Tony remained in the kitchen, arms folded and a scowl etched hard into his face, it would take a miracle for Pepper to wipe it from his face.

Everyone else was too engrossed in the game of indoor fetch, all having had a couple of turns by now with throwing the ball. Bucky humoured you once and threw it, an approving nod when you caught it. Clint, Thor, Peter and Scott fought hard to get the ball numerous times, Natasha and Wanda were promoted to ‘ball-directors’ so everyone had a fair go.

But Wanda maybe got an extra throw in once or twice - by order of Natasha.

Steve now held the eye catching sphere in his hand, high above his head. Though with your stature in this form, it was rather tricky to keep it away from your snapping jaws.

You yipped and howled in anticipation before Steve tossed the ball and you leapt after it. You caught it before it could bounce off the wall. An eruption of claps and cheers followed immediately, your ears flopped back as you whine softly with that feeling that buzzed in your ribcage.

“Bring it here, Wolfie.” Your ears perked up high and alert at the soft tune of Wanda’s accented voice. A few of the others couldn’t refrain from laughing a little at the sight.

Whenever they had permitted you to shift on mission skirmishes, it was all done through protocol and extensive preparation to ensure you were stable.

And they only saw one emotion when you changed. Aggression.

To finally get the chance to play and be comfortable in your own fur felt good. Shit, well beyond good.

“I was promised the next throw! Come on, give the ball here, Y/N,” Sam called with an outstretched hand.

Even if Sam had a point, you couldn’t stop yourself in your approach towards Wanda, who now was crouched down with her hand out to receive the ball.

Her eyes were soft in their gaze as they pierced through the veil of your own. It was like she could see the humanity deep within you.

Her magic touched you differently, prickled against the shell of your mind, you welcomed her in.

‘I see you as more than you realise.’

A whimper crept up your throat in response, ears tucked back and eyes often shrouded with the thirst for carnage grew to relax. Become tender in the embrace of her eyes - her soul - touching yours.

Your fur bristled suddenly and you shook your head with a huff. You dropped the ball into her hand and she threw it down the long hallway.

You bound after it, your claws clinked against the tile floor, your breath hot in ragged pants as you gave chase. Each bounce of the ball echoed faintly in the back of your mind, too occupied by the words Wanda spoke through your mind.

It was the first time you’d heard her voice in your head. And you enjoyed it. It settled you into a sense of calm.

You didn’t register the elevator doors open ahead of you, Nick Fury stood with files tucked under his arm.

Your eyes shot open and you swore you saw his unpatched eye mimic yours. Your weight was too much to control with the momentum you had backed up behind your pursuit in a cramped hallway. You skid to a halt but slipped forward, the force of your body knocked Fury and yourself back into the elevator.

A series of cringed groans and gasps reminded you of your teammates as the elevator doors closed behind you.

You’d knocked Fury into the buttons and now, your destination was another floor.

Sheepishly, he could tell, you whine a pathetic sound in your apologies. You shuffle in the elevator that was almost too tight for the two of you to fit with you like this.

“So,” Fury said after a few moments of silence, eye intently watchful of the floors you both now visited. Some had agents give pause and a receptionist even dropped her cup of steaming coffee at the sight of you.

“What brought the wolf out?”

He turned his head slightly when you grunted, ball held up in your mouth to show him what had ensued before his arrival.

It felt like hours that the rest of the team stood in their places, eyes stuck on the elevator door you and Fury both disappeared into.

“Do you think he’ll be mad?” Wanda asked, voice coated in a toxic amount of unease.

She was scared what would happen to you. As a matter of fact; everyone was scared.

The government knew just enough and that was a hard - yet private - case that was not disclosed with the public.

Your existence and your species as a whole had to remain top secret. One slip up that was determined out of hand would grant you a one way ticket to who knows what for punishment.

“It’s okay, Wanda,” Clint assured, “I doubt Fury would do anything like that. I mean, he brought them to us.”

“He’s right. No way would Fury do something like that,” Steve added, firm in his judgement or perhaps what he hoped for.

“We will… figure it out if it comes to that,” Tony sighed from his place. Not often did Tony jump to your defence in cases such as this.

But in the end, you’d proven yourself mostly to be trustworthy.

He had some inkling of reason to believe you wouldn’t cause intentional harm to the team.

The elevator pinged and everyone held their breath as the doors slid open.

Fury and you stood side by side, gazes directed down the hallway towards your team. Your eyes immediately sought out Wanda who gave you a smile but her brows were furrowed.

Fury held up the ball as he strutted forward, like an obedient pup, you followed close to his heel.

“Next time, take the game of fetch outside,” he advised and threw the ball forward and Tony caught it swiftly.

Another good throw. Really bad timing.

You were still hyped up and because of that, you charged forward and closed the distance within a matter of milliseconds.

“Wait no—!” Tony grunted as he was pinned to the floor beneath your weight. “Get. Off!” He growled and you slinked away from him with your tail tucked.

The others did little to hide their laughs at Tony’s unfortunate expense.

“Good job,” you caught Bucky mutter to you as you joined Wanda’s side. You chuffed rather proudly and your head held high.

Steve aided Tony from the floor. “Alright, Fury. We’ll note that down.” Steve flashed a toothy smile and wink your way.

“I have a mission briefing. Ya’ll better buckle up and dress for the cold. You’re going on an undercover operation located in Alaska.”

“Alaska?” Wanda asked in sync with your curious head tilt, ears flopped to the side.

“Alaska. And you also have a guide present right now who is familiar with the territory.”

It didn’t take a second long for your team and yourself to gather what Fury meant, his single eye on you knowingly.

Fury left some time later after he handed the files over that provided more information on your new task in Alaska.

Wanda turned and knelt down in front of you, a hand ran through the thicket of your fur. The act itself made your eyes droop and your chest rumble. Wanda couldn’t keep the full, toothy smile to spread on her lips.

“I think this gives us all the perfect opportunity to play more fetch with our beloved wolf.” Wanda’s words didn’t go unnoticed by the numerous hums of agreement. Truly you felt seen by them all. For the first time perhaps ever, you felt accepted.

You even looked to Tony who shrugged with an eye roll. “I suppose I could indulge in a couple throws myself. So long as I can test my new theory of what travels faster: the wolf or the red ball?”

“Wolfie,” your team chimed in claim of their theory right there.

Your pack that Mother Nature intended for you.

Thank you for Reading!

(◕ ᴥ x)

TREEHOUSE TAGLIST —

@alexawynters

#dark demeter writing catalogue column #treehouse taglist #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #wanda x werewolf! reader #wanda x y/n #werewolf reader #gn reader #female reader #male reader #y/n #marvel #mcu #platonic avengers x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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fandomnerd9602 · 2 months

Text

Scarlet Threads

a Scarlet Webs story

Wanda Maximoff x Spider-Man!Reader

Wanda was really starting to enjoy it. This new world that she found herself in. She enjoyed spending time with you and how you seemed to lighten up her whole outlook.

You helped her find a place at the Avengers Tower. The team was a little confused but they came to love Wanda just as much as you.

For the first time in a long time, Wanda felt at home again. You helped to decorate her floor at the tower to look like a home from an old sitcom. Your skills were mostly in web design but Wanda laughed at your attempts at home decor.

You took Wanda on little excursions around the city. You told her they were friendly hangouts but deep down Wanda wished they were more. She wanted to have a life with her ‘Spider Monkey’ as she called you in the comfort of her home.

You knocked on her door one night. “Hey Red,” you smiled at her. “I was umm…I was hoping that you’d join me for a slice of pizza down at Stan’s”

Wanda couldn’t help but giggle at your nervousness. “Like a date?” She asked, playfully batting her eyes.

“Y-yes” you managed to answer her, blushing a storm in the process.

Wanda found herself about to say yes. She could already see the life she wanted with you in reach. A home. Two boys to call her own. And then came the sudden emptiness.

“I-I can’t” she whispered, a tear making its way down her cheek. You gently wiped it away.

“Why not? I like you. You like me.” You tried to ask her but she gently pushed you away.

“You wouldn’t like me if you knew my past”

“What do you mean?”

“I-I killed people” she fell to her knees, “I was a monster…I tried to die to stop it and that’s how I ended up here”

“I’ve been a killer too” you admitted, wrapping your arms around the witch before you, “there were some villains that were just…I couldn’t rescue them.”

“But you’re…” Wanda tried to form the words but they wouldn’t come.

“We all have regrets” you sigh, “we all have scars. But I love you, scars and all”

Wanda gazes into your soul and laughs, “I love you, scars and all too”

She wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you into a kiss. The warmth. The love. All of it made Wanda feel at home.

Wanda hadn’t felt this kind of love since losing Vision. Maybe this was her fresh start. Her home.

“Wanna go for a swing?” You ask her with a little smirk. She couldn’t help but nod.

You picked her up bridal style and swing off into the night. One successful trip to Stan’s Pizzeria later and Wanda knew it was true: she was one hundred percent in love with her Spider Monkey.

Tags @tokufighter @ma1egamer @jacelion @deafeningsharkslimeempath @sapphic-s1mp @moonpheus @rroyale-109 @milkeeteaa @konstantin609 @lifespectator @aloneodi

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine #wanda maximoff x male reader #spider man #spider man reader #multiverse of madness #wanda maximoff imagine

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alexawynters · 3 months

Text

Scarlet Whispers pt 10

Gif not mine, as always

Trigger Warnings: Some gore and violence.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Masterlist with parts 1-9 here

Chapter Ten

A/N: I Googled the recipe for authentic Hungarian Chicken Paprikash in order to see how difficult it might actually be to make, and as someone who can’t cook but three things, I have to say it looks hella complicated. I’m giving Reader far more credit than I would ever give myself with regards to kitchen skills.. That said it sounds delicious and now I want it :’( Someone pls feed me. Also I felt super bad that I went so long without posting when I had this just… sitting in my Google Docs, so uh… have another chapter. I only have 12 written so far though so I guess I better get to steppin’. sweats nervously

The pair of you had elected on a movie marathon today, watching the Hobbit series together on the couch when Wanda felt it. That telltale tingle in the back of her mind, signaling that her wards had been tripped. This wasn’t the alarm for a breach, but rather letting her know that someone was at the perimeter attempting to get in. Pearly teeth grit in rage - how dare someone ruin her perfectly good afternoon with you? Everything was coming together, and now someone had the audacity to try and intrude, possibly to try and take you away from her? Wanda couldn’t have that.

Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, the redhead informed you she needed to check on one of her projects and it might be a while. Your pout was quickly kissed away, Wanda directing you to play the new video game she had gotten you last month. Unintentionally, you had been putting it off - between spending time with Wanda and trying to play all the other video games you had, there hadn’t been much time for it. Excitedly, you agreed, getting the disc ready before putting it in the console, as Wanda stepped away. Sure it would be better with the woman by your side, but you could be patient while she worked on her projects.

Or at least, you would try to be. Healthy relationships and all, you had to be able to spend time apart, and you certainly spent enough time together even if secretly your selfish heart thought not enough.

Out of your view and satisfied you were preoccupied for the foreseeable future, the witch conjured her battle regalia, and stepped through a portal to the ground's perimeter. From the moment she stepped through, the cause of the alarm became readily apparent - Stephen Strange stood just beyond the barrier looking smarmy as ever.

Wanda was getting really sick of that stupid goatee.

“Stephen,” Wanda said, calmly, “How did you find me?” She asked, but she didn’t truly care, the how didn’t really matter.

”America didn’t sell you out, if that’s what you’re asking. The trail of death and destruction you’d left pointed me in the right direction. It took a while but eventually I found where you've been hiding, as you had to know I would.”

The witch hummed noncommittally. “I’m just trying to get my family back, Stephen. You of all people should understand that. I’ve seen what you have done to try and reunite with Christine. Can you blame me for wanting to be happy? Why do you get to choose the reality we all must live in, but when I try to make a life for myself, I’m labeled a villain?”

Strange knew there was some truth to her words, but he was never one to back down. “The family you had wasn’t real, Wanda. They never wer-”

“They were real to me!” The witch seethed, cutting him off.

“In almost every other universe, we are together and happy. If I have to go through you to make that happen, I will. To you they aren’t real, but to me they are my family, and I would burn every universe for them.” Red eyes blazed in rage, and Stephen had no doubt the Scarlet Witch meant her words.

Nevertheless, the sorcerer had no patience for empathizing with his former colleague. There was an innocent person in her grasp and it was his duty to save them. “You have to let her go, Wanda. You can’t hold her against her will like this.”

A sinister chuckle. “Against her will? Does she look like she’s being held against her will?”

With a flick of her stained fingers, and a hazy one-way portal appeared off to the side of them, showing where you were currently engrossed in playing your new video game: Baldur’s Gate 3. From there the scene changed to the recent dates you both had been going on, and how happy you were spending time together, focusing on just how enamored you looked gazing up at Wanda. Another twitch of ink-tinged digits, and the images were gone.

The sorcerer had to admit you didn’t look unhappy, but that didn’t mean all was as it seemed. He knew there was no way she had come clean to you about everything she had done to get you here. If she had, surely you would have run for the hills by now, or at least attempted to. Things wouldn’t be so rosy for you if he left you in her care, Stephen was certain.

“Be that as it may, this Y/N doesn’t belong with you. You decimated entire universes in your search for her, leaving countless innocents dead in your wake. Does she know that? Does she know that you murdered her parents in this universe?” He asked, knowing full well the answer.

His words stung, Wanda knowing that some part of him was right in this instance. No, she hadn’t told you, and initially she had never intended to. As she had gotten closer to you though, Wanda realized she wanted you to know. Not to hurt you, but to solidify that she would always keep you safe from any harm, no matter who it was. She loved you, truly, and wanted you to know everything about her. However, she couldn’t risk that until she was sure your heart wouldn’t turn away from her with the knowledge she revealed.

“They were abusing her, Stephen! In your infinite wisdom, did you know that? Do you know the life she led before me? I’m not her captor, Strange, I saved her! Here she is happy, and I provide her with everything she could ever want or need. Taking that away from her for the sake of your pitiful morality and duty, that would be the real crime. Y/N deserves to be loved, to be happy, and so do I. Don’t take that from us.”

Strange knew he couldn’t win on logic alone. This would undoubtedly end in another showdown, but he was hoping he could reason with the witch. “It’s not just about rescuing her from your clutches, Wanda. You have caused real harm to the multiverse. Untold suffering, trillions annihilated for your selfish obsession. You have to be stopped, Wanda. What’s to prevent you from killing Y/N when she doesn’t fall in line like you want? What will you do then, toss her body aside like so many other innocent people, tearing through countless more universes to find another copy? When will it stop?”

“I would never hurt her!” the redhead snaps, her magic flaring out in warning. She was blatantly ignoring the fact that not long ago she was chasing you through a forest in the fear and anger that you were leaving her. Even then though, she had never planned to hurt you, certainly not kill you. Only to teach you a lesson. Wanda deeply resented that Stephen thought she would ever purposely hurt you. Not to any lasting degree at any rate. She loved you. You were her everything, the key to her happiness.

The witch took a steadying breath, calming herself. She had to think of you first, and she didn’t want to risk a battle so close to her home with you in it. “I have no intention of leaving this universe ever again, Stephen. I can’t say that I am sorry for what I did - it has brought me here with Y/N. But we are happy here, and unless someone comes along to threaten my family, I otherwise have no need to ever harm anyone ever again.”

She paused to look Strange in the eyes, trying to convey her sincerity. “Please Stephen, just go. Leave us in peace. This doesn’t have to be a fight. I’m so… tired… of fighting, Strange, but I want to be clear: I will never give up what is mine. I will neutralize any threat to her, or her happiness, and that includes you.”

The sorcerer couldn’t deny that Wanda looked every bit as exhausted as she suggested at this moment. Unfortunately, he still couldn’t allow the greatest threat to the multiverse that’s ever existed to continue free. Stephen believed that Wanda believed she wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, but that didn’t mean that he trusted her temper. Having already proven volatile at best, and if he left her alone with you, there was nothing stopping Wanda from going on the rampage he expected her to, should you step one toe out of line.

With a deep sigh, he looked at the ground, pondering his options, wishing there was another way. “I’m sorry, Wanda. I can’t take that risk. Not with someone as powerful as you. I’ll ask you one last time, let Y/N go, and surrender. This doesn’t have to end in blood.”

The witch tilted her head, studying him. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong, Stephen.”

Purposefully she strode through the barrier to her home, no longer protected by it, able to engage if necessary. “I won’t let you take her from me. I won’t allow anyone to take her from me, ever again. I have grown so much stronger since we last fought. If you insist on your foolish crusade, this will end with your blood.

By now Wanda was mere feet in front of the sorcerer, refusing to back down. “Like you said, Strange. Last chance.” She tilted her head again, and a chill ran down Stephen’s spine at her determined, if slightly unhinged visage.

Strange sighed, moving to take a defensive stance, when suddenly the witch’s arm was protruding from his chest. He let out a surprised grunt. He hadn’t even seen her move, but he could feel the agony radiating throughout his body, proof enough that she had.

With a disgusting squelch, Wanda withdrew her hand, his heart clutched firmly within, still beating. Horror darkened the man’s face as he stared in shock. He hadn’t even seen her move, much less been able to react. How had she gotten so fast? Pain and shock prevented him from even speaking.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way, Stephen, but I told you. If you continued to come for me, it would be the Scarlet Witch you would be dealing with.” With an almost regretful look at his flabbergasted expression, Wanda crushed his heart in her hand before dropping it. What was left of the ruined organ thudded onto the ground at almost the same time his body did.

Wanda turned and began walking back towards the cottage, not looking back as she waved her hand. Red phosphenes surrounded Stephen Strange’s body as it disintegrated into ash. She neglected to take a portal this time, electing instead to take the long way to the house in the hopes the night air would steady her. It didn’t.

Eventually setting foot in your shared home, Wanda cast a glance towards the living room and was relieved to see you were clearly still enthralled with your new game. So engrossed were you, that you failed to notice Wanda, hand and arm covered in blood, as she headed towards the bathroom for a shower. Though she could have cleaned herself instantly with magic, she knew she was in no state of mind to return to you just yet. Despite how unaffected Wanda had made an effort to appear to Strange, her sins were weighing heavily on her heart. Killing someone she had once fought beside was not something she relished. Another death she was going to have to explain to you one day. Since the walk hadn’t done anything to ease her troubled heart and mind, the witch set about taking a shower. It stood to reason you would hear it and not question her continued delay, buying her time to not only clean up but hopefully also clear her head.

Her shower was longer than usual, with less time spent cleaning than simply existing. Rivulets of water ran down her face as the redhead stood beneath the showerhead, staring sight unseeing at the shower wall. A necessary evil, she told herself. That didn’t make the weight of his death any less burdensome. What was she supposed to have done? Even if she had let him go, eventually he would have come back, the insufferable pest that he was. Likely then with numbers that even the Scarlet Witch might struggle with. She couldn’t have risked that. Risked you. Never again.

Why couldn’t he have just left her well enough alone? Wanda had meant what she said: she had no intention of universe hopping anymore. All she had ever wanted was her family. Now that she had you, she could begin rebuilding that, and you were making such good progress for her. Why would she want to start over with another variant of you, when you were just… so perfect for her? She still missed your Avenger variant, but every day that hole in her heart hurt just a little less. Besides, something about you specifically had a hold on her heart in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

Maybe in the beginning Wanda might.. have gone searching for another if you had not panned out as she expected. Terrible as that was to admit. Instead, from the moment she laid eyes on you before even entering into this universe, she was gripped by you. It was Fate, she was sure of it. And now? She couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Of ever even trying to find another. Out of the vast multiverse, there was only this version of you. She wanted you as you were, and she refused to let you go or allow any harm to come to you. Even if it meant protecting you from herself.

A shuddering breath was exhaled, and Wanda began slowly rinsing the blood off of her face and out of her hair. She may have left you with a video game to keep yourself entertained, but Wanda knew from experience if she wasn’t there, it wouldn’t be too long before you would come looking. Wanda had become your rock, your favorite person. You could be playing your favorite game of all time, but if Wanda was not present, you wouldn’t have nearly as much fun. It was sort of cute how you would look for her at every opportunity, unable to stand being without her for too long. She felt similarly, and hoped you knew that now.

Finally clean, and deeming herself capable of functioning again, the witch changed into her most comfortable pajamas before mindlessly making her way back to the living room where you were. Absorbed in your game as you were, you only vaguely registered Wanda’s presence returning. You scooted slightly on the couch to make room for her, without ever taking your eyes away from the screen.

“Hey, Wands!” you said, enthusiastically. “How is your project coming along?”

The former hero was not ready to speak just yet, so she simply hummed instead, and leaned against you. She took comfort in your familiar warmth, even if your arms weren’t around her just now, your presence was enough to be soothing.

The lack of a proper response caught your attention. You almost didn’t turn to look at her, being in the midst of a pivotal battle, but you were glad you did. Hazel eyes puffy and tinted pink from crying met yours. Alarmed, you immediately stopped playing, controller forgotten in your lap, the game not even paused. Turning to the older woman, you placed one hand on her arm, the other to her cheek which she leaned in to.

“Wanda? What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

Oh her precious detka, thought the witch. Always such a big heart, eager to provide comfort and aid. Perhaps if she were to tell you, maybe you would understand. Maybe you would forgive her. As she took in your concerned gaze though, she knew she wasn’t ready to risk it. Not right now. Instead, she shook her head to your question, unwilling to answer it.

“Can we not talk about it right now?” Her Sokovian accent was slightly more pronounced.

Though you were dying of curiosity as to what could bring someone so mighty to tears, you didn’t press. It’s not as if there would be something someone as powerless as you could do anything about whatever it was anyway. All you could do was ask and offer comfort. Wanda would tell you when she was ready. Until then, this was your opportunity to return some of the love and support she had provided you with, and you positively ached to bring that to her. Wordlessly, you pulled her into your arms, leaning back on the couch until she was laying atop your body. Murmuring gentle words of reassurance, you held her close, occasionally running your fingers through her auburn locks.

After a while, you grabbed the remote nearby and turned the tv from your video game to the DVD player. The Dick Van Dyke show began playing softly in the background, and Wanda’s chest bloomed with love for you at your thoughtfulness. She nuzzled further into your embrace, staying that way for the better part of the rest of the day as you both dozed intermittently.

Hours later Wanda slipped into a proper sleep, and once evening had rolled around, you took it upon yourself to cook dinner. Though you hadn’t wanted to part from the witch, she clearly needed the rest, and you wanted to surprise her by making dinner for her. Carefully you rolled her away from your chest and onto the couch instead, placing one of the pillows beneath her head. The only indication she registered any change was the slight, adorable scrunching of her nose. Why was this woman so damn cute?!

The kitchen had never been your chosen domain. Before Wanda, you were more likely to burn a pot of water than actually cook something successfully. Now you were hoping some of her lessons had rubbed off on you as you rummaged through the pantry and fridge trying to locate ingredients. With any luck you would be able to throw together and create something vaguely resembling an edible meal.

It was a pleasant surprise for you to discover that you currently had all the ingredients available to make Chicken Paprikash - Wanda’s favorite meal from her home in Sokovia. Going through her recipe note cards, it didn’t take you long to find it, and soon you were throwing seasonings in a pot along with some onions, tomatoes, peppers, and the chicken. While that was cooking, you prepared the noodles. A little under an hour later, and everything was coming together. You just hoped it wasn’t trash.

The aromatic and savory fragrance must have awoken the redhead because she sleepily padded her way into the kitchen to find her sweet surprise. You couldn’t see her yet, your back to her as you stirred the food while it simmered. Though unable to carry a tune to save your life, you were humming quietly to yourself with your earbuds firmly in place as you focused on making the delicious meal. Precious.

“Are you cooking, detka?” Wanda asked just loud enough to be heard over your music, and you jumped, startled. Blushing you turned to face the witch and grinned sheepishly.

“Uhh.. if you could call it that?” you chuckled, pulling out an earbud. “I just thought since you’re always taking such good care of me, maybe I could return the favor?” Voice lilting upwards almost in a question, hoping you hadn’t overstepped.

Moving to stand next to you and see what you had made, Wanda’s eyes widened as she took in the familiar dish. “Is this chicken paprikash?”

“Haha, yeah uhh.. my attempt at it at least?” You absentmindedly rubbed the back of your neck - a nervous tick you’re pretty sure you didn’t have as a child until you started watching anime to learn the nuances of facial expressions better. It wasn’t until well into adulthood you learned most people don’t actually do that. Embarrassed, you fought not to slap your own arm, and instead simply lower it like a normal person.

“I hope I didn’t butcher it too badly. I tried to follow the recipe you had on the card since we had all the ingredients, but I can’t speak to the integrity of the dish as I haven’t tasted it yet. Besides, you're the true connoisseur here, so even if it seems okay to me, your superior palate might be able to tell the difference.” The joke rolls easily off your tongue, followed by a quick wink.

To you this was no big deal, you were just trying to be kind. But to Wanda? This was the sweetest thing anybody had ever done for her, and it reminded her almost of when she taught your Avenger variant how to make the dish. The other you had never tried to make it for her in return however, opting simply to learn about the meal while Wanda cooked. Now, looking at the beautiful dinner you had created for her, simply because it was her favorite and might cheer her up, Wanda felt her heart about to burst with affection for you.

Unable to hold back, deft fingers gripped your neck softly, quickly pulling you in for a searing kiss. Pouring all her love, affection, and appreciation into the kiss. You were surprised, but not unhappy with this turn of events. It hadn’t been your goal, per se, a kiss from the woman you were coming to love. However, if she wasn’t melancholic anymore, then you considered your goal accomplished. Your arms came to wrap around her neck, though you were careful to keep the spoon from making contact with her clothing or hair, you had heard her take a shower earlier and didn’t want to ruin that for her.

The kiss simmered into something soft and sweet. Meanwhile your food, unfortunately, was starting to bubble over. Hearing it, the pair of you sprung apart, with you frantically pulling the pot off the eye of the stove, stirring it to return to the intended consistency. Embarrassed and amused, you both burst into giggles at the almost mishap.

“Thank you, Y/N. This is incredibly sweet of you, I-” The redhead pauses, unable to eloquently convey everything she felt in that moment. “Just, thank you.”

The wattage of your smile could have been seen from space; you were so happy. “Of course, Wands! Any time.”

While you turned off the stove, Wanda set the table so you could begin plating your dinner. Jokes and laughter flowed easily between you as you both enjoyed your meal. Wanda, who never doubted your cooking skills, though you are pleasantly surprised, enjoyed that the paprikash is not only edible but rather delicious.

As you and Wanda settled into the domesticity of it all, the witch found her heart becoming light once again. So incredibly kind and thoughtful, you brought her joy, and filled her with hope. She resolved then and there to tell you everything one day. Deserving of that much at the very least, Wanda prayed, hoping, with all her being, that you would forgive her when the truth was finally revealed. For now though she sank into the warmth and comfort you provided, falling for you just a little more with each grin you flashed her way.

A/N 2: I’m not proud of what I had Wanda do in this, but I still have some left-over rage for how Stephen treated Wanda. All she needed was a little empathy, especially from the man who made the call to allow the events with Thanos and the Mind stone to play out as they did, basically letting Vision die. For no good reason. No you can’t convince me he was right. Its lazy plot writing that out of thousands and thousands of possibilities, none of them could have involved sparing Vision, or at least making his death mean something. I’m a Wanda apologist first and foremost, and I will die on this hill. Wanda deserved better, especially from those she called “friends”. Also, I stan women’s wrongs 😛

Taglist: I remembered this time!! @dorabledewdroop

#Wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #dark wanda x reader #yandere!Wanda #yandere wanda maximoff #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader

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me-uglypretty · 1 year

Text

the heart doesn’t rest

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x F!Reader

Summary: Fleeing to Norway was the dream that was only made better when lovers were together. Plus, the advantages of living in isolation provided unlimited freedom.

Warning: (18+) fluff, smut, bottom!r, somnophilia, voyeurism, cunninglingus, exhibitionism, fingering, power dynamics, filth | 5k words

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Life is an atrocious comedy. It bounded those living on earth into a monotone life, abiding to the rules and regulation spat upon their feeble body with the absolute necessity to survive. The comparison between one individual is vast, some gifted freedom while some barred in silver shackles. A life like that, stipulated different meaning on existing, and for you, the relentless taunt that came while living as you; a hero, a villain, a fugitive, whatever that smeared your name to their recent beliefs.

Their names were equally cursed among the same anticipating their rescue for when tragedy strikes. Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, the intelligent spy and the powerful witch. But the most, your girlfriends, your lovers, the ones you wish to marry—when life wouldn’t exist like a plague for anyone of you.

However, living off-grid had proven no victory to either you or them.

“I hate this,” was said loudly, as your body habitually leaned into her sturdy body. “It’s not fair. We could’ve— we should had been together, right now and always. Not rotting in different ends of the world,” you exclaimed, pressing your body further into hers with hopes of pacifying your throbbing heart.

Natasha’s hand spread on the space of your back, rubbing soothing circles to offer some sort of comfort to your fretting. The customary gloom appeared throughout the days apart from your lover, but Natasha stayed strong for you, and for Wanda.

“Malyshka, this is for our safety. Didn’t you like Norway?” she inquired, tilting your head to meet her eyes. Those verdant eyes, gleams flawlessly beneath amber light, and she stares into yours with utmost love and trust. “You wanted to come here when everything is over.”

It was true. Norway was a dream manifested into reality. You had murmured to them one night—when nude bodies laid on bed, limps tangled and at ease, where slick and sweat coats your skin and theirs, and the scent of arousal lingers for hours after—that you wished to live in the coldest parts of Norway.

Wanda had laughed. Teasing remarks fell from her mouth. You had troubles handling your body’s temperature, despite being born a witch. Utilising too much of your power would embark your body in waves of heat or unbearably coldness. The latter was more common.

Natasha queried for reasons why you had chosen that specific location. It stirred some kind of seriousness in the air as you confessed;

“I want to live in isolation. Maybe, we can have a farm, so we won’t need to depend on other’s produce…and we won’t be under their radars. I just want— I need the freedom to hold both of your hands, and kiss your mouth…without them watching,” you revealed, voice soft and laced with a hint of insecurity from confessing something so precious to your heart, of your dreams with them.

They didn’t discard your dreams or teased your vulnerable confession.

Instead, Wanda had enclosed her hand over yours which laid comfortably above your stomach, and Natasha followed the same course. Both grasping your hands warmly. The jovial look on their face, same hearts that that endured the worst and still flourished with such love. One day, they had promised, kissing you wholly and holding you close.

Then, Natasha brought you here. A safehouse in Norway. Just you and her. Finally—it spoke in such a bitter tone. The atmosphere which breathes of tranquility and away from chaos of large building, doesn’t alter your absolute dejection. Isolation was great, you once thought, before realising the special state of isolation was meant for three together, and not when apart.

“I do, you know I do,” you spoke softly, and pressed your head on her chest. The beating of her heart, reminded you of life, and that was enough till life changes for the better.

Natasha doesn’t force the non-verbal confession from leaving your sad mouth or force your gloom state into one that shone brighter than the sun. It aches her heart to know how you felt, while knowing that Wanda was suffering the same in another part of Europe.

After the horrific escape of a witch, as they so fearfully claimed, Wanda was transported immediately on the opposite direction of her lovers. Vision had accompanied her for further protection. It was ensured that different locations will promise the safety of everyone.

Edinburgh wasn’t anything like Norway, neither provided the safety of three lovers together.

It wasn’t fair, you had argued, shoving and spitting in the face of those imposing such ruthless verdict on lives that weren’t theirs. Natasha had stayed on their side. It was the best decision, she persuasively told you with her hand cupping your damped cheeks.

Betrayal dripped at your tongue for what your lovers failed to brawl over. Till you comprehended that it was more risking for everyone to stay together than it was to split their locations far apart from the other.

But the heart doesn’t rest. It yearns for lovers to unite, and not be left incomplete, just aching for the other to return home.

“I miss Wanda too,” Natasha confessed woefully. She felt the tug of your hand over hers, drawing her attention to your bleary eyes.

“What if,” you paused, conjuring the violet glow in your palm, and it effortlessly flushed through her hand in your grasp. “I bring her here and—”

“You can’t,” Natasha interrupted your whirling ideas, and witness the gleam of violet in your eyes intensifies, before fading to reveal the usual tint of your eyes. But it’s sadder, the most gloom she had ever seen you. “It’s not possible. It can hurt her, hurt you, and I can’t have that, ever,” she spoke with finality, not furthering your attempts as you dejectedly accepted her words.

Maybe, if life wasn’t a cruel fest for those yearning to proclaim lives that aren’t theirs—you would happily live together with them, you would wake in the morning in the comfort of their embrace, you would love them till the end, and love would bloom so beautifully together.

December would have been prospering in colourful decorations, music involving the wintry holiday, and January would had carried forward with that. When wishes would be made for gifts and more, you wouldn’t wish for anything else, as they were enough for your pulsing heart.

“Is Wanda okay?” you questioned, “Vision’s staying out of her way?”

Natasha’s soft chuckles lifts the solemn mood. “Vision is minding his own business. Don’t worry, he wouldn’t dare mess with our witch.”

You huffed, hot breath fanning the extend of her neck. “He better, or I’ll cut him into pieces.”

While the threat was uttered in sheer jealousy with a hint of playfulness, it wasn’t far from the wicked truth. Natasha noticed the sparks of violet in your eyes, it resurfaced at unwarranted moments which exposed your intentions to her and the honesty of your words. Handling two witches became her expertise at this stage.

“Okay, hot stuff,” Natasha teased, her thumb and forefinger grasps your chin, tilting your head upwards, and pressing a haste kiss on your pouting lips. “No more talking. Time to watch James Bond, it’s my favourite.”

You simply nodded, following after with a question, “Will you repeat every dialogue?”

Natasha doesn’t answer. Instead, she resumed the movie playing on her laptop. When a character spoke, her soft voice followed them. It flutters your heart, fueling warmth to witness her so unrestricted.

And there, where your body bask in her warmth, where your heart aches with hers, where love doesn’t fade but flourishes.

Natasha offers you comfort in ways you loved; her warm embrace, her wordless kisses on your skin, her jokes that made you laugh, her tender effort of ensuring you ate by feeding you, and her body close to yours.

It doesn’t offend her that you had refused her physical advances. But she vowed to ensure everything went accordingly to your preferences.

If you wanted silence, she offered it. If you preferred dotting down each reason for your hatred, she listened. If you claimed the holidays as a marketing scheme, she agreed while retaining herself from laughing at the childlike expression on your face. If you pulled her outside the old trailer with the declaration of making a wish, she undoubtedly followed your words.

One phrase that left mouths longing for their lover; I wish…Wanda was back home.

The vacant space between two, remained there, taunting hearts with agony.

But love—the one that pulses in your heart and hers, it stimulates the hope for soon. That a wish may come true as fairy tales proclaimed. That love shared between three would soon reunite, and what forces dare divide them, would cease to exist.

In the depth of an isolated forest, miles away from open road or any sort of human contact, an old trailer was parked and hidden from peering eyes. Almost appearing deserted by its tattered state, and dull colour. The residence in this part of town, minded their business which faultlessly kept the identities of hidden fugitives safe, and the promise of sheer remoteness.

What noises that may resonates in an old trailer or around, wouldn’t draw attention. It’s a space of utter isolation.

Thus, the sudden noise of an aircraft or the sounds of bodies clashing after weeks apart, made no difference to your deep slumber state and the non-existing folks around.

That morning was different, though, you felt the peace that engulf your mind in your deep slumber. Sleep hasn’t come easy since you had moved here with Natasha. The habit of sleeping between your lovers had made your body uneasy without them together, and the sentiments were mutual.

At that hour, your serene sleep had failed to comprehend anything pass reality. You felt the touch, something cold, something hot, something that tickles your skin with waves of familiarity. It does nothing, but draw an almost inaudible groan from your mouth as you resumed sleeping.

“Malyshka,” a syrupy voice whispered, slipping into your mind as though, a pleasant dream. Crimson hue sparks on your skin at her tender touch. It produces red wisps through the side of your head, each stroke reaching to the depth of your mind.

You found her there. Wanda. The softest emerald eyes glowing beneath the sun’s gleam, her eyebrows furrowed as she laughs at something and your heart flutters, but still incomplete. Till, you felt pairs of hands on your shoulder and turn to meet those eyes, an ocean shifting from the nature’s green to the deep blue. Natasha smiles at you, wrapping her arms around your body while Wanda embrace you from behind.

However, your dreaming state and deep slumber, doesn’t wake you for the reality that blessed your form. That she was there, they were truly there, together, admiring your body sprawled on the bed.

Wanda was sat crossed legs by your side, as though, admiring an exclusive relic, while opposite her was a mischief looking Natasha. “Go on,” the latter persuaded. “She’s really sleepy,” Natasha added, before grasping the warm hand of her lover. She guides famished hand to where your legs were spread apart, and the heat the emits as their hands neared your core.

“Oh,” Wanda’s mouth fell gape, her pupils dilated in sheer lust and tease of crimson that gleams in her eyes. Her hand greedily cups your heat, speckles of red flutters around. “You’re such a good girl,” she purred, finger drawing a line through your clothed slit and you whimpered in response.

Natasha marvelled at the sight. It made the experience more thrilling as her hand trails to your clothed breast. She kneads your supple breast, and the lack of bra made obvious of your erected nipple.

“Please,” you mumbled in your sleep. The twitches on your face made them laugh. Your hands enclosed around nothing, while your legs trembles at Wanda’s teasing touch.

Then, a loud smack echoes in the small room. Wanda’s hand met your core with a rough slap, inciting amused chuckles from Natasha. The quirks of your lips, almost pleading for them, and the lust that continues to flourish in your slumber.

And in your mind, still deep in oblivion, you seek refuge of them in your fantasy.

It made them happy to know love that thrives, despite far apart or when unconsciousness engulfs warm bodies.

Those nights which haunt your attempt of sleep, ceased to exist at that hour as florid dreams resonates.

You felt something more, a teasing touch of her lips on your skin, the hand of a witch and the touch of a spy. Wanda’s hand grasping yours, and Natasha holding your jaw firmly as she presses an eager kiss on your mouth.

The stickiness made known between your lower region, urge for your legs to rub together for some friction to appease your throbbing core. Your hand awkwardly travels a path down, and you watch them gawk at you, in your brilliant dream.

Unbeknownst to your slumber state, what you dreamed at that hour, mirrored your action in reality. Your hand had slipped into your pajama pants. Wanda’s hand long strayed from that space, opting to watch you instead. Natasha doesn’t touch you either, both craving to witness the erotic scene. Your fingers messily fondled with your clit. The muddled friction caused immense pleasure in your sleep.

Natasha clicks her tongue and shakes her head at your pathetic state. “Like you haven’t been masturbating in the shower since we came here,” she scolded, and forcefully attempts to remove your hand, but the gleam of red hindered her action.

“Let her,” Wanda uttered, lust filled eyes were enchanted by your sleepy moans, and the dire efforts for bringing yourself to climax.

They remained seated on each side of your body, Natasha to your left, and Wanda to your right. Temptation is heavy, a taunting voice urging for mouths to meet, for hands to touch, for slick to coat skins and mouth. It’s so burdensome that when two pairs of eyes glance away from watching you masturbate in your slumber state, a spy and a witch exchanged a wordless understanding that curls their lips.

Wanda doesn’t break their penetrating gaze as she grasps Natasha’s hand and tugs the sturdy hand of her lover to her face. Instantly, her mouth enclosed around two dominant fingers. Velvety tongue laps around Natasha’s fingers, coating her digits with saliva. It drew a moan from a witch, where the magic that streams through her blood, pulsates around three in pure ecstasy.

With the quick wave of her hands—clothes that cladded warm bodies, vanished into thin air.

The cold weather of Norway made them tremble, your mouth quipped with a groan. But warmth would soon embrace nude bodies, they promised.

Natasha made a noise of appreciation and amusement. Her nude lovers were before her round eyes, scorching in lust for days to come, for the nights that would not grant them sleep as bodies finally meet.

“Hmm, you’re so incompetent, aren’t you?” Natasha mocked, prodding her fingers further into Wanda’s mouth as her left hand found yours, still foolishly stimulating your clit. She was determined to aid you, knowing you were hopeless without their touch.

Her hand pressed over yours, each finger lining over the other as she controlled them over your cunt. Still in sleep and relishing your sensual dream, your hips bucked in response to her guidance. It felt real in your blurry mind.

A sole finger was thrust into your tight hole, each stroke produced slowly. You whined in your sleep, still craving for something that wouldn’t leave you at the brink of orgasm, but enough to reach climax.

The mere sight of her lovers so beautiful, so helpless, so feeble under her control. Natasha offers her gratitude to whoever allowed paths to crossed. For her to meet you and together, meet Wanda. Forever, drips from her sinful tongue so sweetly and honestly—to love, to protect, to pleasure.

Natasha doesn’t fitter away from admiring your glistering cunt, entirely clear for her ravenous eyes. She was unable to avert her gaze as her hand moves over yours.

As always, Natasha declared while scrutinising your efforts.

Your hands were useless at pleasuring yourself, if not for her guidance and some unexpected moments, under Wanda’s guidance. Her hand itched to grasps your supple breast, to pinch your nipples and taste you wholly in her mouth, to hear the helpless pleads fell from your mouth.

A blabbering mess—similar to Wanda, who gags at the sudden thrust of Natasha’s hand. But she doesn’t stop, her tongue continues to suck and nibble on her lover’s digits till she was pleased. Natasha tucks her bottom lips between her teeth, lust filled eyes glued on Wanda’s breast that bounces at the subtle movement to wake pleasure between her thighs.

It's pitiful, she conveyed to the witch’s mind and heard Wanda’s breath hitch. Her gaze travel downward, Wanda’s unshaven cunt doesn’t hide the wetness that gleams under faux light or the way her core was perceptible while crossed legs, exposing her arousal for her lover’s eyes. Natasha’s mouth waters at the sight.

“Good girl,” Natasha’s fingers curls in Wanda’s mouth, before pulling them out with a pop. A line of drool glides the corner of Wanda’s mouth.

Her darken eyes, an endless abyss of dusky viridescent—admires her lovers. Two witches, so powerful and so hopeless under her control. She clenched around nothing and slowly spread her legs apart, enough for her saliva coated fingers to slip between.

Wanda’s eyes widened as her round eyes unashamedly watch the fingers she sucked, disappeared in an auburn bush, the shade few notch darker than lover’s head of hair. She shifted slightly, inspecting the way Natasha thrust her own fingers into her hole, and thumb rubbing her clit chaotically. Wanda averted her gaze grudgingly when she heard your mouth released a loud moan, then stared at the double penetration of Natasha’s hand over yours. The spy’s skilled fingers curls on both ends, for you, and for her own pleasure.

It wakes a deprivation inside her body and a pleading desire which Natasha answered, “Show me.”

Show me how wet you are—repeats in her mind as her trembling hand fell over her cunt with a smack, then again. Wanda immerses herself in the sting which made her cunt throb for more. Whispers of praises aids her into slipping her two fingers between her folds, the tips of her fingers teasing her tight hole. Her eyes shut closed with the murmurs of a dream which you presumed was just that.

Moans bounced off the old walls while sloshing sounds propelled them into thrusting deeper into their cunt, the feeling almost foreign to them, and altogether with you. While wrist ached for what seemed like hours of glorious pleasure, you haven’t dare hindered your action or wake from your induced sleep.

“Are you close?” Natasha moaned, her fingers rubbing intensely on her clit. “Fuck, come for me,” she ushered, eyes trained on Wanda as she increased her pace.

Wanda felt the tight knot formed, seconds way from utmost orgasm. She gazed into the soften eyes of her lover, those sweet praises seeps into her mind as she slowly comes undone. Her motion slacks, body hunched at the tingling sensation that erupts, and a hazy smile took place on her face. Sweat trickles down her skin from the heat of bodies finally achieving their rightful indulgence.

Natasha, on the other end, hasn’t reach her wanting climax. She removes her fingers with a whimper, extending her hand to where Wanda’s mouth readily accepts those fingers drenched in arousal. Wanda moves her mouth, forward and back, downing the entirety of her lover’s juice.

Without a warning, Natasha pulled her fingers out of Wanda’s mouth and slammed them back into her tight hole. The warmth mix with wetness bridge her pleasure as her walls enclosed around her fingers. Her continuous thrust becomes sloppy. The uncontrollably moans falling from your mouth draw their attention to you.

Your stomach felt heavy, like you were seconds away from exploding in sheer ecstasy. It doesn’t dither your teasing touch, as your dream slowly fades and your eyes flutters open.

“Malyshka?” Wanda whispered in awed.

It seemed alluring—as your hand moved faster, even quicker than Natasha’s aided stimulation. You observed her skin glistering with sweat, pupils dilated with clear present of lust then you noticed Natasha’s hand over yours, and her facial expression matched with your other lover.

Natasha removes her fingers out of her clamping hole, and takes a deep breath at the empty feeling inside her. “This was—” and she halted the words that left her mouth, in response of seeing your puzzled expression. “Oh, poor baby,” she purred, slowly leaning lower to meet your face and pressing a haste kiss on your lips.

Her slick coated fingers jammed into your mouth seconds after, as you sucked on her, eyes shutting close at the taste that sweep your tastebuds. Wanda follows her lover’s advance and laid by your side with her head perched on her palm.

You felt their breast pressed on your skin, the bumps at every thrust, skin layered with sweat, and the smell—your moaned at that. It felt like a dream come true, the best way to wake, the best way to stay with them.

“You’re taking me so good,” Natasha praised, then meeting the equally enthralled eyes of Wanda. “I think she can take more,” she said, or more so, command.

Wanda doesn’t refuse her lover’s indication as her fingers teased her cunt, collecting her wetness in turn of pressing them to your mouth. Their digits were ramped into your mouth, curling and smiling as you gagged.

Reality seeps into your mind from their touch, from the praises that neared your edge as you come undone. Your mouth doesn’t stop its ministration on their fingers till they pulled their fingers out, and allowed you the chance to breathe and speak in blurred words.

“How,” you gasped, chest heaving as your breast budges at that notion. Natasha cups one breast with her hand, and palm your erected nipples before pinching them between her wet fingers.

Natasha’s fixation on your breasts, the manner she massages your breast then wrapping her mouth around your nipple, which action drew a hefty moan from your mouth—doesn’t offer your needed answer. Only pleasure made your mind blank from what you had sought from them.

“I missed you,” Wanda professed, and firmly kisses your moist lips. “I had to see you. Natasha said you’ve been sad. Is that true?”

You vaguely nodded your head. The mist of your dreams, your reality, and your sheer bliss state, doesn’t offer more.

“Awe, our baby’s so senseless,” Natasha mocked, her mouth leaves a line of saliva as she moves to your neglected breast. Your breath hitched at that, hand immediately falling on her head and urging her to suck on your nipple.

Wanda giggles with a look of content for finally having her lovers together, and misery would cease to exist. Her head softly rest on your collarbone, allowing the best view of Natasha relishing the feel of your breast in her mouth, and her own hand trails down your abdomen.

It doesn’t—it wouldn’t stop, and you happily bestowed your body to their starved touch to compensate for days apart.

And for once, after a long while, your heart found peace. When yearning was met with the smiles on their face, and concealed with every kiss. When home is found again.

A snowstorm had accumulated few feet of snow outside. Warnings were transmitted beforehand, though, it wasn’t something feared among heroes known to fighting the most mysterious presences. Besides, heroes and villains alike were cleverly trained in such situations. Natasha’s years training provided a sense of relief for possible causes after, while Wanda’s crimson gleam with the combination of your violet glow, was powerful enough.

In other words, you were equipped with the best team.

The horrendous weather nor the target on your head and theirs, could interfere the reunions of lovers. Holidays promised together were cramped in an old trailer. Several gifts were scattered around with a playful game amid its discovery. It was orchestrated for each individual’s inner child, and for hearts to feel better than what was expected outside this little heaven.

A Christmas hat was adorned on your head for the sake of holiday spirit in the middle of January. The horribly tuned radio played familiar melodies, some known, and some unfamiliar.

It was chilly inside, with the few blows of warmth from the heater. The weather wasn’t blamed, when clothes had failed to reach your body or theirs. Since Wanda’s arrival, nudity was the proposed option. Neither wishing for any material to create a barrier what they deemed as a beautiful sight, and you happily agreed, just steaming with the thought of seeing them walking around in their bare skin.

The graze of nude skin while walking close in compact trailer, ignited a fire within, or when a wet patch was left on the faux leather seat that gawked at her. And Natasha expertly lifted you over the counter, spreading your thighs apart as she devoured you.

“Baby, you’re so wet,” Natasha would mumble into your heated core. “Always,” offered as a whisper, where Wanda gawked at your defenceless state.

In a day, you had spent several times in the same position that your brain failed to remember the count. Complains never fell from your mouth, even when Natasha guided Wanda to thrust her tongue into your sensitive cunt. The continuous ministration left your body buzzing, tired, and craving them in every way.

Everything felt perfect.

Better than living among others, and only snatching few hours or if you’re lucky, few minutes of time together. But this life, it granted freedom that wasn’t timed.

Time with them made you giddy throughout the day and night. If not your beaming smile, your throat would burn from pleading and your mouth wide open as they teased your body; insensitively twisting your nipples, prodding your tight holes but never allowing the pleasure of filling you, the faint licks over your heated core that made your hips buck into their face—to only have them draw back.

Greedy, that’s what they’d say.

As if you haven’t allowed them the authorization to do as they pleased to your body. But you played according to their demand for your own pleasure.

Even when you find yourself in the most compromised position.

The morning had woken differently. Sun gleaming through the window, rays of golden shone on Wanda’s face that roused her—and where she met the sight of Natasha’s fingers lazily circling her clit, and your head resting on her thigh. You had settled on admiring the way Wanda’s body reacted to your lover’s teasing touch.

“Let’s play in the snow,” Wanda had proposed, with a glint her eyes that could either mean the worse or the best. “Malyshka, don’t you wanna play in the snow?” she diverted her attention solely to you, and you tentatively answered with a nod.

After that—you found yourself alone, and completely nude, abiding to the rule made. Except for your boots cladded feet. Nevertheless, your figure was hidden by prominent trees around, and absolute isolation. Disapproval that fell from your mouth on attempting something potential risky was persuaded by cold hand palming your heat, and the warning after.

“You’re not a naughty, are you?” Natasha spoke lowly, easily leaving your cunt drenched. “Santa doesn’t like naughty girls,” she whirred, half expecting for your rebuttal.

“But Christmas is over…” you uttered, and winced when your nipples was pinched. “Fuck,” you cursed, noticing the thread of red circling your breasts.

Wanda pressed her nude front against your back, and the feel of her perky breast had rendered you speechless. You could feel the heat emitting from her lower region as her hips bucks froward—till the interruption was made to carry forward with their plan.

It started with a playful game of snowball which led to hide and seek. You counted the numbers till fifty before searching for your lovers. It was the little act of innocence that overlooks the horrendous memories. And the clear indication that their thoughts were laced with things much explicit.

However, you were left alone with the thoughts of them. You had easily recognised it as Wanda’s new tricks of depicting them in the most compromising position. Those visuals pulses in your mind, while you tried—

It wasn’t wrong, you had justified. They roused the thrilling sensation that flushed your skin. It was them who drove such compelling images into your mind. They were to blame for the slick coating your thighs, and the shivers of your legs when wind blew.

They, fell from your mouth as incomplete excuses when patience narrowed and your hand provoked to satisfy the throbbing ache. Your helpless moans were muffled with your hand. You could hear the wetness from your cunt, as the image of them coax your perverted intentions. The fear of being caught, barely crossed your mind.

That, you failed to perceive the sound of broken twigs or the gasped upon seeing your shameless act of masturbating in your lonesome.

Natasha’s hold on Wanda’s hand tightens. They perceived the scene as expected. Assumptions were made between them, one for you to find them and discover their surprise while the other on your inability to stray away from your sinful thoughts.

Together, your lovers had crafted the best surprise for missed holidays. A little game embarked between three, and where hiding would further lead you to those surprises. Natasha had doubted you would do so, not after Wanda’s idea of planting such images into your mind.

Thus, Natasha doesn’t sympathise when she aggressively shoved you back against the tree’s trunk. The coarse texture scratches your bare skin and you cringed at the feeling, before realising the consequences of your action would hurt far more.

“This isn’t hide and seek,” Natasha’s voice edge with irritation, while Wanda stood behind with enthusiasm. “We had a very special surprise for you, but…” she trailed, and a devilish smirk graced her face.

It evoked something between fear and lust for your mistreatment—and you were drenched at the idea.

Natasha pushed your hand away from tiresome ministration, and spread your legs apart. “You’re so naughty, aren’t you?” she pestered. “Since you want everyone to see you like this, then let’s put on a show.”

The sight was shameless if viewed from an outsider—your body trembling from the cold and aching for her, despite her kneeling position, she was still in full control.

Natasha pressed her tongue flat against your puffy cunt that throbbed in response. She doesn’t wait for your familiarity to ease as her finger slide pass your folds and into your entrance. Wanda unreservedly watches her lover fucked you mercilessly, and she found her own pleasure amplified.

You breathed heavily, any attempt of gaining control or holding her shoulder was hindered by wisps of red. Whimpers fell from your mouth and they made a sound too, the hum of approval and pride.

It was great, they’d mutually agreed. To have you in their own way, without limitation or fearing the worse of life.

Though, the punishments were better.

“Please…” you begged, speech left hanging helplessly as a loud smack on your thigh made you shut your mouth.

“Natty says no,” Wanda beamed, waving her hand as red wisps twirls around your breast and you felt the instant stimulation.

Natasha continued her ministration with her fingers and her mouth, the taste of your juice filled her with utmost joy and pleasure. Your body limped against the tree’s trunk, indifferent of the course texture that would leave your skin with a rash.

And you accepted that—the utter control they had over your body, the heat woken in your stomach for them, the pulses of undying need by their name.

Besides, the next hour would prove the best of all little memories expand into one.

You would find yourself bring carried in Natasha’s sturdy arms, your hand would shamelessly trace the clear-cut muscles on her body. Wanda would cling herself on Natasha, her hand accidentally touching your sensitive parts and—

You would find their surprise. The gifts of missed days and gifs for coming days. Decorations that would brighten the timeworn attire of an old trailer. They would watch you happily engulf in a world of three, and love would bloom so beautifully.

What may occur in the coming days or months were feeble thoughts, that couldn’t ruin the embrace of lovers.

#winter things #wandanat x reader #wandanat x you #wandanat x reader imagine #wandanat x reader smut

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fluffyfantasticducky · 1 year

Text

Admit it

☆ Pairing: Loki x Reader

☆ Synopsis: Loki likes you, more than he's liked anyone before, you make him laugh, you intrigue him and he's very comfortable around you, but proud as he is, he won't admit it. So when it turns out you already knew, will he be up to it and confirm it?

☆ Word Count: 4,902

☆ Notes: Loki is in denial about his feelings, as he does.

☆ Warnings: Alcohol consumption. Angry drinking, drunken confessions.

Loki was a lot of things, a liar, a trickster, a warrior, a sorcerer, a jester, a prince, a god, a hero, once even a villain. His current title, an Avenger... Ironic, really. How just a few years he had tried to kill every single one of them, and now he was part of the team. Although, he could argue that he’s the reason they finally got together in the first place, so it was only fair that now redeemed, he’d be allowed to join the famous team that once (thankfully) stopped his attempt at invading Earth.

Because this way he got to meet you.

You, oh Norns, you. Where could he start? You had been born different, to put it simply, as in you were part of the human population with special traits. Back then, Loki’s most remarkable human was a man with strength and anger issues formidable enough to scar him emotionally. Nowadays, there were sorcerers that could compete with Asgard’s finest, artificially made sentient and intelligent beings, and people with remarkable abilities that came from birth. Like yourself.

You were what Midgard had been addressing as a mutant, which essentially meant that you were born with special abilities. Some had super speed, some had laser eyes, other had super strength or like in your case, could make your way into people’s mind to take peeks into their thoughts. Funny you did not end up in that super school for mutants.

No, you had made your way into the rank of trainees for Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. And... somewhere else, but that was subject for another time. You were in a weird in between point right in the middle, you weren’t just a mortal in a suit, but your abilities didn’t stand out as much as for instance the reality warping witch. Not that you minded, quite the contrary, actually.

You were quite a peculiar individual, on one hand you were a very shy and closed off person with most people, you mostly spent your times in the Avengers Facilities you hardly went outside and when you did it was very task focused, meaning if you went shopping you went to get the things you needed and came back, if you were going to meet someone that’s all you did, it was rare you went to stroll around the city or went to big events just because. When brought up, you argued it was simply because crowds meant lots of thoughts and it gave you headaches.

On the other hand, inside the Compound you were bright and bubbly, always friendly and looking seeing you alone was rare, either spar training with Barton, Romanoff or Rogers, assisting Stark and Banner, cooking with Wanda and her tin-man fiancé maybe playing videogames with the young Spider boy and the other Maximoff twin, hearing Thor’s stories, even volunteering to babysit Barton’s youngest child and Stark’s daughter. And... even Loki got his quality time, mostly reading in the library or during training when your schedules aligned. But... for some reason, you seemed to look for his company a lot.

It startled him at first, you approached him once, with a friendly aura he had never seen before, you smiled happily at him asking him to go with you downtown for a coffee. He was going to decline but when he opened his mouth, what came out was...

“Of course. Let me grab a coat...”

You seemed just as surprised as he felt, but your expression quickly shifted into a happy and comforting smile.

“Alright, should I wait for you here?”

He felt his lip curling up into a smirk. Without breaking eye contact, he flicked his wrist and under the sizzling green light he was so familiar with, his black long coat and glasses were conjured on him, as his appearance swapped, his hair turned shorter and brown as beard grew on his face. Your eyes widened big like plates as a soft blush appeared on your cheeks.

“Ready when you are, dove” he smiled, offering you his arm for you to grab.

Your flushed face, staring at him, scanning him.

“A gentleman and a magician, color me impressed” you smiled.

“Oh, no you little mortal, I’m much more than your cheap street wizards” he replied.

“I can see that” you admitted, “but I think I like your hair black.”

He didn’t admit it, but that had been a lot of fun. The conversation had been lighthearted and while at first you had struggled to find common ground, given you both came from very different backgrounds. But once it turned out you had a shared interest in theater and books, you had a nice place to start a conversation.

Then it went on for a while, talking about life and missions, and whatever came to mind. Loki couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so much, but you seemed to know exactly which buttons to press and how. By the time you had arrived at the coffee shop he had a slight stomachache.

The coffee on its own was so insignificant that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember what he ordered that time, but he could recall that conversation no matter how much time it passed.

He had been completely immersed in the conversation, that he hadn’t noticed when the sun set. And the walk under moonlight was even more pleasant, the temperature went down, making you shiver and hide under his arm and coat for extra warmth. It was... scaringly pleasant.

“Doesn’t it bother you that we look like a couple?”

“Given my reputation on earth, rumors of a partner is the least of my concerns,” he shrugged, “just enjoy the warmth.”

“How are you so cozy if you’re a frost giant anyway?” you teased him.

“I’m a magician, remember?” he grinned, “I have many tricks up my sleeve.”

“Yeah,” you said, deviously, “me.”

He never expected the fingernails scratching his upper arm.

“Hehey!”

“Ticklish much?”

“Don’t be foolish” he spat out defensively.

“Loki... I felt the panic ringing like an earthquake alarm” you giggled tapping your temple.

“You’re delusional”

“And you’re ticklish, deadly based on how badly you’re trying to deny it.”

“Very funny.”

“Thanks.”

That was a first, usually, when Loki got a jab to his pride, the other person got a jab to the stomach with his daggers. Loki wasn’t one to take teasing lightly, but it felt inoffensive, like sure, it was meant to get on his nerves, but he couldn’t help but smile at you.

That’s the first time he had a nice time being teased and not just teasing, the warmth on his cheeks felt somewhat comforting. No one had ever felt so easy-going, not fearing his god or royal status or using him as a steppingstone to get to Thor or his parents, not even trying to make him angry, just plain fun.

The rest of the night was just as lovely, it was like none of you wanted it to end, so you prepared tea and chatted in the living room until late hours, when Wilson came to scold you both for not letting him sleep enough and risking his energy for his morning jog and not going to hear the end of it and blah blah blah.

From then on it was getting to know each other.

Thor got to tease him because now it was Loki filling your day with Asgardian stories. But you’d defend him saying you enjoyed listening to both talk about Asgard. Somehow, you always made the brothers get along. Thor talked about his parties and friends, while Loki narrated the most exquisite pieces of Asgardian literature, recited poetry, and made you laugh until you cried with every prank he ever played on Asgard. Both could talk for hours about their battle anecdotes, night could fall, and they would still be arguing about how events went down while you listened somehow not getting tired of the brothers’ antics.

Training was another place you got to know each other better.

“You sure you want to fight me, little mortal?” he teased you, “Is not quite a wise decision.”

“I’ll take that risk” you replied with a wink that made Loki feel more things that he’d ever admit.

You circled around the training mat for a few minutes, and that’s when Loki got his first to see your powers in action. You weren’t particularly strong or fast. But your mind reading gave you a heads up of every attack, so Loki had a hard time landing a blow. You, on the other hand, got to hit him a couple of times, not that it caused him any harm... well, other than his ego.

Later on, Loki learned why he had trouble fighting you, Roger and Romanoff had designed your fighting style to be evasive and adaptable, focusing on compensating your lack of physical strength with good reflexes and responses. Although rather than making him angry, it made him admire you, and want to learn to fight you.

That made you soon be sent in teams for missions together. Loki’s illusion and deception mastery to infiltrate you both, and your powers to extract intel without even needing to engage in direct conversation.

“Alright darling, I’m on my way to the servers, did you get the code?” Loki asked through the communicator.

“Not yet, I have yet to find O’Donnell, he was supposed to be in tech develop but the room empty, they said he went for a coffee break” you whispered back.

“Yeah, what kind of idiot just stops everyone if they’re not caffeinated enough?”

“Ah, that’s low, that’s hurtful.”

“Thank you.”

“Wait!” you whispered, indicating Loki you had found him, “Professor O’Donnell!”

Loki slowed his pace to pay extra attention to what he heard over the com, you should be alright given Loki’s illusions were unbeatable, he made you look exactly like the general in command on the central. Your word was meant to be unquestioned, Loki himself chose to appear as another lab attendant, mainly to not stand out. But he still held his breath as you interacted with anyone, as low as it was, risk to getting caught was not zero.

“Yes, General?” the investigator asked.

“Are the reports ready?”

“Ah, yes, they are almost done General!” the other voice said. “They should be done later on tomorrow!”

That was a problem, you needed a trigger a certain train of thought, and he was derailing from the subject. And Loki was already by the hall, just a few meters away from his destination.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” you said.

With the illusion over you, your voice sounded deep and intimidating. Loki stopped by a corner to hear, his breath stopping as he felt eyes on, looking at him weirdly for standing by the door.

“Maybe I can stop by later by your office to see some advanced and get some work ahead with what’s already done. Would that work for you?”

Bingo.

“Ah, o-of course General!”

“Alright, I’ll try meeting you after your break.”

Loki soon heard footsteps, detecting your pace extra rushed and a close door.

“1-9-9-3” Loki heard.

Loki walked to the door, and typed in the code, which opened with a beep!

“Took you long enough” Loki teased you.

“Sorry, he focused on the work, I had to bring him to the office, so he’d think of the code”.

“Right, but I got dirty looks for standing by my own door like an idiot.”

“Not all of us are masters of manipulation” you whined. “Just get the data and meet me outside.”

You seemed to be an unbeatable team.

Loki felt comfortable around you. With time, comfort turned into friendship, which eventually turned friendship into fascination. He just loved learning about you, training and improving together, sharing secrets, developing inside jokes and codes that only you two understood, and he loved hearing you laugh.

And soon, Loki couldn’t stand being away from you.

“Darling, I’m thinking getting a drink by that coffee shop we like, would you like to come?” he asked, leaning on your door frame.

“A-Ah... sorry Loki-Doki, I can’t right now... This report is taking me longer than I thought” you declined as you stretched on your chair. “How’s yours going?”

“I haven’t finished either, turns out you can’t stretch much of infiltrating an auction without dozing off” he shrugged, and smiled at your shock, “I was hoping some coffee would wake me up.”

“I don’t know, Loki... I really don’t want to come back to work on this.”

“Come on, love” he insisted, “It’ll be my treat.”

You thought about it, and Loki felt a delightful warmth running through his chest when he saw the smile reluctantly make its way on your face, your resolve breaking under the tempting offer.

“And maybe a big cookie...?” you asked innocently.

He flicked his wrist making his body be engulfed by his magic, to transform him into his now recurrent disguise, it was subtle, but it was impressive what changing his hair to short blonder hair and a beard did to conceal his presence.

“Is there any other way to have coffee?”

The whole walk you protested, calling Loki a bad influence and fearing you wouldn’t be able to finish in time unless you pulled an all-nighter, and how you couldn’t comprehend how Loki could be so chill about not handing it over in time. Loki just laughed at you whiny rant only making your cheeks reddened as you continue scolding him for laughing at you about something so serious.

You had already arrived at the coffee shop and ordered while Loki went to save a seat for you to keep chatting and drinking while you chatted.

“Thanks for treating me this time, darling” Loki said as you handed him his cup, “but next time I’ll be the one to pay.”

“It’s okay, I just needed something heavier to work tonight” you groaned as you took a big sip of your coffee.

“It’s just a report, love” Loki reminded you, “they won’t kick us out if one of their 18 reports they’ll get anyway.”

“No, they won’t kick you out!” you snapped, “you are worth keeping. I’m just a low-tier mutant.”

“Ah, right, because there’s so many of them around, willing to work for good and keep up with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s demanding regime and lifestyle.”

“There’s more of us than actual than a god magician prince, it’s just the trifecta of «we must keep him! » and that’s without mentioning you’re the little brother of one of the 6 Og Avengers! They’d be insane not to keep you regardless of what you do!”

“Like going rouge and trying to conquer Earth... again?” Loki said flatly, “Half of the time, I can’t tell if they actually want me to be here, or if I’m just being contained to be able to prevent, I plot against Midgard. I’m not an Avenger, I’m just a high-class prisoner.”

“Shut your mouth, because that’s not true, Loki” you shushed him, placing a finger on his mouth, “I know that’s not true.”

Loki gave you a weird look, you were very touchy with everyone in the Compound, but, in the Compound, you weren’t one to be so physical in public.

“I’ve asked everyone in the Compound what they think of you, and... they say they like you, but...”

A waitress interrupted you to bring the freshly out of the oven jumbo chocolate chip cookies, which you thanked her rather loudly and kept on staring at the spot where she had stood, after she had gone back to work behind the counter.

“But...?” Loki inquired, getting your attention back.

“But what?” you asked innocently.

It was then that Loki noticed the pink tint on your cheeks.

“Do you feel alright, sweetheart?”

“Yes, of course... what was I talking about?” you said, grabbing your cup with sloppy hands

“... They said they liked me...” Loki reminded you, wary of your moves.

“Ah, right, right, right!” you said. “But I wasn’t satisfied, so I peeked in their minds, and they thought they could trust you when you first joined, but they think trusting you was the best decision they ever made, because you’re quite a softie.”

“A softie?!” Loki gasped indignantly.

“Yes, cute right? They think you turned into a softie, but I think you’ve always been, but we broke down your defenses, and you actually like us too...” you said before bursting into giggles.

Loki just denied such claims, watching you giggle and laugh as his anger quickly subdued to curiosity and concern with your current state.

“You are though! Like when you helped Peter with his literature by translating old Asgardian novels for him. Or how you gifted Clint and Kate an old set of bow and arrow made by the dwarves...”

Loki rolled his eyes as you kept listing things Loki had done for everyone, while he looked at you drag words, your silly mood, your pink cheeks, and clumsy motions... He knew these symptoms.

“Hey! That’s mine!” you yelled as he grabbed your cup and took off the lid to sniff the drink. “Don’t drink it!”

The smell was faint compared to what he knew in Asgard, but this was undeniably alcohol.

“Sweetheart, what are you drinking?”

“It’s Irish coffee, it’s very bitter...” you pouted.

“This is alcohol,” Loki asked severely, “why on Earth would you drink something like this?!”

You shrunk in your seat like a kid at his scolding, making Loki’s heart ache. He didn’t like seeing you upset, but this wasn’t normal behavior, much less from you.

Loki had only seen you this drunk once before. You had been like this, angry and pressured to push a limit. You had been in an awful mood the whole day, and by the night, you sneaked to the drinks cabinet and drank down half of a wine bottle by the time Loki found you. And just like now, you had gone from angry and stressed to giggly secret-spilling, with the mindset of basically a toddler, that’s how he had learned his brother like doing karaoke nights to cheesy pop songs on dorky Midgardian pajamas and frog feet-shaped slippers and that Stark had Captain America trousers.

But he knew that angry drinking wasn’t a healthy habit, especially on you, who angry drank without pacing or measuring yourself, so you got very drunk, very quick.

“But yeah, we all adore having you around Loki” you babbled “and I agree with Thor, you’re his favorite, you know?”

Now that he didn’t expect, you weren’t much to talk about your feelings. But hearing that made him melt. You were trying to assure him that even his brother loved him, but the implication that you liked him as well made him stupidly happy.

He just smiled and grabbed your hand.

“Come on, love” he said gently, “Let’s get you home.”

Soon he realized you were drunk beyond what he had seen you, you could barely stand up, so with a sigh, Loki kneeled to let you climb on his back giving you a piggyback ride. You shyly accepted given you were not gonna be able to walk on your own.

And it turned out rather nice having you against him with your arms around his neck, you were warm and comfortably resting your head on his shoulder as you giggled while spilling dorky secrets to the young prince. All harmless innocent stuff, but amusing, nonetheless. And it usually came from places of care and concern.

“...And Peter has an Iron-Man plushy that he talks to when he’s nervous...” you mumbled, “I wish I could tell him he can go to the real Tony, but I can tell him I know...”

“You know a lot of secrets, don’t you?” Loki teased you.

“Sorry...” you said hiding your face against his shoulder.

“Dear heart, what could you possibly be apologizing for?” Loki asked gently.

“I don’t know these secrets because I want to...” you mumbled, “I can’t help but catch the thoughts like passing conversations on the street.”

“We are aware, and it was hard to get used to,” he admitted “but we are aware you don’t intend to hear people’s thoughts.”

“I know... but people still get angry about it,” you muttered “I don’t intend to, but no one likes feeling their privacy was invaded. I hate being the way I am...”

“Don’t say that dove, I doubt anyone in the building blames you” he assured you. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, love.”

“Thanks Loki” you said, as you nuzzled against his neck.

Immediately he jolted as he felt your breath against his skin.

“Ah, sorry, I wasn’t trying to tickle you.”

“Yeah, you are” you pouted, “you can lie but your brain doesn’t. You’re very-very super very ticklish... Look you’re getting embarrassed because I’m right!”

It would be useless to lie given you could see right through him.

“You’re super ticklish... here.”

And right then he felt your hands sneaking under his arms, as your fingertips wiggled against his armpits, which immediately made him break into laughter.

“Ehehehe-hey!” he cackled, “Stohohohop it!”

“See? So ticklish, and so cute” you smiled as you changed to scratch with your fingernails, making Loki double over with laughter. “And I’d dare to say you like it.”

“Shuhuhut ihihit, you mihinx!” he whined. “Thahahat’s so bad!”

“Ow, but it’s fun...” you whined, breathing against his neck, which only tickled more.

And then something unexpected happened, between the tickles that were overwhelming and having all his focus spent on not dropping you, his magic failed, making his spell wear off, revealing his usual self.

“Uh-oh...” you mumbled shyly.

The previous scene had earned a few looks from bystanders, but their endearment and amusement turned into horror when they saw Loki’s real appearance. You hid against him when Loki, barely with time to recover from the giggle fit you had induced on him, summoned a teleportation spell and both of you disappeared under a green cloud.

You reappeared on the halls of the Compound, right by your door, so with a relieved sigh he opened it and delicately placed you in your bed. Before sitting beside you.

“Sorry I ruined the fun” you muttered.

“Fun?” he gasped indignantly, “You called tickling me to pieces fun?”

You nodded.

“I do not like being tickled, you’re talking nonsense” he huffed. “It’s so childish and idiotic.”

“And it puts you in a good mood because it’s mischievous fun” you cut him off.

“You’re insane.”

“It’s okay” you assured him, patting his hand, “I like getting tickled too.”

That made Loki perk up his ears.

“Do you, now?” he smirked. “Well, well, well... Now that’s a secret I’m interested in.”

Immediately your face turned red as your eyes grew wide as plates, as he leaned to straddle your with his hands as he sat on your upper thighs.

“W-Wait! Wahahait, Loki! Nononono, Loki don’t, I’m stupidly ticklish I—”

“Oh, are you?” he grinned. “My, my... I’ve always loved your drunk honesty, but this is the most important bits of information you’ve given me...”

“Loki!” you whined as you covered your beet red face with your hands.

An opportunity he took to scratch your sides, making you jolt and burst into bright silly hiccupy giggles.

“Lohohohoki! Thahahat hic tihihihickles, plehehehease hic hic—!”

That was an adorable sight, you squeezed his wrists, yet not pushing him away. Guess you weren’t lying about actually liking getting tickles.

“Please what, darling? Please more? Please tickle me to pieces? Gladly” he teased as moved to knead that sides of your belly.

You wheezed arching your back as he gave repeated pinches to the sides of your tummy, slowly climbing to your ribs, pinching and squeezing your ribs and sides, causing you to scream with laughter.

“Ah, so pretty and so ticklish... and so helpless” he growled as he sneaked his fingers under your arms.

“AHAHAHEHE, LOHOHOHOHOKI STAHAHAHAP!”

“No, I don’t feel like stopping, you shouldn’t have a problem taking what you dished out on me earlier, would you?”

“PLEHEHEHEASE LOKI! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHRE!”

He simply decided to take it up a notch, grabbing your wrists, and pinning them both above your head, making you even more helpless to his tickling free hand.

“LOHOHOHOK—” you protest was got off by a wheeze that sentenced the end of the screaming laughter.

Now the only sound you could make was wheeze in silent laughter and gasp for air as Loki tickled you silly. Tears began streaming down your face as Loki’s hand roamed to squeeze, pinch and scribble over every ticklish spot it could find. He only stopped when you began coughing between gasps of air.

He got off you and saw you curl your legs up to your chest in an attempt to protect yourself. But it only made Loki grab your feet and take off your shoes and socks.

“Noohohoho, no, no Loki please nohoho dohohon’t tihihihck— ACK!”

A single finger scratch with his nail across your sole made you jump and swing your foot, kicking Loki right on the stomach making him fall off the bed.

“Oh my gosh, Loki, I’m sorry!” you said, truly horrified.

The trickster god, huffed and groaned in pain, not expecting a human kick to do so much harm.

“I’m quite alright, you’re just stronger than I thought” Loki said, “I’m impressed.”

You went down to sit next to him, placing a gentle hand on his stomach. Truly it didn’t hurt after initial impact, but you weren’t going to be at peace until you’d check yourself. And maybe he enjoyed having your hands on him.

Until it tickled.

“Hehey!” he whined.

“Sorry...” you said, as a smiled shyly.

“Oh, no I know exactly what you’re thinking” he groaned, “I do not, I repeat, I do not enjoy these childish games."

“I can tell you do, but that’s okay... I know you’re not the type to admit you like something...”

“Wha— What is that supposed to mean?” Loki asked.

“A-Ah! Nothing no... it’s nothing!” you squeaked nervously.

“Darling, you may read minds, but I am the God of it,” Loki said, “I can tell exactly when someone is lying.”

“N-No, it’s nothing!” you said as you curled up on the spot, hiding your face on behind your knees.

“Darling... you’re scaring me... What’s wrong?”

“Can you promise you won’t get mad...?” you asked.

“I don’t think you could truly upset me” Loki comforted you as he grabbed your hand to give it a gentle reassuring squeeze. “After all, you are my favorite.”

Your face turned red and a shy smiled appeared on your face for a moment, before that anguished look made its way back to your features.

“We were getting ready for the last mission, and I heard you, Thor and the others talking... About... me. How you maybe sort of actually... liked-liked me. And you said no... but, your thoughts... did not agree.”

Oh, oh no. Oh dear, oh gods.

Now a lot of things made more sense. How your face was red was in when you walked in the room, and how you suddenly decided to pair up with Steve to rescue the hostages rather than going for intel with him and Nat. How you were moody and distant afterwards. And why this mission report was causing you so much conflict.

You knew he liked you. You had managed to peek that thought of his mind. A thought even he refused to admit. But now, out in the open, he felt relieved, and the way you just seemed embarrassed.

“So you’ve known all this time? And that’s what upsets you?”

“You promised you wouldn’t get mad” you whined.

“I’m not, I think you are more upset than I am!” he laughed, before realizing something, “Does it bother you...? That I long for you like this?”

“N-No...” you mumbled, “Not at all... I maybe sort of like you too...”

“Then why were you so upset?”

“How would you feel if you realized the person you have a massive crush on likes you too but you can’t do anything about it without revealing you may have stepped his boundaries?”

“Massive crush, eh?” he grinned. “So.. It's safe to say that you wouldn’t mind if I stole a k—hmpf!”

He was interrupted by a pair of lips against his own, that quickly melted him into a kiss. You had placed your hand on the side of his neck, sliding it to the back to play with his hair. The young prince pulled you closer to kiss you more, even pinning you against the side of your bed.

Only breaking the kiss when you needed to gasp for air. And he got to admire you bright open eyes staring at him with a huge happy grin.

“Beat you to it” you smiled.

“Whahat?” he laughed.

“I stole the kiss” you beamed proudly.

He smiled as he leaned to kiss you again.

“Now that you admitted you liked me... will you admit you like getting tickled...?”

“Mmm, not yet...” he grinned. “But I have something better in mind.”

“Wha— No! N—EEEEEEEHHH!”

But Loki had already tackled you on the floor and went back to tickling you silly once more. But it was fine, one big confession at the time, and today had been more than enough.

| MASTERPOST |

#marvel tickles #marvel fluff #ticklish!loki #ticklish!reader #ler!loki #ler!reader #lee!loki #lee!reader #loki x reader #loki tickle #loki fluff #geek #ducky writes tickles

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lowkeyerror · 2 years

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Mini Masterlist Marvel Edition

Welcome to my Mini Marvel Masterlist. New format because of the 100 links cap! Just like before, unless stated otherwise everything is female x reader. Well I'm sure you saw the greeting messages at the main masterlist, if you didn't here. Find something you like and get all comfy cozy, hope you enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff

I Lost Everything Pt1 & Pt2

Ex Military, New SHIELD

I Never Thought You’d Say It

She Wouldn’t Want This

You Left Me

Failure

I Wish I Would've

Adapt

Not What I Expected

Not From This Universe

A Little Mischief

Reformed

Exhaustion

Open the Door

Young & Capable

Ms. Romanoff

Nobody Knows

Spend My Time On Us

Wanda Maximoff

Invisible Thief Pt1 & Pt2

I Have To See Her Again

Distraction Pt1 & Pt2

Party

Simple

Little Brother's Best Friend

Holiday Season 🎄

Love Thy Neighbor

More Than Just A Mission

War Pt1 & Pt2

I'm Yours

Power Dynamics Pt1 & Pt2

Insecure

Unforgettable

Ex-Avenger

Best Friend's Wedding

Feeble Minded

Unsober Activities

Messy

Prom

Don't Forget You're Mine

The Gardener

Drunk

Comfort

Strong

The Lion's Den

The Villain's Hero Pt 1 & Pt2

Reputation

By Your Side

Effort

Warmth

WandaNat

Teammates Pt1 & Pt2

Syllabus Week

My Fault

Third Wheel Pt1 & Pt2

An Earth Kiss

No Escape

The Family Buisness

Agatha Harkness

I Can’t Do This Anymore

I'm Sorry ( Agatha Harkness x Wanda Maximoff)

A Young Ache

Power

Real

Yelena Belova

Nights With You

Car Troubles

Ambush

Kate Bishop

Partner

Drowning

Hero

Home For The Holidays

Teamwork

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x wanda maximoff #agatha harkness x reader #yelena belova imagines #yelena imagine #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x reader #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop x reader #masterlist

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pascaloverx · 3 months

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As It Was (S2)

Chapter Fourteen (final)

previous chapter

Author's note: Dear readers, this is the end of this story that made me very happy. It's the third fanfic I've completed and the first one I've written. It's been a personal pleasure, and I hope you follow my other fanfics if you can. The end of this fanfic with Bucky Barnes.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS STORY, there may be adult content and verbal and physical violence.

The end of the story is always too nostalgic, the conclusion of an entire narrative that guided you through a part of life. In books, the end is marked by the conclusion of the main story. But in my life, the ending is marked by blood.

"Listen carefully, future Mrs. Barnes. I want you in the back of this building unarmed and alone. I promise to give you the clean and peaceful death you deserve. One of your best friends is already dead, I believe you wouldn't want others to die too..." Killian speaks in my ear with a macabre tone. He killed Dave, it must be. Damn it, Bucky was right, my plan went wrong.

My heart skips a beat at the thought that my best friend may have died because I couldn't let it go. I couldn't help but cry at the thought of my friend being dead, because of me. My vision blurred, almost causing me to collapse to the ground, feeling a knot in my stomach; while next to me, Steve had already lost consciousness.

"Melisa!" James Barnes is coming towards me with a concerned expression. I don't want to have to tell him that everything went terribly wrong.

"Why is your shirt, your suit, stained... there's blood smeared here too. Don't come closer. In fact, get the rest of the guys and run. I thought I could take on Killian, but he'll never let me survive it all." I can't hold back the tears when I realize this is our farewell. A forever goodbye from two unlucky lovers trapped in a love story doomed to fail.

"Do you think I'm going to run away and leave you here to face a psychopath alone?" Barnes approaches, but I step back. If he gets close to me, it will be my end. I can't leave, I can't give up on him. But that means exposing everyone to death.

"My life is not worth the sacrifice, my love. Think of Yelena, Sam, Wanda, and... Dave may be injured somewhere in this building. Killian won't leave here without me, so let me be his only victim. Survive, live. That's all I ask of you." It's not easy to say these words, but I need to be strong. Barnes obviously isn't leaving; in fact, he only gets closer and closer to me. Soon Killian will be in the back of this building, and if I don't go there, I believe he will kill everyone. Even though it doesn't make sense, I can't think straight right now.

"My love, I'm with you. Till death do us part. Killian may have harmed Dave and Sam, we may not know exactly where Yelena and Wanda are, but look... we all know how to take care of ourselves, and we knew the consequences of your plan. Dying is part of life." The tranquility in Barnes' voice is enviable. I don't even notice when he hugs me, trying to reassure me. The despair weighing on my heart begins to fade, as does the feeling that the world is spinning around me.

"What are we going to do, Barnes?" Is all that comes out of my mouth before Bucky kisses my lips softly. To an outsider, one wouldn't imagine that there's a wounded man lying nearby and a murderer hunting me down.

"You pray that my aim is very bad. I warned you, dear Melisa. It would have been better if only you had died, but I must say that James is a perfect addition. Any last words?" Killian speaks, pointing a gun at both of us. If he were to shoot now, he would hit Barnes first, and if it went through him, the bullet would hit me. But he doesn't do that; it's as if Killian wants to be face to face with me and Barnes. Curious fact, an agent as well-trained as Barnes is always prepared. Prepared to the extreme. So prepared that I myself am startled to see him pull out a sharp-bladed knife and throw it towards Killian, who react. The knife was on Barnes' waist, and now it has pierced Killian's skull, essentially killing him. A great day for us, I would think, but unfortunately, before dying, he shot towards nothing. That nothing hit Barnes' chest. I couldn't even react. The man of my life was dying right in front of my eyes.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit.... you, I'm going to try to stop the bleeding. Stay awake. Hey, my love, stay awake." I say, holding back the tears that are already threatening to come out. I tear the bottom part of my wedding dress, trying to prevent the blood from flowing.

"You know, I knew since that barbecue that I would die for you. I just didn't think it would be so soon. I..." Barnes says with difficulty, letting out a grunt of pain as I hold the torn fabric against his chest, "didn't want to die without saying that I love you. Loving you certainly made me a happy man." It's all he can say as the sparkle in his eyes is fading. I kiss his lips with a taste of blood, fearing that no one will come to help. I scream loudly for help. The priest who was supposed to marry us appears behind me; seeing that Barnes is injured, he says he will seek help.

"You heard, my love, the priest is going to get someone to help. And you'll be okay. We'll get married again, and I'll be Mrs. Barnes. We'll grow old together and maybe have one or two children. Don't leave me here without you." I can't hold back the tears anymore, and then my sobbing takes over me. Barnes tries to respond, but his eyes close. They close never to open again.

I don't remember how long I stayed on the floor crying, screaming for Barnes to come back, cursing everything and everyone. All I know is that at some point my voice was gone. And I passed out. I woke up in a hospital a day later, thinking it was all just a nightmare. But in Yelena's eyes, who was beside me in the hospital room, I saw the look of someone who lost someone very dear. She informed me that while I was dealing with Steve, she, Sam, and Wanda were being captured by Killian's henchmen. By the time they finally got rid of the henchmen, it was too late. Dave and Barnes were dead. She tried to console me, but I was too exhausted. So, crying, I eventually fell asleep.

One year later...

"Sam, grab the bag for me, I can't go anywhere without Bucky's special bag." I shout as I hold my son in my arms, rocking him back and forth. Sam comes down the stairs with the bag. Today is the day to visit the graves of the men I loved and who died. My father, James, and Dave.

"This boy is getting bigger every day. You were just a little bump in your mom's belly the other day. Now you even have a special bag." Sam says to little Bucky, who is all alert today.

"My godson looks like a little man in the outfit his godmother gave him, doesn't he?" Yelena says, playing with Bucky's fingers as he tries to put her fingers in his mouth. He's in a phase of putting everything he sees in his mouth.

"Melisa will have to have a lot of patience to put up with you two pampering Bucky. Now, put the baby in the car seat, the way to the cemetery is long, and little Bucky has a bedtime." Wanda says, patting Sam and Yelena on the back as they hurry to put the baby and his things in the car. At that moment, I smile, thinking about how blessed I am to have them by my side. We arrived at the cemetery about forty minutes after leaving my house. Everyone paid their respects to the deceased, and lastly, I introduced our son to his father.

"So, my love. This one, sleeping peacefully in my arms, is our son. If you're wondering, we made him the same day we fought because I made a stupid plan and you didn't want to participate. And you were right. Unfortunately, I'm late to say this. I'm sorry you can't see our baby, but he looks just like you. I swear, he even has your eyes," I say, touching Barnes' gravestone while holding our son with the other hand. Our son is sleeping so peacefully that it feels like I can sense Barnes with us.

"I have to take him home now, but I want you to know that even though you're not here physically, all of us, especially me, will always teach little Bucky here about the hero you were." I say, bidding farewell and leaving. Barnes and I didn't live a perfect love story, but we definitely experienced a love that made history.

The End

#bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes fanfiction #james barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #james barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #marvel fanfiction #oc female #sebastian stan characters #sam wilson #yelena belova #wanda maximoff #Spotify #steve rogers villain #fanfic steve rogers #ex to lovers #angst end #spotify

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