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ginnsbaker · 9 months

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Bulletproof

Summary: You're the only Avenger who sleeps in a cell. | Series Masterlist

Word count: 2.9k+ | Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, Sharing A Bed, Enemies to Lovers

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Requested by anon:

could i maybe request wanda x r where the whole team kinda mistreats them and wanda is especially bad. & r saving wanda on a mission, with this: wanda: “How'd you know you were bulletproof?" r: "I didn't. I just knew that you weren't."

Author's note: Thank you to the anon who requested this :) Not sure if this is exactly how you wanted it, but I had fun writing the battle (my first time!) Hope you don't mind I took some liberties ;) Takes place before Civil War.

“You don’t have to be so mean to them,” Natasha tells her.

Wanda's eyes narrow as she continues to fixate on you, her glare seemingly willing the daggers to find their mark. You can sense the energy of her powers tingling in the air, but she maintains control, stopping the daggers just short of their target.

“They need to know what they’re up against,” Wanda retorts, her accent slipping through in a rare moment. “If they’re going to be one of us, they have to prove themselves.”

Natasha moves to stand between you and Wanda, her body language calm but assertive. “They will, in time. But not like this.”

You can feel your heart pounding, but you refuse to let Wanda see any fear in your eyes. Your choice to leave your former life and join this team wasn't made lightly, and you won't be intimidated.

“I'm right here,” you say, stepping forward. “And I'm not going anywhere. If you want to test me, do it properly.”

Wanda smirks, and the daggers drop to the floor, clattering loudly in the silence. “Impressive,” she says, almost as an afterthought.

Steve Rogers, observing from the sidelines, steps in to defuse the situation. His authoritative presence commands respect, and his voice is steady and even. “That's enough for today. We're a team, and we need to start acting like one.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with understanding but also a hint of caution. “However,” he continues, his tone shifting, “You'll still be sleeping in the cells.”

Your heart plummets, each word from Steve feeling like a blade to your chest. Being sent back to that room, devoid of windows, with only a tiny bed and a comforter too thin to ward off the chill, feels like a betrayal every time. You've spent nights there, shivering and reflecting on your decision to join this team, yet still, you find yourself confined.

“After several months of captivity, even cooking your dinner, you still don't trust me?” you ask, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice.

Steve's expression softens, but his resolve remains firm. “It's not about trust,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of experience and pain. “We've been crossed so many times before, mostly by former HYDRA agents.”

Like you, he doesn’t need to say.

You understand the logic, but it doesn't make the reality any easier to swallow. The sense of being an outsider, the cold isolation of the cells—it wears on you.

Wanda, who had been silent up to this point, suddenly speaks up. “Maybe you should just leave then. If it's so unbearable, why stay?”

The room goes quiet.

A thousand retorts spring to your mind, but you swallow them down, unwilling to escalate the situation further. The temptation to throw back that it's rich coming from her, considering she's also a former footsoldier of HYDRA, is strong, but you bite your tongue.

You look at her, stunned by the bluntness of her suggestion, but also recognizing the challenge in her eyes.

Her words strike deeper than she may realize. Leaving isn't an option you've entertained, mainly because there's nowhere for you to go. No one left in your life to turn to. This makeshift “family” despite their reservation and distance, is all you have.

The days that follow are marked by a subtle but relentless isolation.

In the training room, Wanda's partnership becomes more aggressive than usual. Her powers lash out without warning, her critiques sharp and cutting. You hold your own, but the lack of camaraderie is palpable. Each comment she makes stings, and with every barb, you feel more and more alone.

At meal times, the rest of the Avengers seem to be in their own world, deep in conversation, sharing stories, laughing. You sit at the end of the table, your presence barely acknowledged, a shadow among them. Your attempts to join in are met with curt replies or indifference. You try to brush it off, believing that you should be used to rejection by now. But no matter how much you tell yourself that you're accustomed to it, that you've developed a thick skin, the pain is still there, raw and fresh.

Mission briefings are no better. Your opinions and insights are consistently overlooked. You contribute where you can, but your ideas are dismissed without consideration. You are a tool, a means to an end, not a part of the team. The realization gnaws at you, festering in the pit of your stomach.

Casual encounters with the team become equally disheartening. Tony passes you in the hallway without so much as a glance. Natasha avoids eye contact. Bruce mumbles something noncommittal when you try to engage him in conversation. Steve's assignments are devoid of the warmth or encouragement he shows to everyone else.

Your cell becomes a constant reminder of your status, metaphor for how the entire team treats you.

You’re both just a weapon and a first-aid kit at their disposal.

Wanda is relentless, her words sharp and her gaze cold. You have no idea why she treats you worse than any of them, why her manner towards you has turned so hostile. You don't understand why you get under her skin without even trying, why she seems to target you with a venom that feels deeply personal.

You were expecting that Wanda would be the one to understand what it feels like to be an outsider, given that you both share a common history as former HYDRA agents.

As the days turn into weeks, the isolation wears you down. The walls of your cell seem to close in, and a growing determination to prove yourself begins to take hold.

You'll show them all that you're more than just a disposable weapon.

But underlying that determination is a gnawing doubt, a fear that no matter what you do, it will never be enough to earn their respect, their trust, or their friendship. It's a lonely road, and for the first time, you begin to wonder if Wanda's earlier suggestion might hold some truth.

Perhaps it would be easier to leave.

It’s not like you know the extent of your abilities, but they bring you along the most dangerous missions for one thing:

Your healing ability.

On top of your martial arts training, you provide a sense of security to your teammates, knowing that you'll be there to heal them if they get hurt.

Now, you find yourself on one such mission, infiltrating a den of underground supers. These aren't ordinary criminals; they're mercenaries hired to carry out the dirty work of high-ranking government officials. It's a treacherous job, one filled with unknown risks, and you've been paired with Wanda for the operation.

As you and Wanda are attempting to escape, things take a turn for the worse. You find yourselves cornered in an alley, your escape route cut off by a group of armed thugs and a few individuals displaying unnerving superpowers.

Wanda takes on those with special abilities, her eyes glowing red as she unleashes her powers in a flurry of attacks. You, on the other hand, focus on the armed assailants, wielding two-handed pistols with expert precision. Bullets fly, and bodies fall as you both fight for your lives.

But in the midst of the chaos, you notice something that sends a chill down your spine. Snipers, perched on a nearby rooftop, taking aim at Wanda. Even with your healing abilities, you know that a precise shot to the head would be fatal.

“Wanda, get down!” you shout, but she's too engrossed in her battle to hear you. Your mind races, knowing that you have only seconds to act.

Without a second thought, you turn and run towards Wanda, your body moving on pure instinct. Bullets whiz by your ear, but you keep going, your focus solely on reaching her before it's too late.

You leap into the air, positioning yourself between Wanda and the snipers just as they pull the trigger.

You hear the distant release of the bullet, muted but deadly.

The world seems to slow down as you brace for the impact, only to feel the bullets bounce off your skin.

You land, unscathed, your mind reeling from the realization that you're bulletproof. But there's no time to dwell on it.

Wanda looks at you, her eyes wide with shock but also gratitude. “How did you–”

“No time!” you cut her off, urging her to keep fighting. “We have to get out of here!”

Wanda's eyes flare with a vivid scarlet as she zeroes in on the snipers in the vicinity. With a flourish of her hands, she uses her powers to locate each of their positions. A pulse of energy emanates from her fingertips, reaching out to the snipers' weapons, and within moments, the firearms disintegrate into dust, leaving the men defenseless.

Seeing an opening, you reach for Wanda's arm, your grip firm but not rough. There's no time to waste, and you start pulling her towards the exit, half running, half dragging her to safety. Her breath is warm on your neck, her body close to yours, as you weave through the maze of alleyways, your heart pounding in your chest.

Once you're at a safe distance, Wanda turns to you. “How'd you know you were bulletproof?”

“I didn't,” you admit, still in disbelief, and much to Wanda’s horror that you almost got yourself killed for her sake. “I just knew you weren't. And if those bullets got to you, I wouldn't be able to heal someone who's already dead.”

Wanda stares at you, her eyes searching your face as if she's trying to see something… deeper. Her lips part, like she wants to say something more, something that's just on the tip of her tongue but won't come out.

That's when you realize that you're still holding her arm, your bodies so close that you can feel her heartbeat. A flush of embarrassment washes over you as you become aware of the intimate proximity. Wanda clears her throat, a delicate, almost shy sound, and you immediately let go of her arm.

The silence that follows your sudden step back is heavy and awkward. You can't help but glance at the spot where your hand had been moments ago, still feeling the ghostly sensation of her arm beneath your fingers.

You look at Wanda, and she's looking back at you, her eyes wide and filled with something you can't quite name.

And then, without warning, Wanda starts to laugh.

It's a soft, bubbling sound at first, almost as if she's surprised by it herself. Her laughter grows, becoming louder and more contagious, and you can't help but stare at her, your mouth agape, wondering if she's lost her mind.

“What's so funny?” you finally manage to ask.

Wanda wipes a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “I was just thinking,” she says, her nose scrunching, something you haven’t seen on her and you find it quite… adorable. “You're like a shield now. As effective as Steve's vibranium one, maybe even more so.”

The absurdity of the statement causes you to finally join in her laugh, and your heart seems to flutter at the sound of Wanda's glee.

“I don't know about that,” you say, trying to sound modest but unable to keep the smile off your face. “Steve's shield has a bit more style.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Wanda teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “There's something quite stylish about being bulletproof. And practical too.”

Was that a compliment?

You shake your head, still smiling, your previous awkwardness forgotten. You're not only pleased at the first light banter you've shared with a teammate but also smiling at something else, something that stirs deep inside you and that you're not quite ready to confront.

Your crush on Wanda Maximoff.

The toll of the day's event is weighing down on you and Wanda, but like every mission, you're required to report the details of the mission–successful or not. Your muscles are sore, your mind is weary, but the mission was a success, and you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

Arriving back at the Avengers compound, you follow Wanda into the debriefing room where Steve is waiting. Wanda explains what happened, how you discovered your newfound ability, and saved her life. Her voice is filled with respect and something more, something warmer, as she recounts your bravery.

Steve's face lights up with pride. “You both did well today. I'm proud of how you handled yourselves out there.”

You exchange a glance with Wanda, waiting for something more, perhaps some acknowledgment of your change in status within the team, or even an upgrade to your sleeping quarters. But instead, Steve simply nods, his face turning serious. “Dismissed.”

Wanda's face falls, and you feel a sharp pang of disappointment. You start to retreat towards your cell, the cold, windowless room that's been your home for months, but Wanda's voice stops you in your tracks.

“Wait a minute, Steve,” she protests. “After all that's happened, after all Y/N has done for us, don't you think it's time for a change? A real room, perhaps?”

Steve looks between you and Wanda. You hold your breath, hoping for a reprieve from the isolation you've been feeling.

Finally, Steve sighs, his face softening. “Wanda, if it were up to me, Y/N would have their own room already. But it's not that simple,” he explains, his voice strained. “I still need to place an official request with Tony. He's the one who approves these things.”

You can hear the frustration in Steve's voice, and you realize that he's fighting for you, in his own way.

“Fine,” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “But this needs to be done quickly, Steve. It's not right.”

“I agree. I'll talk to Tony first thing tomorrow.”

As you turn to leave and retreat back to your cell, Wanda's hand on your arm stops you, and you look back at her, surprised by the action.

“Come with me,” she says. Without another word, she leads you towards her quarters.

Your heart quickens at her words, and you follow her, trying to process what's happening.

Is she really inviting you to stay in her room?

Once inside her quarters, the reality of the situation sinks in, and a nervous tension takes hold. Her room is filled with personal touches–little trinkets, photographs, her clothes all over the place–that provide glimpses into a life you've only seen from a distance. You feel like an intruder, momentarily paralyzed as you take in the intimacy of her space.

Wanda seems to pick up on your hesitation, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. A smirk plays on her lips as she teases, “Don't look so terrified. I won't bite.”

You chuckle at her remark. “Well, that's a relief.”

Wanda's eyes sparkle with amusement, and she moves further into the room, gesturing for you to follow. “Make yourself at home,” she says. She then goes to the closet and begins to pull out a spare pillow and blanket. “You'll be staying here with me until we sort out a room for you,” she says.

“Thanks, Wanda,” you say softly.

Without further comment, you move to make your bed on the floor, your movements deliberate and slow as you try to give her space and respect her privacy.

“What are you doing?” Wanda asks, her eyes widening as she realizes your intention.

“I'm just getting ready to sleep,” you explain, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I'm quite tired.”

“No, what are you doing on the floor?” she clarifies, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “You're sharing the bed with me.”

“I wouldn't want to impose,” you say, though the offer is tempting.

“You're not imposing,” Wanda assures you, her eyes sincere. “You've earned a proper bed, and I trust you.”

The word 'trust' hits you like a wave, and you feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes.

Blinking them back, your voice cracks a little as you reply, “Thank you, Wanda. That means more to me than you know.”

“Good night, Y/N,” Wanda whispers, turning on her side to face you.

“Good night, Wanda,” you say, just as softly.

You both settle on the bed, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda uses her powers to switch off the light.

The softness of Wanda's bed is worlds away from the harsh, unforgiving mattress in your cell. You find yourself sinking into the plush comfort, every muscle in your body releasing the tension from the dangerous mission earlier. The scent of Wanda on the pillows only adds to the incomparable comfort they provide. The difference is staggering, and it contributes to you falling asleep much more quickly than you have in a long time.

In the middle of the night, you're stirred awake by the feeling of Wanda rolling closer to you. Her arm finds its way over your stomach, and her soft snores fill the room. Being ever alert, the small action wakes you, but as soon as you realize it's just Wanda, a smile forms on your face.

You lie there for a moment, taking in the warmth and the gentle pressure of her hand. A soft blush creeps up your cheeks as you place your hand over hers to keep it there.

You've become more than just teammates.

You've become friends.

And maybe, just maybe, something more.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #captain america civil war #the avengers #oneshots #steve rogers #fic request

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 16 days

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One Shots

First Encounters (Daddy!Natasha x Fem!Reader) 18+

My Masterpiece (Photography Professor!Fem!Reader x Subby!Student!Wanda) 18+

Submission (Photography Professor!Fem!Reader x Subby!Student!Wanda)

Oh Captain My Captain (Carol Danvers x GN!Shapeshifter!Reader) 18+ requested

My Voice of Reason (Carol Danvers x fem!Avenger!reader) requested

How You and I Became We (Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader)

Under Her Spell (Top!Mommy!Agatha Harkness x subby!bottom!fem!Reader) 18+

Tender Temptations (Experienced!Agatha Harkness x innocent!reader) 18+requested

Stress Relief (Agatha Harkness x fem!reader) 18+ requested

Please Mommy? (Sugar Mommy!Agatha Harkness x Sugar baby!fem!reader) 18+ Requested

Mommy Can We Play? (Sugar Mommy!Agatha Harkness x Wanda Maximoff x Sugar baby!fem!reader) 18+

Mommy’s Good Girl (Dark!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader) 18+ requested

The Price of Power (Dark!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader) 18+ requested

Healing Bonds (Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader(past))

The Widow's Shadow (Natasha Romanoff x enhanced!Stark!Fem!Reader) 18+

If You Love Her (Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader(Past))

To Warm you Up (Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader)

Revolving Around You (Beefy!Natasha x Fem!Reader)

Calling On You (Wanda x Natasha x fem!avenger!reader) 18+

Lost and Found (Carol Danvers x Avengers!GN!Reader)

You Were Red and You Liked Me Because I Was Blue (Mom's bsf!Wanda Maximoff x shy!innocent!Romanoff!fem!reader) 18+ Requested

#ley speaks #ley writes #ley oneshots #ley one shots #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #carol danvers x reader #yelena belova x reader #agatha harkness x reader

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upon-a-starry-night · 10 days

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Love Favors The Misfortunate

Natasha Romanoff x Gender-Neutral Reader

Natasha Masterlist Main Masterlist

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Minor Violence

Summary: Misfortune always seems to follow you no matter what you do. But where there’s trouble, Nat often follows, maybe love was on your side after all?

Disclaimer: This was part of a writing exercise I did so it’s kind of silly and unedited but enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Somehow you always managed to wind up in the worst situations that Earth could possibly experience. You wondered if you were just cursed or something considering last week you were present for not one but two bank robberies.

Maybe that was just the life of a delivery driver?

You hoped the lady behind the bank counters Caesar salad tasted better after death threats and salty tears of desperation.

This time, however, in the middle of checking the GPS during a stoplight, the sound of screams alerts you to the number of people ditching their cars and running past your motorcycle in fear.

Looking up you see the giant rip in Earth's atmosphere, monster-looking creatures spilling out of the hole.

Oh, Good.

You immediately kick your motorcycle into gear, walking the bike through the crowds of people until you can manage to make a U-turn and speed off, weaving your way through the panic.

You spare a few glances into your mirrors as more flying monsters spill out of the sky and it's during one of these glances that you fail to notice the giant alien who has just landed in the street a few feet ahead of you. By the time you notice him you only have enough time to attempt a full stop which results in your bike sliding from under you and skidding across the pavement. Ouch.

Much to your luck, however, the bike collides directly with the monster and sends it straight into its own spear. A weird purple liquid oozing slowly from underneath the unconscious body.

You frown, it was going to cost a pretty penny to get your bike fixed if it was even salvageable and now you definitely weren’t getting paid for the hamburger and fries that were probably still warm in your delivery bag.

Maybe you could see if french fries taste better after near-death and motorcycle debt.

Wincing, you feel your arms already bruising and your jeans have ripped through to your thigh, you're not bleeding as much as you probably should be from that slide but it still hurts like hell. Thank god you were wearing all your safety equipment.

A hand is extended out to you and you graciously take it, looking up to meet eyes with the prettiest redhead you’ve ever seen. She’s giving you an impressed smile and you feel like you could melt right then and there. Although that might also be from the burning pain in your leg.

You probably need to find a hospital. Or maybe you were dead and this was an angel.

You always figured they’d look like the horrendous abomination of eyes and wings that they were described as, not as pretty redheads with striking green eyes but you weren’t complaining.

“That was a good move” There are still people running past you screaming but it feels like time stops when she speaks to you.

“Yep. that was definitely something I did on purpose” Drumming your fingers on your thighs you watch her chuckle and give you a look that tells you she knows you did not, in fact, do that on purpose.

You glance between your bike and the woman in front of you, screaming civilians making the moment almost comical. You felt like you were in some kind of rom-com apocalypse.

Despite it being the last thing you should probably do, you extend your hand out to her and tell her your name. She gives you a very amused look and you shrug your shoulders as if to say ‘Why not? We’re here aren’t we?’

She chuckles again as she takes your hand, introducing herself.

Natasha. Derived from the Russian name Anastasia, which means resurrection. Maybe she was an angel. Damn.

Natasha nods her head in the direction of the crowd and smirks “Shouldn’t you be joining them?” You shrug. “Unless you know more moves like that?” She gestures toward your beat-up bike and you shake your head

“No. Unfortunately, I haven't mastered the art of more than one motorcycle trick yet” Not that you could get that thing to start back up again after that anyway.

She shakes her head with a laugh, glancing over her shoulder at the mess the city is becoming before turning back to you. “ Well I guess until you learn you should probably get running”

You nod, a little dejected, your calmness in relativity to the situation was likely the result of a concussion but you weren’t worried. Unless Nat was not real, in that case, you should be worried. Very Worried.

“Will we meet again?” it’s cliche and you immediately feel like a protagonist in a Disney movie but it’s a genuine question.

She smirks and looks around at the city again, gesturing to the absolute clusterfuck that New York had become “For your sake, I hope we don't”

You know she doesn’t mean anything bad by it and it’s your turn to smirk when you say “Knowing my luck, we will” You hope she finds herself near a few banks in the upcoming months…

She smiles at you and nods her head in the direction of the crowd and you understand what she’s trying to tell you. With one final wave and a small “good luck” you run in the direction of your fellow New Yorkers, occasionally glancing back to see her running in the direction of the main battle.

You didn't know who she was but Damn did you want to.

~~~

The next time you find yourself in a particularly unfavorable situation is not for months later. Minus that one time you witnessed two old ladies get mugged and that time you almost got hit by an ice-cream truck. But you got free ice cream from the second one so you weren't counting it.

You’d taken up a job in a small pizza place to pay for your bike repairs. It didn’t pay much but you didn’t have that many options after New York got attacked by aliens and half the businesses were destroyed or temporarily shut down. This is one of the few places still open which means on Friday nights you were busy as hell.

It was not a Friday night. It was a Tuesday afternoon and your coworker who was supposed to be on shift with you called out sick which meant you were manning the shop by yourself. Your stupid coworker was probably just off cheating on his girlfriend again but you didn’t care because the shop was empty which meant you could play games on your phone without his judgmental stare.

You’re struggling through level 5 of Candy Crush when the sound of breaking glass comes from the front of the shop and you sigh. You would be surprised but it was New York, more specifically it was your life in New York.

What you are surprised by, however, is the sight of familiar red hair covered in glass in the entryway, and you really want to rub your eyes with the squeaking sound effect like in the cartoons but the amount of microfibers that just got released into the air would suggest not doing that.

“Well well well” You realize you sound more like a supervillain than you intended and you freeze when she stands and sharply turns in your direction, gun pointed directly at you. You throw your hands up in surrender immediately. Goddamn supervillain catchphrases always making pretty girls turn their guns on you.

When she seems to recognize you she relaxes only for a man to jump through the already broken glass window and tackle her to the ground again. You want to help but considering you still haven't learned any more motorcycle tricks(or any tricks in general) you figure you would probably be useless.

You watch helplessly as she disarms and renders the guy unconscious in a matter of seconds and then stands and dusts herself off. The guy on the ground looks like some old-timey variation of Hitler and you're pretty glad she knocked him unconscious before he could even notice you.

You focus back on Nat who's looking at you like a wounded animal that could run away at any moment and It’s then that you realize that most people are not quite used to these kinds of situations. Clearly, you weren’t like most people. You point to the body in a trenchcoat on the ground as you crinkle your nose

“Are you taking that guy with you when you leave?” She huffs out a laugh and you feel yourself smile at successfully getting her to laugh again.

You, one.

Hitlerman, zero.

At least you were winning one game. Stupid Candy Crush.

She looks around the shabby pizza place and then zones in on your nametag, only them seeming to realize you worked there. She tilts her head, nodding to your flimsy little name pinned to your T-shirt.

“Why are you working here? Where’s the bike?” You sigh, you knew the question was coming but it’s still a sore subject for you. You internally punch a wall but on the outside, you frown just a little. It’s the saddest expression Nat’s seen on your face so far.

“She’s in the shop. Repairs are taking longer than I thought and now I’m forced to conform to my least favorite type of work just to get her back” Nat gives an understanding nod and then cringes a little, walking towards you until she’s right in front of you. She places a hand on your head and you inhale sharply.

A small frown forms on Nat’s face “You’re bleeding”

The feeling of her hand on your face confirms that she’s not an angel or a figment of your imagination and you don’t realize you’ve voiced that thought out loud until you hear Nat barking out a laugh.

“I’m flattered but, well-” She glances up, then behind her, then back towards you “I wouldn’t be so sure just yet” She smirks and removes her hand just as a ceiling panel falls from the roof. Dust flies into the air and you cover your face to avoid getting more shit in your eyes.

When the room finally settles Natasha is nowhere in sight but there’s a Captain America band-aid on the serving counter and you feel a small smile across your face. What a dramatic exit. Now who was the supervillain?

You take great notice of the fact that Hitlerman is also gone and you wonder how the fuck she managed to do that. But more importantly, you hoped this wasn’t coming out of your paycheck.

~~~

You can’t emphasize enough to most people how much you’re not even trying to be in the situations you get caught in. In fact, the one time you stayed home for a week you ended up catching the Flu. How the hell do you catch the flu from staying home? After that, you just accepted that you were a magnet for misfortune and there was nothing you could do about it.

Although, after meeting Nat you found yourself a little excited anytime something misfortunate happened and that was probably psychotic and you should definitely check yourself into a psych ward but you’d probably end up choking on a crayon and getting deemed a risk to those around you so what was the use?

Still, of all the robberies you’d been a witness to you’d never been a part of a hostage situation. Until now. Stupid Banks!

Usually, you’d assume that the police would handle a situation like this and you’d be stuck in this bank for hours until someone grew a dick and negotiated something but this time circumstances were a little different. To start, the guy who was currently robbing the bank was holding some type of gun that was the equivalent of real-life freeze tag.

Anyone who got zapped by the oddly blue glowing gun was frozen in place, which led you to problem number two.

The police had shown up nearly half an hour ago and someone must not have briefed them on this wacko holding you hostage because the second one of them snuck in the back door with a gun he was frozen in place looking like the idiot that he probably was.

You would attempt to grab his gun but you didn’t feel like doing that shit. Who were you to risk your life and try to be a hero for some money that this poor fellow probably needed considering New York's rent cost.

Maybe if the stupid fucker hadn’t frozen the one lady who knew the code to the very comically large bank safe he wouldn’t be stuck making stupid negotiations and holding people hostage.

Instead, you settled against a wall near a bunch of crying civilians and attempted once again to beat level 10 of Candy Crush. You give up after ten minutes and delete the app. Really you were just trying to kill the time until you-know-who showed up.

She and her band of merry men had grown a reputation for taking care of situations that the regular authorities couldn’t and that’s why you weren’t the least bit surprised when the room began to fill with a cloudy white smoke.

Others began panicking, fearing that it was some sort of poisonous gas and you rolled your eyes. This was not poisonous gas, you’d seen poisonous gas and this was not it.

This was a very dramatic entrance formulated by your absolute favorite redhead. God, you felt like you were in a spy movie. Any second now you’d see a faint figure slowly descending from the ceiling in all black with a gas mask on and spy music would start playing.

Any second now.

Aaaaaany second now-

A scream from beside you makes you jolt and you find the sobbing woman next to you with a hand over her mouth. A gruff-looking man is telling her to keep quiet and your eyes widen for a second as you think ‘Oh shit. Double robbery.’ But from behind the gruff-looking man walks a familiar figure and she pats him on the shoulder as she passes him.

You squint your eyes, what an oddly metal-looking shoulder. Perhaps you were hallucinating. Stress and all that.

By this point, enough white smoke has filled the room that the bank robber is wildly swinging around in fear as he squints to see. He’s probably more on edge after that woman's scream as well. Yeeeeah more of a horror movie than a spy movie now.

The reason you can see everyone so well is due to your superior eyesight and definitely not the science lab goggles that you had in your bag for no suspicious reasons. Hey, you had to be prepared for literally anything considering your luck.

Nat’s wearing some kind of night vision-looking goggles and a mask and when she passes you you poke her leg. She jumps a little, glaring at you until she seems to recognize you despite your flawless Lab Scientist disguise and her eyes widen. Her eyes seem to scream ‘What are you doing here’ but you feel it’s too obvious of a question to bother answering.

Instead, you give her the biggest smile you can muster and a friendly wave, mouthing “Hiiii Nat!”

She rolls her eyes but you can see the smile she’s hiding under her mask and you mentally fist pump. Three for three.

You point to the man wielding the gun and mouth to her “Go! Team go!”

She shakes her head, exasperated by your lack of fear and self-preservation but holds her finger up to her mouth telling you to be silent as she turns to sneak up on the man.

Your body does so love disobeying orders though, so it chooses that moment to sneeze, which has the man pointing the gun in your direction (not that he can see as his eyes are practically watering now) and Nat turns to you with a glare.

You raise your hands up in surrender and in an attempt to help, you throw the nearest object on the floor across the room. Oh, that was your phone- well, okay. Either way, it helps, the man swings back in that direction, blasting his gun in the air and Nat takes the moment to attack him from behind.

She disarms him easily, taking him to the ground and placing him in handcuffs. She inspects the device carefully, flipping a switch and aiming it at the closest frozen person. With a bolt of light, they unfreeze and gasp for breath. Good, at least the idiot had created some sort of Ctrl-Shift Undo button.

You're part of the first few escorted out of the building considering you weren’t frozen or in hysterics and the paramedics look at you a little funny but wrap a shock blanket around your shoulders.

Yes, shock. That's what you were experiencing. Normal people things. You twist back and forth and watch the shock blanket sway as you wait for Nat to be done with her serious business. God, serious business was boring and took forever.

When she finally emerges from the building she ignores the press and police that come up to talk to her and heads straight for you. Ha! Eat shit losers.

She doesn’t bother with formalities, why would she? It's you. Instead, she hands you a small black box as she takes in the shock blanket you’ve tied around your neck to look like a cape.

“Here’s your phone” You take the object from her hands and inspect it.

Oh wow, No cracks, that's great. Wait- “This is not my phone” You turn it over and inspect the Stark logo on the back of it. Yeeeeah definitely not yours.

“No, it’s not” She doesn't bother lying to you at least, and you hum in acknowledgment. Well, you weren’t one to pass up a free upgrade. You pocket the phone and stick your hands in your front pockets, flashing her a smile

“So… you come around here often?” She rolls her eyes at your stupid attempt at a joke. Or flirting. Either one works.

“How do you keep ending up in these situations?”

It’s your turn to smirk “Maybe it’s just an excuse to see you?”

She gives you a look that says ‘It better not be’ and you just shrug, your shock blanket falling to the ground. Fucker. Making you look uncool. You refuse to bend down and pick it up. Recovery blankets were for losers anyway.

Still, she smiles at you anyway and crosses her arms “I’m beginning to think the only way to keep you safe is to keep you with me”

Your heart leaps but you pretend to be nonchalant. You're only blushing because of shock or whatever. Play it cool “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea” A stupid smile forces its way onto your face despite your best attempts to repress it and Nat laughs at your stubbornness.

“But first I think we’ve got to teach you some self-defense” She nods her head indicating for you to follow her and you both begin walking in step to an unmarked black car.

Kidnapper car.

Cameras are flashing around you and you think about how cool you’ll look with Lab goggles atop your head and white smoke in your hair on the news tomorrow morning. The media was going to love you.

Turning to Nat on your way to the car, you have a question that’s been itching at you that you feel the need to ask

“Do you think your sugar daddy can help me fix my bike?”

She punches you in the arm.

A/n: This was initially a writing exercise to write the silliest short story I could think of, but I thought it was cute so I decided to post it~ Starry

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blackhillverse · 10 months

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the last thing maria remembered was looking into nick’s eyes, his hands covered in her blood never letting go of maria’s numb limbs.

she let go.

the darkness gradually released its grip, giving way to a sense of serenity and comfort she had longed for since the day she was resurrected from the blip and realized a profound void had been left in her heart, torn apart by the events that had unfolded.

as her senses gradually returned, she could hear the melodic chirping of birds in the distance, their songs harmonizing with the gentle rustling of leaves. the warm rays of the sun caressed her face, casting a gentle glow upon her skin, while a salty breeze swept through the air, carrying with it a touch of the ocean's essence. as maria’s eyelids fluttered open, the world around her came into focus. colors seemed more vibrant, and the scenery unfolded before her like a painting brought to life. she found herself lying in a tranquil meadow, the grass beneath her fingertips cool and soft.

with each breath she took, the air felt invigorating, filling her lungs with a renewed sense of vitality. as she sat up, her muscles responded with a pleasant ache, reminding her of the physicality of existence. taking in the panoramic view, maria noticed a majestic mountain range in the distance, its peaks kissed by wisps of clouds. the sound of a nearby stream reached her ears, its gentle babbling adding a soothing rhythm to the symphony of nature that surrounded her.

"hey sleepyhead," came a voice from behind maria, causing her heart to skip a beat. she turned slowly, her eyes widening with astonishment as she laid eyes upon the figure standing before her. natasha's red hair gently streamed in the wind, just as radiant and vibrant as she remembered.

their gazes locked, and in that silent exchange, a myriad of unspoken words passed between them. it was as if time stood still, allowing them to savor the moment and relish in the presence of one another. no grand declarations were necessary; their connection spoke volumes in its simplicity.

"you've done so well, masha," a tender smile played upon natasha's lips as she spoke. her voice was just like she remembered—warm, velvety, and filled with a depth of emotion that resonated deep within maria's soul.

without needing to say another word, maria and natasha stepped towards one another, their embrace a testament to their enduring connection. it was a reunion that mended the fragments of their souls, rekindling a flame that had flickered but never extinguished.

as the meadow whispered its gentle secrets, the world around them faded into insignificance.

in the quiet intimacy of their reunion, maria knew that they were exactly where they were meant to be. and as their hearts beat in synchrony, they both found solace in the knowledge that their journey, though filled with pain and sacrifice, had led them to this moment of profound serenity and unspoken love.

maria hill was finally home.

#secret invastion spoilers #im a mess #and so i had to write this little nonsense #dont talk to me #dont touch me #i just want to rest #maria hill #natasha romanoff #blackhill #reunion #oneshot #fanfic #secret invasion #marvel #mcu

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romamoff · 2 months

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Love is for children.

It's out! Check my page heheh

"Peace. The assassin didn’t quite expect to feel peace in this situation. Yet she felt calmness and warmth spread through her whole being, filling every fiber of her body and every piece of her soul and mind. Where once were racing cruel thoughts, now settled silence."

~ A wanda x natasha oneshot coming tonight 👀 Still very nervous cause it's my first fic! Please be patient with me! ~

#marvel fanfiction #marvel #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #natasha x wanda #wanda x natasha #wandanat #scarlet widow #black widow #scarlet witch #fanfic writing #fanfic #fanfiction #new writers on tumblr #oneshot #sapphic #new fic #new fanfic #angst

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 1 year

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More Than An Intern (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) *PARENTAL

Characters: Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: Mention of drug addiction, child abandonment

Request: Imagine: Tony has a daughter in a one night stand when he's 21. He doesn't know of the kid's existence. Mom has post-partum depression, struggles financially, becomes an addict and sells the baby to random guy (he works for Hydra and knows that the kid is Tony's-It's an extension of Project Insight and they wanna train people with brilliant ppl DNA). Around Ironman 1 and 2, she gets inside Stark Industries as an intelligent intern and Natasha catches her spying and the rest is left to you. 😊

The silence in the stairway where you were sat against the wall between floors was deafening, so quiet that you were certain that if someone was to step into it they’d hear your heartbeat from the top floor. You could definitely hear it, so loud that it was like standing beside a speaker at a concert, but you tried to act calm and collected like any other day, hunched over your phone, a half eaten sandwich in hand, like you did every other day in this internship that you had been working for the past 3 months.

Nothing to raise suspicion. Nothing to make anyone think you were up to anything. Nothing to make anyone think you’re a spy.

You weren’t entirely sure why you were so nervous about this. You’d done similar things before in the past despite your age, but this was a much larger project for you. You were stealing weapon blueprints and plans from one of the greatest minds and also in one of the most secure buildings you’d ever seen. Normally you would be able to do a simple sneak in and out within an hour, but you quickly realised that this would be a case of sneaking in, hiding in plain sight, not raising suspicion, gaining their trust, gathering the intel, and then sticking around a while afterwards instead of booking it to maintain that trust and also to get them off your scent and tie up any loose ends if needs be. You couldn’t mess this up. They’d kill you.

After finishing your sandwich, you checked the clock on your phone, having memorised the routine of those who use the lab just down those stairs, and knew it would be empty now. You packed your things up, before heading down the steps, going through the door at the end and into the hallway. You tried not to look around too much, instead heading straight to the lab door, going on your phone, and after clicking a few buttons you glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room, seeing it power down, before you walked to the door, finding it unlocked and letting yourself in. You wasted no time in searching the space quickly for anything important, not wanting to focus your time on something and as your leaving realise you’d missed something even more valuable. You spotted Tony’s desk as well as some of his suits in the corner in the midsts of construction and repairs. Seeing no cabinets, you walked over to the desk looking over everything on the table- papers, blueprints, and the interface instead of computer. Unfortunately for you, you knew that to get in you’d have to temporarily disengage JARVIS to get inside unnoticed, so that was down, so you were relying on the physical copies, which luckily it seemed that Tony had out- usually to show to the ‘old people’ like Mr Rogers and the God who you kept away from. You looked over the papers, not moving any of them, just looking for anything of importance. You saw design ideas for his suits, suits that didn’t exist yet, designs for their unique abilities- notably weapons that fit in your hand. Bingo.

“What’cha doing?” The voice made you jump a little, eyes shooting up to the door of the lab, seeing a familiar red head leant against it with a smirk, arms crossed. You of course knew who she was- Natasha Romanoff, one of the most deadly assassins in the word, and she just caught you somewhere where you didn’t have clearance.

“Oh- I’m so sorry- I was looking for Mr Stark. My clearance pass keeps messing up and my supervisor didn’t know how to fix it so I hoped he’d be able to…” You switched to the personality you’d perfected the last 3 months, a shy, anxious, fly on the wall girl fresh out of college, eager to learn and a goody-two-shoes… okay some of those traits might have already been yours, but it just selled the character. “And now I’m saying it aloud I realise that’s… stupid. Sorry. I’ll go.” You tried to excuse, but as you went to rush out embarrassed, she stepped in front of you, making you halt. She glared down at you, and you shrunk into yourself. “I’m really sorry, I won’t come in here again, I promise.” She raised an eyebrow at you, before grabbing your arm, pulling it out, showing her your phone, and she plucked it from your hand. She removed the case off the back, turning it over, showing the small chip on the back- a small tracking device that also sent all info on the phone to another location. HYDRA. You were anxious before, but the second her eyes landed on the chip, it vanished. You’d failed your mission, and now it was a lose- lose situation, all options probably ending in you tortured or dead, or both. Now, you were terrified.

Her eyes came back up to meet yours, and it felt like she was reading you like a book, dissecting you piece by piece. She knew your name was fake, your background fake, your credentials fake.The person she’d seen around the tower didn’t exist, and now she was piecing together who you really were. A Hydra agent. A young one at that- she thought you looked a bit young for 23, but clearly had at least some decent skills to have snuck under her nose and get past Tony’s security checks for months. “Are you going to co-operate?” She inquired.

“I don’t have a choice.” You huffed, dropping the act. The red head grabbed your arm, leading you out of the lab and to the elevator, taking you up to the floor where the meeting rooms were (why Tony needed more than one you never knew), shoving you into one of them, sitting you down in one of the chairs. “JARVIS?” She called, hoping that the AI would still be working here.

“How may I be of assistance Miss Romanoff? I am aware that I seem to have lost connection to Mr Stark’s lab-”

“I’m also aware of that. Please let Mr Stark know immediately that I’ve caught an undercover agent in his lab- that was why you’ve been locked out.” Natasha interrupted the AI, not wanting to waste any time. “I’m keeping her in one of the meeting rooms.”

“Of course Miss Romanoff.” The AI responded. You slumped into your seat, chin resting on your chest as you kept your eyes on Natasha who guarded the door to ensure you didn’t make a run for it, and it wasn’t long till you could see Tony Stark through the glass walls of the room, and he looked back at you as he came into the room.

“So, who’s this little troublemaker, Romanoff?” Tony asked her as she shut the door behind him and locked the door.

“Undercover agent, probably HYDRA, it’s their usual style, though I think this one has been here a while… JARVIS?” Natasha called again.

“Our files say she’s been working here for 3 months. I’ve done a deeper background check on her files and it seems she does not exist, and is using a fake identity.” JARVIS answered. Your eyes were kept on Natasha after Tony entered the room- she was the deadly one, one of the main ones they had warned you about, and your eyes were focussed on her so closely you didn’t spot Tony stalking closer till he stepped in front of you, blocking your line of sight on the woman, and squatting down in front of you. In that moment, your fear of Natasha seemed to diminish as Tony looked at you like a disapproving parent or something. You felt almost ashamed. Almost.

“What’s your name? Your real name?” He asked you. You paused, not answering him. “Don’t make this difficult. If you cooperate then we-”

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked, interrupting him. Your question seemed to catch him off guard as he straightened his posture a little, blinking a bit.

“No. Of course not.” He spoke confidently, but also bewildered, which gave you some comfort that he was probably telling you the truth. “Is that what they told you? That if you failed this mission they put you on you’d be killed by us?”

“Or them… You caught me, if they find out they’ll kill me.” You spoke lowly and oddly calmly despite how terrifying that thought was.

“Were you in the Red Room?” Natasha inquired to you. It was something she remembered being told when she went on missions before she graduated, a way to control her and the others, and it seemed to line up with your age, but you shook your head. “How long have you worked for HYDRA?” She asked instead, and she caught you swallowing in response.

“Better question, how old are you?” Tony asked. “I’m not sure if you have a baby face or if you’re actually a child.”

“I’m not a kid.” You huffed.

“That’s something a kid would say. More specifically a teen.” He responded. “Especially a teen who’s close to no longer being one and wants to be seen as an adult. 16? 17?” He questioned, and when your eyes averted at the second guess, he knew he hit the jackpot. He knew from his own guessing that you were a kid, but to actually confirm it seemed to light something inside of him, a sort of despair and fury. You were a kid, a kid with training that would have taken years, and the brainwashing they’d ingrained in you to make you think they’d kill you is something they’d have to have put into your head at a young age. So young you knew nothing of the outside world. “Do you know anything other than HYDRA? Parents? Siblings?” He asked far more softly, tilting his head a little.

“...I had a mom. She gave me to them.” You answered him in barely a whisper.

“How old were you when she did that?” He asked, getting a shrug in response. “So young. Really young, probably younger than 4, maybe a baby or a toddler?” He asked, and you nodded. Your sudden willingness to respond to his questions didn’t go unnoticed, and Tony knew he had unlocked a way to get you to open up- softness and kindness, something you probably hadn’t seen… ever. “Do you know what her name was? Or what she called you?” He asked.

“I don’t know her name, but HYDRA called me Y/N, so I think that’s my name.” You answered him.

“Alright. I really want to find out more about you so I can help you, okay? Would you be okay if we get Dr Banner here so he can get a few swabs and maybe some blood to try and find out more about you? Who knows, maybe you have some siblings or some grandparents wondering where their granddaughter is and we can give you a fake name and you can start afresh, alright?” He suggested to you, and when he didn’t get a disagreement, he turned to Natasha, standing up. “Let’s up security to ensure she’s safe.”

The next couple of hours were admittedly quite boring. You were placed into a holding cell, searched for other weapons or technology, Dr Banner came, took some swabs from your mouth and some blood, and Natasha quizzed you about your entire time under HYDRA, what you had worked on prior, names you remembered and the sort of thing they put you through. Admittedly, you weren’t very talkative with her- she was quite stern and cold with you, and you were expecting that as soon as she got her answers she’d just put a bullet between your eyes, which was why you purposely kept some of your own information from her. Inevitably she gave up and left you be, and after another half an hour of boredom, you tried to get comfy, eventually finding yourself resting your head on the cold table in front of you, and closing your eyes, drifting uncomfortably between sleep and enough conscious to know when someone was walking by your cell, and it was enough to know when the door opened. Your eyes opened, your head already turned to see the door, letting you see it was Tony stepping in, stopping when he saw your eyes on him, before he shut the door behind him and moved to sit down as well, and only then you raised your head to look at him. You noted the slip of paper in front of him, which was odd since he usually liked to keep things digitalised, though he took one glance at it before placing it face down so you couldn’t read it.

“Did you find anything?” You asked him, his eyes looking up to meet yours, and you immediately knew from the emotions swimming in them, he had. There was a heavy feeling of guilt emitting from him, weighing his eyes down and making it hard for him to meet yours, and you knew it wasn’t good news. “If it makes you feel any better, I have no memories of my life before HYDRA, so I have no emotional ties. I’m not gonna cry.” You tried to assure him, mostly hoping he’d just spit it out. He cleared his throat finally, leaning on the table, resting his arms on the piece of paper.

“You had a mother.” He started, and your mind immediately noted the past tense.

“Dead?”

“Complications due to drug use. A few years ago.” He confirmed. “She formed the addiction a few weeks or months after your birth- I got records of your birth, they gave her a blood test then and she was clean and healthy. It was probably Postpartum Depression that led her there, and after your birth there’s no trace of you, so you weren’t taken by social services, or reported missing…”

“So she handed me over to them? Is that what you’ve established?” You inquired, sticking to your word and not showing emotion, remaining calm and collected and cold, and Tony nodded, his eyes dropping again, the guilt he was emitting seeming to only weigh heavier.

“I knew her… your mom.” He admitted after a pause, still not looking up. “Before she had you, before she… I knew her when we were in university together. She was studying something else in a different building, I don’t remember what, I never really got to know her despite the fact that…” He seemed to catch himself before he said anything, shuffling in his seat, and his nervousness was starting to rub off on you as you shuffled in your own seat, crossing your arms against your chest, not sure what he was getting at. Did HYDRA know he knew your mother? If so, why did they send you to do this mission? Why does that matter?

“How is this relevant?” You asked him blankly.

“We were…” He seemed to stumble over his words, before he rethought the, and spoke again. “We were able to track down a paternal line as well, and that proved that you’re… mine.” He confirmed, and it was like there was a flick of a switch, and you felt the change both in the room and in your body. Ah. That was why he was so anxious all of a sudden. His eyes stayed on you, but remained quiet, waiting for a reaction, though you weren’t giving him much. Your expression barely changed, with no signs of shock or joy or sadness or anything, other than confusion, judging by your eyebrows coming closer together.

“That doesn’t make sense. Why would HYDRA send me to do a mission involving you if they knew we were father and daughter?” You asked him.

“I don’t think they knew. We don’t know what kind of detail your mom gave about your background before handing you to them, or if she even knew I was your father to begin with. But that doesn’t matter right now- what matters now is that you’re here, you’re safe, and you’re my top priority right now. I need to keep you hidden to the best of my ability until we can even convince HYDRA it’s a lost cause to go after you, or think you’re dead.”

“So, a safe house?”

“Exactly. I’ve got this little cabin on the edge of a lake that surrounded by woodland, little to no internet connection, it’s practically hidden from a birds eye view. I’ll up security there, but I’ll have it excused by me also being there as a sort of getaway with me and Pepper. That’ll also let us get to properly know each other, see where we stand, what you’re comfortable with and how involved you’d like me to be. If at the end of the time there you decide you want to go and do your own thing I understand, I’ll support you with whatever you want to do. If you want to go live in a tiny town in Wyoming then I’ll find you a nice place there and I’ll just want to keep tabs on you to ensure you’re safe. If you want to make up for lost time, go to college and live with us until you’re ready to go, then I’m happy with that.” He explained, almost rambling in nature, but it brought a faint smile, but a smile none the less to your face.

“Thank you.” You interrupted him, making him stop, and relax a little and smile back.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby-blog @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

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beyondspaceandstars · 2 years

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“Kiss me, i’m miserable.”

Relationship: Natasha Romanoff x Reader Warnings: N/A Drabble Summary: Natasha rarely shows weakness around you… but some days are just rough. Word Count: 495

Masterlist

Natasha pretty much never let you see her having a bad day. You didn’t know how she did it, given the intensity of her work and everything. You knew if you were in her place, the stress would be practically emitting off you. But not Natasha. She had, for as long as you two have been together, kept the weight of her day job out of your life.

That was, well, until one particularly hard day. She never explained what had exactly been her breaking point but you didn’t think you actually wanted to know.

Natasha had come home late that night which wasn’t actually too out of the ordinary. You were used to her wandering into your shared apartment in the dead of night but there was something different about it this time.

It was around 2 AM when you felt the bed dip beside you, signaling Natasha’s arrival. Almost immediately, before she even had a chance to get herself comfy, an arm was locked around your waist, pulling you into her side. The motion was so sudden it forced you awake.

You shifted into your girlfriend’s hold and brought a free hand to intertwine with hers. That’s when you felt something unusual: she was still wearing her uniform. You couldn’t remember a time Natasha kept her uniform on for more than five minutes after returning home.

Concerned, you muttered, "Nat, is everything alright?"

"Y-Yeah," she responded in a cracked whisper. Your heart sank. Carefully, you twisted in her grip until your faces were just inches apart. That’s when you finally saw her, really saw her and all her features. From her matted-down hair to her bruised face and stained uniform.

"What’s wrong, babe?" You asked softly, unsure of how to navigate this territory. It was new for you both which probably shouldn’t have been the case. You were suddenly kicking yourself for not getting her to open up more often.

Natasha was quick and short to respond. "Nothing," she said, her eyes heavily focused on anywhere but you.

"You’re still in your suit," you commented as you traced the borderline plastic material carefully. It was dirty and stiff.

"Didn’t feel like taking it off." Natasha paused. "Too tired."

You frowned. "Nat, do you…do you want to talk about it? Whatever it is?"

"No," she replied, a bit of bite in her tone. Natasha shook her head slowly. "Sorry, but, no. No, thank you, sweetheart."

"Well," you sighed, "is there anything I can do?"

"Let me hold you," Natasha whispered. "And kiss me, I’m miserable."

The admission weighed on your heart but you didn’t press. Gently, you placed a kiss on your girlfriend’s forehead. She sighed contently, which only eased your worries slightly.

Wordlessly, Natasha pulled you in tighter, her hand tracing patterns up and down your back. You didn’t say a peep, just tried to give your girlfriend some comfort from whatever hellish day she had had, hoping all would settle with time.

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nyxlaufeyson · 10 months

Text

No Complaints

Loki Oneshot Masterlist - Main Masterlist

POV: Third

Ship: Fem!Loki x Natasha (Could be read as platonic if you wanted)

Type: Fluff!

Wordcount: 726

TW: None

Synopsis: Loki is stressed, so Natasha does her nails.

A/N: This one takes up the Blackfrost block of my Pride Month special! This ship is def underrated. (Again, could be read as an romantic OR platonic).

To leave a request, feel free to comment anywhere or inbox me.

This fic was partially inspired by this art piece by @murdermuffinloki

Natasha sat on her bed, lying out some of her nail polishes. She grabbed a nail file to work on her nails, when she heard a knock at the door.

“Come in.” She called out, and the door opened and closed, revealing Loki. Natasha scooted over and patted the spot next to her on the bed, prompting Loki to sit next to her. “What’s up?”

“Just… stressed.” Loki sighed, lying her head down on Natasha’s lap. Natasha smiled and set the nail file down, ruffling Loki’s hair with her hand.

“Is there anything you’re stressed about in particular?” Natasha questioned, and Loki shook her head.

“Not really. I just feel stressed in general.” Loki said, and Natasha nodded in understanding.

“I know what you mean.” She said, locking one of Loki’s hands with her own. “I have an idea. I was just getting ready to do my nails, how about we do yours as well?”

Loki smiled and sat upright. “I guess that would work.” She said, and Natasha picked up a nail file and began to work on Loki’s nails.

“That tickles!” Loki said, laughing, and Natasha rolled her eyes. “Well keep your freaking hand still!”

Loki huffed and did her best to steady her hand, while Natasha continued to file down on the nails.

After finishing with the file, she grabbed a little tool and began to get the dirt out of Loki’s fingernails and used it to push back her cuticles.

When Natasha finished with the tool, she set it down and grabbed some of the polishes. “What color do you want?”

Loki smirked at her. “Is that really a question?” She asked, and Natasha picked out the black polish. “What a surprising choice.”

Natasha coated Loki’s nails with a base coat first, and Loki watched her work quietly. The distinct scent of the nail polish began to spread throughout the room, causing Loki to scrunch her nose.

“Yeah, I hate that smell too.” Natasha said, finishing up with the base coat and grabbing the black polish. “JARVIS, can you open the window?”

“Of course, Miss Romanoff.” JARVIS replied, and the window to their left opened. “Thanks.” Natasha said, focusing on applying the nail polish.

Loki smiled as she watched Natasha carefully paint her nails. “You’re staring.” Natasha pointed out, and Loki shrugged.

“I can’t help it, you’re just so pretty.” She said, smiling, and Natasha playfully slapped her. “Hey!” Loki yelped, faking offense.

“Sush.” Natasha chastised, finishing up with the polish and blowing on them. She then grabbed a final protective coat and began to apply it on top of the black.

“I will never understand how you get your lines so clean. Whenever I do it, I have to use a ton of nail polish remover to clean up the excess.” Loki whined, and Natasha shrugged.

“Practice, I guess.” Natasha said, putting up the polishes and going to her vanity, where she began to rummage around for something. “Now where is that stupid-” She grumbled, tossing a few things to the side. “-Ah-ha! There it is.”

Natasha plugged in her UV lamp to the outlet, motioning for Loki to sit down on one of the chairs she had slid over to the vanity. She had Loki prop her hands under the lamp to allow for the polish to dry faster.

“Now I’m going to go do mine.” Natasha stated, but Loki stopped her. “Wait for mine to dry.” Loki said, and Natasha arched her eyebrow.

“Why?” She questioned, and Loki gave her a cheeky smile. “So I can do them!” Loki proposed, and Natasha huffed.

“Do we really want to make a huge mess right now?” She asked, and Loki gave Natasha her best over-exaggerated puppy dog eyes.

“Fineeee.” Natasha said, sitting back down near the vanity and twirling her braid. “But we are definitely not letting you paint them on the bed.”

Loki rolled her eyes, smirking. “But last time it went so well!” She protested, and Natasha gave her a look.

“Sure, if you call making the bed look like I just woke up on my period ‘going well.’ You ruined the entire bedspread.” Natasha reminded Loki, who smiled with an innocent shrug.

“Hey, I did them for free! No complaints!” She said, wiggling her eyebrows.

Natasha laughed, pulling Loki’s hair back to braid it. “Alright, alright, no complaints.”

Tag list (Sorry if you guys don't want to be tagged for the Pride stuff, please just lmk and I can remove you for the non- xreader pride stuff. Lmk if you want to be added/removed!!!): @anukulee @mischief-dream @iceeericeee

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elenarodriiguez · 2 years

Text

day twenty four: startle | s.c. & n.r.

pairing: natasha romanoff x sharon carter

word count: 203

The Red Room has no space for weakness. It’s a sentiment instilled into Natasha from the day her and Yelena are dragged back in from their stint undercover in Ohio, and one she carries with her long after the organisation has been dismantled.

She doesn’t startle, her hands don’t shake, she is calm, placid, the living embodiment of neutrality. It was never a bad thing in her mind until she met Sharon, why would it be a bad thing when your universe revolves around espionage and missions and little else?

Sharon isn’t like her, she startles when Tony sneaks up on his “favourite little cousin”, as he loves to tease her, and when Natasha slides her icy fingertips under her shirt. Never once have her hands shook when in the heat of the moment, when life and death are contending in a neck and neck battle, but when Natasha proposes to her, she struggles to get the ring on her finger thanks to the trembling digits.

There is not a single universe where Sharon is neither calm nor placid nor the living embodiment of neutrality, and Natasha wishes that the same can be said for her in at least one of those universes.

#daisy writes #sevensentenceficjuly #marvel #sharonnat #sharon carter #natasha romanoff #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot

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unholyhelbig · 3 months

Note

request: oversight au, nat and reader run into reader’s ex or ronnie’s father who was abusive to them… how will mob nat react?

Title: Old Flames [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: When reader has an unexpected run-in with an old flame and things go less than well, Natasha takes things into her own hands.

Warnings(PLEASE READ): Talks of past domestic abuse, talks of abortion, buried alive references, broken glass, blood (always), Heights, threatening statements, non-consensual kiss, horrible grammar (aways).

[a/n: Okay, I had way too much fun with this. While I loved writing the main story, it's also super great to branch out into some more dynamics with Mob Boss Nat, because I haven't made her mean enough yet.]

Check out the full Oversight universe

The apartment building on the corner of twelfth and Hawke was a large midcentury brick building that structure that stretched to the sky. A metal fire escape latticed up the side and stretched clotheslines dripping with shirts and pants connected it to the adjacent building that had long since been used for storage.

Up until this point, you had avoided this building. Luckily, the tenants were quite timely with their rent and left little need for an enforcer to knock door to door. But it was right after the holidays and things were tough. That much, you understood. But it didn’t’ change the fact that three units were more than two months behind on their rent.

Them, you could appeal to with hot chocolate and some gentle urging. But according to Clint, there was a particularly nasty group of people living on the top floor that had gotten multiple noise complaints thrown their way.

The address hadn’t seemed familiar until you stood at the entrance and got a good look at the golden door that contrasted the rest of the structure. You’d written the code to the door on your palm, and you were having trouble differentiating the last number. It was a zero, or it was an eight.

“Gross, you’re sweaty.” Kate had pulled your hand a small distance from her scrutinizing stare, trying to read the smeared purple markings. “I knew we should have used the napkin.”

The woman dropped your hand and stepped up to the small box on the side of the entryway. She hit every button known to man until the fragile voice cracked through the speaker. “Yeah, uh-huh, pizza. I have pizza. Pepperoni-“Her ramblings were cut off by the loud buzz in.

You were treated to an innocent smile as she wrenched open the door and allowed you to follow her in. She was innovative, annoyingly so. Most of the time it worked in your favor but sometimes you found her testing your temper just to prove a point. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed your hesitation.

It was coming back to you now; the large entryway that was lined with lock and key mail slots and a bolstered wooden staircase that was scarcely used compared to the elevator. Natasha kept good care of the place, had repainted and made sure every single lightbulb was humming in synch.

Some would say that she improved the neighborhood, block by block. But there were still those who liked the way things used to be; living paycheck to paycheck with an angry and withering stare being sent your way with each collection call.

“I’ve got Miss Henderson.”

“Oh, come on.” You protested “She sounds so cool.”

Miss Henderson was an older woman who lived on the fifth floor. Most of the time, her rent was late because it had simply slipped her mind. One look at Kate and she’d write a check before offering some of the sweetest cookies you’d ever tasted, often sending her back with a plateful.

From what you had heard, she used to travel with a circus as an acrobatic performer. Her act was death-defying; a performance that relied on her partners quick bladework. The Swordsman and his Enchantress. There were illustrations of their travels hung up around her unit- ones that you would kill to see.

“Too bad, next time.” Kate mock pouted at you before clapping you on the back. “Don’t make too much of a mess up on the top floor, alright? I don’t want to scrub carpets today.”

She took the stairs two at a time and left you alone in the lobby. A cool blast of wind hit your back as a tenant walked in with their dalmatian, pink tongue lolling to the side as his owner checked the mail, barely sparing you a glance.

The type of New York residents that occupied this space had changed greatly. The last time you’d been here was a walk of shame that left your feet raw and bleeding. You’d rushed from the apartment with so much fever that you never returned for your shoes, or your dignity, for that matter.

This time, you had shoes on, ones that you had scrubbed free of blood until they looked presentable. They were leaden on the stairs up to the top floor. Once you reached the fifth, you could hear Kate’s distinctive laugh behind the oak door. At least she was close.

The top floor was nearly silent. You could hear a television, a hockey game that you’d been listening to sparingly on the way over here. It sounded like Toronto was pulling through. The sound of a beer cracking pulled you away from the muffled announcers words.

A radio was resting in an upper window. You and Kate had heard it from the street below, a French Pop station that you could barely make out the words of. French was never your strong suite, one language requirement in high school was enough for you.

Silently, you prayed, that it was a coincidence. That the radio didn’t’ belong to the very men that you were meant to speak to. They were flighty, you told yourself. They weren’t ones to stay and if they chose to stick around after all these years- well, you’d be impressed.

You knocked twice on the center door, the deep forest-green paint threatening to chip under the elements. The music stopped abruptly, and while you could hear that someone was whispering quietly in French, you couldn’t make out the words.

The man that opened the door was too familiar for your liking; his pale waxy skin, his deep brown eyes that were so dark they were almost black, the tattoos that were smattered in different designs against his throat, down his collarbone. Pockmarked on his arms. His hair was longer than you remembered, greasier and tied up in a bun.

He took you in for a singular moment, shock reflecting in his stare, but before he moved to shut the door. You stopped the action with one strong hand, putting your boot between the frame and the wood for extra measure. “Don’t be like that, Kazi.”

“All these years, and now you’re coming back for child support?”

He raked his eyes up and down your body in a way that made you feel violated. You held your stance. He seemed impressed by the bout of strength.

You tsked “if I wanted child support, I would have gone after it by now. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

He scratched under the sleeve of his tank-top, considering you the same way you considered him. Eventually, he seemed to figure he had nothing to lose pulling the door back and letting you enter the apartment. Waves of memory washed over you.

Kazi still had the same futon covered in the same ratty blanket. There was a kitchen table that was stacked with different folders that he would never, in a million years, let you view. A blue funnel was drying on the dishrack, and countless liquor bottles that had been emptied and cleaned were lined up, ready to be filled with the slightest bit of homebrewed alcohol.

He was still running the same scam after all of these years. You remembered liking the danger about him, the way his stubble felt against you when you straddled him. He’d been so alluring to a good girl like you. He would street race at night with another guy you’d met a handful of times, Robbie Reyes.

God, you had been so naive back then. He was drawn in by your innocence and you were entrapped by his experience. If only you knew where you’d end up in seven years; with Kazi’s biological daughter being raised by the most powerful woman in the city.

The moment you told him you were pregnant, he told you bluntly to get rid of it. That same night, he’d thrown an empty liquor bottle at you, just barely missing your head. You’d refused outright and accepted his anger in turn. Glass shards cut into the soles of your feet, and stained the snow all the way back to your dorm room.

The way he stared at you now infuriated you. “What do you want, then?”

“You’re two months late on rent.”

“I figured you’d keep tabs. Most women do. But my rent? That’s a new one.”

You picked up a small paperweight that you remember being fond of when you returned to this apartment after a first date where Kazi was a perfect gentleman. He’d bought dinner, and walked you back to his place. The glass object was tinted yellow, a small mosquito suspended in the center. He must have gotten it in a museum gift shop.

“Truthfully, I’m shocked you still live here.” You tested the weight of the object. “Most landlords aren’t very lenient about tardiness.”

“Yeah, well. She’s not very attentive. What can I say?”

Oh, but Natasha was quite attentive in more than one aspect, at that. You couldn’t’ help the smile that spread against your lips. Kazi was growing agitated with your presence, always quick to temper.

With all the strength you could muster, you threw the paperweight at the wall directly behind him. In its innate cheapness, it shattered into a million pieces, littering the carpet and slicing little bites into his skin. Kazi flinched and covered his face with his arms.

“Fuck! Y/n, what the hell!” He screamed.

“You have two weeks to backdate the rent, Kazi. Another week to get us this month’s amount. That sounds reasonable to me. Attentive, even.”

He reached into the back of his sweatpants and pulled out a silver Kimber, pumping the top chamber and aiming it at you with a shaky hand. He was too lax with his hold. A pinprick of crimson was dripping from a cut on his cheek.

“Come on, Kazi. It’s not the end of the world. I’m sure you can push some half-rate liquor. Sell a few of your gold fillings, and come up with the money my employer is required.”

“Employer? You work for that… monster?”

“Now, there’s a big word.” You closed the distance between the two of you, not giving him a moment to react before you wrenched the gun from his hand and threw it onto that ratty old blanket that adorned the futon he’d found on the side of the road. “So much horrible implication behind it too. You shouldn’t name call.”

Your boots crunched against the shattered glass. Kazi was barefoot, he flinched as flesh was dug into by uneven shards. You could smell the rancid coffee on his breath. He had a mole just on small of his nose.

“What happened to you?” he whispered, “Where’s that girl that stormed out of my apartment because she didn’t get her way?”

“A lot can change in seven years, Kaz.” You glanced around his apartment. “Well, most people change. Some people don’t go anywhere in life.”

Kazi pressed forward, his dry lips suddenly against yours. You froze in an instant, appalled by the acrid taste of cigarettes and stale morning coffee that he had no-doubt heated up in the microwave and drank black. The kiss was strong, rushed and painful in the way that his teeth knocked against yours.

It took less than a second for you to push him away. His head hit the cabinet behind it, rattling the glasses inside. Your hand was splayed out on his chest, nails digging into the stained tank-top he wore. He grinned wolfishly at you. Your teeth had dug so hard into his lip that it drew blood.

“I like this rough version of you, sweetheart. It’s hot.”

You reeled back and slapped him across the face with as much force as you could muster in your close proximity. The radio in the window seemed to flicker out of power at that moment, or maybe they had just run out of shitty pop music to play. Either way, the two of you were engulfed in silence.

“Shit, baby, hit me again!”

He had no idea how much you wanted to abide by that, though, you were quite positive that it would do nothing but spur on his arousal. This wasn’t going to work. If he kept pushing the way he was, you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from pulling your own weapon.

It suddenly became too much, standing in the middle of this time-capsule of an apartment. The memories were too strong. When the two of you were together, everything you did was for his benefit. And while this had been fun at first, testing him like this, it was too much.

You grabbed the collar of his sweat-soiled shirt, wrapping it around your fingers with enough force to tear the fabric away. “Two weeks, you fucking asshole. If you don’t have the money by then, I’m sure the city will have a fun time scrubbing your brain matter from the sidewalk.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He sneered.

You pressed your booted foot down on the top of his, listening as the glass dug deeper into the soft skin. This time, he did cry out in pain, the grinding of pieces close to bone making his eyes water. You placed your hand over his mouth, muffling his protest. “I will make your miserable existence a living hell, with or without the money, for what you did to me. Do you understand?”

“You’re so full of shit-“ you pressed your full weight down and you squirmed under your hold. “Yes! Yes, I get it. Fuck!”

You pulled yourself away from Kazi entirely, straightening his shirt. He was slumped against the counter, staring at you with pure rage in his eyes. He shifted his full weight to his other foot, grimacing at the edged stain on the wooden floor.

“You should really clean that up.” You gritted, mouth still tasting of stale smoke. “Glass can be dangerous, Kazimirez.”

By the time you got to the car the only thing on your mind was taking the hottestshower possible. You’d pawed through Kate’s glovebox rather frantically and counted it a small blessing that that there was a single unwrapped piece of gum at the very bottom.

She cringed as you popped it in your mouth and let the minty dusty taste coat your tongue. If you could, without raising suspicion, you would have dumped solvent on it, just to take the taste of Kazi out of your mouth.

“I don’t know how long that’s been in there.” Kate said, watching you warily as you picked up her water bottle and downed half of that too. It seemed to take the rest of the rancid flavor away.

“I don’t care”

“You should care, I bought this car used.” She frowned, tapping her fingers against the wheel. “Okay, I didn’t’ buy it. I bought the license plates though, that’s my civic duty.”

Her words were enough for you to roll your window down and toss the gum from it. Despite your profession, you weren’t a very good liar. Not when it came to Natasha. She’d ask you about your day like usual and you’d crumble under her seemingly innocent gaze.

Nothing Natasha did was innocent.

“What happened up there?” Kate asked.

The two of you were well out of the city by now, and still had about a half-hour until you got to the mansion. The family liked their privacy, and after a year of living there permanently, so did you.

When you didn’t answer right away, she kept going. “Because I got cookies. Nearly choked on one when Miss Henderson insisted on a private show. It’s seriously a wonder that a woman her age can still bend like that.”

“Katie,” You warned, “Gross.”

“Impressive actually. She kept her clothes on, which I am eternally grateful for. It looks like you had a more eventful visit with the French dudes upstairs.” She scoffed, “Who the fuck is French anymore?”

You rolled your eyes and slumped further into your seat. Kazi was French. You used to crumble when he gave you the choppiest lines that he could remember. According to him, the language is harder to speak than it is to read and write. You never questioned him, just like you didn’t question a lot of things.

“I have a… history with the man who rents 807.”

“A history, or a… history?”

“The first one. The second one. Shit- I don’t know, both! He’s Ronnie’s dad.”

Kate slammed on the brakes with enough force for a layer of rubber to be peeled from the tires of her mostly stolen care. The seatbelt cut into your neck and you figured yourself lucky that you’d taken a back road that was rarely used, god forbid she cause an accident.

“Dude!” You shouted as she put the car into park.

Kate twisted her entire body in the seat, placing her hand on the back of your seat. The motor was sputtering wildly, trying to compensate for her abrupt stop. Something had to be damaged, you thought, with her force on the pedal.

“Don’t dude me. Are you really that dense? If you haven’t noticed, Natasha is possessive over her things. And you? Well, you’re one of her favorite things. She’s not going to take this well in the slightest.”

“Kate, I think I know how to handle my girlfriend.”

“No, you know how to handle Natasha, the sweet, loving woman who would die for you and your child. Admirable, really. But you don’t know how to handle Miss Romanoff, mob boss extraordinaire.”

But you had seen Natasha in action before, countless times. She’d always kept this calm coolness about her that you were in awe of. Maybe Kate was right. You’d only seen a fraction of her jealous side at the first party you had ever attended in the house. That night she ripped the dress she’d picked out specifically for you to shreds.

“I was dating a man named Eli when I was first taken in by the Romanoff’s, He turned out to be… not so favorable despite my constant reassurances. Natasha just knows. She had him dig a grave right off I-25 and then she made him lay in it.”

Your jaw threatened to drop at the simple fact. Kate removed her hand from the back of the seat and eased off the brake before she slowly got the two of you back up to an acceptable speed.

“All Eli did was cheat on me one night in a club. It wasn’t great, but I wasn’t sure if it warranted that kind of reaction. I never knew if she was proving a point to me, or to Eli. Either way, the smallest offense against any of us is met with archaic conviction.”

You didn’t respond to Kate, instead you stared at the trees that were whizzing by in a lush green wall of color. You’d decided that she was right- any type of reaction Natasha was going to have to Kazi would be severe.

“You’ll be fine.” Kate tapped her fingers nervously on the wheel, trying to backtrack her words. “As long as he didn’t’ touch you.”

It didn’t seem to matter how ferociously you scrubbed your skin with the honey scented soap you shared with Natasha, you swore you still smelled like smoke. It clung to your clothes, and lingered in the air after you’d shoved them to the bottom of the clothes basket.

The water was blazingly hot, filling the bathroom with a thick mist that made it slow to breathe. Natasha had chosen a dark blue tile that seemed to transport you into another world. Even without the scaring remembrance of Kazi’s lips against yours, his hands where you didn’t want them, you could stay here for hours.

Her hands were freezing cold and startling as they splayed against your naked stomach. You let out a small noise, going rigid before registering Natasha behind you. Her front was pressed against your back, and you’d know the curve of her body anywhere.

“Izvinite, moya lyubov', I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You turned in her arms and took in the state of her. She’d stripped down just as you had, small drops of water littering her skin like a constellation in the sky. She’d been in the sun today, a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose giving her away.

There was a bruise forming against the side of her jaw, one that you ran your waterlogged fingers over. Her eyes were an intoxicating shade of green, playing off the indigo tiles. You wanted to scold her for getting the bruise in the first place, but you were so entrapped by her simple presence, the way she fit so perfectly against you.

Natasha closed the distance between you both, pressing her lips against yours in a hurried kiss. You moaned into the embrace, allowing her tongue to find purchase in your mouth. God- you had missed her in the short few hours you’d been apart.

“Did you take up smoking?” she asked, barely pulling away, the words were spoken flushed to your lips. “It’s a terrible habit, darling.”

The glovebox gum hadn’t done its job, and apparently the swish of mouthwash and subsequent teeth brushing hadn’t done anything either. Of course, Natasha noticed. Of course. You weren’t going to try to hide it, though the thought did occur to you to save some heartache. But you were hoping you could placate her in a less slippery spot of the house when you were less naked and incredibly turned on by her presence.

A groan of a different cadence than she was used to escaped you as you dropped your head to her shoulder and clenched your eyes shut. “No, I didn’t take up smoking.”

“You taste like you have,” She gently led your eyes to hers. It was tender compared to the first time she had done so. “Licking ash trays again?”

“Gross, no.”

Natasha valued honesty above all. That much had been clear from the moment you met her. She’d nearly taken your head off in the gym when you repeated your one-night-stand with the enemy. The devil incarnate who happened to only be decent in bed. You remembered her hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough for you to give her the answers she craved.

“What is it, pet? You can tell me.”

“Do you… I’ve been with men before.”

She let out a small chuckle that reverberated off the deep tile. “Yes, I know. I didn’t want to make assumptions, of course, but Ronnie does have a father.”

The way you stared at her in the silence that followed the statement made the smile on her face falter until it dropped entirely. She must have seen something behind your eyes, something that weighed the situation down more than she was intending on a typical Wednesday night.

“I’d completely blacked it out and didn’t realize it until I stepped foot into the lobby, but he still lives in the same apartment on the top floor. He thought I was after child support, or something but things sort of… escalated.”

You felt like a child, spilling your secrets about a vase you had broken. This time it was a cheap paperweight with a bug in the center that you frankly felt bad for. The words came out like emotional vomit, granted, Natasha had become used to your rapid admissions.

Her grip tightened against your chin, “Escalated how?”

“He kissed me, and I hit him hard enough to break his jaw.”

That same silence enveloped you again. The scalding water had lost its effect, numb and beating against your back. The two of you were still impossibly close and there wasn’t much escape for you in a shower this size. The glass door having fogged up and only giving you a stunted view of the large bathroom.

Natasha had an immeasurable rage behind her stare, her lidded expression ran as dark as old blood. It chilled you to your core. She reached beside you and shut off the constant flow of water. You’d been in here for about an hour now and the cold air that touched your skin felt like an assault of needles. You instinctively wrapped your arms around your center to preserve warmth.

“He laid his hands on you.”

“Yeah, Nat, he did.”

“He touched you.”

“I gave him hell for it, but it didn’t seem like it was enough.”

“Without permission.”

“He’ll never do it again.”

Whatever split-second decision she made; it was done without the usual calculation behind her eyes. She threw the door to the shower open and forcefully shoved a towel into your arms. While you revered in the warmth, you watched as she sauntered in her usual way out of the bathroom and into your shared bedroom. She was dripping wet.

“Natty!” You stumbled over the partition and nearly slid on the bathroom floor. It was much colder outside of your cocoon of warmth and subsequent mist. She thankfully hadn’t left the room and was pawing through her side of the dresser. You nearly lost your footing once you reached hardwood. “Fuck,”

She seemed to find what she was looking for, a plain black tank top that hugged her sides and looked entirely uncomfortable to wiggle into while damp. You watched with baited breath in a sloping towel as she adorned herself with underwear and pants, before turning towards you.

“Get dressed.” She ordered in a dangerous tone.

Shit. She was going to make you dig your own grave. You’d just showered all of the grime from Kazi’s apartment off and in a matter of minutes you would have dirt up to your knees. Natasha may have let Eli live after his blunder, but maybe she’d cover you completely and let you suffocate in your own efforts.

Numbly, you put on a pair of sweatpants and the closest shirt you had. There was no need to get dressed for your own funeral, you supposed. The worms would chew through whatever you wore regardless.

Clint was stretched out on the chase in the foyer, a pair of thick-lensed glasses balancing on the tip of his nose. Regardless, he still squinted at the book in his hands. You wondered why he wasn’t in the living room, but caught a glimpse of a particularly intense game of twister between Ronnie, Yelena, and Kate.

Darcy held onto the board, flicking the small plastic needle and calling out the colors. When Kate clocked the anger in Natasha’s eyes, she dropped to her back, taking down Yelena and Ronnie with her.

She gave you a pleading look, but you were already too far gone to return anything other than a flushed expression. You followed obediently after Natasha. She opened the front door and watched you with a calculated expression before slamming the front door hard enough to shake the glass fronting.

“Get in the car.”

“Do you want me to grab a shovel?”

“What?”

She contemplated this for a minute, growling softly. The near silence was terrifying. Her arms crossed over her chest was terrifying. Your mouth with incredibly dry, and you wished that you were back under the constant stream of water.

“No. I don’t think we’ll need that. Get in the car.”

Numbly, you did as you were told, placing your hands in your lap. This was quite possibly the last time you would be sitting in any car, much less, next to Natasha. She reached across you and pulled your seatbelt into place, tugging on the upper portion until she was sure you weren’t going anywhere.

The tires picked up traction on the gravel and the drive that usually took an hour seemed to whiz by. Natasha was quiet, the route to the city more than familiar by now. She run her hands against the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. You could hear her breathing deeply, trying to ease her nerves. You didn’t dare say a word.

For a moment, you figured that she’d abandoned the idea of burying you alive and switched her ideals to something much more sinister and public. She pulled her car up to the front of the very building you had left a few hours ago, the sun just barely setting behind the skyline. You blinked at her, and then up at the very property that she owned.

“Come on.”

There was no room for discussion. The air here was clouded with the scent of smoke and the coolness of the cement structures around you. It was moments like these where you much preferred the country.

Of course, Natasha knew the code, she had recited it to you earlier as you and Kate ate lunch by the docks, stretched out on the hood of her car. It was wrong then and your nerves were too elevated to pay attention now. She got in without the theatrics.

There seemed to be more activity as the day for working folks began to wind down. Two people halted their conversation by the mail-slots, nodding solemnly at the woman. On the third floor, you caught a glimpse of a woman struggling to push her keys into the lock, juggling her gym bag. The sixth floor held a small boy who darted from one apartment to another, edging across the hall.

She kept climbing until that same irritating French pop filled your ears. He must keep it on at all hours of the day, just to drown out his own miserable thoughts. “What apartment?”

You lifted your chin slightly, hands shoved in the pockets of your sweatpants to ward off the biting chill. “807.”

“Spasibo, lyubimyy.”

Natasha’s booted foot connected with the center of the very door you had politely knocked on earlier in the day. You flinched, covering your face with a guarded arm. The wood of the doorframe seemed to splinter, slivers reigning across both sides of the entrance.

“What the fuck!”

Kazi was hunched over the kitchen table, the funnel that had been drying by the sink was positioned perfectly in the mouth of a soaked and peeled liquor bottle. He had a stack of his own labels ready to place evenly on the finished product. Both of his feet were haphazardly wrapped with gauze, small sprouts of blood worming through the soft material.

He’d taken care to clean up the glass, but with the way Natasha headed straight towards him, that didn’t matter much. More of it fell to the floor and shattered upon impact. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and started walking him backwards across the living room. Kazi seemed too stunned to speak, his words caught in his throat.

“I-I-I didn’t mean it! Please!”

“When you speak to me, you’ll do it clearly.” She gritted, shoving him towards the window. Somewhere in the scuffle, the radio had fallen from its perch on the cracked windowsill, crashing to the alleyway below with one last fizzled cry. “You had no trouble saying whatever you wanted earlier, did you?”

“I’m sorry! Fuck! I told that bitch I would have the rent!”

“Yeah? Was that before or after you shoved your tongue down her throat?”

Natasha bent Kazi’s torso fully over the screenless window. He grasped frantically at her hands, clawing at them as the balanced him over the long drop to the pavement below. His bare feet kicked, trying to throw her off her equilibrium, but he was much too weak for any type of damage.

“You walked out on them.”

“What? Oh, my god, what?! I told her to get rid of it- I didn’t walk out on anyone! You’re batshit lady!”

To you, it didn’t’ seem very wise to throw insults at the woman holding you above an eight-story drop, but Kazi never was known for his intelligence. His bravado, maybe, but never anything more. He looked so small compared to Natasha’s anger.

“She didn’t get rid of it, Kazi. She kept the kid that you couldn’t have bothered to give another thought to. She made a life for both of them. She fucking loves that kid enough to fill the absence you left.” Natasha let her hand slip, letting him waver in his height for a moment before pulling him back up. He was crying, sobbing for his life. “And you have the nerve, to touch her, to break her and then come rushing back when she was strong enough to pick up the pieces?”

“I wasn’t ready,” he moaned out “I couldn’t be a dad.”

“It seems like there are a lot of things you can’t do, doesn’t it? You’re a pathetic excuse for a man. A pathetic excuse for a human being and once we leave here- I never want to see your face in my city again. Am I clear?”

Kazi let out another course of intelligible, wet, words. His back was nearly breaking under the force of Natasha’s hold, her knee directly up against his crotch, pushing down with all the strength she could muster.

“Y/n, I think this is a teaching moment, don’t you?”

The softness of her words as she addressed you caught you off guard. There was no malice. In fact, she beckoned to you as if she was calling you into the living room to join her under the blankets for a movie. Your heart raced fast enough for your chest to ache as you closed the distance between you both.

“See, the trick is making them think that you’re going to let them go.”

She said this to you as if Kazi wasn’t a slobbering mess under her touch. He’d carved little half-moon marks against the tops of her hand, some of them starting to leak blood with the sheer force of his struggle.

“You have to get creative with the fear aspect. If they think they’re going to die, it tends to work in our favor. Doesn’t it, Kazi?”

“Please,” He whimpered, “I’ll do whatever you want. I’m sorry, y/n, I’m sorry.”

Natasha did the seemingly impossible, she pushed him further out the window, his calves struggling for purchase against the drywall. “Oh, now that simply won’t do. You must keep her name out of your mouth.”

“In situations like these, darling, it’s best to keep full control. If he was anything other than wretched, then maybe you’d have to worry about him fighting back. You’ll get some people like that, but that trick is having leverage, literal and physical in cases like this.”

“I see,” You let the words escape you in a single breath “and how long do we play this game?”

“Until they know it’s not one.”

It took little effort for Natasha to push Kazi the rest of the way out the window. In spite of his clinging grip, the force of gravity was enough to do the work for her. His cry stunted in his throat and it only took a few seconds for a dull thud to echo through the alleyway, followed by the unmistakable sound of a car alarm going off.

With a small gasp, you leaned over the window yourself, staring down at the white Toyota that now had a sizeable dent in the top, the windshield spiderwebbing. Kazi let out a groan that you could hear from up here, blinking up at the sky with malice and shock in his eyes.

“Nat,” You breathed.

“Please, eight stories is survivable. Some people need to be taught a lesson.” She shrugged, pulling you back into the apartment by the sleeve of your shirt. “I’ll pay for the car repairs, if that makes you feel better, detka.”

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“Of course I did.” She reached forward and cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look at her. It was impossible to ignore the gesture, the words that she had said with so much blind passion. Tears threatened to overtake your waterline. “moya lyubov', he put his hands on you without permission and before that… before that he hurt you in ways unimaginable. I meant every word I said.”

You could hear sirens in the distance, a hazard of living in the city. They could be for Kazi, you supposed, something to take care of the surely broken ribs and the bruised ego. But, they could be for something more important.

You pushed forward and kissed Natasha delicately. You wanted to be impossibly close to her. Most gestures you had received in the past had come in the form of flowers, maybe the occasional box of chocolate from the drug store. Once again- Natasha had proved something to you.

Her chuckle vibrated into the kiss, “Mm, we should probably leave.”

You couldn’t agree more. You wanted to get out of this stupid apartment that was teeming with memories of your time with Kazi. The way he claimed his love for you, and forced you to make a horrible decision all in one exhale.

As the two of you walked down the long and winding steps, Natasha asked, “What was with the shovel thing?”

You laughed, suddenly feeling foolish for fearing Natasha in the first place. Her silence caused waves, and somehow, that was worse than if she’d threatened you outright, something that she never did with much heat.

“Kate, she told me about her ex-boyfriend, Eli, I think she said his name was.”

“Ah, Eli.” She frowned, “He cheated on her, and I only made him dig for an hour.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, as long as you never make me dig my own grave.”

“I would never do that. There is no punishment in things you can’t control.” Natasha gave your hand a squeeze, her solemn words punctuated with a slowly creeping smile. “Besides, detka, that’s simply not my style. It was much too messy.”

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ginnsbaker · 7 months

Text

mastermind

Summary: As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy. And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her // …or the one where you find Wanda in the crowd during your band's gig, only to discover there's much more to her than you initially thought.

Word count: 5.2K+ | Tags: Smut (18+), Fluff, Oral and fingering (W receiving), Squirting, Overstimulation, Meet-cute, Drummer!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Requested by anon. I got carried a way for a bit and took a few liberties. Hope you like it!

You almost didn’t make it for tonight’s gig.

Still recovering from the flu you caught last week, you were close to letting Kate fill in on the drums. That is, until Yelena begged you not to let her girlfriend botch a sold-out evening.

The tension backstage is thicker than Bucky’s pre-show smoothie, and, given the mishmash of green ingredients, that's saying something.

“I'm just saying, letting Kate drum tonight is like giving a cat a keyboard and expecting Bonham,” Yelena says, gesturing wildly with her hands.

“Continue talking and you might not have a girlfriend by the end of your next sentence!” Kate huffs, spinning on her heel to stomp out of the area.

You sip on your water, trying to keep your hydration levels up but also stifle a chuckle. This isn’t the first time Yelena’s protective streak has clashed with Kate's overenthusiastic approach to... well, everything. Natasha is trying, and failing, to keep a straight face, while Bucky seems to have found sudden interest in the intricate patterns on his boots.

Your head is throbbing, the remnants of the flu still gnawing at your energy, but you've mustered up just enough strength to make it through tonight's set. Before Yelena or any other band member can comment further, the organizer gestures for your band to take the stage.

You take a deep breath, followed by another swig of water. It's almost showtime, and the excitement is seeping through the nerves, reminding you why you endure the endless rehearsals, sleepless nights, and yes, even the pre-show squabbles.

As you step onto the stage, the applause is deafening. The lights illuminate the sea of faces before you, and you can see the familiar glint of excitement in the eyes of returning fans mixed with the curious expressions of first-timers.

Bucky approaches the mic, flashing his signature charming smile at the crowd. “Good evening, everyone! We’re ecstatic to see so many familiar faces and new ones too! We've got a great set for you tonight, but before we start, let's give a big shoutout to Y/N here, who's powering through the flu to be with us tonight!” The crowd roars in appreciation, and you can't help but wave sheepishly, a tentative smile stretching across your face.

Natasha strums the opening chords of the first song, her fingers dancing effortlessly over the strings. Yelena, momentarily forgetting her earlier spat with Kate, loses herself in the rhythm, the bassline syncing perfectly with your drumbeat. The music flows, each note hitting the right spots, the synergy between band members mesmerizing the audience.

As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy.

And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her.

There's a brunette, her hair cascading down, dancing like she was born for this exact moment. The way she sways and lets loose to the rhythm—it's captivating.

But it's when she turns around that your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. Her eyes meet yours, and the world seems to slow down for a moment. Those intense, deep-set eyes pull you in, making it impossible to look away. They're filled with an emotion that's hard to pinpoint: intrigue, curiosity, maybe even a hint of challenge. The message is clear—she's noticed you, just as much as you've noticed her.

She doesn't break the gaze, and as her hips move in tune with your beats, there's a silent communication happening. Your hands, despite the rising temperature of the room, feel cold against the drumsticks. It's a battle to maintain your rhythm and not lose yourself under her spell.

Natasha, catching the look on your face, leans in during a brief instrumental break. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you reply, attempting to refocus. Your distraction had almost caused you to miss a beat or two.

Your eyes are locked onto the brunette once more as she starts grinding against her friend, her movements confident, sultry, and unapologetically magnetic. It's the sort of dancing that would have any person within the perimeter drooling on the spot. Usually, you'd shy away from openly watching someone move so suggestively, but you find yourself completely mesmerized.

As the next song kicks off, you throw in some extra flash on the drums, just to see if she'll play along. And sure enough, with every fancy beat you drop, she dances right to it. It's like you're both in this unspoken challenge, seeing who can outdo the other. Your fingers grip the drumsticks tighter, and you can feel the heat rising on your face.

That's when Natasha glances in the same direction and catches on. “Well, well, looks like someone's got a fan,” she murmurs with a wink, her voice barely audible over the booming speakers.

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but the dryness in your mouth betrays your nonchalance. “Just playing my part,” you quip, though you're keenly aware that your concentration tonight is split between the drums and the mesmerizing dancer.

Yelena, following the exchange between you and Natasha, leans in from the bass guitar, raising an eyebrow. “Who's got you all hot and bothered?”

“Shut up, Yel,” you retort. With cheeks aflame, you try to shove Yelena’s teasing aside, to focus solely on the music coursing through your veins. However, the allure of the brunette is a magnet you can’t seem to resist.

As the beat picks up, so does the pace of your heart, hammering against your chest with every enthralling movement she makes. She is intoxicating, and you’re utterly spellbound.

During the bridge, you hit a sour note—a misstep that rarely happens—and Bucky gives you a dirty look from across the stage. He’s a perfectionist when it comes to the music, and you mouth a silent “sorry” before forcing your eyes away from the captivating sight in the crowd.

But not before catching her reaction.

She's laughing, her eyes alight with impishness, and you'd swear she's looking right at you. There's a knowing smile on her lips that suggests she knows exactly the effect she’s had on you. It’s both mortifying and exhilarating.

You try to keep to the side, hiding behind cymbals and drums, but it's impossible to shake the sensation of being observed. It's like she's got a spotlight aimed right at you, and you're center stage. Every moment you resist looking her way feels like an eternity, but every time you feel the pull to glance in her direction, Yelena’s earlier tease flares in your mind, keeping your eyes stubbornly on Bucky’s flashy shoes.

As the last song fades and the applause rolls in, you set down your drumsticks, nerves and excitement warring within you. You don't hang around for Bucky's wrap-up speech. Instead, you hustle to get backstage.

To everyone's shock, you decide to stick around after the gig. You're usually the most introverted one in the group and never do this.

Natasha sidles up to you, a teasing smirk on her lips. “So, about that girl you couldn't take your eyes off of...?”

You attempt to play it cool, but your nervous fidgeting with your drumsticks gives you away. “What girl?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

Bucky snorts in amusement, a wicked grin stretching across his face. “The one you were practically eye-fucking the entire set? Thought you were gonna jump off stage and grab her right there.”

You're now the shade of a ripe tomato, desperately searching for a diversion. “You guys are seeing things,” you mumble, avoiding their amused gazes.

“Honestly, I was half-expecting her to throw a bra onstage or something, the way you were gawking,” Yelena chirps in.

“Enough,” you protest weakly, your voice drowned out by the laughter of your bandmates.

Just as you're about to slip away to the bar for a breather, a waiter approaches you with a drink in hand. “Compliments of the lady over there,” he says, nodding towards a dim corner of the club.

You peer in the direction he's indicating but can't make out who it's from. The drink looks fancy, possibly alcoholic. Glancing at the waiter, you inform him, “I can't drink alcohol right now, but thank you.”

Natasha snatches it from the tray. “Well, if you're not taking it, it's mine.”

Bucky laughs. “Is everyone in this club trying to woo our drummer tonight?”

You roll your eyes at them, trying not to dwell on the mystery woman. However, it's not long before the same waiter returns, this time holding a simple glass of lemonade. “The lady noticed you weren’t drinking the cocktails and thought you might prefer this.”

Your curiosity almost gets the better of you, but the memories of the striking brunette dancing to your beats earlier still linger fresh in your mind. You opt not to scour the club's corners to spot who's sending the drinks. Instead, you lift the lemonade in a thankful gesture, aiming it in the general direction of where the waiter had pointed, and offer a polite, appreciative smile into the dim.

Natasha teases, “Playing hard to get, huh?”

You shrug and take a sip from your drink. “Just soaking in the night and the rewards of our hard work,” you remark, patting the pocket where you tucked away the cash from tonight's gig. “Isn't that what we're here for?”

An hour later, the club's neon and strobe lights continue to play tricks on your eyes, turning every brunette head you spot into a potential sighting. Each time, however, it’s not her.

Bucky's animated conversation about a new track he's been working on fades into the background. Natasha keeps throwing you knowing glances, but doesn't press. It's Yelena who finally comments, probably having had enough of your desolate puppy-dog look. She nudges you with her elbow, Kate giggling drunkenly by her side. Yelena's arm is protectively around Kate, but her sharp gaze is all on you.

“You know, you won't find her by just sulking here and gazing at every brunette that walks past. You gotta move,” she challenges, her tone equal parts bored and encouraging.

Kate, in her slightly inebriated state, adds with a giggle, “Yeah, go get her, tiger!”

“It's not that easy, you know,” you sigh, brooding over your drink. “Plus, what if she's not even interested?”

Yelena's smirk is almost predatory. “From what I saw? Trust me, she's interested. Now go.”

With a resigned sigh, you push yourself up from the booth. Steeling yourself, you start weaving your way through the crowd, using your slightly sober advantage to maneuver past intoxicated dancers. You scan every corner and table as you walk past, even though there's a nagging feeling in your gut that she might have already left the club.

It’s after what feels like an eternity that you spot a familiar cascade of brunette locks by the bar. She’s engaged in what appears to be an animated conversation with a tall, equally striking man. However, her posture—shoulders slightly hunched, eyes darting around—suggests that she’s far from comfortable.

The protective instinct kicks in before you can talk yourself out of it. Closing the distance, you position yourself between her and the persistent guy, offering her a way out. “Hey there,” you say, smoothly, your voice loud enough to be heard over the clamor. “I've been looking for you. Sorry I'm late.”

She catches on immediately, her relief evident as she steps closer to you, away from the guy. “There you are! I was starting to worry,” she plays along, giving you a swift kiss on the cheeks that has your eyes widening for a second and breaking character. Thankfully, the guy doesn’t notice your blunder, and sensing he's lost this battle, scowls and retreats into the crowd.

Turning to her, you can't help the grin that finds its way to your face. “Sorry for that, I wanted to help, but I didn’t also want to cause any trouble.”

She smiles back, her eyes gleaming in the club lights. “Thank you for the save. I was about to resort to more drastic measures.”

The banter between you flows naturally, the awkward ice broken by the unusual circumstance of your first interaction. “I'm Y/N,” you offer, extending a hand.

“Wanda,” she says, taking your hand. Her grip is firm and her hand warm against yours. It sends a jolt of electricity up your arm. Only now do you notice her eyes, the shade of green in them, and the way they reveal so much yet nothing at all. Just like that, you fall a little deeper into her trap.

“Wanda,” you repeat, tasting the name on your tongue as if trying it out. Your smile broadens instinctively, and she catches it, her nose scrunching up bashfully.

“What?” she asks.

“Oh, nothing,” you chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “I just think it's a beautiful name. Fits someone as beautiful as you.”

She blushes, and you can't help but inwardly high five yourself for making her smile like that. She looks away for a moment, trying to hide her smile but fails miserably, and you find it endearing.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her eyes meeting yours once more, a shy smile on her lips.

The night unfolds seamlessly from there. You find a quiet corner away from the crowd, where the music is a distant thump, allowing conversation to flow freely.

“So, when did you start drumming?” Wanda asks, leaning in a bit, genuinely seeming interested in your answer. You try your best to stay calm as you feel the heat radiate from her body.

“Believe it or not, I started a bit late, around twelve,” you reply, smiling at the memory of your younger self, awkwardly trying to grasp the drumsticks. “But I played the guitar first, picked it up when I was just five.”

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Wow, so you're a multi-instrumentalist?”

You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, but can't help the proud grin that creeps onto your face. “Something like that. But I mainly stick to drums in the band.”

She tilts her head, her eyes shining with interest. “Why don't you play the guitar for the band then?”

“Natasha's better than me on the guitar. She's got this incredible flair and finesse. I mean, I'm good, but she's... amazing.”

Wanda nods, absorbing the information, “I've heard her play, she really is. But I'm sure you're just as great.”

You laugh, “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Then, taking a sip of your drink, you add, “Playing the guitar actually helps a lot when I'm writing our songs.”

“Wait, you write the songs?”

“Most of them,” you confirm, trying to sound as modest as you can be. “It's a collaborative effort, of course. But yeah, having a knowledge of multiple instruments, especially the guitar, helps lay the foundation for many of our tracks.”

Wanda looks at you, clearly impressed. “That's incredible, Y/N. No wonder your music feels so... personal. It's like you're telling a story with every song.”

“You’ve listened to our songs before?” you ask, mildly surprised.

Wanda nods sheepishly, as if caught harboring a guilty secret. “I might have, a few times... I definitely came here tonight to see you guys perform.”

She then places a hand on your knee, and all at once, your throat feels parched. She scoots closer to you, to speak directly into your ear. “I wish I could see you play the guitar for me.”

You swallow hard. Her suggestion has certainly crossed your mind several times throughout the conversation. “Actually,” you begin, trying to steady your voice, “we keep our instruments in the back of the van. If you're interested, I could... play something for you?”

Wanda pulls back slightly to meet your eyes, looking like she wasn’t expecting you to actually agree to give her a private performance. “Really? Now?”

You nod, then stand and extend your hand to her, grinning. “Ready for a show?”

This isn’t exactly the kind of show you had in mind when you led Wanda to the back of the van. But you’re just twenty seconds into the new song you’ve been working on when she grabs your face with both hands and draws you in for a ferocious kiss. It’s a kiss that you haven’t tasted in a while—completely unrestrained.

You're lucky the drum set hasn't been loaded up yet, and with Bucky's keyboard being used by the current band onstage, there's just the right amount of space. Taking advantage, you push Wanda onto her back without breaking away from the kiss.

You pull away just enough to ask, “Are you sure?” while Wanda starts to slide your jacket down your arms.

Wanda nods impatiently, tracing her tongue along the underside of your chin, clearly enjoying the reaction she provokes.

“Was that a yes?” you prod, sitting up. Wanda sighs, albeit a bit irritably, only because you're suddenly out of her reach, before she collects herself enough to answer, “Yes, Y/N, I'm sure.”

“It's just that... I usually don’t do this,” you confess, looking down in embarrassment.

Your heart is pounding so loudly you're sure Wanda can hear it, especially with the way she's studying you intently. You can feel the heat creep up your neck, coloring your cheeks a deep shade of pink. This isn't typically your scene, and you wonder if she's regretting her decision.

But then, with a move that’s smooth and tender, Wanda slides her fingers under your chin, lifting your head to meet her gaze. Her eyes aren't filled with judgment or mockery, but with genuine understanding and something else you can't quite place.

“I find it... sexy,” she murmurs. “It’s refreshing, actually. Everything about you feels genuine. It's rare to find someone not playing games.”

Your eyes widen a fraction. That wasn't the reaction you'd been expecting.

She smirks a little at your expression, that hint of mischief returning. “Did you think admitting you're a little inexperienced would scare me off? If anything, it makes this even more exciting.”

“I'm not exactly 'inexperienced',” you argue with a bashful smile.

Her voice drops to a whisper, making your breath catch, and she inches just a bit closer. “I'm sure about this, Y/N. The back of a van might not be a romantic scene from a movie, but…” she breathes, and then she makes sure you feel every word she’s going to say next being spoken in your ear. “But right now? I swear, I might just go crazy if you don't touch me.”

Her statement stokes the fire between your legs and acting on the pull you feel, you lean in, hesitating just for a fraction of a second before capturing her lips with yours. Wanda lets out a soft, sultry moan as you deepen the kiss, your tongue boldly seeking entrance. She grants it, and you're immediately intoxicated, not just by the taste of the vodka she's been sipping on, but by Wanda herself. The way she feels, the way she responds—it's all consuming.

She tilts her head, granting you better access, and you take the opportunity to explore every inch of her mouth. The gentle tang of the alcohol is present but overshadowed by her own unique flavor, which is even more intoxicating. You can feel her hands resting on your shoulders, fingers gripping you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

Wanda's breath hitches sharply as you confidently take charge. You yank her shirt off in one quick move, and she's laid bare under the soft street lights. Outside, some party is still in full swing, but in here, it's all about the uninhibited hunger between the two of you.

You slip your fingers to the back of her bra, fumbling just a moment before unhooking it, revealing her. Not wasting any time, you dive in, taking her nipple in your mouth, savoring it. The sensation drives her wild, and she arches her back, pushing herself deeper against you with a throaty moan.

Her fingers grip your hair, guiding and sometimes just pulling when she needs more. Every sound she makes, every pull of her fingers, gets you more revved up. It's intense, it's messy, but it's all too real.

As your hands venture lower, you notice her pupils dilate and her breathing grow uneven.

“You still sure?” you whisper, releasing her nipple with a wet pop. She responds with a desperate whine, pressing her hips closer to yours.

“Use your words, baby girl,” you murmur, nipping at her pulse point.

“Yes, yes, yes…” she answers breathlessly. “Please, Y/N.”

Your fingers playfully glide over her entrance, teasing her, “So wet for me,” you marvel, pressing a firm kiss to her neck. Your fingers dip inside her just slightly, pulling back out to further tease her.

“It's too bad I don't have my strap with me,” you groan, grinding against her thigh, letting her feel how turned on you are. “You'd look so pretty, taking it all.”

Her breathing hitches, “God, I wish you had it too.”

Wanda’s whines intensify, a sweet sound of pure desperation, as you suddenly remove your fingers from her. “Why did you—” she starts to complain, but you silence her with a searing kiss.

“I want to see all of you,” you murmur against her lips. Her skirt is the next target, and you fumble with the zipper, eager to remove the barrier between your hands and her skin. However, as you're about to pull down her underwear, a thought strikes you. Looking around the back of the van, you remember how it's been used for hauling equipment, and the floor isn't exactly pristine.

Thinking quickly, you grab your jacket and lay it out beneath her, ensuring she's on a cleaner surface. “Always got to take care of my girl,” you wink at her, trying to lighten the moment.

“Your girl?” Wanda echoes, her eyes half-lidded, a playful smile curling on her lips.

You realize your slip-up a beat too late, but then, her underwear and skirt are swiftly discarded, and she lies there, beautifully exposed to your hungry gaze.

“You're breathtaking,” you whisper in awe.

She flushes under your gaze. “I could say the same for you,” she murmurs, pulling you closer.

Your eyes roam her body, the soft curves and inviting skin, particularly where she's most sensitive. But you've always been one for asking.

“Can I taste you?” The question leaves your lips, whispered against the skin of her inner thigh, making her shiver.

She responds with a needy, “Yes, please,” and bites her bottom lip, arching her hips slightly, as if laying herself bare for your indulgence.

You don't waste any more time. Shuffling down, you position yourself between her legs, the aromatic scent of her arousal filling your senses. Carefully, you part her folds with your fingers, your tongue darting out to collect the first taste. The first touch of your tongue against her wetness draws a sharp inhale from her, followed by a moan that has your ears burning from how shameless it sounds.

Your tongue swirls around her swollen nub, establishing a pattern that has her thighs clenching around your head. “Fucky, right there,” she groans, her hips thrusting up, eager to meet each glide and flick of your tongue. The wet sounds of your mouth paired with her whimpers urge you to sneak a hand beneath your jeans, seeking relief for your own building tension.

Her hands tighten in your hair, pulling you closer, almost as if she's trying to mold you to her. “More, right there... Oh, god!” she cries out, providing the exact guidance you need.

Amused by her reactions, you intentionally draw out a slurping sound as your tongue dives deeper, making Wanda retreat, but you abandon your own need for release to grab her ass and pull her back to your mouth.

“Y/N, please, please, I’m—”

“You like that, don't you?” you tease, voice husky with lust. “You sound so pretty when you beg.”

She keens, a desperate sound, her fingers tightening their grip on your hair. You're relentless, enjoying every second of her unraveling, and she's close—so close.

“Are you going to come for me, Wanda?” you growl, lost in the intoxicating taste of her, pressing your tongue deeper, seeking out every intimate spot that makes her body jolt and writhe above you. Her voice breaks into a high-pitched cry, “Y/N! I'm—I'm—” and you feel her climax, her entire body shaking with the force of it, her wetness dripping from your chin down to your throat, drenching you in the process.

Wanda's gasps fill the space as she shudders, the aftershocks of her orgasm leaving her body trembling. A wicked grin spreads across your face as you take in the sight of her, completely spent and vulnerable. She squirms beneath your mouth, trying to escape the onslaught of sensations. “Too much,” she pants, her voice hoarse.

Ignoring her plea, you continue your ministrations, lips and tongue working in tandem, driving her to the brink once more. As you feel her tensing up, preparing to escape your relentless assault, you slip two fingers inside her, feeling the tight clench of her around you. The unexpected intrusion steals her breath and the fight from her limbs, her resistance melting under your touch.

“You want more, don't you?” you murmur before your lips find her clit again.

The van is starting to smell like sex. You know you'll have to do something about this later, but for now, you can't bring yourself to care as you take in every detail of the naked girl before you. The pleasure is almost overwhelming for Wanda, teetering on the edge of pain, but she feels another climax building deep inside her.

“Y/N!” she cries, her grip on your hair tightening, her back arching. “I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!”

You don't stop, doubling your efforts, fingers and tongue working in sync, driving her up and beyond any point she's ever known. Suddenly, there's a gush, wetter and warmer than before, surprising you both. You pull back slightly, and she looks down, mortified. Her face turns a deep shade of red, and she tries to squirm out from beneath you.

“I'm so sorry... I—” Wanda stammers, scrambling to hide her face in her hands.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, a smirk forming on your lips. “Wanda, that was... incredibly hot.”

She looks away, still trying to process what just happened. “I didn’t... I've never...”

Sitting up, you gently cup her face, making her look at you. “Hey, it’s alright,” you say softly, trying to reassure her. “Don't be embarrassed. I'm honored that you felt comfortable enough with me to let go completely.”

She gives a shaky laugh, her fingers lightly tracing circles on your chest. “I can't believe you made me do that on the first try.”

“And I’m extremely lucky to be able to,” you say with a chuckle, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.

She blushes for a moment, then says, “I noticed you didn’t... you know. Do you want me to...?”

“Next time,” you promise, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Right now, I need to make sure this van doesn’t end up as evidence of our... activities.” You wink, earning a soft giggle from her.

“Besides, I have to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed watching you fall apart because of me,” you add, mischievously wetting your lips.

She blushes, playfully swatting at your arm. “You're impossible.”

You were the first to step out of the van, offering Wanda a moment of privacy to get dressed. When she finally emerges, she leans on you for support. “I can't feel my legs,” she jokes, struggling a bit. She hands you your jacket which you'd forgotten, helping you slip it on. Immediately, the scent of her hits you, reminding you that she had climaxed twice on that very fabric.

Before you can dwell on the thought, a man approaches Wanda. It’s the same guy from earlier, the one she was arguing with at the bar. You instinctively square your shoulders, ready to step in between them, protectively, but Wanda halts you with a hand on your chest.

“Pietro!” Wanda exclaims, letting out an exasperated sigh as she utters her brother's name. You halt, puzzled.

She knows this guy?

Pietro looks at Wanda, then at you, his eyes narrowing for a moment. “You ready to go, Wanda?” he asks, clearly impatient.

She turns to you, giving you a soft, apologetic smile. “Y/N, this is my brother, Pietro.”

You swallow dryly, offering a somewhat clammy hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Pietro just eyes your hand, perhaps connecting the dots from earlier. Feeling like an idiot, you quickly pull your hand back, subtly rubbing it against your pants. He departs without another word, muttering to Wanda, “I'll be in the car. Don't keep me waiting too long.”

Wanda watches Pietro go, her smile fading a bit. Turning back to you, she takes a deep breath. “Okay, so, about earlier,” she starts, biting her lower lip nervously. “I might have, um... staged that whole fight thing to get your attention. He wasn’t too thrilled about the idea, but he played along.” Her eyes dart to the ground, avoiding your gaze.

You blink, processing her confession. Before you can come up with any coherent response, she giggles at the dumbfounded expression on your face. “I really have to go,” she says.

And then, before you can react, she plants a featherlight kiss on your cheek. The warmth of it lingers on your skin as she steps back, her eyes holding yours for a long, sweet moment.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her eyes glistening under the soft moonlight. “Tonight was... unexpected, but amazing.”

And with that, she turns and hurries off to where Pietro is waiting for her by a parked car. You stand there, feeling the spot on your cheek where her lips touched, watching her until she hops into the car and drives off into the night. It’s only after the car disappears around the bend that you mentally kick yourself for forgetting to ask for her number. With a sigh, you turn back to your van, resigned to cleaning up.

The chill of the night settles in, and when you slip your hands into your jacket pockets, your fingers catch a scrap of paper. It feels out of place, foreign to the usual belongings you stash in there. You pull it out, and to your surprise, it's a receipt. The drinks listed there jog a memory: an alcoholic cocktail offered to you earlier in the night which you politely declined, and the tangy lemonade that followed right after.

Realization dawns on you. Wanda had been orchestrating things all night. You flip the receipt over and your heart skips a beat. Scrawled at the back in a neat, cursive handwriting is her number, accompanied by a simple message: “Call me soon.”

Grinning like a fool, you grab a cloth and some disinfectant from the compartment. Cleaning the back of a van has never felt this satisfying.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #oneshots #wanda maximoff au #yelena belova #kate bishop #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff smut #fic request

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 2 months

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~Masterlist~

I write for Marvel Women, including Wanda, Natasha, Carol, Valkyrie, Kate, Yelena, Darcy, Agatha and Peggy

I will write from Fem and GN reader perspective. Will write GP.

I'm autistic and will write autistic!Reader

No bestiality, pedo, racism, or homophobia

This is an 18+ blog. Men and minors DNI. Ageless and/or blank blogs will be blocked!

Headcannons

One Shots

Drabbles

Moodboards

Series

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sytoran · 1 year

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𝐒𝐘𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

howdy, thanks for dropping by :)

✦ this blog is intended for sapphics, men dni

✦ what i write: sub!marvel women x dom!reader

✦ most works contain smut. 18+ only. blank/ageless blogs who interact will be blocked

✦ hate anons/asks that make me uncomfortable will be blocked

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

#sytoran speaks - for when i answer inbox asks, or post rambles.

#sytoran's fic recs - for other writers' fanfics i reblog.

#sytoran's incorrect quotes - for my unfunny marvel quotes.

read this tutorial if you want to read my fics with 'mature' community labels! | my AO3

requests: closed | taglists are discontinued

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

4k followers celebration

the christmas chronicles

kinktober 2023 masterlist

2k followers celebration

valentines' special 2023

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅

SERIES:

pretty in pink

Adopting a hybrid bunny girl becomes one of the best decisions you've ever made in your life. Despite the blurred lines that form in your relationship, you wouldn't trade anything in the world for your sweet angel that is Wanda Maximoff.

the excellence of misfortune

Moving into Westview to escape the demons that chase you, there you meet Wanda Maximoff, a married woman who's looking for the same kind of escapism. Where one seeks order and the other seeks thrill, maybe you can show each other a little neighbourly support, and perhaps, find the excellence of misfortune.

ONESHOTS:

spooky scary skeletons the one where you're ghostface and wanda maximoff is your next victim.

nsfw alphabet your sex life with your girlfriend, told through snapshots of the alphabet.

the pirate and the mermaid in the midst of a voyage, a notorious pirate stumbles upon a pretty little mermaid.

arabella as a writer, your love for wanda transcends the boundaries of words.

medicine after a particularly taxing work day, there's no better stress relief than your cute little bunny sleeping half-naked in your bed.

doctor's orders barbie!wanda hasn’t got a clue about how her newly-human body works. thankfully, you happen to be the best gynecologist in town.

babysitter duty | pt.2 the mom of the kids you babysit is extremely hot.

kick a ball, score a hot mom wanda's sons have soccer practice, while she spends some time with their young and ridiculously good-looking coach in the equipment closet.

extra credit the one where professor maximoff promises you extra credit if you make her squirt, and you're a fast learner.

taunt the several times wanda scrunches her nose at you.

god, you're insatiable a formal work party gone wrong when wanda's co-workers get a little too close to you.

giddyup in which you wake up to your girlfriend riding on your abs.

boudoir photography the finals assignment where your top student submits her nudes.

heat waves omegaverse - the one where an omega wanda in heat goes to the bar to find some relief, and meets the alpha bartender.

study break in which straight A student wanda maximoff studies with the school's jock and jerk, you.

rockin' around the christmas tree in which "rockin'" is a euphemism for sex.

'tis the season to be horny making gingerbread houses with your horny girlfriend.

last christmas | pt.2 the one where you reunite with your toxic ex on christmas.

i'm (c)reaming of a white christmas when they said 'white christmas', you thought it meant being covered in snow, certainly not...... this.

all i want for christmas is you (to fuck me] the only thing on wanda's wishlist is you.

slow hands | pt.2 college au where you had always thought wanda was out of your league, until that night at tony stark's party.

DRABBLES:

babygirl wanda

more babygirl wanda

babygirl model wanda

𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐅𝐅

SERIES:

home is where the heart is

In which your married life with Natasha Romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. With your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (And ultimately, very horny.)

my divine goddess

After saving a mystical cat from a deathly experience, you're hauled into the world of Gods and Goddesses with one wish to get whatever it is you desire. Turns out, all you crave is the Goddess of Lust, Natasha Romanoff. Steamy entanglements turn into love-filled confessions, but the two of you were star-crossed from the very start.

ONESHOTS:

mile high club on a plane ride to dubai for a romantic getaway, natasha takes matters into her own hands, and your cock into her own mouth. (oops?)

arsonist's lullabye natasha gets more attached than expected after a one-night-stand with the college's infamous player.

mechanic jacks and jacked mechanics natasha's car breaks down in the dead of the night, and an unbelievably sexy mechanic shows up to fix her right up.

let me fuck your tits? your wife thinks you've been acting a little off lately, but it comes down to the 'hard' truth that you just wanna fuck her tits.

i wanna be yours despite your countless pleads for natasha to stay away during the full moon, she decides to brave the beast... and gets a lot more than what she bargained for.

widow's web natasha's mission to retrieve a thumbdrive file by seducing a high-ranking executive goes a little too smoothly, and she doesn't notice you're not all you seem to be.

break the rules when visiting the strip club downtown with your co-workers, you catch the eye of none other than the 'black widow'.

obsession, possesion! your roomate's an innocent little thing, the prettiest girl on campus, whose boobs you're a little too obsessed with.

office hours | pt.2 natasha romanoff is your new secretary, and she's ready to help you with your every need.

DRABBLES:

natasha plays a prank

━━ 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒 fics

ONESHOTS:

if god forbid (Peggy Carter x Gn!Reader) you're eating your wife out under her office desk as she speaks to - or at least, attempts to speak to - her military soldiers.

the super soldier theory (Wandanat x Amab!Reader) being a supersoldier had its perks, like getting to fuck the black widow and scarlet witch on a mission.

DRABBLES:

subby!agatha

possesive wandanat

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randomshyperson · 1 year

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Morning Grumpy Witch - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: The one where moody Emo!Wanda has a bad morning, but luckily, she also has a soft spot saved for her girlfriend. [Requested]

Warnings: None really, all fluff with Avengers being a family and Wanda being a simp. | Words: 1.197k

A/N-> I deviated a little from the original request and ended up writing a shared POV with Reader and Bucky Barnes my precious baby. This is pretty small and sweet as requested.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

It was common knowledge in Avengers Tower that Wanda could be a temperamental person. And so it was best to keep a distance until she regained her temper, especially after things went wrong, like failing Natasha Romanoff's same combat challenge four times in a row. Not that anyone was keeping score.

But Bucky was a recent member of the team, and well, he's trying to be a more considerate person and had no idea that while he was preparing breakfast, Wanda was falling down her ass, again and again, and having to deal with the provocative giggles of two veteran captains and a spy who seemed to take some kind of personal pride in managing to defeat a witch.

And just for this, when the team left the gymnasiums for the kitchen, he greeted them amiably and joined in the loose talk and jokes even if he didn't know exactly what the others were laughing at.

Clint - who had spent the morning reinforcing and repairing his bows - appeared in the kitchen and like the father he was, his first instinct was to ruffle the hair of an already irritated Maximoff, grinning at her grumbling protest as he leaned over to get a cup of coffee.

Bucky didn't do anything wrong. He just wanted to make conversation. The problem was the subject.

"So, Maximoff, everything went well in training? Someone needs to kick Natasha's ass one of these days. I imagine it's easier with your magical advantage." He commented, but Wanda remained silent to the countless giggles that arose from the Avengers present in the gym at the time of the training.

Natasha made an expression of false interest, which hid the teasing. "Yeah, Wanda, tell him how your magic tricks helped you fall flat on your face on the tatami four times?"

The table exploded into giggles, Wanda grunted in irritation and embarrassment, before standing at once with a small breakfast plate in hand. Bucky swallowed dryly when she offered him only an angry glance of red irises before turning away to the kitchen counter.

He leaned a little in Nat's direction. "Was it that bad?" He whispered, and the widow laughed before clarifying:

"She has potential, but she relies too much on magic tricks. She can't get past the first wave of challenges, because she can't charm a training hologram." Nat explains.

The table falls into a brief conversation, and Bucky steals a glance at where Wanda is sitting - and shattering a loaf of bread with more force than necessary.

From the small living room, two figures then emerge to join the meal: the Starks of the Tower. Unlike Tony and his fancy robe, you are dressed casually, and he vaguely remembers you mentioning that you had a meeting at SWORD later.

It is Tony who greets the team first- You follow him, smiling briefly before your gaze circles the room.

"Where's my little witch...?" You ask distractedly, almost sighing when you see the crestfallen figure in the kitchen.

"Careful." He warns naturally. "She's kind of moody today."

You chuckle through your nose, turning away without missing an opportunity to steal a sweet bagel from Tony's hand, and ignoring his protest to catch up with your girlfriend at the counter.

Well, Bucky assumes you are a couple at least. He has never asked about it, but it is in the way you look and behave around each other.

And it's definitely in how you come up behind Wanda, hugging her and completely breaking her pouting expression with kisses all over her neck and face.

The team only pays attention to the display of affection when Wanda breaks into a giggle a minute later, the sound muffled between kisses that you steal from her.

Clint has a fond smile as he comments to the rest of the staff:

"It's nice that they get along so well."

The Avengers hum in agreement. Natasha is swiping cream cheese on a cracker when she comments to Steve:

"Let's invite Y/N to watch the afternoon practice." She says turning her face to the two figures on the counter. Wanda's stool has been spun by your hands, and despite being all over her, you both have your attention on the table at the mention of your name. Natasha gives a little smile. "It's just that Wanda fights better when she wants to impress her girlfriend. Isn't that right, Maximoff?"

All Nat gets is a raised middle finger that makes the team laugh. You chuckle at the interaction too but lean your face to hide against Wanda's neck, your arms closing around her body and hugging her properly. Wanda ignores the team to hold you back.

"I like this." She whispers, arms tightening and making you hum in agreement against her skin. Still, the position is not ideal because of the height difference between your standing figure and her sitting. Wanda sighs in your ear. "Can we go back to our room? Take a shower together..."

You groan at the amazing idea, kissing her neck before pulling away to look her in the eyes. "I can't, babe. Business meeting" You remind her, mimicking the pout she displays with your response. "Sorry. How about later?"

"Natasha didn't lie, I really do have practice. I like the idea of you watching, though." She replies, and you flash a small lopsided grin.

"Hmm, I also like the idea of watching you sweat..." You tease, managing to make her cheeks acquire a pink color. You kiss her softly before commenting, "It's a date then."

You are kissing her again when Clint hisses in warning, his gaze on the clock on the wall.

"You'll be late if you don't leave now, Stark." He tells you, and begrudgingly, you pull away from Wanda, stealing a few kisses before doing so completely.

"I'm going to borrow your car, Tony. The Silver Bugatti." You declare as you walk past the keychain. Your brother grimaces.

"No way! You have your own cars!" He protests but only receives vague excuses before you rush out of the kitchen - Throwing a kiss in the air to your girlfriend before leaving completely.

Tony spends the rest of the coffee complaining that no one respects their older brothers anymore. Bucky is impressed that five minutes ago, Wanda nearly bewitched him over a question, and now she was having trouble hiding the silly grin on her face.

He got up to drop some dirty mugs in the sink, and ventured, "You two are sweet together. And you seem to really like her, with your puppy dog eyes."

Wanda's expression changed on the spot, the red returning to her irises but also to her cheeks.

"Are you mocking me?" She retorted but looked so adorable at having been caught that he just chuckled, his attention on his mugs.

"I wouldn't dream of it." He merely replied, chuckling to himself as Wanda stormed out of the kitchen the next moment. Stealing a quick glance at Steve across the table, he wonders if it would be a good idea to set up a double date, maybe even invite Maria and Natasha if the widow promises not to torment the witch.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff oneshots #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel reader insert #marvel imagines

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 8 months

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Master List

This page is geared towards an 18+ Audience. Please read through any warnings at the start of fics as they are there for a reason.

My Ao3 Account- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger

My Wattpad Account- LovePersevering2

Who I write for: Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, other Marvel Women

What I will write: Smut, fluff, angst, g!p, au

Wanda Maximoff

Oneshots (All 18+)

New Neighbours- After meeting a beautiful woman in a store, you soon discover that she's your neighbour and she's single.

Devil In Disguise- Wanda isn't as innocent as everyone thinks she is.

Break Me- Wanda needs you to be rough with her and give her exactly what she wants.

Detention- Your Professor keeps you behind after class as you were distracted.

Take Control Of Me- You ask Wanda to use you as she wishes.

Are You Interested? - "I'm very attracted to you, would you be interested in having an affair?"

Heatwave Fun- You and your girlfriend find a way to cool down during a heatwave.

Dirty Thoughts- While babysitting the twins, Wanda is left to listen to all the sinful thoughts of the older woman flickering through your mind.

Listen To Mommy- Your Mommy teaches you a lesson after being a brat.

Focus- Wanda tests how well you can concentrate while her hands roam your body.

Can't I?- "You can't control me the way you do them." "Can't I?"

Teach Me- After tutoring the twins, their mother decides to give you your own personal lesson.

Touch Me- You beg Wanda to give you what you desperately want.

Protective Girlfriend- Wanda gets worried when you hurt yourself in training. You find a way to convince her that you're perfectly fine.

Boyfriend- Inspired by the song by Dove Cameron

Please...- An affair that turns into more.

So Wrong- How can something so wrong feel so right?

We're Going To Get Along Just Fine- You go home with a mysterious woman from the bar.

Attention (G!P Reader) - You're girlfriend thinks you're spending too much time focussing on work so you give her the attention she wants.

A Workout To Remember (G!P Reader)- Your Gym crush makes a move on you.

Trick Or Treat (G!P Reader)- Loosely inspired by WV ep6 and the phrase trick or treat.

Lingerie (G!P Reader)- Wanda surprises you in a new lace set.

Series (All 18+)

The Babysitter (WIP- Currently 144k words)- In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

Secrets (Completed- 23k words)- DARK FIC- "Do you swear on your life?" She lets her fingers trail up your arm, moving to your drag along the side of your neck and your jaw before resting on your chin, holding your face to look at her.

"I swear on my life," you whisper, unable to look away from her.

"Would you be interested in having an affair?"

This fic also includes relationship with Natasha Romanoff in which the reader is not faithful in.

Enemies With Benefits (Completed- 16k Words)- You hated her. She hated you. It was just sex. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right?

Miss Maximoff (Completed- 8k) - After strange circumstances, you find yourself falling for the married woman next door.

I Don't Hate You- After going too far in training, Steve makes you check up on Wanda. Upon hearing a groan, panic fills you before you hear your name falling off her lips in a desperate moan. Oh.

Natasha Romanoff

One Shots

I Wanted You- "We tried so hard not to be torn apart. But at the end of it all, we both wanted something different...I wanted you. And you...you didn't want them to know."

Daddy Issues- TW for Abuse. Inspired by the song Daddy Issues by the Neighbourhood

Warm Us Up (18+)- After your reluctance to work together causes you to be stranded in a safehouse, You come up with an idea on how to stop the two of you freezing to death.

Series (All 18+)

The Soldier Of Death (WIP- Currently 32k words) Warning of graphic depictions of violence. - Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?

Secrets (Completed- 23k) Dark Fic- Same fic as the one mentioned in the Wanda Series section.

Love Is For Children (Completed 43k) - "You love her, don't you?" "Loved. I loved her."

Bad Idea (Completed 4.7k) - A friends with benefits story that turns into lovers.

You Need Me- Natasha should hate you. You're the enemy. But she can't lie and say you were wrong. She did need you.

Miss Romanoff- What happens when the mysterious woman you went home with turned out to be your new professor...

Wanda And Natasha X Reader

Should Have Knocked- You accidentally walk in on Wanda and Nat in a compromising position. What you didn't expect was for them to ask you to join them.

The Devil And An Angel- Your girlfriends tempt you to sin.

Alone In The Compound- Thinking you were alone, you and Wanda take advantage of the emptiness of the compound. What you didn't expect was for the Black Widow to walk in on you two.

More posts with links to be added soon, all of posts are on my other accounts so check them out if you want to read them before I post them on here :)

#masterlist #wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha x you #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic writer #mcu fanfiction

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 2 years

Text

Assistance In The Battle (Natasha Romanoff X Male!Reader)

Characters: Natasha Romanoff X Male!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: Spoilers to Avengers, mention of violence and guns

Request: Hi, can I request Natasha Romanoff x Male!reader, set in the first avengers movie, where reader is a friend of fury’s, who is in the army and quickly climbed the ranks, and has come to help the avengers. The reader meets the Avengers and him and Nat just hit off.

The second you got the call from Fury that things were ‘going to hell’ in New York, you immediately gathered your squad, told them that they were going blind into a possibly awful situation, let whoever wasn’t prepared for that to leave, and got the rest into helicopters to get to the helicarrier to see what your men could do. By the time you had arrived, Loki had opened his portal above the city. You didn’t have time to talk to Fury, and really there was no need to; the enemy was obvious, and you and your men got to work.

You split your squad into several groups, and from there let them decide who would attack, and who would defend. You led your own group right into the centre of the carnage, and it wasn’t long until you crossed paths with the other group sent in to deal with this mess. The first one you saw was the Hulk, and you ended up having to slap the gun down of one of your men to stop him taking a shot, assuring him he wasn’t a threat, and to instead focus on the aliens. Then you heard one of your other men call from behind “Is she with us?” You turned, seeing he was talking about a woman with short red hair, dressed in a black catsuit, pistols in hand, striding over to your men. While your men didn’t recognise her, you did.

“Natasha Romanoff, unfortunate we had to finally meet in this mess, where do you need us?” You called for her as she approached your group, standing in front of you. When Fury considers you a friend, he likes to have you be acquainted with his other few friends, making a subconscious group of people who would skip introductions and just get to work, especially for situations like this.

“General L/N I’m assuming?” She guessed and you nodded. “I got wind that some of your boys are already securing spots around the city and helping evacuate citizens- so far you’re doing things perfectly. I have to go meet up with Rogers now, but I need you to focus your attention on moving citizens to secure areas, preferably underground where they’re safe.” She requested.

“Say no more. Do what you need, we’ll try to keep things under control here. Good luck, when this is over, we can have a proper talk.” You told her, pointing your men down the street, and you separated from the assassin.

You kept a constant eye out for Romanoff and the others, mostly to make sure your boys stayed out of their way. You made sure that the other groups were aware of the big green guy and to not shoot him and instead assist him if able to, as well as to assist the others. When you had gained more structure, you had the police under your control, following your orders. You had them focus on getting people to the secure areas your men set up, while your men focussed on protecting them and keep danger away. It became a routine, second nature, almost trance like with your senses on high alert, searching for any more danger to the civilians from atop the bus you had positioned yourself on, having moved it to create a barrier for the route civilians were taking. You were engrossed until your radio buzzed.

“What’s happening with the portal?” A voice asked through it. You paused to look, instead making sure the coast was clear before looking up, and you looked up just in time to see the portal above slam shut. You pressed your finger against the button on the side.

“The portal’s shut, that doesn’t mean there still isn’t any dangers in the city, keep an eye out. If there’s nothing in your area, slowly work outwards until the city’s clear. They’ll be back up eventually to help, so don’t rush it. Be thorough.” You ordered. You looked from your spot for any other allies, finding nothing, and you stood from your spot. Not long after, you got another message from your radio.

“General, I saw some of those aliens when the portal shut- they just dropped dead. I think it cut off some sort of connection. I think we’re secure.”

“I hope so, but just in case it was a fluke, proceed with caution. If no one finds a living one in the next 20 minutes, we’ll presume your observation to be true.” You responded. With that done, you started your attempt to get in touch with Fury or Maria Hill to gather more information and see if you were needed anywhere else. After half an hour, you got through to him, confirmed the aliens were dead, and got answers of what exactly had happened. Rescue services arrived to take over, you dismissed your squad to return to their families while you went to go meet with Fury on the Helicarrier.

When you arrived, things were still hectic, and Fury was busy talking with world officials, explaining what happened, what to expect, and what action should be taken, and so you waited patiently on the main floor with all the windows that looked down at the city bellow. It was there you could see all the carnage and damage that had happened, and you had to remind yourself that it could have been a hell of a lot worse.

“Are you waiting to speak with Fury as well?” You looked over your shoulder at the familiar face, smiling faintly as the red head came to stand beside you. “The whole world is in a panic still, there’s a belief that more portals are going to open up.” She explained.

“I can imagine… did you get Loki?”

“Hulk got his hands on him, he gave up soon after.” She answered, and you couldn’t help but grimace at the idea of what the big guy did. “A bit of a rough start for th Avengers, but we got a handle on it, I think?”

“Oh, so Fury finally put together his team of powerful people, huh? You made the team? I guess my application got lost in the mail.” You joked with her, getting a chuckle from her.

“I’m sure you can try for tryouts next year. I’ll put in a good word for you.” She joked back. “In the meantime though… your squad did an amazing job down there. I’ve never seen someone lead a group as large as yours so effectively over such a large area. I have no doubt that from now on you and your squad will work closely with us as our back up.”

“I like the idea of that, the guys don’t like being inactive for too long, they get antsy. Also, Fury always talks so positively about you, it would be a pleasure to see you in action finally.” You complimented, causing Natasha to smile.

“L/N, Romanoff, you needed to talk to me?” You both turned at the sound of Fury beckons, his head poking out of an office door. You turned to Natasha, and motioned for her to go ahead.

“I’ll talk to you later, alright?” She told you. You nodded politely, and she made her leave to go talk to Fury.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

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