haley:). she/they. bisexual. fanfic reblogs/recommendations. 20s writing account
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if you’re having a bad day, here’s a cute little marching band
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Death by a Thousand Cuts
warnings: fluff with minor angst (rio x fem! reader)
notes: based on Rio’s line “Death by a Thousand Cuts” and how she lick Agatha’s wound to heal it. Also the alternative title is “Kiss it better”
Your whimpers of pain echoed through the forest, piercing the stillness of the night. You couldn’t even hold yourself for comfort—the cuts and bruises on your body were too raw. Dried blood clung to your torn clothes, and you didn’t know how you’d escaped. The sisters you had trusted, your coven, had betrayed you, turning on you just because you were something they couldn’t understand. You were beyond their control, and they feared you would bring chaos, even though all you’d ever given was peace.
Each shallow breath sent a fresh wave of pain rippling through you, and even the slightest breeze against your skin felt like another blade. Helpless, you leaned against a tree for support, your hoarse voice breaking as you looked down at the cuts that covered you.
From a distance, she watched you, her hood concealing her face, her expression unreadable. Another choked cry slipped from your lips, and she closed her eyes, your suffering tearing through her in silent agony. Her presence was like a shadow in your mind, comforting yet terrifying.
“Please,” you whispered, barely able to form the words. You didn’t beg for mercy; you begged for her. Even as she hesitated, you hoped she would come closer, wanting her to be the last thing you saw before everything faded.
When your eyes opened again, she was there—hauntingly beautiful and close enough to touch. “You woke up sooner than I expected, love,” she murmured, her voice laced with a rare softness and concern.
“Is this it?” you asked, your gaze pleading, searching her face. Her lips curved in a gentle, knowing smile.
“It can’t be,” she answered, her words holding a weight that made you sigh. You closed your eyes, only for memories of your torture to surface, jerking them open as you sat up, a groan escaping as pain flared through you.
“Let me.” Her voice was steady, her hands moving carefully as she helped you sit up. You winced as pressure sent fresh agony from the cuts on your thighs, tears welling up again.
“Don’t.” She stopped you, sensing the self-blame etched in your eyes. Gently, she cupped your cheeks, her fingers brushing against the wounds on your face, and you flinched at the sting. Her thumb traced over your skin in soothing circles, and you felt the quiet, grounding strength of her presence.
Without another word, she leaned down and pressed her lips to a cut on your cheek. A tingling warmth bloomed under her touch as her magic began to heal it, soothing the ache. She moved slowly, her lips ghosting over each wound, one by one, her attention tender, as if sealing each cut with her own quiet, unspoken promise.
“It’s over now,” she whispered, her voice like a balm. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”
Her lips found another wound, each kiss a reassurance, a vow that you were safe now. She worked her way across your arms, your shoulders, each press of her lips easing the pain, her magic seeping into the wounds, mending you from the outside in. As she tended to every scar, she murmured soft, comforting words, anchoring you in the present.
“You’re safe,” she repeated, her voice steady. “They’re gone. You’re here, with me.”
Her lips brushed against the cuts on your wrists, gentle as a feather, her hands cradling yours as if she could keep the pain from ever finding you again. You felt your breath hitch, but this time it was something close to relief that took hold.
When she finished, she met your eyes, her gaze fierce yet filled with a quiet warmth. “They’ll never touch you again. I promise.”
Just couldn’t get this thought out of my head
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Give The People What They Want - Billy Loomis & Stu Macher
Pairing: Stu Macher x f! camgirl! reader (fem pronouns + has a pussy) x Billy Loomis
Genre: smut/NSFW
Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: you enlist the help of Billy and Stu to give your followers what they want--you losing your virginity
CW: camgirl! reader, slight modern! AU, live porn, exhibitionism, slight dubcon, threesome, double penetration (in the pussy), fingering, cum play, lots of cum, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, riding, backshots, praise/degradation, rough sex
hi sorry this is late i procrastinated writing it all day. also i have no idea what onlyfans/other porn streaming sites look like so im so sorry this whole post looks like a twitch chat lmfao
Kinktober Masterlist
PapaSugar471 has gifted $25: ride something for us baby
Camfan97: yeah stretch out that little pussy
You look at the chat and pretend to act shocked. “I don’t know if I can take something other than my fingers…”
You dip a finger teasingly into your dripping hole, leaning back on your bed to show them just how tight you are. You arch your back and whine, slowly pumping it in and out.
“See how tight I am?” You whine and push another finger into your pussy, “anything else is too big.”
WesC1996 has gifted $100: i would give anything to watch that pussy get ruined
PapaSugar471: our girl needs a good fuck
“You guys really wanna see me get fucked, hm?” You roll over onto your hands and knees, arching your back to give the webcam an even better view of your entrance. “You wanna see my poor, virgin pussy get ruined?”
You start to work yourself open on your fingers, lewd wet sounds starting to fill the air. You can hear notifications coming from your chat room, but you’re so lost in the pleasure you don’t turn around to look.
“F-fuck,” you whine and slip another finger inside, your gummy walls stretching around your knuckles. “I need cock so bad!”
The pleasure builds inside of you, threatening to explode out. There’s a sound behind you, a sound not from your stream. It almost sounds like your door opening, but you ignore it and focus on the way your fingertips dig into your walls.
Camfan97: who is that
Y/nluvr: ummm what
PapaSugar471: turn around
Blaviusx89: mods who is this guy
You’re so close to cumming when hands suddenly grab your hips, shoving you face first into the bed. You squeal, turning around to come face to face with a tall man in a white mask.
You feign surprise, letting out a blood curdling scream at the knife brandishing man in front of you. You almost applaud yourself for how realistic your scream sounds.
Stu looms over you, his back to the camera but out of the way just enough that you can still be seen. He grabs your knees and folds them into your chest, holding your legs up. He presses a hand down over your mouth, clamping down so you can’t be heard.
Since your followers have been hounding you lately to get fucked on stream, you thought you’d at least make it fun. That’s how you ended up asking Stu and Billy for a little favour.
He dips a gloved finger into your aching pussy, that pressure returning. You were so close to cumming before he showed up and now all you want is more. He fingers you slowly, refusing to give you what you want so quickly. You try to thrust your hips into him and drive his finger deeper, but he moves away every time you do.
Finally, he slips a second finger inside of you and starts to thrust faster. The width of two of his fingers is more than the three you just had inside of you, and your pussy strains to take all of him. He pumps them in and out of you at a devastating pace, your juices starting to splash upwards. Loud splashing noises fill the room, Stu’s assault on your pussy not letting up.
The pressure in your stomach is almost painful. Your walls tremble around his hand and threaten to let loose the waves of pleasure building inside of you. You drown out the rush of notifications from your laptop, all of your focus on your impending orgasm.
Stu’s hand on your mouth slips down to your neck, squeezing as you cum. Your whole body convulses, juices running down your pussy, into your ass and onto your bed.
He leans in and releases the pressure from your neck. “Look at your chat,” he runs a finger across your puffy clit, “I think they like this.”
PapaSugar471: so hot. now fuck her
Pepega69: this has to be scripted LOL
CamFan97: show that pussy whos boss
Y/nluvr: lucky guy….wish that was me
Stu gets up from your bed, pulling out his cock through an opening in the black robe. His cock is much bigger than you expected—fairly long and not bad in girth, either. The pink tip looks almost swollen, precum rolling off of it.
He pushes the tip against your cheek, rubbing his length across your mouth. You stick out your tongue, looking up at him through your lashes as he smacks his tip onto your mouth.
“Gonna fuck your face,” he groans. He looks at the camera, speaking through the voice changer, “should I fuck her face?”
Another rush of notifications fills the chat, the sound making you dizzy. Stu takes that as a yes, slowly pushing his cock into your mouth. Even with his tip tickling the back of your throat, you’ve just barely got half of his length into your mouth. Stu tangles a hand in your hair, using it like a rein to pull you closer.
You open your throat to him, wrapping your lips around his cock and sucking. His precum leaks into your mouth and runs down your throat. Stu tugs hard on your hair, pushing his cock beyond your throat and making you gag. You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing yourself to breathe through your nose as his cock fills your mouth completely. Your jaw aches from the stretch, but you force yourself to take it. You dig your nails into the meat of his thighs as black spots start to crowd your vision.
When he pulls out, you look up at the camera with teary eyes, pouting with your swollen lips. The chat looks blurry and foreign to you, your head spinning from the lack of oxygen.
Stu climbs on the bed behind you, grabbing your hips and shoving you forwards. Your face is only a foot or so away from the camera, everyone able to see the drool and precum around your mouth and the tears in your eyes.
Stu rubs his cock across your ass and through your folds, whining quietly so that only you can hear him. Your pussy leaks with every touch, running down your thighs and making them stick together. He lines his cock up at your entrance, slowly pushing the tip in.
You’ve never been fucked before, and the stretch is almost painful. It knocks the air out of your lungs, but Stu tightens his grip on your hips and keeps going until he bottoms out. You whimper. He’s so deep that you can feel him in your stomach, the tip of his cock brushing up against your insides.
“He’s too deep,” you whine into the camera.
Stu takes that as a sign to keep going, pulling out his cock until only the tip remains, and then thrusting back into you hard. You gasp involuntarily, losing your balance on your elbows and face planting into the bed. It takes a few more thrusts before the pain goes away completely, replaced with the delicious feeling of his cock spreading your walls apart.
You moan so loud you’re sure the whole neighborhood can hear it, your pussy squelching everytime he pulls his cock out. Stu’s thrusts are merciless, his hips colliding with your ass every single time. His fingertips dig into your sides, desperate for a grip to keep up his stamina.
That familiar pressure builds inside of you, tying your stomach into knots, but it’s stronger than you’ve ever felt before. You look up at the camera through your lashes, your flushed and feverish skin making you look almost animated. There’s a loud burst of notifications, drowned out by your combined moans and the sound of skin on skin.
It only takes a few more thrusts before your muscles are giving out, legs shaking as you collapse. Stu manages to keep you up just long enough for him to cum inside of you, hot bursts of cum mixing with your juices as they pour out of you. He gives a few more sloppy thrusts, milking his cock with your tight cunt, before pulling out and letting you go.
Stu pulls you against his chest, laying you on your back. He hooks his knees around yours, spreading your legs wide for the camera. “Look at that,” he groans, his cum leaking out of your pussy. “Such a whore.”
Stu rubs up your chest, squeezing your tits together. He spreads your pussy for the camera, using another finger to push his cum back inside of you. “You’re not done yet, though.”
As if on cue, the door opens and a shorter man dressed in an identical costume enters. Billy. You stare at him as he stalks towards you, black robes looking like smoke in the dim red light of your room.
As soon as Billy enters the frame, your chat goes wild once again. He sits in front of the bed, mask only inches away from your aching, puffy pussy. He inhales your scent, almost moaning at the smell of sex.
“Thanks for warming her up for me,” his voice changer sounds almost identical to Stu’s. “Look at that stretched out cunt.”
Billy dips two fingers into your pussy, sliding them in and out easily. He thrusts them in only a few times before pulling them out and sucking on them, savouring the mixture of Stu’s cum and your juices.
He climbs over top of the two of you, “ready for me to fuck you?”
You bite your lip and nod. He swipes his thumb across your lips, prodding at you until you open up. He slips his thumb into your mouth and you suck, the taste of leather and sex heavy on your tongue. He trades his thumb for his index and middle finger, pushing them back so that they graze your throat.
His other hand reaches in for his cock, stroking it to life against your thigh. You can feel his hard length and the precum dripping off of it, your pussy starting to tingle in anticipation.
“How do you wanna fuck her?” Stu’s voice startles you, you’d almost forgotten he was there.
Billy slaps your pussy. “I think she’s had it too easy tonight,” he looks at the camera, “I think she should ride me.”
You shiver at the thought. Your pussy is already aching, all of your muscles weak just from fucking Stu. You look up at Billy pleadingly, but he just chuckles.
He lays down flat on his back, stroking his cock in one hand. Stu pushes you off of his chest. Grabbing your hips to help guide you into Billy’s lap. You straddle his legs, your pussy dripping all over his robes and waiting cock.
You lean forwards, pressing your tits against his chest, and reach back to grab his cock. Stu helps you guide it inside of you, both you and Billy moaning when his tip pops inside of you. You sit up more straight, rolling your hips back and taking him inch by inch. Billy keeps a vice grip on your hips while you ride him, helping you bounce up and down his cock.
He’s not as long as Stu, but he’s thicker, stretching you out even more. Your walls open up around him, pussy straining to take his girth. You rock your hips forwards until just his tip is inside before slamming them back down, almost screaming from the pleasure of his cock digging into your g-spot.
Billy starts guiding you up and down his length, thrusting his hips up desperately to get as deep inside of you as possible. Your orgasm builds much quicker this time, with the overstimulation and all. Your legs shake pathetically, your arms threatening to give out, but you still fuck yourself on him.
Billy slaps your ass hard, digging his fingers into the flesh. You whine and let yourself collapse onto his chest, barely moving on his cock as that pressure bursts and floods your body. Billy can feel your pussy contracting around him and the juices staining his costume, and decides to take mercy on you.
He wraps his arms around your back to keep you still and thrusts into you hard, his cock pistoning in and out of you faster than you can keep track. You lay on his chest, moaning weakly as he pummels your aching hole. It’s not long before his thrusts go sloppy and you feel his cock twitching inside of you, his hot cum coating your walls in white.
You moan from the feeling, eyes practically rolling back at how good he feels. Billy doesn’t pull out, his still hard cock resting inside of you.
“You want another round?” He asks.
For a second, you think he’s asking you but as you raise your head, you see he’s asking Stu, who’s stroking his cock. You swallow hard at the idea of another orgasm, already sweaty and feverish from the last few.
“Are you?”
Both boys laugh. Billy grabs your hips and spins you around, your back pressed against his chest. He buries his cock as far as he can inside you, wrapping his arms behind your knees to pull them up. Stu admires your swollen and aching pussy, glistening from all the fluids its seen tonight before crawling on top of you.
“W-wait—” You cry out as Stu rubs the head of his cock on your clit, “both of you?”
“So cute,” Billy mumbles into your ear, “that you think you have a choice.”
Just as he says that, Stu starts forcing his cock inside of you. It’s a tight fit with Billy already in there, but he manages. You almost cry from the pressure, an insane mix of pain and pleasure overwhelming you.
As soon as Stu bottoms out, you’re making a mess on their cocks again. Your pussy gushes around them, only acting as more lube for the two cocks inside of you.
“Look at that,” Stu groans, “already cumming and we haven’t started fucking you yet.”
“I always knew you were a whore, y/n.”
Their degradation has no effect on you, your brain turning into mush from another consecutive orgasm. You’re so full that you worry you may burst, both cocks feeling impossibly big inside of you.
Stu starts to thrust at a steady pace, forced to take it slow with how tight it is inside of you. The three of you moan in tandem with every movement, their cocks rubbing your walls with every breath. Billy tightens his grip on your knees, drawing them up even more to give Stu better access.
Stu laughs, pressing a hand against your tummy. “I can see my cock inside of you.”
You look up through hooded lids and can just barely see the outline of his cock under his hand. He presses a little harder, thrusting faster as your pussy starts to loosen up. You’re barely aware of your own moans or the praise the men sing at you as they ruin your pussy.
They take turns thrusting, your juices drenching the three of you and your bedsheets. It feels like hours that they fuck you, cocks alternating pumping inside of you. Your stomach fills with knots, that familiar pressure coming back.
Stu cums first, cock twitching and shooting another massive load of cum inside of you. It sets off a chain reaction, with your orgasm coming next. You clench so tight around their cocks that it’s almost painful, all of your senses going numb. Black spots dance at your vision, threatening to send you spiraling into unconsciousness. Billy cums last, another load of cum packing your pussy impossibly tight. You’re so full it’s overwhelming.
Stu and Billy pull out, releasing you onto your soaked mattress. They move the laptop closer to you, Billy folding your legs up again so that the viewers can get a good look at your ruined pussy.
“She’s gushing cum,” Billy says into the voice changer. “So much for being a virgin….this one’s an absolute whore.”
They each hook a finger into your pussy, stretching it enough that the mixture of cum runs out of you. You weakly sit up, looking at yourself in the camera. Your pussy is open, filled with cum and swollen from the overstimulation. You hardly even recognize it.
Billy and Stu disappear off camera, probably headed off to get you water and a cold cloth, leaving you staring into the flashing red light of the camera.
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We’ll have to do dinner Thursday night instead.
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What happens when you become an x-men
1) Charles shows up AFTER the WORST possible day of your life and convinces you to come live at the mansion.
2) Logan decides if he’s gonna have to parent you or sleep with you
3) you get more trauma (somehow)
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Hey for your 4k celebration could you do purge the poison from marina with anyone from the mcu please?
Poisoned Mind, Poisoned Heart | Chapter 1
Series Summary: Dr. Strange turns to you, Wanda’s ex, to help him stop her before it’s too late. Can you do it or will Wanda corrupt you, too?
A/N: This is what came to my head when I listened to the song! Hope it fits. I'm excited for this series to start. Let me know if you want to be on this taglist.
Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)
Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist
Doctor Stephen Strange was the last person you expected to see when you opened up your door. For a fleeting second, you considered slamming the door in his face, but that type of rudeness was never in your nature, no matter how much the flight in your fight or flight response was yelling at you to do so. “I should really start looking through the peephole before answering my door,” was what you ended up saying with a sigh.
Stephen fixed you with a small, knowing smile. “I’m going to pretend that’s just because I might’ve been a stranger and not because you don’t want to see me,” he joked. You knew what he was doing - trying to ease you into whatever reason he had for coming over here when he hadn’t seen or spoken to you in years with humor.
“Well, this isn’t just you being in the neighborhood and wanting to have a nice chat, is it?” You said, glancing down at the intricate costume he adorned.
Catching onto the fact that you didn’t want him to beat around the bush, Stephen gave you a slight nod. “May I come in?” He asked politely.
Despite being still weary and a bit nervous, you stepped aside. You knew that if he was coming here, he must have a good reason. Years ago, after the civil war between Steve and Tony, when you left the Avengers and said goodbye to being a superhero, you had strictly instructed everyone to leave you alone unless there was some threat to the universe. You had gone back briefly to help them fight Thanos, but quickly returned to your civilian life afterward.
Stephen walked in and you closed the door behind him, but didn’t lock it. You weren’t intending for him to stay long. The sorcerer took a moment to look around your hallway, at all the paintings and photos on your walls. “Nice house,” he murmured, picking up a photo of you on a nearby table and looking at it.
“Stephen,” you warned gently.
Stephen cleared his throat and set down the photo, turning back to you. “What do you know about what Wanda has gotten up to recently?” He asked.
It was akin to him dumping a bucket of ice water over your head - you visibly flinched, taken aback. Wanda. You had worked very hard to get over the woman you once loved, the love that ended due to you being on opposite sides of the Accords. Like Natasha, you had sided with Tony not because you really believed in the Accords, but because you wanted to keep the team together. Wanda hadn’t seen it that way and you didn’t exactly blame her for it, until you two started to get into awful screaming matches.
“I heard on the news about Westview . . . They say that no one’s been able to reach or find her since,” you answered carefully, remembering the conflicting emotions you had when finding out about it all. Even after all this time, you haven't been able to fall out of love. She stuck with you. A part of you hated it, the other part was enchanted by it. You still wanted the best for her and discovering what happened in Westview was painful.
“That was true, up until now,” Stephen said, taking a small step towards you.
You tried to hold back the gasp building up in your throat, but you failed. All you could do was bore your eyes into him as you waited for him to continue.
“There’s this . . . girl. Her name is America Chavez and she has these powers of accessing alternate realities that Wanda wants. I think she’s been corrupted by the Darkhold . . . If she gets access to these alternate realities, there’s no telling what she’ll do,” Stephen said.
You furrowed your eyebrows, now confused and feeling a little overwhelmed as his words swarmed your head. “Alternate realities?” You questioned.
“I can explain everything in detail, but I think you can get through to her, Y/N,” Stephen said.
No matter if you still loved her, if there was some deep part inside you that wanted to help, you still felt reluctant to return to that life. You started to shake your head. “She doesn’t love me, she fell in love with Vision,” you muttered, trying - wanting - to deny it.
“She never stopped talking about you,” Stephen revealed softly.
This caused you to squeeze your eyes shut, feelings and memories of another time washing over you all at once. “Stephen, I can’t-” you started to say.
“Let me explain everything back at the Sanctum Sanctorum and then we can go from there,” Stephen said, his voice still as sweet as honey. So charming and alluring, “This . . . isn’t just a threat to our universe. It’s a threat to all the universes.”
That was the nail in the coffin - you would never be able to fully rid yourself of your natural, heroic instinct to help people. “Okay,” you agreed, letting out a breath. Despite just telling yourself that you were only agreeing to hear him, you knew deep down, in your heart, what you got yourself into - you were going to try and help. Help Wanda, help Stephen, help the goddamn multiverse.
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You: I don’t care if Wanda is the Scarlet Witch!
You, to Stephen and America: I’d kill both of you just to get her to spit in my face
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Wandavision (The Scarlet Witch Saga, Part I)
Summary: (Y/N) meets with S.W.O.R.D.’s Director Hayward in an attempt to reclaim Vision’s remains for burial but after Wanda makes an unexpected and hostile appearance at their headquarters, both women uncover far more than they’d originally bargained for…
Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings/Disclaimers: None
A/N: Hi guys! Sorry it's been so long between stories, but I've been taking care of my mother post-hip replacement surgery and I haven't had very much free time to write. However, I found the time to finish this little angst-filled one-shot up, so yay! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!
Wandavision Part I of The Scarlet Witch Saga November 2023 S.W.O.R.D. Headquarters, Florida (Superhero Snapshots Masterlist)
“I’m sorry, Mrs. (Y/L/N), but Director Hayward’s itinerary is completely booked-”
“And yet, I was assured over the phone by his secretary that he would finally be available to meet with me today at eleven o’clock, which is…” (Y/N) made a show of pulling back the sleeve of her blouse to look at her watch. “Right now. I don’t appreciate being given the runaround, so I suggest that you give his office another buzz before I come back with a few Avengers; believe me, they won’t be as friendly and accommodating as I am.”
The security guard gulped, snatching up his phone’s handset and hastily punching in the extension to Director Hayward’s office as (Y/N) leaned against his desk and looked up at the towering screens that lined the lobby’s walls. News footage from all across the world played one after the other, each of them depicting families being reunited and celebrations taking place in the wake of the Battle of Earth, and a wistful smile tugged on the corner of her lip. Although it had been nearly three weeks since they’d completed their Time Heist and Bruce utilized the Infinity Stones to bring the Vanished back, she still couldn’t quite believe that they’d done it; Carina, Sam, Bucky and every other friend and teammate they’d lost that traumatic day five years ago in Wakanda was back. But as the news footage changed to coverage of Tony and Natasha’s deaths and all the memorial services being held across the world in their honor, (Y/N)’s smile fell and she quickly averted her gaze from the screens.
In the wake of Tony and Natasha’s deaths, it had fallen to (Y/N) to pay a visit to S.W.O.R.D.’s headquarters in Florida to retrieve Vision’s body and arrange for his burial. Fury had pulled several strings before departing for space and finally managed to uncover where the android’s body was being held, even going so far as to discover that there were several proposed plans floating around the organization to study his remains for the development of high-tech weapons. Since her fellow Avengers were busy helping to re-stabilize Earth and countless other planets across the galaxy and Steve was at home with Carina – and, as far as the rest of the world was concerned, Steve Rogers was presumed dead after the Battle of Earth – (Y/N) volunteered to represent the Avengers in a meeting with Director Tyler Hayward to discuss the return of the fallen Avenger’s body. Now, why do I get the feeling that S.W.O.R.D. isn’t just going to hand over Vis out of the goodness of their hearts, she thought to herself with a frustrated sigh, mindful of the half-healed cut across her stomach (an aggravating physical memento from her brief clash with Thanos) as she straightened her posture and looked out at the bustling lobby.
“Oh shit…” (Y/N) swore under her breath as she spotted none other than Wanda Maximoff striding towards the security guard’s desk; the younger woman’s expression was nothing short of incensed, with her green eyes blazing and her lips pressed into the thinnest of lines, but her expression subtly softened when her gaze landed on (Y/N). With the memory of Wanda’s near-defeat of the Mad Titan still fresh in her mind, she pushed herself off the desk and stepped forward to deescalate the situation before it began. “Wanda, I tried to call but all I got was your voicemail-”
“I was tracking down a lead when you called, and I came down here the moment I listened to your message,” The younger woman interrupted, and she looked around the busy lobby with an air of suspicion. “So, this Director Hayward has agreed to meet with you?”
(Y/N) nodded. “Yes, but now that I’m here, they’re trying to tell me that I was never penciled in and that his schedule’s fully booked for today.”
Wanda’s eyes briefly glowed scarlet as her lip curled up and without another word, she brushed past (Y/N) and stormed up to the security guard’s desk. “I know you have him.”
“I-I’m sorry, but like I already told Mrs. (Y/L/N)-”
“Please…” She trailed off when she spotted the nearest armed guards tighten their grips on their weapons and while (Y/N) cautiously moved to stand beside her, she took a steadying breath and forced herself to calmly continued. “Please. When I came back, he was gone. His body…” Her voice shook with barely-restrained emotion and her fingers anxiously tugged on the cuff of her jacket’s sleeve. “And I know he’s here. He deserves a funeral, at least. I deserve it.”
The security guard’s growing discomfort was alleviated by the ringing of his desk phone; with a barely-perceptible sigh of relief, he snatched up the receiver and listened to the speaker on the other end of the line. “Yes, sir. Yeah, she’s still here.” Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) watched Wanda stare intently at the security camera affixed to the wall behind the desk and a shiver ran down her spine; I’ve got a bad feeling about all this, she thought to herself, her fingers anxiously twisting her wedding ring around and around her finger. “Are you sure? O-Of course…” The security guard’s forehead was beaded with sweat as he set the receiver down and looked back up at (Y/N). “Through the doors, down the hall. Two lefts and a right.” Wanda pushed herself off the desk and started towards the guarded double doors off to the side, forcing (Y/N) to flash him a fleeting smile of thanks and hurry after her. “One moment, I have to buzz you in.”
“I got it, thanks!” Wanda’s voice dripped with sarcasm and before anyone could react, she lobbed a ball of scarlet-hued energy towards the locked double doors that forced them open, the walls shuddering as they slammed against them; ignoring the stares of dozens of security personnel, armed guards and employees and the uncomfortable tugging on her stitches, (Y/N) quickened her pace and fell into step with the younger woman. “You disapprove of my methods, don’t you?”
(Y/N) hummed thoughtfully and followed it up with a half-hearted shrug. “Well, they did try to waste my time back there, time that I’d much rather spend with my husband and newly-returned daughter, so I can’t say that I entirely disapprove. But Wanda…” They turned left and continued walking down the hall. “We’ve got to play this carefully. Do you know what S.W.O.R.D. stands for?”
“Honestly, I don’t care,” Wanda snapped, but quickly grew contrite when she caught sight of (Y/N)’s arched brow. “Sorry. What does it stand for?”
“Sentient Weapon Observation and Response Division. A few years ago, they redirected most of their resources to studying and developing robotics, nanotechnology and A.I.; they essentially stopped studying and began to both design and build their own weaponry.” They turned another corner and (Y/N) carefully weighed her words before continuing. “My point is that this organization might’ve once been dedicated to defending Earth from extra-terrestrial and extra-dimensional threats, but they’ve evolved into quite a formidable agency and one that won’t easily bow to external pressure. We’re Avengers and we just saved the world, but that doesn’t mean that things can’t and won’t go south if we burst into this asshat’s office and start making demands.”
Pursing her lips, Wanda ruminated on her statement and as they turned right into an empty hallway, she shook her head in disbelief. “So, you’re suggesting diplomacy for the organization that’s withholding my lover’s corpse from me?”
(Y/N)’s hand reached out to clasp Wanda’s forearm and she succeeded in halting their momentum for a moment; she looked around for any signs of security cameras or employees before lowering her voice and answering, “I’m suggesting self-preservation, Wanda; you know better than anybody how quickly these organizations can turn on someone the moment their interests stop aligning with theirs.” A lump of emotion formed in her throat and just as she’d done for nearly three weeks, she blinked away her tears and forced herself to smile. “Nat’ll come back from wherever she is and personally kick my ass if I let you end up in the Raft again.”
The younger woman’s green eyes softened, and the air hung heavy around them as they both thought about their fallen friend. “She would, wouldn’t she?” Taking a deep breath, she gently pried (Y/N)’s fingers away from her arm and gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “Self-preservation it is.”
They shared a look of understanding before continuing down the hallway and approaching a metal-plated door near its end; the engraved plaque on the wall beside it read ‘Level 101: Director’ and as they came to a stop, the electronic keycard reader below it blinked green and the lock clicked open. (Y/N) straightened her posture and opened the door, stepping into an impressive office and immediately fixing her gaze upon the salt-and-pepper haired man getting up from his desk to greet them. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Wanda Maximoff. It’s an honor to meet you both, truly.” (Y/N) reluctantly shook Director Hayward’s outstretched hand as he gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’d like to offer you my condolences, Mrs. (Y/L/N); your husband was a personal hero of mine, and his loss is a profound tragedy.”
It took a moment for (Y/N) to remember the lie that Nick Fury had helped to propagate and spread from the shadows for the past several weeks: that Steve Rogers was reported missing in action in the wake of the Battle of Earth and was presumed to have died while fighting Thanos. It was the lie they’d crafted together after he’d returned from his final mission de-serumed and steadfast in his desire to retire from the mantle he’d carried for decades in favor of a quiet life with (Y/N) and Carina, but it was a challenging one to maintain when she knew that he was safe at their home in Brooklyn with their daughter. Rearranging her features into a sorrowful expression with the ease of a trained spy, (Y/N) offered the older man a tight smile and nodded. “Thank you, Director.”
“Who are you?” Wanda demanded, her tone sharp and borderline accusatory as she took a step forward and pointedly refused to shake the director’s hand.
Director Hayward took her hostility in stride, lowering his hand and giving her a polite smile. “Director Tyler Hayward. I understand you’re both here to see the Vision – to recover the body, that is – is that right?”
“Well, I’m his next of kin,” She replied and gestured towards (Y/N). “And she’s here acting as the official representative of the Avengers in this matter.”
“I understand. I’d like to show you both something.”
The alarm bells had already begun to go off in (Y/N)’s head, but there was something about his statement and the glint in his eyes that immediately gave her pause. “And then you’ll give him to us?”
Instead of answering, Director Hayward crossed the room and opened a glass door for them to enter. “Please, just come with me.”
(Y/N) and Wanda exchanged a distrustful look before stepping through the doorway and into what appeared to be an observation room comprised of floor-to-ceiling glass windows and a set of armchairs. The buzzing and whirring of power tools nearby quickly drew (Y/N)’s attention, prompting her to walk up to the wall of glass and look down; the scene below reminded her of a mechanic’s garage, with four floodlights illuminating a handful of S.W.O.R.D. personnel dressed in protective gear, who were working to dismantle five separate sections of machinery as armed agents stood guard. The machinery’s unusual shade of maroon and uniquely-shaped panels of silver instantly drew her suspicion, and it only took her a moment to come to the sickening realization that what they were viewing was Vision’s unceremoniously dismembered corpse.
“Oh my God…” (Y/N) covered her mouth and stared down at the grisly scene below in horror, her stomach churning at the desecration of her friend’s body and her heart sinking when she caught a glimpse of Wanda’s confusion in the reflection of the glass as she took a step closer.
“What is this? Why are you showing us this?”
(Y/N) glanced over her shoulder to see a visibly puzzled Director Hayward’s head tilt to the side as he slowly answered, “Because you asked to see it.”
Tears prickled in (Y/N)’s eyes while Wanda looked back down into the laboratory; the color slowly drained from the younger woman’s face and her lip trembled with emotion when one of the S.W.O.R.D. scientists moved and revealed the decapitated head of her lover. A quiet sob escaped her and her hands came up to press against the glass, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from the synthezoid’s corpse. “Stop…stop…stop it!” She whirled around to face the director. “What are you doing to him?”
“We’re dismantling the most sophisticated, sentient weapon ever made.”
Wanda’s eyes filled with tears as she insistently shook her head. “But Vision’s not a weapon. You can’t do this!”
Unfazed by her emotional reaction, Director Hayward’s lips pursed together in an obvious attempt to appear sympathetic. “In fact, it is our legal and ethical obligation.”
“You know, I could’ve sworn that Vision was created using stolen vibranium from Wakanda, not America.” A surge of white-hot indignation filled (Y/N) as she faced the director and crossed her arms over her chest. “But what the hell do I know? I was only there the day that Ultron bought that vibranium off of Ulysses Klaue in Johannesburg.”
“The Vision signed the Sokovia Accords in 2016. With it, he established his personhood and shortly thereafter took the necessary steps to becoming a naturalized citizen of the United States of America.”
“Seriously, that’s what you’re going with?! You know as well as I do that the Sokovia Accords are currently in the process of being repealed, and all I have to do is call up the King of Wakanda to-”
“I just wanna bury him,” Wanda forcefully interrupted their escalating face off. “That’s all I want.”
Director Hayward’s hazel-colored eyes narrowed as he studied Wanda’s grief-stricken features. “Are you sure?”
A look of incredulity flashed in Wanda’s eyes and while (Y/N)’s brow furrowed in befuddlement, the younger woman recoiled away from the director. “Excuse me?”
“What exactly are you getting at, Director?” (Y/N) demanded.
“Not everyone has the kind of power that could bring their soulmate back online, Mrs. (Y/L/N).” There was a strange cadence in the older man’s voice that quickly put her on edge; seemingly realizing the strangeness of his statement, Director Hayward rearranged his features into a more apologetic expression. “Forgive me. Back to life.”
Wanda shook her head. “No, I-I can’t do that. It’s…that’s not why I’m here.”
“Okay. But I cannot allow you two to take three-billion dollars’ worth of vibranium just to put it in the ground.” While the younger woman turned back around to look down into the bustling laboratory below, (Y/N) paced the floor and shook her head in incredulity. “So, the best I can do is let you say goodbye to him here.”
Wanda’s hands moved to rest against the window as she softly replied, “He’s all that I have.”
“Well, that’s just it, Wanda. He isn’t yours.”
(Y/N) opened her mouth to denounce the director’s callous words, but several things caught her attention all at the same time: the look of almost eager anticipation on Director Hayward’s face, the reflection of Wanda’s grief-stricken expression in the glass and the scarlet-hued energy beginning to emanate from the palms of her hands. With only a split-second advantage, (Y/N) spun away from the windows and shielded her head with her arms just as the glass shattered in a deafening explosion; the S.W.O.R.D. agents screamed and ran for cover as they were pelted with fragmented glass, and she could hear the armed guards collectively ready their weapons. (Y/N) lowered her arms in time to watch Wanda wave her glowing crimson hands and descend into the laboratory, seemingly transfixed by the remains of her deceased lover and unaware of the semi-automatic guns pointed directly at her.
“Wanda, no!” (Y/N) hurried over to the very edge of the floor and, ignoring the surge of fear in her stomach that came from her long-standing fear of heights, leaned forward for a closer vantage point.
“Fall back,” Director Hayward ordered, and the guards exchanged cautious glances with one another. “It’s fine. Let her see for herself.”
After a tense moment, the armed guards reluctantly lowered their weapons and steered clear as Wanda slowly approached the table containing Vision’s severed and lifeless head. Watching the younger woman hesitantly stretch her hand out and hover her glowing palm over the crater in her lover’s forehead, (Y/N)’s heart clenched in sympathy and she found herself once again cursing Thanos; although the Mad Titan was dead and gone, with his quest to destroy the universe successfully thwarted and the Infinity Stones returned to their rightful places, the overwhelming pain he’d caused them all would remain, and none would suffer under the weight of their grief more than Wanda Maximoff. By the time she’d reached her mid-twenties, Wanda had already lost her parents, her brother, her country, her mentor and her lover and while the rest of the Avengers could turn to their loved ones for support, she was entirely alone. It’s not fair, (Y/N) thought to herself as she watched the younger woman leave Vision’s side and walk through one of the laboratory’s emergency exits, she’s lost so much already and now she’s being denied the one thing that could possibly give her closure.
“I truly am sorry for your loss, Mrs. (Y/L/N), but seeing as he was a fully sentient synthezoid, I believe that the Vision would not only understand but fully support our good work here.”
The director’s words caused (Y/N)’s jaw to clench in anger and her carefully crafted control over her emotions to finally slip; whirling around to face him, she stood tall and unflinchingly stared him down, her fury only growing the longer she studied the artificial sympathy written across his face. “His name was Vision, just Vision, and you don’t know a damn thing about him. You’re a cruel, egotistical, half-baked warmonger who’d love nothing more than to bring that body down there back online to use as a weapon against anyone S.W.O.R.D. deems a threat.” She snorted in derision as the older man pursed his lips in irritation. “You’re no better than S.H.I E.L.D., Director, and you know as well as I do what’ll happen to your little chop shop down there when the Avengers find out what you’re up to.”
“What Avengers? A third of your group of circus freaks are off-world and a third are dead, leaving a half a dozen powerless and mentally-unstable vigilantes to burden us with their problems,” Director Hayward shot back, and the carefully-constructed façade he’d worn since they’d burst into his office finally fell away to reveal a snide smirk. “So I suggest that you stick to writing books and let the adults take over the protection of this planet.”
(Y/N) took a calculated step forward and stared unflinchingly into the director’s eyes for a moment before finally speaking, her tone calm and collected in contrast to his clear vindictiveness. “Believe it or not, I know what my limits are; after all, what can a best-selling historical-fiction novelist do besides make a few phone calls and write a scathing op-ed in a prestigious newspaper?” A humorless smile curved her lips upwards. “But you’re wrong about us ‘circus freaks,’ Director. Not only does Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes possess the highest security clearance that this country has to offer and is tasked with investigating those that the executive branch of our government suspects of breaking both national and international laws, the King of Wakanda has made it his personal mission to ensure that not an ounce of vibranium leaves his country’s sovereign borders; I’m sure that both men will be interested to learn all about your so-called legal and ethical obligation to horde stolen vibranium and how to attempted to goad a mourning Avenger into weaponizing it for you.”
Director Hayward visibly paled but still managed an incredulous scoff. “Is that a threat, Mrs. (Y/L/N)?”
“No, it’s a promise.” (Y/N) strode past the fuming director and through the observation room’s doorway, the shattered glass crunching beneath her high heels as she walked towards the office’s closed door; she grasped the door’s handle but paused, glancing over her shoulder to give Director Hayward one final glare. “Good luck, Director. You’re going to need it.”
Opening the door with more force than necessary, (Y/N) exited the director’s office and stormed down the hallways until she located the lobby, ignoring the security guard’s feeble farewell as she blinked away her tears of frustration and hurried to the front doors. She emerged out into the bright Floridian sun and was forced to shield her face with her hand in order to scan the packed parking lot for Wanda; spotting a burgundy Buick turning out onto the street and catching sight of the driver’s bold scarlet-hued hair, her heart sank into her stomach and she mentally kicked herself for not being quicker. Now she can add my name to the lengthy list of people who’ve failed Wanda Maximoff, (Y/N) thought as her shoulders dropped in dejection. While she pulled her cell phone out of her purse and texted Stephen Strange’s number, she tried not to linger on the memory of her friend’s heartbroken expression and the pain that had filled her green eyes while she grappled with the agony of losing Vision for a second time.
(Y/N): All finished here, eagerly anticipating a portal to get me the hell out of this godforsaken state S. Strange/The Wizard: Sounds like it went about as well as I’d anticipated… (Y/N): Oh, you have no idea ☹
A sparking orange portal appeared beside (Y/N) and whirled itself open to reveal her living room. Ignoring the handful of S.W.O.R.D. employees that were gawking from inside the building’s headquarters, she stepped through the portal and breathed a sigh of relief when the portal closed itself behind her, leaving her standing in her unruly but blessedly private home. They’d accepted Nick Fury’s offer of living in a temporary safehouse while they healed from their traumatic ordeals and acclimated themselves to civilian life, which meant that for the past week, their home was steadily piling high with taped-up moving boxes while they waited for Fury to finish making the final necessary arrangements for their new house; they’d still maintain ownership of their Brooklyn home, of course, but for the next several months, the (Y/L/N)-Rogers family would be calling the peaceful town of Rockport, Maine their home.
“We’re in here, sunshine,” Steve’s voice emanated from the kitchen. After tossing her purse onto the nearest armchair and kicking off her high heels, (Y/N) padded into the kitchen but froze halfway through the doorway at the unusual sight that she was met with; her husband was perched on a stool at the kitchen island with the sleeve of his shirt rolled up, his nose wrinkled in displeasure as a floating syringe punctured the skin of his small bicep, and Stephen Strange, dressed in full Master of the Mystic Arts regalia, was carefully manipulating the hovering syringe with magic as his blue-green eyes narrowed in concentration. “Bruce dropped off my last round of vaccinations; today’s Tdap, Varicella, MMR and an annual flu shot, so I’m feeling particularly pin-cushioney.”
“Well, I think you’ve been a very brave pin cushion, sweetheart.” With a sympathetic smile, (Y/N) crossed the room to where Steve was seated and kissed his cheek. “And all of your Band-Aids are very cute.”
Steve huffed in exaggerated dissatisfaction and Stephen’s lip curled up into his signature smirk; the sorcerer willed the empty syringe away and magically applied another Paw Patrol Band-Aid onto the former super-soldier’s bicep. “Just think, Rogers, in two weeks you’ll finally be able to be around your daughter without wearing a surgical mask, and your de-serumed life will officially begin.”
“Definitely something to look forward to,” Steve conceded, biting back a wince as he wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s waist and looked at her expectantly. “How’d your meeting with Director Hayward go?” She grimaced at his question and his expression fell. “That bad, huh?”
(Y/N) shrugged half-heartedly. “Wanda at least showed up but after seeing S.W.O.R.D.’s work firsthand, I wish she hadn’t come at all.”
While she recalled their contentious meeting with Director Hayward, she looked between both men and was struck by their differing reactions to her story; Steve was rightfully enraged on Wanda’s behalf for being denied a sliver of closure and beyond livid when he learned of the organization’s plans for the remains of his former teammate, but Stephen was primarily focused on Director Hayward’s comments regarding Wanda’s powers and the young woman’s momentary loss of control. (Y/N) arched a brow at the sorcerer’s piqued interest but didn’t address it, drawing the conclusion that as a Master of the Mystic Arts, he was naturally curious about powerful beings and their unique skill sets. They were both disgusted by the director’s callous behavior towards her after Wanda departed, with Steve’s jaw clenching tight and Stephen’s eyes narrowing as she spoke, and they both nodded in approval at her biting response to his cold-heartedness.
“I’ll give T’Challa and Rhodey a call to let them know what Hayward’s up to, but I’m afraid that that’s all I can really do.” (Y/N) let out a defeated sigh and twisted her wedding ring around her finger. “Fury made it clear that we can’t afford to draw any unusual attention to ourselves for the time being.”
Steve looked down at the marble countertop as guilt filled his azure eyes. “Because of me.”
“Steve…” Cupping his cheek, she gently coaxed him to look over at her and offered him a small smile of understanding. “After a lifetime spent prioritizing others, you finally chose to prioritize yourself and that shouldn’t make you feel an ounce of guilt. We may not be able to help Wanda ourselves, but we can pass along some very valuable information to the people who will.”
While the former super-soldier returned her smile with one of his own and gave her a chaste kiss, the sorcerer shrugged and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “All I can say is that it’s a real shame this can’t all be solved with a sling-ring, a portal and a little bit of grand theft.”
A soft whimpering began to emanate from the baby monitor resting atop the microwave, drawing (Y/N) and Steve’s immediate attention. “It must be time for Cari’s bottle; I’ll go get her while you start prepping it?” She hummed in agreement, turning to retrieve a clean bottle and a container of formula from the cabinet while Steve approached Stephen with his hand outstretched. “Thank you again for all your help today, Doc.”
“It’s nothing, really. In fact, I should be the one thanking you.” Stephen shook Steve’s hand and chuckled. “I don’t exactly get many opportunities to put my medical degrees to good use, so thanks for that.” After grabbing the baby monitor and donning a fresh surgical mask, Steve left the kitchen and Stephen turned his attention to (Y/N). “I wouldn’t worry too much about Wanda, (Y/N). I’ll keep an eye on her, check in from time to time and make sure she’s doing all right.”
(Y/N) screwed the cap back onto the full bottle and shook it as she studied the older man standing before her, unable to shake the feeling that there was more to his reasoning than selflessness. “You’re concerned about her powers.”
“…I’m more so intrigued by her powers; after all, reckless experimentation with an Infinity Stone somehow imbued her with enough power to nearly kill Thanos and made her one of the most formidable beings on this planet.” Stephen’s quaking fingers withdrew his sling-ring from his pocket and slipped it on with a half-smile. “As the Master of the New York Sanctum Sanctorum, it’s my responsibility to keep a list of every powerful or supernatural person in my general vicinity and after what you’ve just told me, Wanda Maximoff’s shot to the very top of it.”
Biting her lip, (Y/N) watched as the sorcerer waved his hand and created a sparking orange portal that opened into the sanctum’s foyer, contemplating his words before countering them. “I understand. Just don’t…don’t forget that even with all that power, she’s still just a person, Stephen. Promise me?”
“I won’t,” Stephen solemnly vowed, taking a step into the sanctum and turning to give her a small wave. “See you around, (Y/N).”
She smiled and waved back while he closed the portal and in an instant, she was left alone in her kitchen with her daughter’s bottle of formula clutched in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she worked to ground herself and avoid replaying the memories of Wanda’s losses and heartbreaks in her mind, but her effort was for naught; she recalled Clint carrying Pietro Maximoff’s body onto the helicarrier after evacuating Novi Grad, Wanda huddled in the corner of a tiny prison cell with a collar fastened around her neck, Vision using his last words to reassure his distraught lover as she used her powers to destroy him, the anguished cry that echoed throughout the Wakandan clearing when Thanos used the Time Stone to bring Vision back and rip the Mind Stone out of the android’s forehead, the emptiness that remained in Wanda’s eyes throughout Tony and Natasha’s funerals…
“Everything okay out there, baby?”
Shaken out of her memories, (Y/N) wiped away her tears and took another breath before calling back, “I was just seeing Stephen out; I’ll be right there!”
While she made her way through the house to their daughter’s nursery and beamed down at the cooing infant as she took her into her arms and sat down in the room’s rocking chair to feed her her bottle, (Y/N) took solace in the feeling of Steve’s arm draping around her shoulders and the adoration that illuminated Carina’s face. It isn’t fair, she thought again to herself as she absentmindedly hummed the Sokovian lullaby that had been taught to her by Wanda years before, it isn’t fair that we’ve gotten our happily ever after and Wanda’s all alone. With all she’d seen and done throughout the years, it would be foolish not to believe that there wasn’t some sort of higher power out there, so as she was surrounded by her beloved husband and daughter, (Y/N) sent a silent but earnest wish to that power that while she healed from her past traumas, Wanda Maximoff would finally find her own lasting happiness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: All I want is for Wanda to be happy, but I guess the universe continues to have other plans for her :/ Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!
Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5
Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist
Stumblin' In Book VI: "Endgame" Masterlist
Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @fanficfandomlove @momc95 @savedbystyle @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @mads-weasley @username23345 @crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @crowleysqueenofhell @mary1raven @groovy-lady @ljej95 @toostrangerkid @prettysbliss
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Down the Road (Agatha Harkness x Reader)
Summary: your summon to the Witches’ Road unexpectedly reconnects you with the witch that left you behind
Warnings: angsty, anger between R and A, fight scene, injury (A), flashback to past abandonment, R is lowkey into dark magic but in denial, lovers to hurt strangers 😔 whatever will we do
A/N: I used a few different requests in my inbox as inspo. It can also be read as a continuation of Closer. I’m planning on a part two but am open to suggestions on where to take this next! Enjoy 🖤
Tag List: @nyx-aira @crystalline-possession @clxwnnyy @lilibeth-tate @highgaytohell @amethyst-bitch @shinkomiii @agnessharknes @academiagaymess @midnight-lestrange
A summon to the Witches’ Road seemed like exactly what you needed right now. You’d been keeping to yourself these days, staying out of trouble. But it’d been too long since you’d had some excitement and your hands were itching for something new. You were going in blind, but that’s always fun, right?
At least that’s what you’d thought. When the smoke of your white magic disappeared, you were greeted with the sight of your new ragtag coven. You counted four. Where’s the fifth?
“Hello,” you grinned at the youngest, a pale boy with dark hair. “I’m Y/N, I believe someone called?”
“Y/N? As in awesome-moon-powers-Y/N?” The boy exclaimed, grabbing the arm of the tallest one, who seemed equally excited.
You laughed. “I didn’t realize my reputation preceded me so much.”
“Are you kidding?” Now it was the tall one exclaiming. “You’re like, so cool. Incorporating the moon into your power? It makes you the jack of all trades. Healing, light manipulation, water control. I can’t believe you’re here!”
“Moon magic?” The older woman seemed sort of dazed. “I’d heard stories…but have never seen it for myself.”
Before you could respond to the group’s praise, a familiar voice rang out. “What the hell are all of you harping ab-”
You turned around at the same time as footsteps behind you halted in their tracks. You felt your heart drop as you realized why the voice was familiar. It couldn’t be.
Agatha Harkness stood in front of you in all her glory. Gone was the young witch you had known, in her place a woman exuding power and elegance. Both of you eyed each other, surprise and apprehension on your faces.
•••
Your last memory of Agatha was that smirk of hers. You two had started as rivals but a trip that you went on together changed that. You grew closer and animosity turned to friendship, which turned into something much more. So many nights of you sneaking into each other’s rooms, honing your skills, and eventually using your hands to explore each other.
On one of your many visits to the woods for spell practice, the two of you encountered a shapeshifter. You and Agatha fought it off but it forced you to use the full extent of your powers. You were young and had only just started to incorporate the moon into your witchcraft. The fight drained you completely, leaving you weak.
At home, you were checked into the infirmary. News spread quickly of the battle; Agatha, being Evanora’s daughter, caught attention easily. Her power had been a topic of dispute within the coven for some time. You resented the others for how they treated her, especially her own mother. The parts of Agatha that made them turn away were the same you admired undyingly. You loved her.
You had been drifting in and out of consciousness for hours before you finally woke up to see Agatha at your bedside. “They want a formal questioning,” she had told you softly, her hand holding yours. In response to your furrowed brow, Agatha brushed the hair from your forehead. “It’s nothing serious. I’ll be back before you know it.”
You sighed, knowing Evanora took every chance she could to hurt Agatha. “Give them hell anyway.”
“You know I will.” Agatha had smirked, and with a soft kiss, she was gone. Unbeknownst to you, it was the last time you were going to see her.
You woke up the next day, surrounded by the early morning darkness. It was eerily silent; you’d expected Agatha to be back by now. Your strength had returned, and you searched for Agatha everywhere you could think of. No one was around, every room empty.
Eventually you had come to the clearing and saw the husks of the other witches. Their bodies surrounded a post, covered in scorch marks from what you could only assume to be Agatha. You felt yourself freeze as the truth dawned on you. It was more than questions, it was a sentencing. Yet Agatha had obviously survived.
Hot tears had filled in your eyes and a lump formed in your throat before you had collapsed into sobs. She’d survived, of course she had. But she hadn’t come for you. Agatha, the girl you loved without question, whom you had embraced completely. The girl who encouraged you with your magic, the one you’d helped with controlling her own. She had left you.
Over time, the hurt faded but it never quite left. You never looked back, not at her, nor the version of you that broke that day in the clearing. You drew from the pain and let it fuel your ambition. As you travelled and your power grew, you’d heard stories about Agatha. How she’d honed those skills you’d practiced together into something to be both admired and feared. But her betrayal was enough for you to never want to seek her out again.
•••
You blinked, snapping out of your reverie.
“Y/N was the other name on the list? I can’t believe you wanted to leave her behind.” The boy’s voice piped up from behind you.
You scoffed. “Don’t be so surprised.” There was no hiding the snark in your voice, and you saw Agatha’s face drop right before you turned on your heel. “This was a mistake,” you muttered, walking away from the group to recollect yourself.
The rest of the group watched as you left. “What did she mean by that?” Alice hissed at Agatha. Everyone looked at her expectantly.
“Well,” Agatha grinned sheepishly. “We may have some…uh…unfinished business if you will.”
Jenn rolled her eyes. “Whatever, you have to make her stay. We need her to do this.”
Agatha groaned as the others nodded and nudged her towards the area you’d retreated to. But the annoyance was an act. Seeing your name on the list had stopped her in her tracks, bringing back memories she’d tried to bury. And now here you were, and she couldn’t hide from the swirl of emotions within her like she’s used to doing. Her heart still ached for you but it was unlikely you’d want anything to do with her.
She sauntered over to where you were sitting on a log by yourself. Standing close to you, she had a moment to take in your appearance. Somehow you were even more beautiful than she remembered. Time had clearly treated you well, and Agatha found her gaze catching on your features as she took in the sight of the face that haunted her memories.
She cleared her throat. “You can’t leave now that you’re here. The Road. It won’t let you.”
You looked up at her from where you sat. “You think I don’t know that?” You snapped. “I wouldn’t have come if I knew it was you.”
That stung. “Well it’s nice to see you again too, doll.” Agatha sneered.
“Oh save it, Agatha.” You stood up, eye level with the other witch. “I think we both remember who left who. Don’t play dumb now.”
“You act like I made that decision by flipping a coin. You don’t know the half of it.” The nonchalant attitude Agatha had been putting up was slipping away, revealing the raw emotion underneath.
You shook your head and turned your back to her. “Forget it. I’m already going to have to suffer through the rest of this thing anyway. I don’t need some shitty explanation from you.”
But Agatha wasn’t one to take that for an answer. She grabbed your arm, forcing you to turn back and face her. “No,” she hissed. “You don’t get to do what they did. Don’t repaint me as callous because I was never like that with you.”
You clenched your jaw, feeling a lump forming at the back of your throat. You couldn’t help it - the hurt you’d buried for this long was coming back up, and it was as sharp as the day it’d arrived.
“Callous?” You laughed humourlessly. “No, leaving me behind wasn’t callous. It was cruel. You’re cruel.”
You could see Agatha’s cheeks flushed in anger, and her mouth opened with another rebuttal when a shriek rang through the air back where the rest of the coven was standing. Both of you jumped, and Agatha dropped your arm.
“What the hell was that?” You shouted at Agatha over the shrieks, which had grown louder.
“Salem Seven ring a bell?” Agatha snarked, but her eyes were filled with fear.
“What the fuck, Agatha.” You all but yelled as the two of you began running back. Somehow you’d never encountered any of the Seven before but that didn’t mean you wanted to start now. They were definitely pissed at Agatha, but it was unlikely that they were happy with you either, as the only other survivor of their mothers’ massacre.
The shrieks were coming from both the coven and a dark, hooded figure who you assumed was one of the Seven floating above them. “Run!” The boy screamed, and everyone began sprinting down the road.
Suddenly you heard Agatha cry out and a thud. You turned to see Agatha on the ground, the hooded figure hovering over her. You stared incredulously as Agatha put her arms up to shield herself, but made no other move to put up a defence. What is she doing?
The Salem Seven witch lunged towards Agatha and you quickly shot a beam at her, making her fall to the ground. As you ran over, you saw the witch was already stirring, not quite dead yet. You began reciting a spell that’d become second nature for you now, your hands falling into the familiar motions.
Agatha watched in awe as you drew the many surrounding shadows towards the figure on the ground. You made a sharp movement with your hand and suddenly the figure that was beginning to rise from the ground was being surrounded by dark tendrils.
Muffled screams could be heard as the shadows twisted tighter and tighter, until the figure fell limp to the ground. You weren’t done, however. Another practiced movement of your hands and you watched as the shadows engulfed the witch, dragging her downwards into the ground until she disappeared like vapour.
With the threat gone, you rushed to Agatha’s side. You could see a gash on her arm where her sleeve had torn, blood seeping out of the wound. “What were you thinking? Why didn’t you fight back?” Anger mixed with worry as you searched Agatha’s face for answers.
“Careful there, Y/N. Wouldn’t want to look like you care.” When you didn’t indulge her teasing, the other witch sighed. “Why do you think I’m here?” She asked, gesturing around her. She saw the confusion in your face and waved her hand dismissively. “Long story doll, I won’t bore you.”
Typical. Even all those years ago Agatha would opt to keep you in the dark rather than explain herself. “Fine.” You said, helping her stand. “Let’s find somewhere to sit so I can patch you up.”
You turned to see the rest of the group standing nearby, a mixture of awe and apprehension across their faces. The boy seemed the most awestruck. “How did you do that?” He exclaimed. “Where did she go?”
The oldest of the group spoke before you could. “The shadow realm.” She answered, eyeing you warily. “No one should be doing that.”
“Why don’t we um, find a place to sleep? While Y/N takes care of Agatha.” The tall one spoke now, gesturing for the rest of the group to follow her and leave you and Agatha alone. You watched as they hurried away, the short one throwing a worried glance back at you.
“So, shadow work huh?” Agatha spoke lowly as you examined her arm. “Didn’t realize you’d begun dabbling in my side of things.” Her tone was playful but probing.
You turned your head sharply towards her. “I haven’t. It’s not the same thing.”
Agatha chuckled darkly. “Oh isn’t it? Don’t get so high and mighty now Y/N. I’ve heard things. That good girl persona of yours may be working on everyone else, but not me.”
You didn’t answer, instead pulling her arm into the moonlight coming in through the trees. At your silence, Agatha kept going. “‘Oh wow! Moon girl is so amazing and talented! She can do anything!’” She said mockingly. “All admiration when you’re doing what they like. But you saw the look on their faces just now. Everybody switches up when we start talking real power. The kind you and I have.”
Okay yes, you could admit that the shadow stuff is a bit iffy. But it wasn’t anywhere close to as iffy as using the Darkhold, like you’d heard Agatha did. That was different.
“All I’m saying,” Agatha continued, as she watched you weave the light with your hands to heal her open wound. “Is that we’re much bigger than them. Than this. We’re destined for domination, Y/N.”
You shook your head. Years later and it was still all about power with her. Grand plans and limited following-through were classic Agatha. Enough. You stood up, Agatha’s arm now healed. “You’re talking about powers you had, and that I have.” You said coldly, taking satisfaction in the way her jaw clenched at your words. “Maybe focus on getting those back first.”
With that, you turned on your heel and stormed away.
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