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Dragonseed Chapter 1 : First Night

18+ | 6.4k | Daemon Targaryen X Female Reader | dangerous, sex starved, raunchy Daemon | virgin reader, first time sex, first night / prima noctae, big breast reader, daemon is a boob man in this, non con, non consensual, P in V, much groping, lots of typical Daemon cussing, starts out rough but reader enjoys it in the end, I just woke up with this in my head and needed to get it out.

Daemon has not been satisfied with his wife Rhaenyra lately. Frustrated and sexually deprived, he goes searching in the village at the base of the Dragonmont for a woman that might catch his eye. That's when he comes upon you, a beautiful, young dragonseed, ripe for the taking, whether you like it or not. I came up with the idea for this after reading page 914 in Fire and Blood. In the show, they recruit Valyrian blooded bastards to ride the unclaimed dragons from King’s Landing, but in the book there is actually a fishing village at the base of the island where Dragonstone is located. The men of House Targaryen were known to seek pleasure among the commonfolk there quite often, claiming their ‘first night’ rights and sowing ‘dragonseeds.’

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 On AO3

Rhaenyra has been an insufferable cunt as of late. First she had wallowed in the death of her son, Lucerys, which he understood to an extent. They were at war though and Daemon could not excuse her absence at council. There simply was no time for mourning when the Iron Throne was at stake.

When Rhaenyra finally returned to the painted table, she was in shambles, a scared, frail shadow of the strong Targaryen woman he’d known and cared for. It had taken all he had to hold back the grimace that fought its way out at the sight of her tear stained cheeks. They were of royal blood, Valyrian blood, and she should be ashamed to show such weakness openly, especially as the future queen.

She spoke of retribution for her fallen boy, demanding the life of the Hightower bitch’s second mongrel son, Aemond. Daemon had offered to fly to King’s Landing right away to avenge his wife, but none would take any part in his plan. So he did as he often did, connived in the shadows, plotting murder so that a one-eyed Targaryen princeling might die to replace the son Rhaenyra had lost.

But, it seemed nothing was ever good enough for the so-called Realm’s Delight. No act of loyalty, nor obeisance, nor love, nor retribution would ever amount to anything in his wife’s eyes. She did not seem to trust a word he said lately, viewing him always with thinly veiled scrutiny and scorning him from her bed every night. Perhaps she had only been interested in using him to solidify her claim as queen after all. The irony was not lost on him considering how badly he’d wanted the throne in the past. It all left Daemon feeling restless, his blood running hot with the need to satisfy his carnal urges. Admittedly, there were not many women within the confines of the castle, save for the servants, who were not especially comely. So, he ventured forth to the village below the Dragonmont, where farmers and fishermen lived around the now thriving port. There he walked the streets, drank in the tavern among the commonfolk, hoping to chance upon a suitable woman. Any fair of face with a willing cunt would satisfy his needs, but he was hoping to find someone of note, a beauty worth his seed.

So far, he has found nothing but mediocrity and it does nothing to stiffen his cock.

As he exits the tavern already deep in his cups, given the position of the sun it’s sometime past mid-day, and there is a celebration underway. A flutist is playing a lively tune as men and women alike dance together in the square. His eyes dart around, taking the scene in slowly considering his relatively inebriated state, until he catches a flash of blue.

And that is when he sees you. You are ravishing in light blue silk, a crown of yellow wildflowers upon your silvery-gold head of hair. Daemon finds himself completely enamored as he takes in your fetching features; the big blue eyes, your proud nose, those luscious lips, and the full swell of your breast has him reeling.

Daemon finds you a sight for sore eyes, a vision of purity and class coupled most gladly with the bosom of a well coveted whore. From the look of it, you are the bride, clutching arms with some young pup who is likely to be your new husband.

It was well known to Daemon that the towns below the mount were seeded with Valyrian blood. Going back two hundred years when Aenar Targaryen first arrived with his dragons, when the house began to practice the tradition of ‘First Night.’ Whereas a lord or king has the privilege over the smallfolk, to bed any bride first on their wedding night. As a result, it was not uncommon to see pale hair mixed in among the common, many having been bred within the Targaryen line for generations.

Daemon has never claimed such a right before, but he is inclined to command it at the sight of you. A wicked smirk begins to work it’s way up his lips as he approaches. He can’t believe his good fortune, that such a shining flower of a maiden was waiting for him, so close by, and that he just happened to stumble upon you at just the right moment to claim you.

As the King-Consort to be closes the distance, many begin to notice his presence with a look of awe and excitement on their faces. For on Dragonstone, the Targaryens were considered closer to the gods than other folk, and were esteemed as such. Brides that were chosen were considered blessed and envied by all. Many of these women were taken care of well by their benefactors, being endowed with luxurious gifts of jewelry, fine silks, and even bequeathed titles for land.

The children born of dragonseed were celebrated on Dragonstone and it is clear to Daemon by the fine silk of your wedding gown that you have been attended well by your Valyrian patron, whoever it may be.

He walks purposefully towards your merry, dancing form and takes hold of your arm to still your movement. When you look up at him, he cannot help but feel disappointed when your face drops, a look of despair crossing your face as you intrinsically know what he desires of you. Daemon had hoped you’d be pleased to attract his attention, that you’d consider it a godsend as most would. It is merely a minor blow to his ego that won’t stop him from taking your maidenhead.

Silence hangs in the air and before words can even be exchanged, an older woman with dark gray hair advances forth to him. She claims to be your mother and apologizes for your insolence.

‘The blood runs too strong in her, m’lord,’ she grovels with deference, bowing her head with every word.

Good he thinks to himself I like them feisty. Daemon grins, glaring sideways at the young man next to you. He would be considered handsome by most standards, but he is green, just a silly boy without disposition to even protect his alluring little wife. He intends to ruin you for any other fellow tonight, so not even your juvenile husband will ever be able to satisfy you again.

He snickers with satisfaction as your mother offers to escort the pair of you to a suitable location where he might take up his rights. Daemon can’t help but soak up every curve of your face and body like a predator eying up his next meal as she speaks, but you look on the verge of tears, ready to break at the thought of being torn away from your silly little wedding festivities.

“Might I freshen up first, My Prince,” you say, your civility barely held in tact through grit teeth.

“King,” he reminds you, furling his brow. This girl will be nothing but trouble. It will be best to break her swiftly. He then shakes his head non-nonchalantly. “And there is no need. You are already quite pristine and lovely in your wedding gown. I will take my claim now.”

You fluster, your cheeks growing impossibly red with embarrassment at not just the mention of his intent, but your own indignity as well. “My King,” you acknowledge his correction. “Allow us to ready the chambers for a man of your caliber. My marital bed is far too simple…” you continue prattling on. He isn’t really listening anymore though, instead focusing on the plump of your lower lip and how it might feel wrapped around his cock.

He also can’t help but notice how you sound much more proper than your mother, than most commonfolk really, and wonders if your Valyrian contributor has paid for your tutelage as well. You strike him as someone who has been overindulged in your life, treated as a lady of distinction. It would certainly explain your bratty attitude.

“I am not against the amenities of the commonfolk,” he offers indifferently. “As long as there is a clean surface, it will do.” It’s not like he hadn’t fucked in some of the filthiest brothels on the Street of Silk back in King’s Landing. At least there weren’t many rats in Dragonstone.

‘Oi, aell take ye to me own dwelling, m’lord,’ your mother is spouting now. ‘It aes clean, Ae wash the linens m’self.’

“Nonsense.” A man with well-kept clothes is now stepping forward and Daemon believes he recognizes him as the innkeep. He offers his finest suite for the union of Daemon and his freshly wed dragonseed maiden.

Gods, it’s good to be king.

Daemon can’t help but chuckle smugly at the look of absolute dread on your face. You think you’re so special, too important to be fucked by a king apparently. He was going to enjoy showing you otherwise.

His grip has not left your upper arm and it now tightens as he nods to the innkeep, accepting the proposition for a room. The man leads the way and Daemon follows, dragging you along with him and reveling in the way you peer back with sad lamb eyes at your newly minted husband. There is something so deliciously satisfying in tearing you away from that whelp of a lad, in taking what belongs to another simply because he can. It spoke to the primal side of him, the dragon within that would snatch up whatever it pleased without concern for morality.

He desires you now and he would soon have you whether you liked it or not. Rhaenyra had cowed him for far too long and now he’s going to reclaim his manhood, his brutal nature, by taking your bloody virtue on the head of his cock. For the bedroom was just as fierce as any battlefield and Daemon was a seasoned veteran of both arts.

Daemon’s stride is long and resolved as he jerks you closer to his side. You’re reluctant to be close to him, but finally heed the warning and match his pace as you both enter the tavern which also serves as the inn. Upstairs, the balding innkeeper opens the door and ushers Daemon into his freely provided chambers, with his unwilling maiden shuffling in beside him.

The room is quite nice for what it is. Accommodations for peasant folk were typically a mix of ramshackle furniture and blankets with patched holes in them, if the mattress had linens at all. This chamber is simple, but the furniture looks as though it were hand-crafted in town. The bed is very obviously carved by a skilled carpenter and topped with a red blanket as though it were actually a fine establishment.

“This will do nicely,” he nods to the innkeep. Even though Daemon knows he is not expected to offer compensation as an esteemed guest, he let’s you go from his grasp momentarily to fish a coin from his purse, and places it in the man’s hand. “My thanks,” Daemon offers plainly with a dismissive nod, declaring his desire to be left alone with his prize.

“My pleasure, My King,” the innkeeper says with an overzealous bow as he closes the door behind him, finally leaving Daemon alone with you.

You stand there looking like a stunned baby bird who has just fallen from the nest. Your hands are clasped together in front of your stomach as though that might defend you from his designs.

He smirks at you with a pointed laugh as he draws close. Daemon apprises you thoroughly, circling you like a beast as he takes in every sign of weakness, every swallow, every carefully withheld whimper.

“You know what will happen, girl?” he finally breaks the silence as he comes to a stop right behind you.

“Y-yes,” you answer unenthusiastically. The tremulous tone of your voice both excites and amuses him.

Daemon’s hands reach out to your waist then, finding the laces that hold your bodice tightly in place and he begins to untie them. You turn rapidly on your heels to face him, trying in vain to halt his advances. He can’t help but growl at your defiance as he tugs you against him, his grip like a biting jaw on your pliant body.

Grinning wickedly, he glares into your eyes, leaning in so closely that his forehead is against yours and his hot breath is in your face.

“I’m going to take you, little one,” his voice is filled with violence, his tone rough and dangerous. “You will give yourself readily or we can take the difficult path. But, I promise you would not like how brutish I can be. Especially considering how sore you will be once I take your maidenhood.”

Your expression contorts with hatred and insubordination as resignation tries to take root, but ultimately you refuse to budge. He has not broken your spirit yet, but he knows he soon will. Daemon hopes to avoid being truly cruel to you, that is unless you remind him of his fucking wife by being so gods damned obstinate. Then he might just be forced to take his impotence out on you.

“Or maybe…” he continues with a sardonic twitch of his brow. “Maybe since you’re behaving like such an ungrateful bitch, I’ll just fuck you hard and deep until I spill seed in your unspoiled little cunt. I might even keep you here all day, perhaps all night. I have not wet my cock for at least a moon’s length and I am wont to gorge myself in you.”

Your breath hitches at his menacing coercion and tears begin to well in your eyes. It doesn’t bother him, in fact he thinks you might look even more attractive when you’re crying. Most importantly, you nod subtly as you finally understand the truth of your situation, that he has conquered your rebuffs and brought you low before him. You should be much more compliant now.

Daemon presses a kiss against your cheek, relishing the taste of your fear and the way your body tenses in his arms. “Good girl,” he states in a calmer voice.

He swiftly turns you around again, his fingers moving deftly to work the laces of your corset free. You are sobbing quietly and even though he relishes the idea of making you submit, of seeing your eyes red and swollen as you take him to the hilt, it’s becoming tiresome to hear as he undresses you.

“Would you cease with all that incessant blubbering?” he chides you with palpable irritation. He pulls at your laces, then the fabric of the bodice, going back and forth to loosen it enough so he remove it from your body.

“I’m scared,” you peep. “That you will hurt me.” You’re reminding him of a bird once more, perhaps a little chick with no wings to fly, sniffling and pathetic as you accept your fate.

Daemon lets out an exasperated sigh. He would almost rather you be angry and spiteful than sniveling like this. He should have known to use a different tact, but he’s been out of practice for quite some time. He now sees with clarity that you’d be far more susceptible to seduction rather than brute force, but his anger with Rhaenyra had him on edge.

He places his hands on each of your shoulders and cranes his neck forward until his lips meet the spot below your right ear. You jump as he presses a gentle kiss against your skin, his fingers reaching over and caressing along your collarbone. He can feel you relax considerably with his shift in behavior and takes the opportunity to slide the sleeves of your dress down your arms.

“You need not be scared, little bird,” he whispers into your flesh as he leaves another kiss wet against the base of your neck. “I have bedded many a maiden in my time, and I assure you that I am a far more experienced and skillful lover than that untried boy you call husband.”

You swallow with difficulty and then your whole chest heaves upward as you let out a shaky breath. He is not sure if you’re still apprehensive about the pain involved in the act itself or if you dislike hearing him speak ill of your new spouse. It matters not, for Daemon knows he is best suited to tend to your needs on this day, and he will deliver you swiftly from your pain if you serve him well. He could also make it much worse than it has to be if you don’t.

But for the moment, you’re obliging him, not even resisting as he slips the sleeves of your dress off of your hands and they fall to your side. He groans at the pale skin bared to him, feverish at the thought of groping those large tits of yours without the restraint of any bindings.

“I know how best to alleviate your discomfort, my dear,” he continues, his breath tickling your skin. “I know how to hasten you to pleasure.” Daemon sucks teasingly at the lobe of your ear and delights as you shiver and goosebumps break out across the exposed flesh peering out from your low neckline. He is getting so eager now, craving the way you’ll squirm beneath him as he touches you, as he claims you.

He rocks the slackened bodice down over your waist, wiggling it from side to side until it clears your hips and the entire gown finally falls to the floor in a heap. You still don a sleeveless cloth chemise underneath that goes down past your knees, but the fabric is so thin that he can see the outline of your figure right through it.

Daemon feels the hairs on the back of his neck bristle as his cock bulges painfully against his breeches. He’d been so caught up in taming you, so fervent at the thought of plundering your shores, that he hadn’t even realized how much he was aching for you.

With a surge of fist and cord, his trousers are on the ground and he practically tears his braies off so he can press his throbbing length against you sooner. Being liberated from his smallclothes leaves his member free to prod the valley of your arse, and he yanks you back tightly against his chest with a grunt that makes you chirp. You are his sweet, helpless baby bird, ready to be devoured by the fox.

As though pulled by an invisible force, his hands are already snaking around to your front catching your breasts, one in each hand as he kneads them forcefully. You let out a strangled cry of distress as he tweaks your nipples firmly and Daemon’s eyes roll up at the supple, yet dense give of your breasts.

“By the old gods,” he rasps out, looking over her shoulder at the beautiful sight below of cleavage and ample bosom turning in his grip. “These are surely sacred treasures befitting a king.”

He has to feel you without the interference of meddling fabric, needs to see your breasts in all their splendor, to touch-taste-suck them until you cry out. A growl erupts through his nasal cavity and he abruptly yanks your shift down your shoulders, ripping the straps in the process of revealing your remarkable tits.

Seeing your exposed bosom, Daemon grinds his cock into your arse with arousal, his restraint faltering with the promise of you. He spins you towards him, walking backwards to the bed and drawing you by the hands with him. He glances up to see the uneasy expression on your face, the blush in your cheeks as you allow him to lead you. His cheekbones rise and his brow furrows slightly, regarding you with discernment and maybe a sense of pride as you walk bravely forward.

Daemon decides after brief consideration, that he likes you this way: vulnerable, yet courageous. The thought is fleeting as he hits the edge of the bed and sits down without hesitation, tugging you close until you are standing in the space between his parted thighs. Your tits are right in his face now, just where he wants them.

With an aggressive pull, he wrenches the shift from your body, laying you completely bare to him. He doesn’t even know where to begin, so much pale and youthful skin to take in that it makes him absolutely ravenous. Daemon’s hand reaches behind your back, holding you in place as he practically inhales your breast into his mouth. You writhe in his embrace, trying to back away from the intensity of his hungry maw to no avail as his strong arms keep you effortlessly in place.

He nips at the stiff peak, relishing the way you jump in response. Daemon’s hand slides downwards, cupping your round, tight ass with a squeeze. He leans back, taking in the view for a moment as he licks with the point of his tongue around your pale pink areola. He switches to the other beautifully pliant tit, tracing a line with his tongue across the valley of your breasts.

Daemon sucks hungrily at your nipple, palming the other with fanatical tenacity. He can feel your body wanting to withdraw, the way it pushes for more and pulls back at the same time, yet your feet remain firmly planted. He’d praise you for being so mannerly if his mouth weren’t full with your delicious tit at the moment.

He can feel his pulse pounding throughout his cock, standing erect between his legs and starving for any attention it can get from you. He relinquishes his grip on your breast, daring an attempt at getting you to relieve his torment as he clutches your hand and brings it down. Your hand retreats backwards, not wishing to participate, but Daemon is firm with you, guiding you to wrap your little bird wings around his engorged member.

Tepid, featherlight fingers graze against the sensitive skin of his too-fat-with-blood cockhead, and he lets loose a growl against the slope of your chest. “Fuck,” he hisses, sucking air through his teeth as you reluctantly touch him. At this point, his sexual deprivation paired with the immense lust he feels for you makes even your untrained pawing feel flawless in execution.

He’s quickly reaching the point of no return, his carnal urges so great that he knows he must have you soon. Daemon’s fingers lower to your tight little cunt, checking to see how ready you are for his impending intrusion. A knowing grin spreads across his cheeks as he feels the silken wet state of your folds.

“Mmm,” he pulls off of your nipple, peering up at you with violet eyes full of mischief. “Are you holding back how much you desire me, little bird? You naughty thing. What will your husband think?”

You flush red and while he was hoping to see indignation, he’s not displeased with the look of yearning present instead. Had he actually managed to ensnare you with the capable way he handled your body? Had he charmed you into his grasp when it seemed impossible you might actually enjoy yourself? Your silence is complicity as far as he is concerned.

Daemon smirks up at you deviously before switching back to your left breast, his tongue dancing across the tender nub as his fingers test and prod at your entrance. He doesn’t feel a solid membrane, but one that has already been teased on multiple occasions, likely coaxed from the efforts of the wanton little dragonseed herself. He could take her virtue with very little pain and she might even find pleasure in the act.

Dragging creamy nectar up from your heat, he holds your hood back, pressing his middle finger to your swollen pearl with a light, circular motion. You jolt into him, leaning forward as though your knees might buckle with even the slightest of coaxing from his touch.

He does not relent, continuing his attentions to both of your breathtaking breasts as he caresses the peak of your sex with practiced grace. You begin to whine, flinching your shoulders with every nip and suck of your tender nipples, your body becoming overly sensitive with his continued ministrations.

Daemon can feel the tension in your body rising and knows that you are ready for him. And not a moment too soon, he muses to himself, lest he lose his fucking mind with desperate need of you.

He stands up suddenly, gently walking you back a couple steps. He then picks you up into his arms with one fluid motion before depositing you with careful precision onto the bed. You look up at him with big eyes, dilated black with arousal as he climbs on top of you.

“You are a sight to behold, dear girl,” he says hoarsely, his voice heavy with desire. “I will not regret this joining and nor should you.” You look bewildered, a flurry of emotions all rolled into one, acutely aware and fuzzy at the same time.

For the first time, Daemon kisses you, and the feeling is like molten lava blazing through his heart and pooling in his gut. His cock is hard and threatening against your thighs, seeking entry with every jerk and twitch. His tongue sinks through your parted lips, dipping into the heat of your mouth, wanting to consume you whole.

He parts from your lips with an intake of breath, declaring gruffly, “You know that you belong to me now?”

With your quiet acceptance, Daemon positions his head at your core, pressing in just enough to fit snugly against your entrance. Leaning down once more, he cradles your back in his arms and presses another kiss to your lips. He needs to keep you distracted, his tongue dancing with yours, keeping you from dwelling too long on unavoidable pain. Gods knew, the feel of your passionate kiss was enough to divert his attention away from all meaningful thought besides the easing of your hurt.

Without warning, Daemon thrusts into you, breaking through your virtue as he holds you tightly. You cry out in startled agony as his length enters you, tears welling in the corners of your eyes at the sudden flash of pain. He holds position within you, soothing you with hushed whispers and gentle kisses through the worst of it.

As he thought, you are not upset for long, within moments already wiggling your hips around his swollen cock and hungry for more. He can’t help but grin with smug satisfaction at the way your body begs for more without speaking any words. Daemon will give you exactly what you crave. In fact, he loves how quickly you’ve become his little bird, his sweet harlot, forsaking your new husband for him in no more than a hand’s width of daylight.

He winces as he begins to move again; the way your cunt clings to his intruding cock for dear life is almost too much to bear. Daemon pulls back slightly to take you in and is not disappointed by the way your pretty lips are spread and panting out quick breaths of ecstasy. He had not lied to you, he’d certainly been with his fair share of maidens. None have come close to matching the beauty of your deliverance from chastity. You take to his girth with aplomb, to the act of love-making with a passionate, melodious abandon.

Daemon would watch your blissfully lurid expression, listen to your dulcet of sinful delectation, all day if he could. But, it’s not long before he can tell that your little cunny is going to give him trouble. If it hadn’t been so long since the last time he knew a pleasure better than his fucking hand, he might be able to deal with you. But, you are so fucking tight and he’s so wound up, that he opts to go out with a clash of smacking flesh. If he cannot make you peak this time, then he most certainly will on the next try, and he will most certainly take you again.

Your lilting moans drive him closer to the edge, pushing him faster than he’d like. Rearing up onto his knees, he clutches your hips tightly and spreads you across his lap. Daemon desperately tries to push you along to your climax, knowing it will be a race that he is likely to lose. He’s not expecting the intense response you give him or the way your hips buck as he coaxes your pearl to completion.

His eyes widen in disbelief, wincing as your pelvis seizes and you clamp down on him with a force so powerful it undoes him. “Fuccccking Hells!” he growls out sounding like a gruff animal as your walls milk his seed forth. Daemon’s member pulses violently, your muscles finally letting up only to begin rolling in waves across his length. “Gods fucking damn, girl!” he steadies himself against the bed, almost falling on top of you in the process.

His release lurches through his body, demanding and powerful as he erupts into you. He is faintly aware of the way your chanting with delight, muttering something incoherent while your small hands remain fastened to his back, holding onto him. The overwhelming rush finally passes and he is left feeling weak, breathless, but oh so fucking good.

Daemon wilts onto you, pressing a contented kiss against your lips. He’s not entirely surprised, but is still pleased when your hands find the back of his neck, deepening the kiss with vehemence. He feels the musculature of your inner lining contract upon his cock again and shakes his head as he parts from your lips.

“No. No more of that,” he gripes, still too sensitive to take that kind of abuse.

He recoils as he withdraws from you, unable to believe how big his cock looks, not fully hard, but still excessively fat considering. Daemon lies down beside you, wrapping his arm behind you and pulling you close.

You come willingly, cuddling into the crook of his arm as your hungry fingers roam about his jerkin.

And then it dawns on him, that in his impatience, he never even bothered to fully disrobe. He dutifully unfastens the clasps on his leather vest, displacing you for a moment as he tosses it aside and tears off his doublet.

“There,” he says with confidence. “Now you can have the full show.”

You laugh, a mirthful sound that makes his heart ache in a good way. Gods, he had really needed to get in a good plowing. He can feel all of his anger and tension melting away as he takes you back into his arms.

“So? Was it all bad?” he asks, fishing for compliments because he loves to hear them. He’d especially welcome them from a stubborn creature such as yourself.

Quietly, you shake your head, seeming at a loss for words. He could understand. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time. He’d essentially stolen you from the path you’d been traveling, plucked you up for himself without your say so. Daemon wouldn’t prod you to talk about it now that his appetites were sated, wouldn’t tease you about your husband now that he had claimed you fully.

He raises a brow as you speak unexpectedly, listening intently for your first real words since he’d imposed himself upon you.

“It was enjoyable,” you answer respectfully, your lusting eyes betraying your true feelings as your hands rove over his now bare chest, eager for more.

“Only enjoyable, little bird?” he decides to tease you a little bit, just for fun.

That mellifluous laugh returns, making him smile genuinely as he gazes upon you. Daemon strokes your back, relishing in the warm plushness of your skin as he settles into bed.

“Why do you keep calling me little bird?” she asks instead of padding his ego. “I am a dragon just as you… Am I not?”

His whole face lights up with a self-satisfied smirk. “Oh, are you a dragon now? I thought you were just a little bird.”

“I am a seed,” you contend with him, far more seriously than he expects you should. “I am of your line too.” You run your fingers into your disheveled hair, twirling cornsilk strands as evidence.

“Well, yes, but you are not quite a dragon. It’s true you have wings and the means to fly, but that does not make a dragon, my delicate little bird,” he cannot help but say it with a mocking tone, enjoying your reactions too much to let it go.

You dare a fearless smack at his chest, indignant and pouting. He would normally kill someone for laying hands on him in any manner of disrespect, but Daemon does not mind it from you in this moment.

“Perhaps, you do have some fire in you yet,” he taunts you with amusement. You look at him wide eyed as though he’s about to admit that you are a dragon just as he is. You make this too easy. He chuckles as he continues to rib you, “I’ll call you my firebird then. I think that suits you nicely.”

Daemon’s brow winks with humor as you take another swing at him. He holds your arms down to your sides as he pulls you on top of him. He let’s you go as your annoyance settles, regarding you fondly as he tucks loose tresses of silvery hair behind your ears.

“I hope you know that I’m going to come back for you again and again, my little firebird,” he utters in a lower tone, his voice taking on a more serious quality now.

You give him a twisted look of both gladness and remorse, your mind unable to decide whether this is a good or a bad thing.

“Do you care for your husband?” he asks earnestly, not pleased with the idea of another man laying hands on you. “I can conscript him to the queen’s army if you wish to free yourself from him. You need only ask.”

You look torn, but he can tell you’re considering his words carefully. “He is not a bad man as far as I know. The marriage was selected by my mother, my husband earns a living well enough to pay my way.”

It bothers Daemon to hear you call the man your husband, even if it’s true. He considers killing the man masquerading as your groom for you should undoubtedly belong entirely to him and no other.

“Paying your way will no longer be an issue. I will ensure that you are financially supported from this day forth, but I will not give you up,” he hears the words spilling from his mouth and feels like an old fool. He’d celebrated too many namedays to be spewing this lovesick shit? He couldn’t help it though. You stoked a fire inside of him that made him feel alive and vibrant, he needed to keep burning with you.

“I appreciate that,” you offer with a small, but hesitant smile. “I’m sure my mother will be thrilled. She has always tried to make sure I’m well looked after. It’s unfortunate you could not find me a day sooner. I’m not sure how to face him now,” she says with a trembling lip. “He will expect to bed me. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to. It would make me nothing but a whore.”

“Hush,” Daemon says disagreeably. “Don’t say such things.” He finds himself cradling your sweet head against his chest, hating how true your words are and that he is the one responsible for your situation. He must make it his own responsibility to free you from it then.

“I’ll pull you to castle staff then,” he offers, grasping at possible solutions. It would not be wise to tempt Rhaenyra’s wrath under her own roof, but it would be a means to separate you from your husband at least temporarily, until something more lasting could be devised. There were many positions that would keep you far from his wife’s vicinity as well, if she would even notice that he had taken a lover to begin with.

He might also simply murder the bastard and be done with it, but it might be nice to have you close by in Dragonstone too for opportunistic dalliances.

You begin to protest the idea of going to work at the castle, but he won’t hear any of it and interrupts you. “I will give you a choice then, in recompense for what I’ve taken from you. Will you stay with me, little firebird, or with your husband?” He peers at you with thoughtful bluish-red irises, waiting to hear your answer. He has already decided that he will abide by whatever ruling you make, at least for a time. If you wish to bed your husband as well as him, then that will be your prerogative.

“I do not wish to stay with my husband,” you say quicker than he anticipated.

“Well,” he practically gloats with a mischievous grin. “You’ll be coming home with me then.” Daemon presses a happy kiss against your lips, the sight of your bosom sinfully crushed against his chest sends a pang of desire to his cock, signaling it for action. “But, we might as well make good use of the room first. It was graciously afforded to us after all.”

Daemon reaches down to grip your hips, letting forth a hiss of air as he positions you on his already rigid length. You, his little firebird, would be keeping his flame kindled all this day and perhaps all night as well, with many more to follow. You were his now, born from a threat and remade into a promise that he intended to keep. Dragonseed has officially been continued! Read Chapter 2

[scarletcomalies]

soul bounds disentwined

Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Part II, Part III

Word count: 5,546

Warnings: A little angsty, I guess? And ofc Reader having a crush on Billy's mom not knowing if it's reciprocated.

A/N: This is inspired in Halsey's music video "Colors", if you have watched it, you can see where this is gonna go...

A/N: For plot purposes, let’s suppose Infinity War and subsequent events never happened, and instead, after the Civil War, Wanda decided to quit her life as a superhero.

Wanda Maximoff hired you -a photographer who urgently needed a fresh start- to capture the dishes that would be featured in her second cookbook. Her son, Billy Maximoff, interfered with what you two could have developed. He had feelings for you, and well, you had feelings for his mother.

According to Forbes (2023), Wanda Maximoff secured the third position among the wealthiest chefs worldwide. She is a living proof that we are all capable of rewriting our own story, even after a lifetime shaped by external influences.

Simone Carlisle (Culinary Arts Teacher): Ah, Wanda Maximoff… (pauses) let me tell you, no one prepares you for that feeling, where you find out that you contributed your seed to the plants of successes that one of your students planted in the garden of her life.

Wanda Maximoff (Chef, restaurant chain owner, and television presenter): For as long as I can remember, my decisions were a cycle of revenge and redemption... don't get me wrong, I don't regret beating the shit out of some idiots (laughs), but, with the busy life I led, the only moment I could pause my life was while I was hiding in Scotland with my ex-boyfriend Vision. I had no one expecting anything from me, no one telling me what to do, where to go, it was like a puppy without an owner.

Vision (Avenger, Wanda Maximoff’s ex-partner): Dear, was it a journey. First, I remember that she watched YouTube videos to learn guitar. As soon as she woke up, she grabbed the instrument, and she wasn't satisfied until her fingers got numb. In a very short time, she caught the hang of it, and played for the first time in a small bar. No one knew who she was, and if they did, they probably didn't care. She was just a talented player keeping them entertained. Afterwards, band members fought over who would give her their contact first to join them. I thought that would be the beginning of a very successful music career, because from what I've read, international artists started that way.

Wanda Maximoff: I said, “Vision, I’m never doing this again”.

Vision: She kept practicing, playing in the solitude of her room, of course. It was a hobby-kind-of-passion, not the type of passion she would like to dedicate most of her life to. She went through many of those to realize that her main passion was under her nose all along.

Wanda Maximoff: The courage to join in culinary classes arose from desperation (chuckles), I used to prepare recipes at home, and I needed someone else's approval… it couldn't come from someone who didn't even eat in the first place! And so the beginning of my trayectory was paved by this amazing teacher, Simone Carlisle.

Simone Carlisle: The shy girl who during the intensive course kept her head down, sitting on the back corner, nervously playing with her rings while ignoring whispers and glances from other students, is now in a big framed picture, placed in the most visible spot so that everyone who enters my academy knows that I taught this legend. She made my small business a huge deal now (laughs).

Wanda Maximoff: I never imagined that I would have my own cookbook, television program, or chain of restaurants, let alone all three at the same time! At first, I was content with cooking in a restaurant and earning a decent living, but later, I thought about the possibility of creating a YouTube channel, which subsequently permitted me to finance the publication of my book. Building on the success of my book, the opportunity of my show emerged, which in turn allowed me to open my first restaurant, and ultimately expand it into a chain of restaurants. What I want to convey is that you must trust that the love for what you do is a powerful tool. Success is subjective, so pursue your own concept of it.

Amy Lee (Evanescence’s lead singer and songwriter): It was a hard day of work. I didn’t feel like cooking but I was looking for the homiest, most comforting food possible, and Wanda Maximoff made it a reality with her restaurant located just a few blocks near me. I told my bandmate, Emma, about this amazing food restaurant, she replied, "Oh, the owner has a YouTube channel and a show, you should watch it so that you don't overcook the spaghetti" (laughs). It has been a great help to me ever since, for those are creative but accessible recipes. Plus, it’s a nice touch that she uses her magic to manipulate ingredients and utensils, while making you laugh with her witty jokes. The best way to put it is; she makes you feel like it's a close and sweet friend who is teaching you. Her human and warm approach felt and still feels like a pat on the back.

Wanda Maximoff: My favorite singer since adolescence, Amy Lee, has said something about me that fills me with happiness every time I remember it. She helped me cope, I helped her cook. We're even now.

Vision: You see, Wanda's powers went from being a source of fear in the world to being the main reason why said fear stopped as well. An impressive understanding in her abilities, still doesn't make her an expert, as she can't prevent unexpected situations.

Wanda Maximoff: I was six months pregnant. In the blink of an eye… literally.

The latest legacy of the Maximoff family, twins Billy and Tommy, were effortlessly admitted to the New York University. The dean was left speechless, for their admission exam grades exceeded expectations.

Tony Stark (Avenger, Stark Industries): With Wanda, our initial connection was through business, the Avengers, you know? It wasn't until she asked me if I could offer her kids an internship at Stark Industries that we developed a closer bond, and man, were those kids geniuses!

Wanda Maximoff: Those kids... one day, they'll outgrow me (laughs). They were so eager to rush through life stages, and I thought, "You don't realize I would give everything to relive those joyful years," but I know better than to project my own frustrations on my sons.

Virginia "Pepper" Potts (Stark Industries): One day, I said goodbye to two fourteen-year-old boys. The next day, Happy informed me that some tall adults with raspy voices, claiming to be Billy and Tommy, wanted to come in. I immediately phoned Wanda, and she casually responded, "Oh, yeah, they can do that," as if maturing into college students overnight was a typical Tuesday occurrence for any teenager.

Thomas Maximoff, (Student at New York University, son of Wanda Maximoff): What can I say? (chuckles) school didn't present any intellectual challenges for us, and, yes, they do admit child prodigies for... PhDs even! But, we wanted to blend in, to share the same age as our classmates.

Wanda Maximoff: I always considered it a priority to spend time with my boys, so I put a lot of my work on hold, including my second cookbook project. Now that they're focusing on college and their internship, I've had too much time, and by that I mean too much time to finish that unfinished work.

Wanda Maximoff had completed her second cookbook, in response to numerous requests from her loyal fans. Another book that promised to aid all those who seeked a different, quick, and above all, delicious meal at any time of the day. There was no doubt that it would become a global bestseller, just like her previous one.

All that was left were the illustrative photographs for the book, and the studio where you worked at was in charge of this task.

You meticulously made the first dish she cooked appear as exquisite as in real life. You employed several tools like lighting, background elements, and cutlery placement, but you never altered the food in any way, it didn't even cross your mind to do so. This didn't sit well with your boss, but it certainly pleased the redhead.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) (Photographer): I remember my boss suggested that I add components to the food to make it look more appealing. I responded that that was the equivalent of encouraging unattainable stereotypes of beauty... in food (chuckles).

Wanda Maximoff: By offering unrealistic references, people would be discouraged to notice that their result was not the same as mine, not knowing that those references have hours of strategy to make it look 'aesthetic'. I prefer to show it as it is (pauses) I think that's why I liked this girl, I didn't have to say a word and she understood everything.

Your boss was the typical man who didn't let newcomers like you progress. Although you had been working in the studio for about six months, he never allowed you to touch a camera, which was contradictory because that was the job you applied for.

You did the work he didn't want to do, like transporting, positioning and removing the equipment, and setting up the scenery. That idiot just did the angles and clicked the top right button, and then took all the credit and praise. It annoyed you, yes, but unlike him, you didn't need praise from anyone to fill your ego, you just wanted to be acknowledged for your own efforts and not to be another person’s side kick.

In the meantime, it was enough satisfaction to know that none of the praise he gets would be possible without you, and he knew it…

… and Wanda knew it.

"What do you think, Miss Maximoff?" Your boss showed Wanda the array of photographs he took of the latest dish. He proudly displayed them, awaiting for a compliment from the redhead.

"Wow, (Y/N), placing the sautéed potatoes in a separate bowl instead of alongside the food within the same dish... you were right, it gives them their own protagonism and importance as a side dish," was the first thing she said, eliciting a small blush from you. "Great work!"

"Thank you, Miss Maximoff," after hearing her words, you experimented a feeling that was somewhat unfamiliar to you. It made you feel visible, truly seen and acknowledged in a workplace that often overlooked such things. And the fact that it came from her, made it all even more so profound.

"It's just Wanda," she corrected you, as if her previous actions weren't enough, she gave you the green light to address her in a more intimate manner. Along with that, your boss was already frustrated enough at not being the center of attention for two and a half hours. It was all a dream!

"(Y/N), we're done here, remove the equipment and take it to my car. I'll be waiting for you for just five minutes," your boss ordered you. Not even a ‘please’, nothing. In his gaze was evident that desperate attempt to look intimidating, which only made him look like a tantruming child. However, when his gaze turned to the older woman, he held an incredible admiration and appreciation, almost as if they were two different people in the same body. "Miss Maximoff, it was a pleasure working with you, truly an honor. We could continue next week...”

"Do you have equipment of your own, (Y/N)?" She interrupted him in mid-sentence, and you hesitated briefly.

"Uh... yes, of course, Miss... I mean, Wanda," you replied.

You worked as a freelance photographer in your spare time, capturing people or events here and there. It was something relatively stable, but it could not be your main income, so you felt the need to work on a studio.

"Perfect... I'll be contacting only you so we can work on the rest of the illustrations for the book," she stated.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N): I couldn't believe what I heard! The first thing I did was begging to whatever force there is that this wasn't a dream. It was overwhelming, the feeling of fear and ecstasy… Wanda wanted ME to work with her.

She recognized something in you within three and a half hours that others failed to see in six months. This was it. This was the big break you had been waiting for, the opportunity to show your skills and make your mark.

That being said, you never saw your boss, or stepped foot in that studio after that.

In the days that followed, you poured your heart and soul into preparing for the upcoming shoots.

You studied Wanda's previous cookbooks, familiarizing yourself with her style, her preferences. You even watched her program and her interviews, initially with the excuse of seeing those mesmerizing eyes and delighting yourself with her beauty, but you actually learned a lot of cooking techniques that you were excited to cook when it was such an annoying task for you to do.

When the day of the shoot finally arrived, you were ready. You set up your equipment with a confidence you had never felt before. You positioned the reflectors so that the natural light would bounce where you needed it, and set the scene to make the food appealing and motivating. Wanda watched you work, her eyes filled with admiration and respect.

You smiled at her as you turned on your camera, “So, what do you do with all this food after I photograph it?” You questioned curiously.

"I pack it, multiply it with my powers, and give it to the homeless," she explained. "It's something I often do, in fact, but I prefer to keep good deeds a secret, and not brag about it," she added. “I would appreciate it if you don’t say anything.”

"I figured that about you," you smiled sympathetically.

"You figured?"

“You have always used your skills to help," you elaborated, and noticed she slightly scrunched her nose, as a way of disagreeing. "Yes, even when you were working for Hydra, Tony Stark was destroying territories left and right, and you were seeking justice, doing what you felt was right," you added, noticing how her face showed an expression of realization. "And now, you focus on helping people who struggle with thinking of a simple but good meal in the midst of a hectic routine, and not so much on showing off how good you are at cooking exotic dishes. So yes, I assumed you would also help those who can't even afford a meal, too.”

Wanda's gaze was lost in the white marble of her kitchen floor, and you knew you gave her a new perspective on the wrongs she had done in her past. She meant well all along, and ultimately, that's what mattered. She was a great person in the present, and that's what mattered.

"So, you're the photographer in question," a tall, curly-haired guy stepped into the kitchen doorway, interrupting the train of thought of the woman in front of you.

You laughed at the expression on her face as reality hit her again.

"Oh, yes. Sweetheart, this is (Y/N)," she introduced you to who you already knew was her son. "And (Y/N), this is my son Billy."

"Nice to meet you, Billy," you replied, approaching him to offer your hand to shake.

"The pleasure is all mine," he emphasized the last words, as he accepted your hand. "My mom didn't mention that you were so beautiful."

Wanda cleared her throat, and proceeded to look at him with surprise in her eyes. In a I-can’t-believe-you-said-that way.

You couldn't help but laugh again at how expressive she was without noticing it.

But in their perspective, from how you looked the other direction and chuckled softly, you seemed to snicker at Billy's flattery, which couldn't be further from the truth. He was corny and predictable, but most importantly, he was not Wanda Maximoff.

"Oh, forgive him, he still doesn't know how to control those sky-high hormones," Wanda said, grabbing Billy's shoulders from behind to guide him out of the kitchen.

You noticed that she was already shorter than her son by a few centimetres. This was nostalgic for any mother, but how must Wanda have felt watching it happen overnight? You were curious.

"No problem," you replied, and headed for the counter to begin photographing.

Billy entered the kitchen again, standing next to you, but not close enough to invade your space, which you thanked internally.

"Do you mind if I watch you work, (Y/N)?" Billy requested, and you smiled politely.

"Billy! Don't you have an internship to go to?" Wanda interfered before you could answer.

"Pepper and Tony organized a party at the tower," he replied victoriously.

"College homework?"

"Piece of cake. I finished it an hour ago."

“How about you enjoy your free time and go bowling with your brother?”

“He’s busy playing Fortnite online,” he shrugged.

Wanda rolled her eyes, "Behave yourself. That's the only condition."

"It's okay, Wanda," you reassured her. Each stage in a child's life is gradual, and parents usually have many years to learn about what each stage entails. It was understandable that Wanda didn't know what to do now that her children were suddenly old enough to drink and get into adult trouble.

"So, (Y/N), how long ago did you start this whole photography gig?" The taller guy spoke up, once you took your first picture.

"I've been doing it since I was thirteen," you replied, still capturing the image in before you at different angles. "Dedicating myself to this? As soon as I turned eighteen. I had a decent portfolio."

"I don't doubt it," he agreed.

You gave him a slight thankful smile, and walked over to Wanda, who was setting up the second dish to be photographed.

"What do you think?"You asked her, and it wasn't until she turned to look at the camera that you noticed that this is the closest you've ever been to her. You could smell her fragrance and hear her breathing. Your mind was screaming at you to move away, for you had no right to display such trust yet, on the contrary, your body needed to be as close as possible... to feel her.

You had never touched her, not even when she greeted you this afternoon. She simply opened her door and let you enter.

"Excellent. The blueberries next to the gluten-free blueberry pancakes are wet,” she commented. “Did you do it to provide a sense of freshness?" She inquired, looking into your eyes this time, and... the charm of her green eyes was incomparable.

Throughout life, you've seen different shades of green, but hers were unique. They seemed to have a whole story to tell, as if she gave them that power. Her eyes glowed with an emerald hue that mesmerized anyone who met her gaze, and you were no exception.

“Exactly, that’s what I did,” you confirmed, and you felt your cheeks burning, which you immediately hid by looking down and walking back to the counter.

The only interactions you had with Wanda were to get her to approve your photographs, since her son didn’t allow you both a second to talk. He didn’t cease to ask you all sorts of questions, and to keep the conversation going, you responded with brief 'and you?'s so that he still felt heard and had the space to reveal details about himself.

It was all natural for you. Your work was also based on creating a liveliness in the environment where you performed, plus you got more genuine reactions from people if you made them laugh and feel comfortable. However, you always ended up talking with whoever was willing to, even if you were not there to capture them.

In fact, you were enjoying the conversation with such a charismatic guy. At first, it felt overwhelming, but just by letting the topics flow, you ended up laughing and feeling more at ease with him. In any case, you would be meeting him more than once in the eight weeks that remained before the project was completed.

Once you had finished photographing the ten dishes for the week, you turned off your camera and put it back in its case.

You were too happy with the results. This was all done by you alone, and you would be recognized for it. Never again would your boss's name appear under the pictures that were all your doing. The moment Wanda sends your photographs to the publisher, your name would appear in the book credits, and so a new story would begin.

And Wanda... oh, Wanda made it so clear that she loved your work, and paid so much attention to detail. Not only did she praise you, but she made it a point to let you know that she had indeed noticed the details that to the average eye would go unnoticed. You didn't know if you were really developing a crush, or if it was just the fact that she was an older woman that satisfied that need for attention that you rarely got... or it could be both.

When you were working on your own, you didn't feel exhausted and drained despite the long working hours, unlike when you were in the studio. You were very grateful that Wanda had given you another opportunity like that, and you were confident that it could become a regular thing.

"Wow, seeing all these dishes without having eaten lunch has really made me hungry," you laughed, proceeding to remove the reflectors from the kitchen’s window. The sky was still clear. You started at a perfect timing to take advantage of natural light.

"You haven't eaten? Look at the time! I thought you had eaten before you came!" She exclaimed. The redhead actually looked concerned. "Do you have any idea of the damage you're doing to your body? You need energy for this kind of work."

"Hey, I wanted to make a joke and you ruined it with your lecture," you protested.

Wanda sighed, and shook her head disapprovingly, which made your heart crumble a little.

“I… I’ll get some food on the way home,” you corrected yourself.

"How about you stay for dinner? I was going to make it, Tommy won't be long before he comes back to the real world and notices he's hungry," she offered kindly.

"Oh! Or I can take you out for dinner somewhere nice!" Billy proposed, smiling at you with anticipation.

To be brutally honest, you wanted to throw yourself at him and choke him so no other words would come out of his mouth. You knew Billy was just a guy with a silly crush, excited to show you how interested he was in you. He wasn't trying to do any harm. But, hell, wasn't it enough for him to be the center of your attention all afternoon?

"I'm really looking forward to trying something made by your mom," you declined in the politest way possible. "Many people would kill for that honor!"

Wanda let out a laugh, and her expression also seemed to change as she heard your decision to stay.

But, oh, Billy, Billy, Billy... as persevering as his mother.

"Awww! Next week she'll cook you something, right mom?" he insisted, and even though the redhead tried hard to keep her smile, her eyes changed.

"Sure, I'll cook whatever you want," Wanda sighed. "Go with Billy, and continue your conversation... alone," the way she said that last word was as if she had felt like the third wheel all afternoon, as if she was a hindrance to whatever was starting between you and Billy.

"You owe me," you said to Wanda, letting her know implicitly that you were looking forward to your meeting next week, not this dinner with Billy.

Billy led you to the garage of his house, and opened the passenger door of a black car. You thanked him politely and got in, allowing him to close the door for you. The car was completely spotless, and had a new car smell, but not because it was new, maybe because that was the fragrance he asked for at the car wash. For yours, you always opted for lavender… which made you wonder, what fragance did Wanda like for her car?

"Any preferences?" Billy asked once he hoped in the driver’s seat, pointing towards the car radio. It was noticeable he was doing his best to make this comfortable for you.

"A little bit of everything, how about rock like... Evanescence?" you proposed.

"Ah, my mom loves them," he commented, and your eyes lit up at that statement.

"You're kidding..."

"Yeah, since her teenage years," he confirmed. "Evanescence, In This Moment, Epica, Lacuna Coil..." he listed, trying to remember them all.

You made a mental note to put on that music on your next meeting with Wanda. It wouldn't be hard, as you loved all the bands he mentioned, which was wonderful.

You couldn't wait to show her the latest bands, ask her her favorite songs, and have a topic of conversation that would allow you to bound...

"So, ready?" he spoke, noticing that you were lost in thought.

"Yeah, sure," you nodded, putting on your seatbelt.

The dinner was... better than you expected. In fact, it was amazing.

You didn't really have anything in common with Billy, but the way you both listened to each other, and always found a middle ground despite going your separate ways, made the experience with him extremely pleasant.

The only difference was that, as you each went home, he thought about seeing you again, and you thought about seeing his mother again.

And so, after a week, you found yourself in front of the door of Wanda's house, with your camera hanging from your neck, your equipment already waiting on the pavement next to your parked car, and as a bonus, a speaker you brought along to play music while you worked.

Alone, at last...

When the door opened, you found the redhead wearing a casual outfit consisting of dark blue jeans and a black half-tucked in blouse. Oh, and her face, how you missed that face.

"Hey..." You greeted her, with palpable enthusiasm.

"Hi," she replied, and noticed the speaker in your hand, arching her eyebrow. "I found out last week that you and I have a lot of bands in common."

Wanda let out a gasp of surprise, "Oh, please do come in!"

You laughed briefly, and as you were about to enter your equipment to take it towards the kitchen, Wanda snapped her fingers, and it disappeared.

"Wanda, what the hell?" You exclaimed, looking at her with your widened eyes, had she just disappeared all your belongings?

"Relax, they're in the kitchen."

"That skill of yours would’ve come in handy last week too," you commented, walking into her house.

"It was fun watching you run in and out," she shrugged. "But today you earned it, because of the music."

"I see, I have to earn it?!" You exclaimed, feigning indignation. Really, she could have pulverized your expensive equipment in front of you, and you'd still thank her.

Once both of you entered the kitchen, your reflectors were already in the same position as always. And on the other side, the ten dishes were already hot and ready to be photographed.

"And what would I possibly have to do next week to earn that help from you?" you asked, resuming the topic you had discussed earlier.

"Mmmm..." she muttered, in a way that almost made you weak in the knees. She watched you from head to toe making you feel exposed to her as if she had ripped your clothes to shreds and left you standing there, naked and at her mercy. But you were still completely covered. "... I think you've earned it,” your reaction alone was enough reward to her.

“Thanks, I guess,” you cleared your throat.

You picked up the speaker, and turned it on, placing it in a place in the kitchen where it would not interfere. Your hands were shaking, and you could have sworn that Wanda was watching you with amusement, while you avoided her gaze at all costs.

You grabbed your phone, and played the playlist you had prepared for this moment. "A Star-Crossed Wasteland" by In This Moment was the first to come on.

"Oh, I love that song like you have no idea," Wanda exclaimed, closing her eyes and frowning as she passionately listened to that intro. "That album, in general..."

"It's in my top three," you commented.

"Hell yeah! Now we're talking!" She exclaimed, raising her hand offering you a high-five.

"I'm not that old school," you shook your head, chuckling.

Wanda rolled her eyes, and took your wrist, giving herself a high five with your hand.

"Good girl," she praised you, and you swallowed dryly. At the words, and at the fact that this was the first time you'd ever touched her. "What's your top three?" she asked, acting so nonchalantly after flustering the hell out of you.

“Tell me yours first,” you proposed. You couldn’t even think of your favorite three albums of one of your favorite bands.

"Black Widow, GODMODE, and A Star-Crossed Wasteland, she answered, almost without thinking. It amused you to imagine she'd spent her whole life for someone to ask her that question. "And yours?"

"Black Widow is my favorite, too," you agreed. "Blood, and A Star-Crossed Wasteland."

"Oh, two in common and in the same position," she pointed out, smiling. "If the new album hadn't been so good, it would agree with Blood, too…”

For the rest of the evening, the focus was on your favorite bands, as they played in the background.

You finished faster than last week, as Wanda was willing to use her powers for you to just arrange the background and take the pictures, instead of searching in every corner of the kitchen - you only had to ask, and it appeared.

“Alright, we're done...” she concluded, excited. “Now, let me pack this food and put it in the fridge,” and with a snap of her fingers, it was already packed and subsequently perfectly placed inside the fridge.

“Impressive,” you exclaimed, not ceasing to show your admiration, just like every time she used her powers. If you didn't look so cute, Wanda would have grown irritated at you a long time ago.

“Now, I owe you a dinner,” she said. She never told you, but she was so eager to finish quickly because that way, when her sons returned from the internship, you and her would have spent a significant time together.

The food Wanda made for you was... you didn’t even believe that the accurate word to describe it even existed.

The sensations you experimented had you mindlessly closing your eyes, trying to memorize this magnificent meal, absorbing it all in. You had tried a lot of different restaurants and foods, but none like this, oh they wished they were even close to what you tasted.

This was more than just eating. It was a demonstration of peak exquisite cuisine. This was about more than just sating hunger. It was about the delight of tasting food prepared with passion.

And... just as Wanda was leading you out of the door, you noticed that it opened, and you met who you knew was Tommy.

"Oh, finally I have the pleasure to meet the famous (Y/N)," was the first thing he said. So Wanda... "Billy hasn't shut up about you."

You forced a smile, "That's... nice," you hesitated. "I have a feeling he's going to be a great friend, and I hope you are too."

Tommy noted the intent of your response but decided to reply, "Of course," with a small chuckle. "In fact, you should come play tennis with us next Saturday."

"Oh, I don't know how to..."

"I'll teach you," Wanda quickly interjected, and that hope in her eyes made your decision easier in an instant.

"Well... will you send me the address?" I asked.

"Rest assured."

When you said goodbye to Wanda and Tommy, Billy was climbing the steps to the doorway, and he smiled broadly at you.

"Hi, (Y/N)!" He exclaimed happily. "Have you eaten yet? If not, we can go eat something and catch up."

Oh, how kind he was...

"Thank you, your mom and I already had dinner."

It was Saturday, and you were walking around the room in your apartment. Your best friend, Kate, was already starting to get dizzy.

"Kate! It's a country club!" You exclaimed, for probably the twentieth time. "People there probably eat pizza with silverware, and know the use of all ten thousand kinds of forks. I won't fit in..."

"It's just a tennis game! I'd understand if it was golf, but tennis?! You'll be fine!" She groaned.

"I look ridiculous..." you shook your head, looking at yourself in the mirror. "I mean, what is this cap? And why all white? Am I getting baptized or something?"

"Hey! Do you want to fit in? This is the outfit," she countered. "You look hot, surely Wanda will drool over you when she sees those legs," she cheered you up

"Surely it will be Billy," you sighed, disappointed.

"Wanda too, from what you've told me..."

"No, this is one of the situations where I'm misinterpreting a hint of validation from an older, beautiful woman," you quickly denied. "And as always, my best friend is encouraging my delusions."

"Really? Name one situation."

"That Italian woman who I photographed with her family for several Christmas sessions?"

"Ha! She looked at you funny."

"Yeah, that's why she turned down my invitation to dinner when I finally found the courage, saying I knew she had a husband and kids."

"Uhm... she refused just because she had a husband and kids, not because she didn't like you!" She quickly justified, and you couldn't help but laugh, forgetting for a moment the nerves that were eating at you.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

You Should Be Sad

Weightless, Breathless Restitute (2)

Wanda Maximoff x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've just joined the Avengers, Earth's Mightiest Heroes, but Wanda doesn't think your powers are all that special or are they?

Word Count: 2,042

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R uses her powers on W, W calls R Mommy, R uses pet names, R calls W bunny, Mommy kink

A/N: Here is the prequel and the meeting of Wanda and R from You Should Be Sad~

The room was filled with an air of anticipation as I took my seat next to Tony. The hum of fluorescent lights seemed louder somehow, mingling with the heavy silence. I could feel the eyes of the Avengers on me—some curious, others skeptical.

"Alright, everyone," Tony began, glancing around the room. "I'd like you to meet the newest member of the team: Y/N Y/L/N."

I offered a small, curt smile, trying to hide the nervous flutter in my chest. This was a big moment for me, and I didn’t want to seem out of place among these seasoned heroes.

"I've got voice manipulation," I said, my voice steady. To demonstrate, I shifted my tone, letting it oscillate subtly, from deep to high. A few eyebrows raised in acknowledgment.

Then, I pulled down the collar of my shirt just a tad, revealing the Power Stone embedded in the middle of my chest. It glowed softly, a vibrant shade of purple, and I saw a few gasps around the room.

"This," I said, tapping the stone gently, "gives me super strength."

Thor leaned forward, his eyes wide with recognition. "That stone... It's one of the Infinity Stones."

I nodded. "Yes, it is. And with it, I can hold my own in a fight."

Tony smirked, obviously pleased with the team's reaction. "Well, now that introductions are out of the way, let's get down to business."

As the meeting went on, discussing missions and strategies, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. I was no longer just Y/N Y/L/N; I was an Avenger. And with that title came responsibilities and challenges unlike anything I had ever faced before.

The room fell silent, and Wanda's expression shifted from skepticism to a mix of surprise and frustration. I raised an eyebrow at her, a subtle smirk playing on my lips.

"Voice manipulation can't be better than my mind manipulation," Wanda scoffed.

I leaned in, meeting her gaze. "Shall I give a better demonstration?" I proposed, and after a moment of hesitation, she agreed.

As my eyes glowed with a vibrant purple, I commanded her, "Kiss me." Wanda moved, almost mechanically, ready to comply. But just as she was about to, I interrupted with a firm, "Stop."

A slight smirk danced on my lips as I added, "Kneel. Stay." To everyone's amazement, Wanda followed my commands, unable to resist. I turned my attention back to the rest of the Avengers.

"Anymore questions about how powerful my voice is?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, Wanda attempting to get up but held in place. "Oh sweetie, that won't work. Not until I command you."

The room was filled with a tense silence, and I could sense a mixture of awe and caution from the Avengers. I had just made a strong statement about the extent of my abilities, and it seemed they were still processing the implications.

I met the eyes of each Avenger in the room, trying to convey sincerity. "In the future, I won't use this power on anyone unless it's to save your life."

The tension in the room lingered, and I could see the unease reflected in their expressions. My demonstration had left an indelible impression, and it was clear they were grappling with the full extent of my abilities.

"I understand your concerns," I continued, my voice softer now. "But you have my word. I'm here to be a part of this team, to fight alongside you—not against you."

There was a pause, a palpable hesitation as they absorbed my words. Slowly, some of the tension began to ease, replaced by a cautious sense of acceptance. It was a small step, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.

"Alright. You can get up. I don't want you all to think I'm a monster," I said, releasing Wanda from my command. My eyes faded back to their normal green hue as she rose, her expression a mix of relief and lingering resentment.

Without another word, Wanda stormed off, leaving a palpable tension in her wake. I sighed, realizing the gravity of my actions had perhaps overshadowed my intentions.

"I'll apologize," I announced, rising from my seat. It was important to me that the team understood I meant no harm, even if my abilities had startled them.

As I left the room in search of Wanda, I couldn't help but ponder the complexities of joining Earth's mightiest heroes. It was clear that earning their trust would be a journey filled with challenges, but I was determined to prove myself worthy of the title—Avenger.

I knock at her door, "Wanda can I please come in?" I ask and for a moment there is silence. The door creaked open slowly, revealing Wanda seated on her bed, her attention seemingly absorbed by a sitcom playing on the screen. She didn't acknowledge me as I entered, a palpable tension filling the room.

Standing before her, I met her gaze, searching for any sign of forgiveness in her eyes. "How could you do something like that?" she asked, her voice wavering with a mix of hurt and confusion.

"I'm sorry," I replied, my voice filled with genuine regret. "I didn't think it through. I was just showing off, and I hurt and embarrassed you, and I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

For a moment, there was silence as Wanda processed my apology. Then, to my surprise, she responded, "You can finish what you started out there."

I looked at her in shock, not expecting that to be her answer. It was a clear indication of how deeply I had wounded her pride, and I realized that a mere apology wouldn't suffice. I needed to demonstrate my sincerity through action, and it seemed that finishing the demonstration was the first step in mending the rift I had created.

Wanda's request was clear, and I nodded in acknowledgment. "Use your voice. I don't feel like thinking anymore," she stated, pulling me onto the bed beside her.

Allowing my eyes to glow once again, I met her gaze and issued a command, "Kiss me until you need air." Wanda's lips met mine with an intensity fueled by a mixture of emotions. We lost ourselves in the moment, our lips moving in sync as if trying to bridge the gap that had formed between us.

"Shall we keep going?" I inquired, my voice genuine, devoid of any manipulation. Wanda nodded, her eyes meeting mine with a mix of anticipation and desire.

My hand ventured further up her thigh, eliciting a squirm from her. "Oh, someone is eager," I teased, a smirk playing on my lips.

She let out a whine, her body responding to my touch even as my powers began to wane, no longer clouding her judgment as before. Yet, she still moved her hips against my hand, a silent affirmation of the connection between us.

The room was filled with a palpable tension, each touch and movement deepening the bond between us, forging a path towards understanding and mutual desire.

"I'm so glad you're wearing this pretty little dress, sweetie. It's going to make things a lot easier," I remarked with a smirk, my eyes taking in the fabric that clung to her.

"You want this so badly, don't you? A few commands, and that was it? Have you ever done this before?" I inquired, probing for the truth.

Wanda bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before I commanded, "Tell me the truth."

"N-no... never," she admitted, her voice shaky.

I continued to tease her, reveling in the control I had over her reactions. "Awww, that's so pathetic. How old are you, sweetie?"

Despite her efforts to hold back, a moan escaped her lips as she replied, "T-twenty-five."

I laughed, the sound echoing in the room. "Oh yes, my pathetic little baby. I'm going to show you everything," I declared, my smirk deepening as I looked into her eyes, now almost entirely black with pleasure and desire.

I removed my hand, and Wanda let out a groan of frustration. "Oh hush. Get used to it. I'm not giving you everything right away," I teased, smacking her thigh lightly, eliciting a yelp from her.

Guiding her movements, I shifted her hips and pulled her down onto my thigh. "Rub, like this," I instructed, moving her hips back and forth.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she let out a soft mewl of pleasure as she followed my guidance. I watched intently, letting her take control, her movements becoming more desperate as she tried to find release against my thigh.

The room was filled with the sounds of her pleasure, each moan and gasp driving me to push her further, to explore the depths of her desire and vulnerability. It was a dance of power and submission, a delicate balance that we were navigating together, each movement bringing us closer to the edge.

"Y/N... Gonna..." Wanda's voice was a breathless moan, teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

"Stop," I commanded, my eyes flashing purple once again, halting her in her tracks. "Off my thigh. Move to the middle of the bed on your hands and knees," I instructed, my voice unwavering.

I watched as she obeyed, her movements tinged with a mix of desperation and anticipation. I shifted positions, moving around the bed to gaze into her eyes, now shimmering with tears.

"Oh, you look so beautiful right now, baby," I confessed, my voice softening as I took in the sight before me.

"Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me the truth." I ask, tilting her chin up. 

"I want you Mommy. Please...touch me...make me feel good. I need it...I need you. I need your touch Mommy." She cried out in desperation and my stomach exploded with a million butterflies as the sound of desperation in her voice for me. 

I couldn’t hold back anymore as I let two fingers slip inside of her. A moan came out as she grabbed my wrist. “Hands up, above your head. Keep them above your head.” You told her and she moved them as if she were tied by invisible ropes. “Good girl. Now do you want to cum for Mommy?” You asked, looking her in her eyes all dark and glazed from your words. Her head nodded frantically. “Use your words.” A whimper slipped past her lips before the words tumbled past her lips.

“Please Mommy! Wanna cum for you. Wanna make a mess for you! Wanna be Mommy's good girl, please can I cum?” She looked at you desperately.

“Cum.” You gave your command and her body obeyed beautifully. Her back arching and her moans growing louder. You felt her tighten around your fingers as she tried to fight against your command, trying to pull against the invisible restraints. Her whole body trembling for you as you forced it out on a command of your tongue.

“What a beautiful sight. Such a pretty bunny.” Her eyes widened at the nickname, drinking it up like it was water after being in the heat all day. 

“Bunny. your bunny Mommy.” You smiled down at her as you slowly left her, giving a quick kiss before going to her bathroom for a towel. Cleaning her up with a few quiet whimpers falling from her lips and a few quiet ‘shhh’ fall from yours. Once it was done with you let the command go of her hands and took her into your arms.

“You did so good for me bunny.” You kissed her forehead and she looked up at you.

“Can we do this again? Not right not, but just like in general?” She looked up at you with doe eyes still dark with lust.

“How about a date first and we’ll see where it goes?” Wanda blushed, burying her face against you and nodding. She relaxed against you until you felt her breathing even out against you. A smile finding its way to your face as you watched her. You know you had said about not using your power, but Wanda would be the exception so long as she’d want it.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop @mrsromanovaa

[underlove-official]

What is UnderLove?

"UnderLove" is an AU created by Radicalrainbow, based on the renowned role-playing game Undertale. In the universe of UnderLove, the struggle between love and hate shapes its story. It introduces a unique twist with love-centric magic and the contrasting power of hate. Characters’ appearances are heart-themed, adorned in shades of pinks, reds, and whites, with frilly trims, fluffy details, and prominent heart motifs embracing a Valentine's/Lovecore theme. Yet, this AU can show more than just one side of the coin.

Underlove's history

History of the Underground: Long ago, humans and monsters lived separately and in disarray upon the surface. Humans were known for their ruthlessness, hostility, and HATE, which led them to push the kind and loving monsters away.

Tragedy struck one night when the king’s life was brutally taken, leading Asgore to ascend to the throne. Blinded by his own growing anger, Asgore sought to avenge his father, and the once kind and loving monsters turned hostile as war was declared against the humans.

The war raged on, with magic clashing and bodies falling. Eventually, humans emerged victorious, and with the help of a powerful mage, they sealed the monsters underground. The Underground was filled with despair and darkness, but the magic of LOVE gradually began to bloom again, restoring harmony among the monsters.

The royal family made certain that their people remained full of LOVE, fearing the resurgence of HATE that had swept the surface. Royal guards were tasked with protecting the Underground by preserving love and happiness, removing those who began to corrupt with hatred, and dealing with any humans who entered their realm.

Chara’s Arrival: After many years after banishment, their peace was interrupted when a human named Chara fell into their midst, seeking refuge from human cruelty. The Dreemurr family adopted Chara despite their initial wariness, it came to be the best decision of their lives as the two kids grew up together.

Tragically, Chara fell terminally ill from consuming red rose seeds, causing them to cough up petals and roses. Before the illness could fully silence them, Chara expressed a dying wish to see the surface sky one last time.

Asriel, their adoptive brother, absorbed Chara's soul and carried them through the barrier that separated their world from the humans. However, upon reaching the surface, they were met with misunderstanding and rage, resulting in the tragic demise of both Asriel and Chara.

The Dreemurr family, torn apart by the loss of their beloved children, decreed that any human who fell into their realm would be imprisoned in the depths of their castle dungeon.

Official Character Illustrations

FAQs [to be updated]

Question 1: What inspired "UnderLove"? Answer 1: [I've always favored the theme of Lovecore and the holiday of Valentine's Day!]

Question 2: How is "UnderLove" different? Answer 2: [UnderLove started off as a simple theme overhaul, with the characters and locations falling into its theme. Yet I wanted it to be unique, so the story follows a different path from Undertale and other AUs]

Question 3: Can I create fanart for "UnderLove"? Answer 3: [Yes! Absolutely! I'd love to see artwork done of these characters! Just make sure to tag me or use the hashtag #UnderLovefanwork so I can see it!]

Question 4: Can I draw my OC depicted in "UnderLove"? Answer 4: [Of course! I'd love to see what their designs turn out to be and how they'd interact with the cast of characters.]

Question 5: Does "UnderLove" have a wiki page? Answer 5: [Yes it does! I created it a while back and I intend to keep it as updated as possible for UnderLove]

Ask Guidelines

Respect: Be kind and respectful in your questions. Any asks that reflect HATE or are disrespectful will be ignored. No NSFW Content: Please refrain from submitting any NSFW content or questions as this blog and AU are intended for all audiences to enjoy.

Topic: Try to keep asks relevant to the blog and UnderLove in general. Any asks that are off-topic may be passed over to my main blog @radicalrainbow

Repetition: Before submitting your ask, check if it has already been answered via the hashtag on the blog #AsksofLove

No Roleplay Asks: While I love the enthusiasm for the characters and its story, this blog is not set up for roleplaying.

Patience: I try to respond to asks as quickly as possible, but response times may vary depending on the volume of questions and the progress of the story. If your ask doesn’t receive an immediate response, please be patient!

UnderLove's story

The official story of "UnderLove" will be told as a written narrative across multiple chapters. Each chapter will feature illustrated titles, and the written story will be accompanied by drawings that bring key scenes to life. These illustrations will help you better visualize the scenes that are being told. Artist Collaboration While I will be the main artist creating these illustrations, I’m excited to announce that other artists can collaborate on this project! If you’re an artist and would like to contribute: Contact Me! Reach out via my Discord handle or send an ask to the blog (please note that anonymous asks won’t be considered). We can discuss how you can get involved and the specific scenes you might illustrate.

All contributing artists will be fully credited, and I’ll link back to your social media profiles so the community can see the amazing work you’ve contributed!

Written Story chapters

Chapter 1: The Journey Begins

Chapter 2:

Chapter 3:

There's alot more to come to Underlove, so stay determined and keep an eye on this blog for the upcoming story, official artwork, fanart, and updates! Your support and love fuels this story's creation!!

In this world it's Love or be Loved!

[ronearoundblindly]

Yield

Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader

a vague sequel to Warning Signs (not required to read before this)

Summary: Steve takes your mind off a recent tragedy for the team.

Fluff, hurt/comfort with emphasis on the comfort, references to death and trauma but not explicit, SEVERAL sweet kisses 😍. Adjusted (from its languishing, dusty doc) for @bigtreefest's Summer Lovin' Celebration using the elements: hand kink--although this work is for all-ages--and "ew gross, that's not what I thought would happen today"--except I fudged that a bit. You're welcome even though, yet again, no one asked for this! WC ~2.3k

It’s a dreamless sleep, the kind that feels like you blinked but hours passed. Awareness comes long before awakeness.

Your head aches. You feel as shriveled and puckered as you were laying in the bath tub, soaked but thirsty, letting water steadily drip between your paralyzed, parted lips for so long yesterday. Your eyelids are sandpaper, but they’ve not opened yet.

Minutes tick by—perhaps another hour—and you attempt to remember what’s happening or happened.

Two people died. Gone. Brought back in the belly of the same plane you arrived home in, they are now lost, lost somewhere dark like this, lost like you are for so long as you can stand to keep your sore eyes closed.

Well…you are home but not home all at once.

You’re in a bed, that’s clear, but the pillow isn’t your own. The scent is off. Heavy. Musky. Not unpleasant. Somehow still familiar.

You tick through snapshots of sullen faces trying to remember.

Over you lies a soft, thick blanket. Again not yours. Again pleasing. It has heft. It comforts without constraint.

The hardest sensation to figure out is your hands.

They are…sticky and weighted. You’ve sweat and clammed up upon yourself. Your hands are not clasped in each other. Why the feeling then?

It’s cold—or cool, rather—but not beneath the blanket. The contrast to the battlefield’s heat yesterday is stark though no less repressive. The external pressures of fighting have turned inward, pushing your emotions to the brink. Your won the fight, and after, you lost the war with yourself.

You remember losing that war alone, so what are you holding?

Finally, you look.

There’s someone else in this foreign bed, one of the faces from the sorrowful slideshow behind your eyes.

Steve Rogers sleeps beside you, recognizable only by his size and his crown of golden hair because his head is bent, his hands encasing yours. He’s pressed himself to the bundle of fists between you.

The numbness has yet to lift. That’s why it all reeks of distance and projected celluloid. Yesterday happened but only in that far away world playing on the back of your skull. All you can process as real is that he’s right there and you are right here, simultaneously.

You try harder.

You try to flood color and sound onto the memories until they come closer.

The mission, the deaths, the flailing sense of loss, the unending bewilderment of “what do I do now?”: they become…undeniably tangible. They happened, and they happened to you. You heard the captain promise to stay with you. You heard him…

He called you ‘sweetheart.’

That’s the first thought that stirs something soft among the sharp recollections. That’s when existence returns.

Rogers came to your room. He wouldn’t leave until you were safe. He took care of you, and he called you ‘sweetheart.’ In your months of working with the Avengers, the captain has never once casually assigned an endearment. He says ‘ma’am’ more often than not and barely has nicknames for the teammates he’s worked with for a decade. 

Everyone is Agent, Sir, or Miss. Your last name has always been enough.

You were none of those things last night. You survived a horrid battle, a crippling loss, and a solitude which almost drowned you; it’s silly to admit how he heals your wounds with one simple word.

Sweetheart. A warm cocoa hug to your chest. A gentle embrace. A guidance back toward the light.

Maybe he’ll never say it again. Maybe he meant nothing by it. He only tried to help you. He only wanted you to feel better. Since no one else was around, it’s an easy assumption that Steve simply—

Rogers.

He’s Captain Rogers to you. A coworker. A teammate. That’s all.

It’s difficult to even call him a friend because the man is so professional, so shy.

That shy professional probably saw you naked last night. Whoops.

You shimmy deeper under your covers, tilting your gaze down to the shirt and shorts Rogers dressed you in—his shirt and shorts—but those movements stir the man with your hands.

In a split second, you clamp your eyes shut again and wait in the dark, fighting not to twitch at the dry-sand prickle.

He shifts with a quiet scratching of the sheets, and he sighs, the hot air grazing your knuckles.

One traitorous eye gives a curious peek.

Rogers’s head cranes back to show his sleepy smirk.

“Morning,” he rasps, blinking slowly. He ducks away again to yawn, his face stretching to life, before softly continuing. “How you feeling? Can I getcha anything?”

You tuck your lip under and say nothing. Words have left you.

After allowing the pause, Rogers lets go of your hands, cold flooding your damp skin.

“I’ll get us some water then.”

He doesn’t rumple your blanket. He doesn’t hold eye contact. He just dutifully rolls out of his bed and gets two glasses.

The paralysis is making you quake slightly. What do you say? Will he take you out of the field for this? If not already, will he bench you from how you act next? How will you act next?

He leans a knee onto the still-warm spot he abandoned and tsks.

“Come on. Couple of sips and I’ll leave you alone. Sleep all day if you want, but first—“ He inches the offered water closer.

You rake your eyes up his arm until meeting baby blues.

“Do you mean—“

Rogers’s phone rings. “Shoot, sorry. One second.” He plunks both cups down on his bedside table and answers quickly. “Yeah, Sam, I—no, no run today, I think… Seen her? Um, yeah, she’s…she was—“ glancing back at you over his shoulder, he pulls his hand over his mouth in thought “—I’ll look in…okay, sure thing. Talk later.”

You’re offered another smile and chance at water. “Where were we?”

“So this is where you go to be—“

The failed observation echos in the garage while Captain Rogers kneels by his bike (one of half a dozen). You can’t say ‘alone’ since you’re here, too, so you awkwardly kick your feet over the edge of the steel table he told you to sit on.

Captain America is important enough to be assigned one of the coveted, private garages along one side of the jet hangar, and he assured you, no one bothers him as soon as he closes that door. Where else was he supposed to take you? It’s hot outside, just like yesterday, your room is still trashed, and his room is not exactly neutral territory.

Rogers simply smiles, ticking his head to one side. “Hand me that socket wrench?”

Quick as a rabbit, you hop down, and suddenly, as his fingers drag the cool metal handle from yours, you get it. You forgot all about everything for a split second.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he whispers, smile still gentle, eyes still brilliant blue.

Your insides swoop more than the mid-air jump from your perch. You tuck your lip in your teeth to stifle the glow threatening to shine out. It feels wrong. You can’t be happy today. You shouldn’t. It’s not right.

Right?

Twice. Twice now he’s slipped. Maybe. Yesterday is mostly a blur. It’s hard to imagine he means to say that. It’s not like the captain to be kind. Well, of course Steve is kind, but in a professional way, a distant way. Instead, this is a tender sort of kind, tenderness like holding onto your hands while you sleep.

He’s watching your every reaction, probably to make sure you don’t fall apart again, probably to make sure you don’t shut down entirely, but you’ve a new focus: him.

“Help me?” Rogers asks, tongue swiping out, nervous. “If you want,” he adds with a shrug.

You shrug, too, but sit on the floor next to him.

He exudes unending patience, explaining the basics of what he’s working on, mentioning nothing when you clearly zone out. You lose whole minutes to either staring at him or staring at nothing. More flashes of yesterday overtake your vision from time to time, even though your eyes are open.

“Should have taken you to the infirmary,” he mutters as you shake off your latest blip.

You drop the tool dangling in your limp hand, and despite knowing there’s an object falling to the concrete floor, you jump violently at the clattering it makes.

You grip at your temples, shielding your face. “Perhaps you should have.”

A warm, steady hand lands on your knee.

“I can finish up here and take you.” He hurries to do something on the bike, and you’re sure he’s about to send you for a psych eval.

That’s the last thing you want. You have to convince him you are fine, better than fine, strong.

You grab for his wrist to get his attention back, but the move makes him twist a cap too hard and thick brown oil comes steaming out all over both of you. It drips from your forearms down and splashes from the drip pan up, the flow quickly tapering off with a thick glug from the pipe.

“Ew, GROSS,” you blurt without thinking. You resist the urge to shake it off. No need to cover more of the room in your shame. “Sorry, Cap. I—That was—“

“No, no.” He’s just laughing, thank goodness. “My fault. Was gonna change that anyway…in a couple months. You alright?” He waits for a nod. “Let’s get this mess off at the sink, yeah?”

Rogers carefully points to the corner. You maneuver onto your feet and alternate raising and lowering your arms, thick rivulets threatening to paint the floor if you let the oil run too far in one direction.

“Wipe what you can off with the towels first.”

You sort of knock the roll over and nudge it across the counter. A strategic elbow turns up the tap and depresses the soap dispenser.

“‘Steve’ is fine,” he says as he massages lather over your palms, “by the way.”

You’re damn right Steve is fine.

Your breath catches while he continues to work the oil off your skin, avoiding eye contact.

After a minute or so, rubbing around and down your fingers, specifically scrubbing along your nails, he clears his throat.

“I’m glad it wasn’t you—“ Steve concentrates on circling each knuckle “—horrible as that sounds.”

You take control of the hand helping you, applying pressure as you feel a small tremor rattle the fine bones, unable to see the clear truth of his words beneath righteously long lashes.

He lets you wash him for a while, rubbing between his fingers, scrubbing along his nails, lathering over his palms.

His voice is so quiet, a low breeze from the distant, retractable ceiling letting in the world.

“Not supposed to say that,” he rumbles, inches away at most, “diminishing as it is to the dead.” Steve halts you and slides his hands up your forearms. “But that’s the point, yeah?” He looks up finally. “Focus on the living…”

You’re frozen, hanging on every word you’re convinced he can’t be saying.

“Is that a quest—“

Steve’s long lashes descend to narrow his path, supple lips grazing yours for the briefest moment before a curt “no.” He moves in for a proper kiss then, head tilting to take full advantage of your shock. A new shock. A different kind of shock from the one you’ve barely recovered from since…

Twenty-four hours. Horror. Sweetheart. Limbo. Sweetheart. Bliss.

He’s right. The heat of him signals life and passion, desperation and spirit for the best kind of danger: a leap of faith from the heart.

A sweet heart.

It’s at this shocking and romantic turn that you realize, you’d follow him anywhere, just as he’s followed you onto a doomed battlefield, into your chaotic mind, into a cold and lonely shower. You had nothing but doubt; he offered nothing but hope.

Your weight leans into the clutch of devoted sinew and reverent tendons. Steve takes that as a welcome encouragement.

One day it might be him or it might be you, and as difficult and painful as that would be, it helps to focus on who is still here. Both of you. Together. Now.

He’s lavish and indulgent, intense because his wet hands can’t pull you closer. His tenderness and decency saturate every atom of connection between you. Each generous touch conveys something undying and pure.

Your hold on each other slips in the running tap when Steve get a little greedy, his body pinning yours to the rim of the sink.

Immediately, he apologizes, retracting into a shell of chivalry and sympathy.

You swallow to compose yourself, minimal effect achieved.

After a fair few thundering heartbeats pulse past you ears, you manage, “that’s not what I thought would happen today.”

The baby blue irises are the picture of horror. “Bad? No?”

Steve steps back only once before you follow.

“Why me?” you counter softly.

He huffs in his infinite patience with you and rolls his eyes in disappointment with himself. Steve hangs his head, propping his arm on either edge of counter nearest him. A dark, bitter chuckle escapes before he finally confesses.

“Because every other day I feel very little, but with you, I want so much more.”

Is this how you looked to him yesterday? A raw wound begging for help in blinding light? Did he have this fear that he couldn’t offer enough?

It is enough though. It has to be enough to try for what you want, to live even in kindness and duty. He’s taken a step, and so can you.

You smile, close the remaining distance, and whisper one word into Steve’s waiting mouth.

Promise—

Question or statement, it doesn’t matter, or perhaps, you’ll figure it out on any other day. Today it simply means you're both alive.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: Hope this turned out okay and that you enjoyed the fluff! If not, don't worry. I've got a smutty lifeguard!Steve one-shot in the works, too!! Tags will be in a reblog since they've been so wonky lately.

[brunchable]

LAZARUS SERUM || Steve Rogers x Enhanced!FReader

Part III

Part One | Part Two | Final Words: 11.1K Themes: Angst, Drama, Violence, Action (Fighting Scenes: Steve vs Bucky), Hatred, Lovers to Enemies, Enemies to Lovers. Warning: Emotionally heavy? Death. Sneak Peak: Bucky’s eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, he saw the vulnerability that you so rarely showed. “Stark’s a paranoid bastard, but he’s not wrong about everything,” he replied. “HYDRA always had a backup plan.”

You nodded, biting your lip as you turned back to the window. “I’ve got people waiting for us at my father’s old place. People who want to rebel. But if Stark’s right… if there’s something inside me that they can still control…”

A/N: This was difficult to write man, I feel like i keep repeating myself. Anyways this short story is almost done, I'm thinking to make one for bucky in this same timeline, but i dunno.

Tags: @realifelamb @needsleep3000 @vicmc624 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @mrs-jjmaybank @strepsils123 @nesnejwritings @haruvalentine4321 @feelinthefic @niffala @fantasyfootballchampion @thefandomplace

SHIELD agents moved about the Helicarrier, carrying out their usual duties. The tension from your recent capture still lingered in the air, but for the moment, everything seemed normal.

Inside one of the briefing rooms, the Avengers gathered around a large, circular table. The holographic display in the center flickered to life. Steve stood at the far end, his expression remaining grim. He had been silent since his conversation with you, apart from when he told Fury about the new information about you.

Nick Fury stood at the head of the table, his one good eye sweeping over the assembled team. He cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention as the screen behind him shifted to show a detailed molecular structure—one that looked alien yet familiar.

“This,” Fury began, pointing to the hologram, “is the Lazarus Serum. It was an experimental project conducted by a rogue HYDRA scientist during World War II. What makes this serum different from the Super Soldier Serum is that it’s derived from an unknown foreign DNA, not of earth.”

The room fell into a stunned silence. Tony’s brow furrowed in thought, while Natasha leaned forward, her eyes narrowing at the image on the screen.

“So an Alien DNA?” Natasha echoed, disbelief evident in her voice. “How did HYDRA even get their hands on something like that?”

Fury’s expression darkened. “During the war, HYDRA had their hands in more than just earthly affairs. There were rumors that they made contact with otherworldly entities, collecting samples and conducting experiments. Most of these were failures or too dangerous to continue, but the Lazarus Serum was different. It worked, but with a catch. It enhanced the subject’s strength, speed, and durability—just like the Super Soldier Serum—but the side effects were severe: mental instability, increased aggression. . .making them unhinged.”

“And Y/N?” Steve’s voice was low, but it carried a weight that made everyone turn toward him.

“She’s the only known survivor of the Lazarus project,” Fury confirmed. “And because the serum is derived from Alien DNA, its effects are permanent. Y/N is more than just enhanced—she’s on a whole other level. The serum doesn’t just slow aging; it effectively makes her immune to most forms of injury. We’ve seen that she can take bullets without flinching, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

Fury opened up a highly confidential video file named, ‘Lazarus Serum’ and instantly piqued the team's curiosity.

As the holographic footage played, the room fell into a tense silence. The screen displayed a black-and-white, grainy video of a sterile HYDRA laboratory, dimly lit and cold, with the camera focusing on you, strapped to a metal table. The tension among the Avengers was palpable as they watched, the atmosphere heavy with the gravity of what they were about to witness.

You lay on the table, your body weak and trembling. The serum coursing through your veins was taking its final toll, pushing you to the brink of death. Your skin was pale, your breaths shallow, and your heartbeat was erratic, the monitors showing your vitals dipping dangerously low.

Fury’s voice cut through the footage, steady but grim. “This is what our talented hackers are able to salvage, the final recorded moment of the Lazarus Serum experiment. Day 100.”

On the screen, the lead scientist stood over you, his expression hard as he observed the monitors. Despite the clear signs that you were dying, he was refusing to back down. The technician beside him looked increasingly anxious, glancing between the monitors and your convulsing body.

"Her vitals are deteriorating rapidly," the technician warned, his voice shaking. "She's not stabilizing. We should stop."

The scientist’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing with determination. "We’re too close. Increase the dosage."

"But sir, she won't survive—"

"Do it!" he barked, silencing any further protest.

The technician hesitated but ultimately complied, injecting you with another dose of the glowing serum. The screen showed your body convulsing violently on the table, the restraints biting into your skin as your body tried to fight the unbearable pain. The lines on the monitors went haywire, your heart rate spiking uncontrollably before it suddenly flatlined.

Steve couldn’t bear to watch any longer. The sight of you, broken and tortured. His heart clenched with a pain so intense it might as well be a heart attack. It was clear that every second of this footage was torture for him, he tried to keep watching but turned his head away, unable to watch life being drained from you. His fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white as he fought back the tears threatening to spill over. He couldn’t bring himself to see the moment you died, the moment HYDRA took everything from you.

Fury paused the footage briefly, his gaze sweeping over the team. “At this point, HYDRA pronounced her dead. The lead scientist, as you can hear, said to ‘Dispose of the body.’ They believed the experiment was a failure, and that Y/N had died.”

The footage resumed, showing the scientist’s callous order to dispose of your body. The camera caught the technician’s expression—a mix of shock and fear—as he moved to unstrap your lifeless form from the table. The filming stops and the screens go black.

“We can only guess what happened next,” Fury’s voice echoed through the room. “This is why it’s called the Lazarus Serum. Like the Lazarus of myth, it brought her back to life. The woman you knew, Steve, died on that table. What came back was something else.”

“Excuse me.” Steve quietly excused himself from the room, his thoughts too heavy to focus on a strategy. He needed a moment alone, to process what he had just seen, and to prepare himself for the fight of his life.

Tony, who had been deep in thought, glanced up just in time to see Steve slipping out of the door. Something about the way Steve moved—so rigid, so controlled—set off alarm bells in Tony’s mind.

“Hey, Cap—” Tony called after him, but Steve didn’t stop. He didn’t even turn his head. He just kept walking, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Tony’s eyes narrowed as he watched Steve go. He knew that look, the one where Steve was bottling everything up inside, pretending he was fine when he was anything but.

× × × × 

Steve barely made it to his quarters before the dam broke. The door slid shut behind him with a soft hiss, sealing him in the solitude he so desperately needed. For a moment, he stood there, his back against the door, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he fought to maintain control.

But the weight of everything he had just seen and heard—the memories, the footage of your death, the knowledge that you had suffered because of him—crushed down on him with a force that made his knees buckle. He stumbled forward, his vision blurring with unshed tears.

With a choked sob, Steve lashed out, his fist slamming into the nearest object—his desk. The wood splintered under the force of the blow, but the pain in his knuckles barely registered. He hit it again, and again, each impact sending shockwaves up his arm, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

He threw a chair, shattered a picture frame, and ripped the curtains from the window, the fabric tearing with a violent snap. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe through the crushing weight of his emotions.

The door to his room suddenly opened, and Tony Stark stepped inside, his usual confident demeanor faltering as he took in the sight of Steve in the midst of his rampage. Steve didn’t notice him at first, too lost in his own agony to register anything beyond the need to destroy, to somehow externalize the pain that was tearing him apart from the inside.

“Steve!” Tony’s voice was sharp, cutting through the chaos. But Steve didn’t stop. He grabbed the closest thing within reach—a lamp—and hurled it across the room, the glass shattering as it struck the wall.

“Steve!” Tony shouted again, moving quickly to grab Steve’s arm as he reached for another object. Steve yanked his arm away, his eyes wild and unfocused, his chest heaving as he glared at Tony.

“Get out!” Steve’s voice was raw, torn from the depths of his soul. But Tony didn’t back down. Instead, he reached out again, this time catching Steve’s wrist in a firm grip.

“Steve, stop!” Tony’s voice was filled with a mixture of urgency and compassion as he tightened his hold. “You’re going to hurt yourself!”

Steve struggled but held back in Tony’s grip, his knuckles already bleeding from the impacts against the wooden furniture. But Tony didn’t let go. He could see the pain in Steve’s eyes, the anguish that was tearing him apart, and he knew he couldn’t just leave him like this.

“Damn it, Rogers, look at me!” Tony’s voice cracked with emotion as he forced Steve to meet his gaze. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself!”

For a moment, Steve’s rage faltered, his eyes locking with Tony’s. The room fell into silence, the only sound the ragged breathing of the two men standing in the midst of the wreckage. And then, as if the fight had been drained out of him, Steve collapsed to his knees, his body trembling with the force of his sobs.

“I did this,” Steve gasped, his voice choking with emotion. “All of this.”

Tony knelt beside him, his heart aching at the sight of his friend so completely broken. He pulled Steve into a tight embrace, holding him as Steve’s walls crumbled completely.

Steve fought against it at first, his body stiffening as if trying to hold onto the last shreds of his composure, but eventually, he couldn’t resist. He rested his forehead on Tony’s shoulder, his sobs coming harder and faster, his breath hitching in his throat.

“You can’t blame yourself for everything,” Tony whispered, his own voice thick with emotion as he acted as Steve’s rock. 

“I failed,” Steve cried, his voice muffled against Tony’s shoulder. “I left her when she needed me the most. How can I ever make that right?”

“Damn it,” Tony mumbled, tightened his grip, his own throat constricting as he tried to hold back his own tears, “HYDRA did this, not you. There is always a way.”

× × × × 

Tony entered the cell, his expression devoid of the usual levity. He took a moment to observe you, noticing the way your eyes followed his every move, calculating, waiting.

"Back so soon, Stark?" You broke the silence, your voice a smooth mixture of mockery and disinterest. "Did you miss me?"

Tony didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he pulled out the chair across from you and sat down, folding his hands in front of him. He stared at you for a long moment, his gaze unflinching.

"I think you and I both know there's more to this Lazarus Serum than you're letting on," Tony began, his tone conversational but with an edge of steel beneath it. 

“I see Rogers didn't waste any time, after knowing about my serum,” you chuckled and raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in your eyes. "Is this the part where you try to psychoanalyze me? Try to figure out what makes me tick?"

"Oh, I don't need to figure out what makes you tick. I already know. You’re angry, bitter, and probably more than a little scared. Not that you’d ever admit it." Tony leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms casually.

Your eyes narrowed slightly, the first crack in your carefully maintained facade. "You don’t know anything about me."

"Don’t I?" Tony replied smoothly, his voice taking on a tone of calculated sympathy. "You were Steve’s girl, right? The one who got left behind, forgotten. You were just a kid when HYDRA took you, and they twisted you into something… else. You’re not angry because of what they did to you. You’re angry because the people who were supposed to care about you—people like Steve—didn’t save you."

Your hands clenched into fists at Tony’s words, the knuckles turning white. "You think you’re clever, now huh? You think you can come in here and play mind games with me?"

Tony leaned forward, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that was hard to ignore. "I’m not playing games. I just want to understand what’s going on here. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that nothing is ever as simple as it seems. You hate Steve, sure. You hate me, too, probably. But I’m betting there’s a part of you that hates HYDRA even more. So why don’t you tell me what they really did to you? What’s the catch with this Lazarus Serum? What are they not telling you?”

You held Tony's gaze, the flicker of something darker passing through your eyes. But you kept your expression as neutral as you could. "You think I’m just going to spill my secrets to you? You’re more naive than I thought."

Tony smirked, leaning back again, feigning a relaxed demeanor. "Oh, I don't expect you to spill everything. Not right away. But I’m pretty good at reading between the lines. And right now, you’re giving off a lot of signals, sweetheart."

The nickname was meant to annoy you, but you didn’t react, keeping your face impassive. Instead, you decided to toy with him a bit. "You really think you’re different from the rest of them, don’t you? Just because you’re a genius in a tin suit? HYDRA, SHIELD, you—they’re all the same. You all think you’re the smartest one in the room. But you’re all playing the same game. You’re all just cogs in the same machine."

Tony’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his cool. "That’s a nice speech. But I’ve been in your shoes, remember? Taken apart, piece by piece, rebuilt by people who didn’t give a damn about what they were doing to me. So why don’t we cut the crap? What did HYDRA really do to you?"

You leaned forward, matching his intensity. "They made me better. Stronger. Faster. Everything your buddy Rogers has, and then some. But you already know that. What you really want to know is how to stop it."

Tony tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "So it’s true then? There’s no off-switch? No failsafe? You’re just a ticking time bomb, aren’t you?"

Your eyes flashed with anger, and for a moment, you almost let it slip. Almost. But you caught yourself, settling back in your chair with a cold smile. "Nice try. But you’re not as clever as you think you are."

Tony’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes hardened. "You’re right. I’m not trying to be clever. I’m trying to help you. You think you’re untouchable now, but the truth is, HYDRA doesn’t make anything without a leash. You’re telling me there’s no failsafe? No way to control you if you step out of line?"

You didn’t respond immediately, and that was all Tony needed. "See? That, right there. You hesitated. There’s something you’re not telling me. Something even you don’t know."

You clenched your jaw, the silence between you thickening. Tony was getting under your skin, and he knew it. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You think you’re free? You’re just as much a prisoner as you were when they first strapped you to that table. And deep down, you know it."

"You think you can manipulate me with your cheap psychology tricks? I’ve had experts try to break me, Stark. You’re not even in the same league."

Tony’s expression remained unfazed. "I don’t need to break you. I just need to understand. Because if you think for one second that I’m going to let HYDRA have their way with you—or with anyone else—you’re sorely mistaken."

You stared at him, your mind racing. Tony Stark was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid. And he was right about one thing: HYDRA didn’t make anything without a failsafe. But what did that mean for you? Did you even want to know?

Tony watched the conflict play out on your face, and he decided to push just a little bit harder. "You can keep pretending that you’re in control, that you’re the one calling the shots. But at the end of the day, you’re just another one of HYDRA’s experiments. And when they’re done with you, they’ll toss you aside like garbage."

Your hands trembled slightly, the anger boiling just beneath the surface. "Shut up, Stark."

He leaned back, satisfied that he had struck a nerve. "We’ll talk again when you’re ready to stop lying to yourself. And trust me, you will."

As Tony stood up to leave, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. The idea that HYDRA could still have control over you, that there was something they hadn’t told you—it gnawed at you. But you couldn’t let him see that. You couldn’t let him win.

Just before Tony reached the door, you spoke again, your voice cold and distant. "You think you know everything now. But it's only the tip of a needle."

Tony paused, turning back to you with a raised eyebrow. "Then enlighten me."

But you didn’t say another word. You simply stared at him, your eyes burning with a mixture of anger and fear. Tony shook his head slightly, a hint of disappointment in his expression before walking out and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

And for the first time in a long time, those thoughts weren’t comforting.

× × × × 

Your eyes snapped open. The blaring sound reverberated through the metal structure of the Helicarrier, signaling chaos above. A slow, cold smile spread across your lips, a glimmer of dark satisfaction in your eyes.

Leaning back against the wall, you tilted your head slightly, listening to the escalating panic beyond the cell door. The symphony of chaos was almost... delightful.

“Finally,” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely audible over the din.

The lights flickered, the warning sirens growing louder and more insistent as SHIELD agents scrambled to their stations. The Avengers, who had been spread out across the ship, immediately converged in the command center, each of them on high alert.

"What now?" Tony muttered, his face twisting into a frown as he glanced at the flashing red lights. 

Fury's voice boomed over the intercom. "We've got hostiles onboard. This isn't a drill—The Winter Soldier and a squad of HYDRA operatives just breached the perimeter." 

Steve's heart plummeted. He had just started to gather himself after the emotional breakdown of learning about your past and his rage-fueled outburst. Now, hearing about Bucky’s presence, he felt a fresh surge of desperation. He had to stop him from reaching you.

As they ran through the Helicarrier's corridors, the sounds of battle grew louder. Gunfire echoed off the metal walls, and the smell of smoke and burning electronics filled the air.

The Helicarrier shook as explosions ripped through the structure, sending sparks and chunks of metal cascading through the corridors. 

Alarms blared, drowning out the shouts of SHIELD agents and the staccato of gunfire. The team raced through the chaos, dodging falling debris and returning fire at HYDRA agents who revealed themselves.

Natasha sprinted ahead, her movements fluid as she flipped over a barrage of bullets, landing gracefully before taking out two HYDRA agents with precise shots to their heads. She quickly ducked behind cover, reloading her pistols, eyes scanning for the next threat. Clint, perched in a higher vantage point, loosed arrows with deadly accuracy, each one finding its mark in the chest or throat of a HYDRA agent. 

“We’ve got to cut them off before they reach Y/N!” Steve shouted through the comms, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

Tony took to the air, his repulsors humming as he blasted through a wall to create a shortcut. 

“On it!” he called out, targeting a group of HYDRA agents laying down suppressive fire from a balcony. His repulsors lit up the darkened corridor as he unleashed a barrage of energy beams, reducing the balcony—and the agents on it—to rubble.

Meanwhile, Steve charged forward, his shield a blur of motion as he deflected bullets and took down any HYDRA operatives in his path. He was relentless, driven by the singular focus of reaching you before it was too late. His heart pounded in his chest, not just from the exertion of battle, but from the gnawing fear of what would happen if Bucky succeeded.

Ahead of him, the Winter Soldier, was a force of nature. He moved with deadly precision, his metal arm crushing through walls and doors as if they were paper. With every obstacle he encountered, he either barreled through or dismantled it.

A squad of SHIELD agents attempted to block his path, but they were no match for his ruthlessness. Bucky dispatched them brutally, his expression unchanging as he advanced toward the detention level.

Steve caught sight of Bucky just as he took out the last of the SHIELD agents guarding the entrance to your cell. 

“Bucky, stop!” Steve shouted, his voice carrying through the smoke-filled corridor.

Bucky turned slowly, his eyes narrowing as he locked onto Steve. There was a flicker of recognition, but it was quickly buried beneath the cold, mechanical focus of the Winter Soldier. Without a word, Bucky charged at Steve, their collision echoing through the Helicarrier like a thunderclap. The force of their impact sent shockwaves through the surrounding walls, cracking the metal and sending a rain of sparks from the overhead lights.

The fight was immediate and brutal, each man fighting with a desperate intensity that went beyond the mission. Steve knew he had to stop Bucky, not just to protect you, but to save the man who had once been his best friend. But Bucky was relentless, his movements precise and deadly, every strike aimed to incapacitate or kill.

Steve blocked a powerful punch from Bucky’s metal arm with his shield, the impact reverberating up his arm and nearly knocking him off balance. He retaliated with a swift kick to Bucky’s midsection, but Bucky barely flinched, grabbing Steve by the arm and slamming him against the wall with enough force to dent the metal.

“You don’t have to do this!” Steve shouted, ducking under a wild swing from Bucky’s left fist. “You’re James Buchanan Barnes! You were born in Brooklyn, 1917! We grew up together—best friends!”

“Shut up!” Bucky growled, his voice low and dangerous as he swung his metal arm at Steve with murderous intent. “I don’t want to hear it!”

But Steve wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t. “You’re Bucky! You joined the 107th Infantry, you fought in the war, you saved my life more times than I can count!”

“Shut up!” Bucky roared, slamming Steve into the wall again, the force of the impact cracking the metal. “Shut up!”

But Steve pressed on, his voice cracking with desperation. “You’re a brother to me, Bucky! We went through hell together! You’re not this—this weapon HYDRA made you into! You’re James Buchanan Barnes!”

Bucky’s eyes flashed with something dark and twisted as he Bucky’s grip tightened around Steve’s throat, the rage in his eyes burning brighter with each word Steve spoke. “I told you to shut up!”

But Steve, despite the choking pressure on his windpipe, forced the words out. “You’re... Bucky... you’re... my brother...”

With a snarl, Bucky shoved Steve back, releasing his grip only to drive a brutal punch into Steve’s midsection. Steve doubled over, gasping for air, but even as he staggered, he refused to give up.

“Remember... who you are, who I am,” Steve rasped, clutching at his ribs as he straightened up. 

"I don't care to remember who you are but I do remember this. . .”

Steve’s heart surged with a flicker of hope, but it was quickly dashed as Bucky continued, his tone dripping with malice. “I remember the way she used to scream for me, the way she begged because someone couldn't satisfy her.”

Steve saw red.

Steve launched himself at Bucky, his fists flying with a ferocity he hadn’t unleashed in years. All the restraint, all the control he usually maintained, evaporated in the face of Bucky’s vile taunts. He swung his shield with all vicious force, slamming it into Bucky’s side and following up with a brutal uppercut that sent Bucky staggering back.

But Bucky recovered quickly, his expression cold and unyielding as he blocked Steve’s next punch with his metal arm. The force of their strikes echoed through the corridor, each blow landing with the weight of their shared history and the emotional wounds that had been ripped open.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Steve shouted, his voice hoarse with rage as he slammed his shield into Bucky’s midsection again. “This isn’t you! HYDRA did this to you! You’re not their puppet!”

But Bucky just sneered, his eyes filled with contempt as he caught Steve’s next punch and twisted his arm painfully. “She never begged you for more, did she? No matter how much you tried, she always needed me to finish what you couldn’t start.”

The taunt was the final straw. Steve’s vision blurred with a red haze as he let out a guttural scream, wrenching his arm free and slamming his shield into Bucky’s chest with enough force to crack the metal floor beneath them. He didn’t care about strategy or technique anymore—he just wanted to hurt Bucky, to make him pay for every word, every twisted memory HYDRA had implanted in his mind.

Steve pressed his advantage, driving Bucky back with a flurry of powerful strikes. He landed a solid punch to Bucky’s jaw, then followed it up with a brutal shield bash that sent Bucky staggering. For a moment, it seemed as though Steve might actually overpower him. Bucky’s defenses faltered, and Steve took full advantage, slamming him into the wall with a force that made the entire corridor shudder.

“You don’t get to talk about her!” Steve roared, his shield coming down like a hammer, striking Bucky again and again. The fury in his eyes was all-consuming, his movements fueled by a deep, protective rage.

Bucky grunted in pain, the relentless assault forcing him onto the defensive. He blocked a few of Steve’s strikes, but the sheer force behind each blow drove him back, his metal arm straining under the impact.

“You’re not taking her!” Steve shouted, driving his knee into Bucky’s midsection and following it with a devastating uppercut that sent Bucky crashing to the ground.

For a moment, Steve loomed over Bucky, panting heavily, his eyes blazing with anger. He had the upper hand, and Bucky looked up at him with something that might have been fear or perhaps something darker.

But Bucky wasn’t finished. As Steve moved in for the final blow, Bucky’s eyes narrowed, and with a sudden, vicious twist, he swept Steve’s legs out from under him. Steve hit the ground hard, his shield clattering to the side. Before he could recover, Bucky was on him, his metal arm clamping around Steve’s throat, squeezing with unyielding force.

Steve’s vision darkened as he struggled against Bucky’s grip, the initial surge of rage drained him, leaving him vulnerable. Bucky leaned in close, his expression cold and unforgiving, his grip tightening as if to finish him off.

But then, something shifted in Bucky’s eyes. His grip faltered, the anger in his expression wavering. He stared down at Steve, breathing heavily, and for a moment, he looked... lost. The hostility that had driven him was still there, but it was mingled with familiarity.

Steve, gasping for air, could see the hesitation in Bucky’s eyes. “You...will put her in danger if you take her,” he managed to choke out, his voice strained but firm. “You’re more than what they made you.”

Bucky’s hand trembled, the pressure on Steve’s throat easing slightly. He didn’t know why, but the idea of finishing Steve off suddenly felt wrong. There was a nagging feeling deep inside him, something that pushed against the cold, mechanical orders HYDRA had drilled into him.

He released his grip on Steve’s throat entirely, stepping back as if unsure of what he had been about to do. He looked down at Steve, who lay on the ground, coughing and trying to catch his breath, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky felt a pang of guilt.

“I... don’t care who you are,” Bucky muttered, his voice cracking with an emotion he couldn’t place. “But stay out of my way.”

Instead of delivering the final blow, Bucky turned and walked away, leaving Steve lying on the cold metal floor, bruised and battered but still conscious.

Bucky reached the detention level, his pace quickening as he neared the cell where you were held. The door loomed ahead and he entered the pin that he was given by one of the agents.

He stepped into the cell, his expression softening as he saw you. “Let's go,” he said, his voice filled with a protective tone that left no room for doubt. It didn’t matter who stood in his way—he would protect you at any cost, even if it meant defying the part of him that still hesitated, still questioned, still remembered.

× × × × 

In the hangar bay, Tony arrived just in time to see the transport vanish into the distance. He cursed under his breath, frustration and anger bubbling up inside him as he activated his comms.

“Fury, we’ve lost them. They’re gone,” Tony said, his voice laced with bitterness.

There was a brief pause on the other end before Fury responded. “Get Rogers and regroup. We’ll figure out our next move, but this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”

Tony glanced back at the corridor where Steve was trying to get up with a grimace.

He made his way back to Steve, kneeling beside his fallen teammate. “Come on, Cap,” Tony muttered, “We’ve got work to do.”

Steve groaned as got up to his feet, head pounding from the beating he’d taken. The first thing he saw when he looked up was Tony’s face, his expression grim but not without a hint of concern.

“Y/N…?” Steve murmured, his voice weak as he tried to push himself up.

“They got her,” Tony replied, his tone flat. “Bucky took her, and they’re long gone by now.”

Steve’s heart sank, the weight of his failure crashing down on him like a ton of bricks adding to the pile. But Tony wasn’t about to let him wallow in self-pity.

“Save it for later, Cap,” Tony said, helping him to his feet. “Right now, we need to get back to the others. Fury’s not going to be happy about this, but we need to regroup and figure out our next move.”

Steve nodded numbly, still trying to process everything that had happened. The pain in his ribs and the bruises covering his body were nothing compared to the agony of knowing that he had failed again.

× × × ×

The dust began to settle, and the team regrouped, battered but unbowed. The realization of what had just happened—of how deeply HYDRA had infiltrated SHIELD—hung over them like a dark cloud. The Helicarrier was in disarray, corridors filled with debris, smoke still curling from shattered panels, and the distant sound of alarms echoing through the vast structure. SHIELD agents, those who remained loyal, were helping the wounded and trying to restore some semblance of order. 

Steve Rogers leaned heavily against a wall, his injuries and the emotional toll pressing down on him like never before. 

Tony Stark, always one to keep moving even when his mind was in chaos, was pacing back and forth, his suit clanking with every step. He had been replaying the events of the past few hours in his mind, analyzing every detail, every word, every move, searching for something they had missed. As his thoughts churned, a memory suddenly clicked into place, causing him to stop dead in his tracks, his eyes widening.

“Dammit,” Tony muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of disbelief. The suddenness of his outburst caused the others to turn toward him, their expressions questioning.

“What is it?” Natasha asked, her tone sharp as she watched Tony with narrowed eyes. She was on edge, the adrenaline of the fight still pumping through her veins, and the last thing she needed was another surprise.

Tony turned to face the group, frustration evident as he pieced it together out loud. “Y/N knew. That cryptic crap she said during the interrogation—it wasn’t just her messing with us. She was trying to tell us something.”

Steve straightened at the mention of your name, his heart tightening as he remembered the cold, distant look in your eyes during the interrogation. 

“What are you talking about, Tony?” he asked, his voice rough with exhaustion.

“She said something about how ‘keep your friends close. . . But your enemies closer,’ and that ‘you’d be shocked at how deep the rot goes.’ At the time, it sounded like she was just spewing nonsense to get under our skin. But now…it makes sense.”

“She was warning us,” Tony continued, his tone filled with a mix of frustration and reluctant admiration. “She was trying to tell us that HYDRA had already infiltrated SHIELD. She practically spelled it out for us, but we were too blind to see it. We were so focused on her as the enemy that we didn’t stop to think about what she was really saying.”

Natasha frowned, her mind racing as she recalled the conversation. “Why didn’t she just come out and say it directly?” she questioned, but even as the words left her mouth, she knew the answer. 

“Because she couldn’t,” Clint interjected, “If she’d said it outright, they’d know. HYDRA would have seen it, and they’d have to shut her down before she could give us anything.”

Steve, who had been standing off to the side, consumed with thoughts of you, felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over him. He had been so focused on what you had become—so fixated on the idea of saving you—that he hadn’t seen what you were trying to tell them. You had been trying to help them, in your own way, and he had missed it.

“Y/N was trying to help us,” Steve murmured, his voice filled with a mix of realization and sorrow. “But we didn’t listen.”

Tony’s expression softened slightly, though his usual bravado was still present. “She was still playing her own game, Cap. Don’t romanticize it too much. But yeah, she threw us a bone. And we missed it.”

Natasha stepped closer, her gaze firm and unyielding. “So what do we do now? We can’t trust anyone. HYDRA could be anywhere—everywhere. We need a plan.”

Steve’s mind was spinning, this was the last thing they needed. The fight with Bucky, the realization that you had tried to warn them, the knowledge that HYDRA had already sunk its claws deep into SHIELD—it was hard to believe, but that was now the reality.

But he couldn’t afford to falter. Not now. Not when so much was at stake.

“We need to figure out who we can trust, and take the fight to HYDRA. We’ll find Y/N and Bucky, and we’ll put an end to this.” Steve said firmly.

The others nodded. 

They had been blindsided, caught off guard by the depth of HYDRA’s infiltration. But they were the Avengers—they had faced impossible odds before, and they would do it again.

As the team moved to regroup and plan their next steps, Tony lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on Steve. “Cap,” he said quietly, drawing Steve’s attention. “We’ll get them back. Both of them.”

× × × ×

The stolen Quinjet’s engines was the only sound between you and Bucky as the landscape blurred beneath. Outside, the world rushed by in a silent blur of greens and browns, but inside, the atmosphere was thick with uncertainty.

You sat in the copilot’s seat, staring out of the window, mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Tony’s words echoed in your head, a gnawing doubt that you couldn’t shake. You’re just a ticking time bomb, aren’t you? You remembered him saying, his voice laced with the same arrogance that always grated on your nerves. But this time, beneath the bravado, there was something else—truth.

Was there something HYDRA hadn’t told you? Some failsafe, hidden deep within you? The thought made you uneasy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. You clenched your fists, your knuckles turning white as you fought to keep your composure. You had always prided yourself on being in control, on being the one to pull the strings. But now… now you weren't so sure.

Beside you, Bucky was equally lost in thought, his eyes fixed on the controls, though his mind was elsewhere. Steve’s words from their brutal fight were like daggers in his mind, each one striking a different nerve. He had tried to shut them out, to focus on the mission, but they kept coming back, louder and louder. “You’re James Buchanan Barnes! You were born in Brooklyn, 1917! We grew up together—best friends!”

The memories were there, just out of reach, like a puzzle with pieces that didn’t quite fit. Bucky’s grip on the controls tightened as he fought the urge to scream, to give in to the frustration that was building inside him. But he couldn’t.

“We’re still quite far,” You said quietly, breaking the silence. Your voice was steady, but there was a tension beneath it that Bucky didn’t miss.

He nodded, glancing over at you. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice gruff.

You didn’t answer right away, your gaze still fixed on the horizon. When you finally spoke, your voice was low, almost as if you were speaking to yourself. “I don’t know anymore. About anything.”

Bucky didn’t press you. He understood that feeling all too well. For the longest time, his life had been nothing but a series of orders, a mission without end. Now, here he was, flying towards a past that he barely remembered, with a woman who was just as lost as he was.

“Stark is right, you know,” you said suddenly, turning to face him. “About HYDRA. About the control they still have over me. Stark… Stark said something that’s been eating away at me. He thinks there’s a failsafe. Something I don’t know about.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, he saw the vulnerability that you so rarely showed. “Stark’s a paranoid bastard, but he’s not wrong about everything,” he replied. “HYDRA always had a backup plan.”

You nodded, biting your lip as you turned back to the window. “I’ve got people waiting for us at my father’s old place. People who want to rebel. But if Stark’s right… if there’s something inside me that they can still control…”

“Then we deal with it,” Bucky said firmly, his voice cutting through your doubt. “We’ll find out what HYDRA did, and we’ll tear it out by the roots.”

You glanced over at Bucky, a serious expression settling over your face. “Now that my plan to sabotage Pierce succeeded, he has new enemies,” you said, your voice steady and sure. “What’s left of SHIELD… and us. I just know he's scrambling to get the upper hand.”

Bucky paused, taking in your words before he asked the question that had been nagging at him. “Why did you help them? The Avengers.”

Your gaze shifted back to the window, your expression hardening slightly. “I didn’t.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed, confused. “What would you call it then?”

There was a moment of silence, heavy with the weight of what lay unspoken between you. Finally, you turned to face him, your eyes sharp and unyielding. “Taking down Pierce. That was my only goal. The Avengers were just… a means to an end.”

Bucky studied you, searching for any hint of hesitation or doubt. “So you used them?”

“Use them, manipulate them, call it what you want,” you replied, your tone firm but devoid of the venom that usually laced your words. “I needed them to believe they had the upper hand. It was the only way, very hypocritical. I know.”

Bucky nodded slowly, processing your words. He could see the logic in it, but there was something in your tone, in the way your eyes darkened when you spoke, that told him there was more to it than you were letting on.

“Do you regret it?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t answer immediately. Your gaze drifted back to the horizon, your expression unreadable. 

“Regret is a luxury I can’t afford, Bucky,” you said finally. “Pierce needs to fall, and I did what I had to do to make that happen, for your freedom.”

“And yours. . .?” he asked, his voice quiet but insistent. 

You stayed silent, your expression unchanged, but the slight tightening of your grip on the armrest didn’t escape Bucky’s notice. The question hung in the air, unanswered, and he realized that perhaps even you didn’t know the answer.

× × × × 

The next day.

The Quinjet landed softly in the clearing, its engines whirring down to a low hum as the dust settled around it. You stepped out first, scanning the familiar surroundings of your father’s old home. It was a place of memories, both comforting and haunting. The farmhouse had weathered time well, standing as a symbol of resilience, much like those who now sought refuge within its walls.

Bucky followed close behind, his eyes sweeping over the perimeter, ever vigilant. As they approached the entrance, one of your  trusted agents—Agent Lawson—emerged from the shadows, his face grim.

“Welcome back, ma’am,” Lawson said, his tone respectful but tinged with urgency. “We’ve got intel. You need to see this.”

Your exchanged a brief glance with Bucky before nodding to Lawson. “Inside,” you said, your voice steady despite the unease growing within you.

You entered the farmhouse, the interior dimly lit but secure. The agent led them to a small room that had been converted into a makeshift command center. Maps, monitors, and files were spread across a large table, each detailing various aspects of their ongoing struggle against HYDRA.

Lawson handed you a tablet, his expression serious. “Ma’am, the Avengers went public with the exposure of HYDRA. It’s all over the news now. HYDRA’s operations within SHIELD are out in the open, and they’re scrambling.”

Your eyes narrowed as you took the tablet, the screen lighting up with a news feed. On it, you could see footage of Captain America, Steve Rogers, speaking directly to the camera in a broadcast that had gone out worldwide. But as you listened to his words, you quickly realized there was something that felt intimately directed at you.

“If you launch those helicarriers today, HYDRA will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way, unless we stop them,” Steve’s voice echoed through the room, his tone calm but behind it, something deeper—something only you would recognize. “I know I’m asking a lot, but the price of freedom is high; it always has been.”

Steve’s voice softened just slightly, a subtle change that might go unnoticed by most, but not by you. “And it’s a price I’m willing to pay,” he continued, his words lingering, as if speaking directly to you, “I’m not afraid to fight for what matters… or who matters.”

Your heart clenched at the unmistakable message, meant for you and you alone. “If I’m the only one, so be it. But I’m willing to bet I’m not.”

The screen froze on Steve’s face, his expression resolute, but his eyes—those eyes that you knew so well— carried a message meant just for you.

“They’ve dealt HYDRA a major blow, but Pierce is still out there,” Lawson continued, oblivious to the personal significance of Steve’s words. “He’s regrouping, and he’s made it clear that he’s coming after you, ma’am.”

You stared at the frozen image of Steve for a moment longer, your emotions swirling, threatening to break through the carefully constructed walls you had built around yourself. But then, with a sharp inhale, you forced those emotions down, locking them away where they couldn’t distract you.

Your face hardened as you shoved the tablet back into Lawson’s hands, your voice clipped and cold. “What’s Pierce planning?”

Lawson, slightly taken aback by your sudden change in demeanor, quickly handed you a folder. “We intercepted some communications from what’s left of HYDRA’s network. Pierce is regrouping, but he’s been severely compromised.”

You opened the folder, your eyes quickly scanning the contents. As you read, your expression darkened further. “What’s his next move?” you asked, your tone flat, all traces of emotion wiped clean.

Lawson hesitated, his eyes flickering to Bucky before he spoke. “He’s going after you, ma’am. Pierce knows he’s lost control of HYDRA’s influence within SHIELD, but he’s not done yet. He’s activated something—something called Project Lazarus.”

“That bastard Stark was right,” You laughed but your grip on the folder tightened.

“He’s desperate,” you said quietly, your eyes narrowing as you pieced it together. “If he can’t control me, he’ll try to eliminate me. He’s betting everything on this failsafe.”

Lawson nodded. “We believe he’s mobilizing the remnants of HYDRA to locate and retrieve whatever information or technology is needed to activate it. If he gets his hands on it, you’ll be his primary target.”

“We need to find out exactly what and where this failsafe is and how to disable it.” you closed the folder with a snap, your expression cold and resolute. “Lawson, I want every available resource focused on this. Find out everything you can about Project Lazarus—what it is, where it’s stored, how it works. We don’t have much time.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lawson said, his voice firm as he prepared to carry out your orders.

Bucky stepped closer, the bad feeling bothering his mind increasing intensity. “Y/N, this is a trap. Racing Pierce for this failsafe… it’s exactly what he wants. He’s counting on you going after it, to put yourself in danger.”

“I don’t have a choice, Bucky. If he gets to it first, it’s over. We need to find out exactly what this failsafe is and how to disable it.”

Bucky’s hand twitched, his instincts screaming at him that something was terribly wrong. 

“I don’t like this,” he admitted, his voice low and urgent. “There’s too much we don’t know. Pierce is desperate, and that makes him dangerous. If you go after this, you’re walking right into his hands.”

“Not if we get to it first.” You lifted your hand and placed it over his cheek, “Trust me.”

Not even ten minutes passed by, Lawson returned, his expression urgent. “Ma’am, we’ve got the preliminary intel on Project Lazarus. It’s worse than we thought.”

Your eyes snapped to Lawson, all traces of emotion vanishing as you switched back into mission mode. “What did you find?”

Lawson handed you a small, encrypted drive. “It’s a self-destruct mechanism, embedded within the serum dna. If activated, it will kill the host instantly. Pierce’s plan is to get to the activation device before we can, and if he does...”

Y/N’s grip on the drive tightened, the weight of what Lawson was saying settling over her. “Then it’s game over,” you finished, your voice cold.

Bucky felt his chest tighten as he listened. “Y/N, this is exactly what I was talking about. You’re the one he’s targeting. He knows you’ll go after it, and he’s setting the trap.”

You looked down at the drive in your hand, the realization of what you were up against hitting you fully. But there was no hesitation in your voice when you spoke. “This is why we make sure he doesn’t get there first. We move fast, and we don’t give him the chance to spring his trap.”

“Lawson, get the team ready, we’re moving out in twenty.” You look back at Bucky, giving him a small reassuring smile before you get yourself prepared.

× × × ×

The war room at the Avengers Compound was buzzing with activity. Multiple holographic displays floated in midair, showing maps, satellite images, and streams of data that scrolled rapidly across the screens. The Avengers were gathered around the central table, their expressions tense and focused. Time was running out, and they all knew it.

Steve Rogers stood at the head of the table, his arms crossed as he surveyed the data being fed in by JARVIS. His eyes were sharp, determined, but there was an undercurrent of urgency in his posture. They had to find Pierce before it was too late.

“JARVIS, expand the search radius to include the most recent HYDRA activity,” Tony Stark ordered, his fingers flying over the controls on the table. A new map appeared, showing several locations highlighted in red.

“I have already cross-referenced known HYDRA safehouses and recent communications intercepts, sir,” JARVIS responded, his voice calm and efficient. “However, Mr. Pierce has been taking measures to cover his tracks. He is not using any of the usual channels.”

“We’re missing something,” Natasha Romanoff said, her voice thoughtful as she studied the data in front of her. “He wouldn’t just go dark. He’s got to be coordinating something big. There has to be a pattern.”

Bruce Banner leaned forward, adjusting his glasses as he examined a cluster of highlighted areas on the map. “What about his known associates? Anyone still in contact with him?”

“Most of them are either in custody or underground,” Natasha replied, shaking her head. “But there are a few we haven’t been able to track down. They could be his lifeline.”

Steve looked over at Sam Wilson, who was monitoring a live feed of communications traffic. “Sam, anything on your end?”

“Not much,” Sam said, his brow furrowed in concentration. “But I did pick up a few encrypted messages that could be HYDRA-related. The problem is, they’re using a code we haven’t cracked yet.”

Tony’s fingers paused over the controls, and he turned to look at the team. “We don’t have time to play it safe. We need to flush him out. We hit those locations simultaneously and force him to react.”

“Agreed,” Steve said, nodding. “But we need to be smart about it. Pierce is desperate, and that makes him dangerous. We can’t afford any mistakes.”

“Steve’s right,” Natasha added. “We go in, but we need to be prepared for anything.”

Just then, JARVIS’s voice cut through the tension. “I may have something, sir. I’ve detected a series of anomalous energy readings in an isolated area approximately fifty miles outside the city. The readings are consistent with the signature of a stealth HYDRA base.”

A holographic image zoomed in on the location, showing a heavily forested area with minimal infrastructure. The perfect place for someone like Pierce to lay low.

“That’s got to be him,” Clint Barton said, his eyes narrowing as he studied the terrain. “It’s secluded, hard to access, and easy to defend.”

Steve nodded, his jaw tightening. “Then that’s where we’re going.”

Tony was already moving toward his suit, the familiar whirring of machinery filling the room as the armor began assembling around him. “JARVIS, prepare the Quinjet. We’re wheels up in five.”

The rest of the team sprang into action, suiting up and gathering their gear. The sense of urgency in the room was palpable—this was it. The moment they had been waiting for.

As they headed toward the hangar, Steve couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was off. They had the location, they had the team, but there was still an unknown element at play—something that Pierce was counting on. They had to be ready for whatever he had planned.

In the Quinjet, the team settled into their positions, the hum of the engines vibrating through the floor as they prepared for takeoff. Steve stood at the front, his hands gripping the back of the pilot’s seat as he stared out at the darkening sky.

“We go in fast and hard,” he said, addressing the team. “We neutralize any resistance and secure Pierce. But keep your eyes open—this could be a trap.”

“Isn’t it always?” Natasha remarked, a hint of wry humor in her voice as she checked her weapons.

Tony turned to face the team, his visor down, but his voice clear through the comms. “Remember, Pierce knows how we operate. We need to stay one step ahead.”

The Quinjet lifted off smoothly, banking toward the coordinates JARVIS had provided. As they flew toward what they hoped would be the final confrontation with Pierce, the tension in the air was almost suffocating. Each of them was lost in their own thoughts, preparing mentally for what was to come.

Steve’s mind, however, drifted to Y/N and Bucky. He knew they were out there too, likely chasing the same target. His grip tightened on the seat. He hoped they’d stay out of each other’s way, but deep down, he knew that wasn’t likely.

As the Quinjet sped through the night, Steve glanced around at his team, each one of them ready to face whatever lay ahead. This was the moment they’d been preparing for. There was no turning back now.

“Approaching the target location,” Sam announced from the cockpit, bringing Steve’s focus back to the mission. “We’re going in.”

Steve took a deep breath, steeling himself for the battle to come. “Let’s finish this.”

The Quinjet descended toward the forest below, and the Avengers braced themselves for the confrontation that would determine the fate of their mission—and possibly much more.

The air inside the abandoned HYDRA facility was thick with tension. Dust and debris lined the cold metal floors, remnants of a once formidable operation. Now, it was eerily silent, save for the faint hum of electricity still pulsing through the aging wires. The Avengers moved cautiously, their steps echoing through the empty corridors.

Steve Rogers led the team, his shield at the ready, as they approached the central chamber. His instincts told him they were close—too close for comfort. The door to the chamber slid open with a hiss, revealing a large, dimly lit room. And there, at the center, stood Bucky and you.

The Avengers froze, surprise flickering across their faces as they took in the sight of the two figures. Bucky’s stance was tense, defensive, while you stood beside him, your gaze throwing daggers.

“Well, well, well,” Tony Stark’s voice cut through the silence, dripping with sarcasm. “Look who decided to crash the party. You two got lost on your way to a HYDRA reunion?”

You smirked, crossing your arms as you eyed Tony. “Funny, Stark. I was going to say the same thing about you. Shouldn’t you be off with your lab toys or something? Or is this just another Tuesday for you?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, his suit whirring softly as he adjusted his stance. “Oh, you know me, always multitasking. But I gotta admit, seeing you two here is a bit of a plot twist. Care to explain what’s going on, or are we doing this the hard way?”

Bucky’s eyes darted between you and the Avengers, his muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap. He didn’t like how outnumbered you were, and he especially didn’t like the idea of a fight breaking out with Steve standing just a few feet away.

You kept your gaze locked on Tony, a hint of a smirk still playing on your lips. “Trust me, Stark, you don’t want to do this the hard way. We’re not here for you. But we’re also not here for a social call.”

Steve, sensing the rising tension, stepped forward, his shield raised slightly. “Y/N, Bucky, We’re here to take down Pierce. You’re either with us or against us.”

Your eyes flicked to Steve, your smirk fading as your expression hardened. “We’re here for the same reason, Rogers. But our priority isn’t taking down Pierce. It’s beating him first.”

Tony tilted his head, his eyes narrowing behind his mask. “And what, pray tell, what could be worse than letting that slimeball run free? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re cozying up to the wrong side.”

Before you could respond, a slow clap echoed through the chamber, drawing everyone’s attention to the shadows. From the darkness, Pierce emerged, a smirk plastered on his face as he surveyed the scene.

“Well, isn’t this touching?” Pierce drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. “The Avengers, all united in their righteousness, and yet… here you are, just as powerless as ever.”

The Avengers immediately shifted their focus to Pierce, weapons ready, but the tension in the air remained palpable. Your body tensed, your eyes narrowing as you locked onto Pierce.

Steve took a step forward, his voice stern. “Pierce, it’s over. Surrender now, and maybe we can work something out.”

Pierce laughed, a cold, humorless sound that echoed through the chamber. “Oh, Steve. Always the optimist. But you’re wrong. It’s not over. In fact, it’s just beginning.”

He raised a small device in his hand, his thumb hovering over a button. “You all really thought you could stop me? After everything HYDRA has built? The world may see me as a traitor now, but I’m not the one who’s lost here. You are.” 

Pierce’s eyes shifted to you, his expression darkening with malicious glee. “And you, Y/N… the precious little weapon we created. Did you really think you could escape us? That you could fight back and win? You’re a tool, nothing more. And like any tool, when you’ve outlived your usefulness, you get discarded.”

Your jaw clenched, but you remained silent, your mind racing. You could see the cold resolve in Pierce’s eyes, the unmistakable sign that he was ready to press the button at any moment.

Pierce continued, enjoying every moment of his twisted power. “This—this is my failsafe. Our failsafe. HYDRA always plans for every eventuality, and you, Y/N, were no exception. One press of this button, and everything you are, everything we made you, ends.”

Steve’s heart sank as Pierce’s words sunk in. The realization hit him hard—Pierce wasn’t just threatening everyone, he was threatening your life. Panic flashed across Steve’s face, and he took another step forward, his voice urgent and desperate. “Pierce, listen to me. You don’t have to do this. Whatever HYDRA promised you, it’s not worth it. Just… put the remote down, and we can figure this out.”

Pierce’s smirk widened, relishing the fear he saw in Steve’s eyes. “Oh, Captain. You think you can negotiate with me? That’s adorable. But you see, I’ve already won. You’re too late to stop me.”

Steve shook his head, his voice breaking as he pleaded, “You don’t have to end her like this. If it’s me you want, take me. Just don’t hurt her. I’ll do whatever you want—just put the remote down.”

For a brief moment, Pierce seemed to consider Steve’s words, tilting his head as if weighing his options. Then, a cold, cruel smile twisted his lips. “You think I’d trade her life for yours? How noble of you, Captain. But no, this isn’t about you. This is about making sure she never defies us again. It’s about sending a message.”

Steve’s desperation turned to anger as he tried one last time. “Pierce, if you do this, there’s no coming back. You’ll lose everything. We’ll make sure of it. Just… don’t press that button. We can find another way—”

But Pierce’s thumb was already pressing down. 

To Steve, it felt like the world slowed to a crawl. The small, mechanical click of the button echoed in his ears like a gunshot, louder than anything he’d ever heard. His heart pounded, time moving painfully slow as the full reality of what was happening crushed down on him.

“No!” Steve’s voice ripped through the chamber, filled with anguish and fear. He lunged forward, but it was too late. The failsafe activated, and your body reacted instantly.

Your body jerked violently as if a surge of electricity had just shot through your veins. A choked gasp escaped your lips, your eyes widening in shock and pain. You tried to reach out, to grab onto something, anything, to steady yourself but your strength drained from you like water through a sieve. You staggered, your legs buckling beneath you as you collapsed to the ground. Your vision blurred, but you fought for as long as you could, looking at Bucky who assisted you to collapse gently on the floor.

“No!” Steve’s voice was frantic, the raw pain in it reverberating through the room. He dropped to his knees beside you, cradling your convulsing form in his arms as if by holding you close, he could somehow stop the inevitable. “No, no, no, please, Y/N! Stay with me, stay with me!”

But you, through the haze of pain and the encroaching darkness, knew what you had to do. You turned your head slightly, focusing on Bucky. Your voice was weak, but the urgency was unmistakable. “Bucky… run. You have to… run. Don’t… look back.”

Bucky’s eyes widened in confusion, refusal written all over his face. “What? No, I’m not leaving you—”

“Go!” Your voice cracked with desperation as you struggled to maintain consciousness. “Go, Bucky! Now!”

Bucky hesitated for a fraction of a second, torn between his instinct to fight and his need to protect you. But then Pierce’s smug smile caught his eye, and something inside him snapped. With a roar of pure rage, Bucky’s metal arm slammed into Pierce, sending him crashing to the ground.

The fight was brutal, savage. Bucky’s fury was unleashed in every punch, every strike. Pierce barely had time to react before Bucky was on him, his fists a blur of metal and flesh, pummeling the life out of him.

Pierce’s screams echoed through the chamber, but Bucky didn’t stop. He didn’t stop until Pierce was nothing but a lifeless, broken mess on the floor. Panting, his vision clouded with rage and grief, Bucky finally looked up, his eyes locking onto your still form, cradled in Steve’s arms. The sight tore at his soul, but your final command echoed in his mind.

Run.

Without another word, Bucky turned and ran, disappearing into the shadows before the Avengers could even think to stop him.

Steve didn’t notice Bucky’s departure. His entire world had narrowed to you—your lifeless body, the cold stillness of your form in his arms. He rocked back and forth slightly, his grip tightening as if he could hold onto your life, refusing to let it slip away. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, his mind reeling with disbelief and sorrow.

The other Avengers stood around him, silent and stunned, the gravity of what had just happened sinking in. They had all faced countless dangers before, but this felt different. 

This felt final.

Steve’s voice broke the silence, a guttural cry of anguish that echoed through the chamber, filled with a depth of sorrow that none of them had ever heard from him before. 

“Y/N!” he cried out, his voice trembling, pleading with a world that seemed to have gone cold and unfeeling. “Please, don’t leave me. You can’t… no…no…please.”

He cradled you closer, his tears falling unchecked, soaking into your hair. Every fiber of his being screamed against what was happening. This wasn’t supposed to be how it ended. Not for her, not like this. The injustice of it tore at him, threatening to pull him apart.

But you didn’t respond. Your body remained still, your face peaceful, as if you had simply gone to sleep. The life that had burned so brightly within you was gone, extinguished by the cruel machinations of those who had sought to control you. He couldn’t stop the sob that tore from his throat, his anguish laid bare for all to see. 

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” he whispered, his voice breaking with every word. 

The chamber seemed to grow colder, the weight of the moment pressing down on everyone. Time seemed to stand still, the world outside forgotten, as they all stood in the aftermath of a battle that had been lost in the most devastating way possible.

After what felt like an eternity, Tony finally stepped forward, his voice quiet, almost reverent. “Steve…” he began, but the words caught in his throat. What could he possibly say? There was no comfort, no way to undo what had been done.

Steve didn’t respond. His focus was entirely on you, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. He couldn’t comprehend a world without you in it. He didn’t want to.

Finally, after a long, painful silence, Natasha spoke, her voice soft but firm. “We need to get her out of here, Steve.”

Steve nodded numbly, but he didn’t move. It took all of his strength to gather himself enough to even consider letting you go. He didn’t want to let you go. The idea of it was unbearable. But he knew Natasha was right. They couldn’t leave you here, not in this place, not like this.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Steve slowly stood, cradling you in his arms as if you were the most precious thing in the world—because to him, you were. He turned toward the exit, his steps heavy, each one feeling like it might be his last.

Steve couldn’t help but glance back one last time, as if hoping to see some sign that this wasn’t real—that you would wake up, that this nightmare would end. But there was nothing. Just the emptiness of a place that had taken so much from them.

They stepped out into the daylight, the sun glaringly bright against the backdrop of their sorrow. Steve’s grip on you tightened, and he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his heart breaking all over again. 

“I love you,” he whispered, the words catching in his throat. “I always will.”

But there was no answer, no sign of life. You were gone, and the world felt infinitely colder because of it.

So they left, carrying with him a loss that would never fully heal, a wound that would forever mark him. Steve walked with his head bowed, his shoulders slumped, the light in his eyes dimmed by the grief that had taken hold of him. 

[fob4ever]

i was at a bookstore yesterday that had a copy of the kerrang: living loud book that featured the FOB watergun fight article i've never seen transcribed anywhere so i made a transcript of it for archival purposes. enjoy! from kerrang, may 2005.

For a man staring down the barrel of a loaded gun while wearing just underpants, Fall Out Boy bassist Peter Wentz looks remarkably chipper. Especially when you consider the person about to unload in his face is guitarist and vocalist Patrick Stump, grinning madly despite the fact that fellow six-stringer Joe Trohman has a pistol to his temple. He in turn is firmly in the firing line of drummer Andy Hurley, cackling loudly with his finger hovering over the trigger.

Passers-by stop and stare, waiting for the inevitable, messy climax of this "Reservoir Dogs" scenario. The tension mounts, onlookers brace themselves, the band get ready to open fire. Suddenly it happens.

"Argh!" screams Wentz as several litres of icy water soak him. "That's fucking cold!"

No, Fall Out Boy aren't about to blow each other away, They're having a water fight for K!'s benefit in a car park at the Chicago stop on travelling punk circus Warped Tour, where they're knocking out their "softcore" wares ("We're basically a hardcore band that couldn't cut it as a hardcore band," laughs Wentz) on the main stage alongside big hitters like The Offspring, Avenged Sevenfold and My Chemical Romance. The Windy City is more than just another stop for them; Chicago is Fall Out Boy's hometown, the place where they formed out of the ashes of their old hardcore bands, and where they still live with their parents- who are here for today's show - during the few weeks of the year they're not on tour.

It all started for Fall Out Boy here in 2001 when the members wanted a break from playing in their various bands. Long time friends Wentz and Hurley got together with hardcore associate Joe Trohman to do something a bit less heavy. Following a conversation about avant-metallers Neurosis in a bookstore, Trohman introduced Stump to the rest of the band. When their other bands folded, they took on Fall Out Boy full time.

"We wanted to do things before we were ready," chuckles Peter Wentz fondly of the early days of DIY tours for the benefit of the one or two people who would show up. "We'd plan two-week tours, just to see the world. Nobody would book us, so we had to do it all on our own."

"A lot of bands have scenes to go into and surround themselves with those people," says Stump. "We had no scene, so we would just play anywhere, with whoever."

FOB have come a long way from their humble roots. Right now they're America's fastest rising band. Radio smash 'Sugar, We're Goin' Down' has placed them squarely in the mainstream, having spent three weeks as the Number One song on MTV's 'TRL', a prime-time show usually devoted to pop acts like Maroon 5 and Ashlee Simpson. So dizzying their Stateside assent has been, they had to cancel their recent European tour in order to play the MTV Music Video Awards, where they are also nominated for 'Sugar...'. Thankfully, FOB haven't let the screaming adoration turn them into big-headed twats.

"A piece of shit with legs on it could walk onto 'TRL' and people would still go crazy," laughs Wentz. "That stuff just goes straight by me. With the fast turnover in the music industry, how can anyone have an ego"

Andy Hurley chips in. "You can be today's main stage and tomorrow's trash."

That's to find out tomorrow, though. Today among the madness of trying to plan anything on the Warped Tour - stage times are decided daily by lottery - Fall Out Boy have to try and find time for hanging out with family and friends.

"Three weeks on Warped is like three months on a normal tour," says Peter Wentz.

"Home becomes like Atlantis on tour, you wonder if it actually exists after a while," adds Patrick Stump.

Now FOB are big stars, a lot of old 'friends' have been coming out of the woodwork. Joe Trohman and Peter Wentz have polarised views on those who didn't give a toss back in the day suddenly becoming your pal once you've made it.

"The way I look at it is if someone's a dick to you and you don't know them, so what?" says Trohman. "Just care about who did support you, keep those important people close, not the people who five years ago called you a loser."

"I work the opposite way!" Wentz counters, before adding darkly, "The people I think about most are enemies. My brain works on revenge!"

Though a tight knit group of close friends, Peter Wentz is clearly Fall Out Boy's spokesman. He does most of the talking during the interview and writes the lyrics, and seems like the most driven one of the lot. As well as doing Fall Out Boy, Wentz has also written a book with tattoo artist Joe Tesaure, 'The Boy With The Thorn In His Side'. It's a dark, twisted tale that could have come straight from the brain of Tim Burton.

"I've always been into Roahl Dahl and people like that, and I was friends with a tattoo artist at the time and we came up with this idea to do a book together," he explains. "It wasn't something I felt fitted in with what Fall Out Boy is, I hate when bands do something that's not 'them'. The book is what it is, and Fall Out Boy is what we are."

Despite all thise talk of nightmares and revenge, FOB are upbeat individuals, enjoying their newfound success, while refusing to allow success to go to their heads. They'll tell you they don't like the shallowness of groupies or industry parties, and that the trappings of rock stardom hold no appeal.

"I don't feel like I deserve it," says Wentz in closing. "It's not like, 'this amount of time and this amount of shows = this kind of bus'. I appreciate what we've got. We've toured in a tiny van and it was cool, but now we're having new adventures living like this. I don't feel we deserve it more than any other bands do."

He surveys the sumptuosly appointed tour bus for a moment before chuckling heartily.

"Actually, that's a lie, we totally deserve it more than anyone else! Ha ha!"

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#16: The Secret Rendezvous (1.02)

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Ok, this scene has got to be a Top 5 TOWL scene for me. I love everything about Richonne's secret rendezvous from the 🔥 walk-up at the beginning to the passionate embrace at the end 😍...

So first we see Michonne talking to some CRM leaders during a vetting process. And again TOWL stayed aware of Danai’s flawless face card with the close-up shot. Contrasting the start of the episode when she says her name is Michonne, here she’s following what Rick told her and changing her name to introduce the CRM and us to a B named Dana Bethune.

Michonne is in her acting bag as she shares, “My name is Dana. And I’ve been out there a long time by myself. So long that it’s strange to hear my own voice.” Michonne smartly mixes truths into her lies as she tells them “I was in Georgia for a long time with my boyfriend and about 40 people” She really was in Georgia with her boyfriend both from before the apocalypse and the boyfriend-turned-husband she found in season 3 😋. 

Michonne says their group was led by leaders who she thought were good and says she was with her sister Elle, who was the HR lady from the caravan group at the top of the ep. Michonne says, “And then things changed. They changed. I saw it. I knew we should go. You always really know when to go.” Look at her passing Nat’s mentality down to the CRM. 😊 I was like CRM, y’all should be scared because a loyal person like Michonne is going to make sure Nat’s death is avenged. 💯

She’s asked about her weapon of choice and she says a Bo staff that she lost and is now making do with a knife. Playing up a certain aloofness Michonne looks at herself in the reflection of a window or two-way mirror idk. And you know while they’re observing her, sis is also observing everything about this place while trying to just appear more meek and even ditzy.

They ask if it bothers her that she’s being watched and it already shows how privy she is to things that she can tell she’s being surveilled. She softly says, “No I just haven’t seen myself in a while.”

gif cred: @riickgrimes

The CRM folk start telling Michonne about the place and how she can never leave and you can just see Michonne have a subtle reaction like 'Yeah alright we’ll see about that.' She knows that never-leave rule is about to get broken. Best believe.

They ask how she feels about the fact that she can’t leave and Michonne smiles and says, “I feel that what’s here, it’s what I’ve been looking for. It’s what I’ve been trying to believe in just a little while longer.” And not a lie was told right here. 💁🏽‍♀️

They have her baby up in this place so they absolutely do have what she’s been looking for. And I love her referencing the 'believe a little longer' motto from the iPhone and also how it again affirms that she believes in Rick so much just like in Rick's dreams. He’s what she’s been believing in.

This was a greatly acted scene from Danai playing Michonne playing Dana playing the CRM. 🤭 Like I love that Michonne was sorta playing in the CRM's face a bit and it was just so clear the CRM does not stand a chance against this woman. She’s a mother on a mission. Nothing is stopping her. 👌🏽

So then we see Michonne walking around the CRM in a consignee jacket and I love that hers has a cinched waist. Michonne isn't letting that boxy jacket completely hide the Coca-Cola body. I’m here for it. 💅🏽

As Michonne walks around you can tell that, similar to Woodbury, she’s making note of quite a bit in this place - except this time she’s trying to blend in more like her husband told her. And the main thing Michonne clearly wants to know as she's walking around right now is - where is Rick Grimes.

She walks up some steps clearly trying to see where he could be, and even with all these CRM soldiers in helmets I know she’d be able to spot Rick if she saw him among them. And why? Because of that walk. 😏

But baby, she doesn’t have to spot him because of course the magnets in them have Rick spotting her first and making a beeline to her. I adore this walking moment. 🤩 I rewound it so much cuz I too love that man's walk lol.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

So Michonne is walking and then we see a soldier very intently making his way to her and I love the way it’s shot. Rick’s walk is iconic and so I love that that’s how you can immediately tell it’s him. And as we know, we’re not the only one who loves Rick’s walk because as he approaches Michonne and quietly takes her arm Michonne has this instant smitten smile upon recognizing his touch and walking alongside him. 😊

This scene made it clear that TOWL was gonna have a lot of fun with Richonne’s love and desire being at the foundation of the show. And you just know Rick was eagerly waiting for the moment he could get to her. He was a man on a mission. A mack-on-Michonne mission. 😌

And the moment as he takes her arm and silently guides her into a room is just hot, what can I say? 🔥

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I love seeing Rick take control and seeing Michonne try to be subtle but clearly look so excited to be back with him. 😊

Also, now y’all when would a soldier…especially this soldier, grab a consignee by her arm and guide her into a room alone lol? That alone likely would've raised suspicions around the CRM. But I'm glad they did it anyway cuz it was a joy to see Rick and Michonne walk side by side again. CRM, y’all don’t even know you now have the most lethal married couple in your midst walking arm and arm rn. 🤭

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick leads her into the room and gives one last look outside to make sure no one is headed their way. The way he looks around before going inside, you know he knows exactly what they're about to do.

So then we get a top-tier scene as Rick and Michonne walk into the garage?? Idk what that place was exactly so I’ll just call it a garage lol. 

Rick and Michonne walk into the garage and give each other a quick look before checking to make sure the coast is clear. Rick checks one side and Michonne checks the other and then y’all, Rick has a very clear mission and it’s not swapping information it’s swapping saliva lol. I promise you, dishing out information and making a plan was secondary on the agenda for Rick during this secret rendezvous. 😋

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick proceeds to put his helmet down and before Michonne can even confirm that she doesn’t see anybody on her side, Rick grabs her and they basically pounce on each other with kisses and it’s the best. 😊They both are starving for each other and this kiss made it clear.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

You can tell the moment Rick put that helmet down he was laser-focused on loving on Michonne. He basically said I’ll brief you on this mysterious advanced society that’s kept me from you for years if we have time in between the main priority of making out.

I adore the way he grabs her neck and then the way Michonne is always ready to match the energy as she wraps her arms around him. And y’all, how nice of them to have a kiss that is as pleasing to the ear as it is to the eye because they, and Rick especially, stayed moaning in these TOWL kisses. Love to see it/hear it. 😋

I always say Richonne’s kisses are a form of communication and their first wordless conversation in the CRM - or 'moanversation' if you will - had them both making it very clear to each other that they’re ecstatic to be back together.  

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And after almost 8 years apart, the intensity of this kiss makes perfect sense, and I love that they knew exactly how to communicate how hungry Richonne are for each other in every way. This kiss is A1. 👏🏽

Like the way they lean against the vehicle and Rick puts his arm up against the vehicle to be mindful of Michonne adds such a cute caring layer to this whole top-tier moment. And the way they’re swaying and wrapped up in each other, her knees buckling, his hands in her hair, the way he chased her lips at the end. Just yes to all of it. 👏🏽

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

I love how the kiss is so immensely passionate and then afterward they just have this moment of holding each other and breathing together. Seeing the way Michonne smiles after and touches his face, you can seriously see how safe she feels with Rick. Like she still knows so little about this place but she’s back in his arms so she knows somehow it’ll be okay. 🥲

And then y’all, we get the first signature Richonne forehead touch in TOWL as they break from the kiss and still stay wrapped in each other's arms. It's one of the classic Richonne things they do and I love the intimacy of it. 🥹

gif cred: @lousolversons

That kiss clearly left them breathless as Rick whispers, “They believed you.” And Michonne earnestly asks, “How do you know?” Rick says, “You’re here.” And the way he says that you can tell his elation comes not just from the fact that she passed the CRM vetting process but most of all that she’s really here with him after all this time.

And then because Rick is like this rendezvous is about making out first, information second - he goes right back to kissing Michonne and moaning as they pull each other in as close as possible. 😊

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne reciprocates but then she notices something. And this is where the loss of Rick’s hand is mourned yet again by me because we all know the reason Michonne notices Rick’s missing hand is because she’s like normally this would be the part where I feel your hand on my backside but it hasn’t happened yet so, something must have happened.

After not feeling that signature palm on her behind, she stops to touch Rick’s prosthetic and I adore how Rick is still so in the moment of kissing her that he kisses her one more time as she turns to look at his arm. The man is voracious about his wife and I love it. 😊

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne gently holds his prosthetic in her hand and looks at Rick with so much care and concern as she wonders what happened. I feel like this is the first time in years that anybody showed this level of care for what Rick went through and I love that she immediately wants to know what happened to her baby. You know if the CRM had cut his hand off themselves the beef she has with them would only intensify. In a way, the CRM did have a hand in Rick losing his hand so they gotta pay.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick looks down at his prosthetic too and shares sadly but also with a certain resolve, “It happened a long time ago. One of the last times I tried to get home.”  I love that he says 'tried to get home' rather than just 'tried to get away.' It shows that in every way the CRM is not home - Michonne and their family still are home to him.

Also, it’s interesting how for Michonne this is devastating news but for Rick, this is old news and he’s just like what’s more important is making out rn. But Rick’s words catch Michonne’s attention as she repeats his words back and says, “One of the last times?”

This is Michonne’s first indicator that Rick might have stopped trying to get home. I think in her mind she thought surely Rick would have been still working on an escape but after fighting like hell to get home for years he had to stop trying - and not even because he wanted to give up but because he was made to feel that going home could get his wife and loved ones killed.

(Side note: I love that the bullet shell from Rick's gun is visible in Michonne’s hair in this scene. She really found every way possible to still be close to him 🥲) 

gif cred: @nat111love

Rick’s reaction to her asking this makes me emotional. 😢 He looks into her eyes as he too hears how his words sound and then he takes a deep breath. Breathing tells a very informative story throughout TOWL. And with this inhale from Rick you can just feel the weight of what he’s been through and now, finally having a moment to share some of it with Michonne, it’s probably difficult for him to even know where to begin.

gif cred: @nat111love

It’s hard because we as the audience got to see how hard he fought to get home but at this moment you know it's overwhelming to even know how to tell Michonne how hard this years-long separation and imprisonment has been on him. But he so badly wants Michonne to know that it wasn’t for a lack of trying or a lack of love that he stopped trying to get home.

He tells her, “They had me trapped.” And then the way my heart literally overflows with emotion when Rick so sincerely says, “They don’t have me anymore.” It’s so moving and beautiful to see Rick become the heart-eye emoji as he tells Michonne they don’t have him anymore. 🥲

There’s a clear second part of that sentence that’s not said aloud but rather in Rick's eyes - 'they don’t have me anymore...because I’m yours.'

gif cred: @riickgrimes

The way he looks at her with that teary-eyed smile, knowing he’s hers. 😭 It's touching and layered because he so sincerely wants to reassure Michonne of this, all while knowing that the damage they've done to him is pretty severe.

It’s also so powerful for him to say this because while their situation is still dire and in many ways, Michonne and us will learn the CRM does still have him more than he’d like, in this moment Rick genuinely wants to believe that he’s no longer chained to the CRM.

They don’t get to have him anymore, even if that’s what it still looks like on the outside, because the woman who makes him come alive, the brightest light in his world, is back with him. That alone makes him feel like he is no longer stuck with the CRM.

Rick knows his heart will always belong to her and that was communicated in this sweet line and his loving eyes and smile at her after he says it. 

Rick then says with certainty, “We will get away. Together” because right now he does believe that Richonne can do anything. He’s tried to get away for years but having Michonne here now makes all the difference.

gif cred: @nat111love

And I love the eye contact as he looks at her with so much love and smiles, feeling so right being back with her. Like just looking at her gives him strength. At the same time, it moves me how much you can see in his eyes that he's eager to be the determined and strong man Michonne once knew, despite feeling dead and broken after what he endured the last seven or so years.

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne of course believes and is comforted by Rick’s words that they’ll get away together as she smiles and nods. Again she trusts him more than anybody in the world. 

gif cred: @nat111love

Also, I love how Rick’s reunion with Michonne as his wife is one where without even having to address it they both just know they’ve waited for each other. They know they’re still the one to each other. As we know, after just a few months Rick reunited with Lori and she was already pregnant with his best friend's baby. So it’s beautiful to see Rick now reunite with his wife Michonne after years and know that she really has only wanted him all these years. And if anything her big reveal will be that she was pregnant with his baby. 🥲

But while that's understandably not revealed in this scene, there's still some more great mom and dad content when Rick again wants to confirm his baby girl is okay.

He asks, “They're okay? She's okay?” I love him asking that and the way he asks, nodding and looking right into Michonne's eyes. Again it’s so vulnerable and caring. A true father. You know making sure his loved ones are good is so important to him.

gif cred: @bizarre-hostile

And “they’re okay” means team family which is sweet that he wants to know they're okay. I liked hearing "they're okay?" too because while Rick doesn't know it, he does in fact have more than one kid out there and it almost felt like without even knowing it he’s asking if both his kids are okay.

Michonne answers with a smile and says, “Yes. She’s okay.” She has this smile that’s so specific to when she’s thinking about her kids and it’s precious. 🥲

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Michonne continues, wanting to finally tell Rick all about how amazing their daughter has turned out as she goes, “She’s…” but then she stops herself and you just know the image of a certain Little Brave Man has popped into her head. 😭

And it’s a moment that hits my heart as you see Michonne feel both joy and sadness. Because she misses RJ too and because she knows Rick is going to be filled with layered emotions the second he learns of him.

Since the moment she found out she was pregnant you know Michonne longed to be able to share with Rick that they had a baby. Rick can tell she has something big to say too as he asks, “What is it?”

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I noted in this scene you can really tell that Rick can sense that Michonne has something major to tell him and he knows it’s about their immediate family but he doesn’t know what it is which is why he keeps thinking it might have to do with Judith being okay. Like you can see sometimes he searches her eyes trying to figure it out because whatever the news is he can feel it’s about their kid. And he’s right. It's just about the kid he doesn't know of yet.

And you can also see the thoughts running through Michonne’s head as she and Rick stay in each other's arms between these vehicles. She longs to tell him about RJ but knows this isn’t the right time yet. And as always, she’s right. I heard there were some viewers upset and thinking she made the wrong choice by not telling Rick right here and now and that was wild to me.

This is Richonne’s first time getting to even have an extended conversation and even then it can’t be that long because they can’t risk being caught. And major life-changing news that you have a son that you had no clue about and have missed all of his life thus far is not the kind of thing to drop on someone when there won’t even be time to elaborate and ask questions and just process the news together.

I fully support Michonne choosing to wait and it’s actually such an act of kindness to Rick because she knows that news is going to shock him and be very bittersweet and just a lot to take in and she ideally wants to tell him when they can more freely talk.

Like after holding their child in her womb alone she basically chooses to now hold the news of their son alone just a bit more for Rick’s well-being.

Rather than just drop it on him and have him carry that news on top of carrying the task of getting them home, she shows discipline and restraint and lovingly smiles as she tells him, “When we get away.” (Also I always just love thinking that when Michonne looks at Rick here she’s seeing all of RJ’s little traits he got from his dad. 🥰)

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I adore the way Rick says, “No. She’s okay?” He’s such a concerned dad and again he knows, because of his and Michonne’s interconnectedness, that there’s something more she has to say about their immediate family. I just love that he’s like I can’t wait until we get away to know for certain our baby girl is okay. But Rick, little do you know the news is actually about your beautiful baby boy.

Also, the fact that Rick is so not okay after everything he’s been through all these years but his main care is that Judith is okay 🥲. Warms my heart.

And then the way Michonne responds, it’s my favorite thing ever. 🥹She says the absolute perfect thing as she assuredly tells him, “She’s us, Rick.”

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Y’all. 😭 It’s the perfect response and so true. Judith really is a little Richonne baby. 🥹

It’s so beautiful for Michonne to tell Rick that their daughter is just like her mom and her dad. Rick gets to know not only is their baby alive and okay but she has qualities like him even despite his absence and she’s also like the love of his life which you know would make him happy to see Judith turn out like Michonne.

I love that Michonne looks at Judith and sees her and Rick. 🥹 And that they’re an 'us' like that. And also I love the way Michonne has her hand in Rick’s hair as she comforts him with this confirmation that their baby girl is bound to be okay because she’s just like her resilient parents.

Michonne calmly says, “The rest when we get away” and hearing Judith is them is enough for Rick to feel a bit less anxious and agree to wait for the rest of the family updates. 

gif cred: @riickgrimes

He nods and then remembers this is probably also a good time to get their next steps in order.

Rick tells Michonne if he passes her a note somehow she has to read it and destroy it. Michonne looks into Rick’s eyes because she has to address some things about this shady CRM as she tells him, “They killed people, Rick. Dozens of people.” I know Michonne is like my friends died and I almost died from these people so wth is this place? (Also I love how often she says Rick’s name since they've reunited.)

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

As Rick mesmerizingly stares into her soul (and i'm not even exaggerating about that lol) Michonne says, “They’re killing people out there. Have you had to…?” And before she can finish the question, Rick is quick to want to make it clear that he means it when he says he’s not with them as he says, “No. No. The ones in red. They go out sometimes. They come back covered in blood.”

He looks at her toward the tail end of that statement but it’s interesting how for the most part he looks down when talking about the CRM, again almost like there’s this sense of shame and fear surrounding them.

He says, “Most of us don’t know what they do. I didn’t know.” Rick looks into Michonne's eyes as he admits to not knowing about the CRM's mass killings and then he vulnerably says, “But I knew. I was stuck here.” That’s the one thing the CRM made very clear to him. 

Seeing the toll the CRM has taken on her friends and now her husband, Michonne knows the CRM needs to be taught a lesson and brought down so she, as determined as ever, asks Rick, “Could we stop them?”

And y’all I absolutely adore Rick’s response to her. 😍 The way a big smile spreads across his face as he gets to see Michonne is still the woman he knows and loves who won’t take anything lying down. She's still her. Again, you just see him have so much love for the part of her that’s a fighter. Like the way Rick just has to swoon for a second over his wife's determination is the sweetest thing. 😊

But then Rick collects himself, knowing taking on the CRM is too risky as he definitively answers, “No.” Michonne takes a moment to look at Rick, surprised and searching for the man who was always willing to fight the fight with her before. Then she asks, “Could we try?” 

Rick is quiet for a moment, not wanting to have to just turn her down about this, but he knows a thing or two about how hard you can try against the CRM and they still come out on top. So he softly says, “We’d never get back.” Getting home with Michonne is the ultimate priority for him.

And then in the first of many times Rick will gift Michonne in TOWL, he reaches into his pocket and gives Michonne Nat’s signature lighter that his stepparent Danger gave him. 🥹

Once again Rick wins Husband of the Year because how sweet is his good kind heart that he saw the lighter in the woods and pocketed it knowing it would mean something to Michonne to have something of her late friend. He’s the best. 🥰 And I love the way he gently lifts up her hand with his prosthetic to give her the lighter and the way their hands linger in each other as she takes it. Every time they touch it's clear they're magnets. 🧲

Rick so sweet and sincere says, “I’m sorry about your friend.” Like truly, anything and anyone that means something to Michonne means something to Rick because he loves her so much - even the guy who nearly killed Rick by shooting down his helicopter.

Michonne, never one to forget her loved ones' memory, says, “He should’ve lived. They all should’ve lived.” But then she takes a quiet moment and confidently looks right into Rick’s eyes as she says, “I’m here now. We’re in here together now. And we’re gonna get home.”

gif cred: @ddesole

I love how Rick and Michonne both want to fervently reassure each other of this - that they’re in this together and they’re going to achieve their goal of getting home because they’re here as a unit now. Having each other back makes them know they can do anything…at least for now. 

And then Rick is ready to go back to the activity that was always at the top of his agenda for this secret rendezvous because he’s like 'Michonne, you can’t be a hotly determined A like that and think these magnets aren’t going to kick in to overdrive and have me eating your face again lol.' #DirectQuote 😋

So Rick of course leans in to kiss her again and Michonne looks like she might’ve thought they were going to continue the conversation but then of course it takes less than a second for her to reciprocate the energy and start passionately kissing him back.

gif cred: @hikarielizabethbloom

I really adore that closing kiss. These kisses stay feeling like they’re trying to inhale each other and physically morph into one being. and then I especially adore the way they embrace after it, just overcome with the amount of love they pour out to each other. It’s so sweet seeing them nestled into each other. 🥰 Every physical Richonne action, from the kisses, the forehead touches, the embraces, and more is so 'spine-tinglingly' intimate.

As Rick leans against her, you can see that he does feel a bit overwhelmed and unsure of how he’s gonna get them out of here. But being wrapped in her arms now he’s at least given the strength and the calm to know somehow they’ll find a way.

And as Michonne holds him close, she looks like so long as she has him, she’ll face whatever else may come her way in this giant mysterious place. It really does feel like she's transferring this much-needed uplifting energy and reassurance to him as they stay in this embrace.

The way Richonne gives each other life gives me life. And this scene makes me so happy like it’s oozing serotonin.

Richonne is in for quite a roller coaster after they leave this moment in the garage so I appreciate this scene - their first extended conversation in years - for giving them a time when they're on the same page.

With this scene, they got to show that their chemistry is still as fiery as ever and they’re still such a well-oiled machine as parents and partners. Whenever Rick and Michonne are in each other's arms they’re in the safest place they could be.

But while they’re the ultimate safety to each other, to the CRM...Richonne is most definitely the danger. 😌👌🏽

[fluffyfantasticducky]

Reasons to Like You

☆ Pairing: Loki x Reader ☆ Synopsis: Loki isn't the most laid back person, he is hard on others but mostly on himself... That is, until someone even worse than he is catches his little heart. ☆ Word Count: 3,313... sorry it's a bit short, huh? ☆ Notes: Another request for the lovely @blehblahsworld. Loki is shy ler, mutual pining idiots. I promised it'd be posted today and there's still like 30 minutes left of the day so I honoured my promise. ☆ Warnings: None, I think. Loki is a mess cuz he can't handle having a crush.

Oh, the comfort of a life on Earth. Not something any Asgardian would have expected when they arrived after all they had been through. Much less… this Asgardian.

Loki expected anything but bliss when he came to live among the Avengers. When he woke up living in the house of his enemies, he was rightfully on edge. Although Thor quickly wrapped his arms around him and filled him in. He had been saved after 5 years of becoming dust during the snap of the 5 infinity stones, which ironically spared his life.

But after his physical recovery and adaptation period with living in the compound… And there was a little someone who made the whole process much easier. A special little someone.

You were… Norns, where could he start? You were… a lot. In the best and worst sense of the word.

On one hand, you were messy, energetic, loud… just a smaller and slightly less annoying version of his brother. In fact, you two were great friends, much to Loki’s dismay. Loud nights of karaoke and dancing in the leisure room, begging for Tony to organize parties that would give Loki a headache. You constantly interrupted Loki’s reading to come chat or beg him to play together to some nonsense game or watch a movie. The amount of times you’d invade his personal space with hugs, pokes, grabbing his arm to take him somewhere… it was all unnerving.

On the other hand, and even worse than all he mentioned, Loki couldn’t get you out of his head. Your loudness, your playfulness, that smile of yours, your goofy laugh so out of place when you got nervous, the way he wanted to run his hands along your body… ah! It was too much!

And it wasn’t that Loki hadn’t been interested on others before. He had had more lovers than the average human lifespan. So why were you so difficult to handle? What was so special about you that he’d be turning in his bed late at night thinking about you? He couldn’t quite put it into words.

“Loki? Brother?” a voice snapped him out of his thoughts, along with a gentle knock on the door. “It’s late, are you not having breakfast with us?”

Loki stood up and opened the door to join his brother in the hall.

“I apologize brother, I must have lost track of time.” Loki shrugged it off as he ran his hands through his hair to fix it.

“No kidding,” Thor chuckled. “Look at you, when was the last time you slept?”

“Oh, like you would be one to judge me” Loki scoffed. “When did you all go to bed last night?”

“Not as early as you, old witch” Thor laughed. “It’s a shame you didn’t stay longer, our little friend was really upset you didn’t dance together.”

Loki had to fight an ear-to-ear grin. You had been looking for him? To dance… together? The way you all dance in Midgard these days? Oh gods, the one night his patience had run thin and made him excuse himself to go to bed.

It was still engrained in his brain.

You had jumped onto a coffee table, shaking your hips to the beat of the music, your body moving in perfect sync to the melody. And to be perfectly fair, it wasn’t anything outrageous to Earth’s standards, you were mostly goofing around and more often than not you’d double over laughing, flustered at your own antics. Unfortunately for his heart, Loki wasn’t from Earth, and he was not at all accustomed to those sights that kept him awake all night.

“I apologize for my unfortunate coordination with the mortal’s plans” Loki responded simply, despite mentally cursing himself.

Thor chuckled.

“I’m sure it will all be forgiven by the end of the week” he assured Loki. “You may get another chance to dance together.”

“What? Again? Don’t mortals tire out faster than us?” Loki asked. “How is it that there’s always some new event approaching?”

“It sure is lively around here, isn’t it?” Thor laughed. “Stark said it was a last-minute invitation, but Rogers mentioned it’d be important for us to assist, improving the opinion of the locals. Which you could still benefit from…”

“I suppose” Loki muttered. “Still… I hope it’s the last one in a while, it can get frustrating having to put up a perfection facade…”

“You are being dramatic brother.” Thor laughed.

“Am I?” Loki asked sarcastically. “Does it really not remind you the the banquets at the palace, always having to make political relationships by…”

“Oh brother, you are being dramatic. You really shouldn’t overthink all you do, if you think like that of course you won’t enjoy these silly Midgardian parties, for me, it reminds me of that tavern we used to go when we were younger. A chance to dance and perhaps flirt around every night with some nice ale and good friends.”

“Flirt around?” Loki chuckled at the Midgardian expression. “Don’t let Lady Jane hear you, brother. I thought you imprudent, but never to such an extent.”

“Oh, no, no.” Thor shook his head. “Those days are behind me, I am quite content in my relationship. I meant for you, brother.”

“Why would I want to flirt around?” Loki raised an eyebrow.

“Well, it is true you already have your interest captured by a local…”

“I have no clue what you’re blabbering on about, brother” Loki assured him. “And for your information, I am perfectly content the way my life is right now.”

Thor burst out laughing.

“That is splendid news brother” he chuckled, wiping a tear of mirth. “But I’ve been by your side since you were a small baby, I know when you’re interesting in someone.”

“You’ve never seen me interested in anyone” Loki retorted.

“Sure I have.” Thor chuckle. “Beyond the romances that lasted a single night, let’s see… You saw Angrboda for a while but it ended in nothing, you had a crush on Sygin for while but she was with Theoric which you tried impersonating but guilt ate you up, I recall you and Sif saw each other secretly when…”

“Alright, I got it!” Loki cut him off, not exactly eager to hear all his past romantic miseries all over again. “You are aware of my past, understood.”

Loki was a bit surprised, though. He always thought he was being discrete. Unlike Thor, who would shamelessly (and rather loudly) flirt in the tavern or at royal parties with whoever he wanted; Loki had an infinitely more subtle approach. Loki would strike conversations with his interest, in a much more subtle seduction. Loki was more the type to swoon with his wit and the perfect praise, taking advantage of being the less favored prince in terms of affection to escape into the night to seal the deal. He was so sure no one noticed his absence, much less Thor, who Loki thought too busy being the center of attention to care if Loki left the party early. Especially Sif, which was a whole new ordeal he didn’t even want to talk about.

He was a bit moved, really… in a very weird way, but it was moving.

“See? I know who you have a crush on” Thor chuckled. “You should really go for it.”

“Can you stop talking like a Midgardian?” Loki groaned. “It’s unnerving.”

“Sorry brother, it’s entertaining to see how much it frustrates you.” Thor grinned like a cheeky brat. “But I mean it, you won’t know if your feelings are reciprocated if you don’t ask.”

“Alright, alright.” Loki scoffed out a laugh. “Can’t believe I’m taking advice from you imbecile.”

“I would be offended, but I know the satisfaction of seeing you frustrated over being the idiotic one is more than enough.” Thor smiled and turned around.

“Weren’t you gonna have breakfast?” Loki asked.

“I already did” Thor smiled. “But I know of someone who will be happy to have some company during breakfast.”

Loki felt his heartbeat accelerating as he turned around the corner and saw you, finishing a sandwich and grabbing a mug of coffee. Your hair was messy, the pajamas you were wearing were a couple of sizes bigger than your frame and your eyes were half closed.

It was adorable.

“Good morning” Loki bowed his head politely.

“Mo—” you were cut off by a huge yawn. “Morning, Loki. Slept well? You left the party earlier last night.”

“I’m terribly sorry” Loki apologized timidly. “I didn’t feel well.”

“It’s okay…” you smiled at him and took a sip of your coffee, and Loki felt the energy from the coffee. “It wasn’t as fun once you left.”

Loki’s breath hitched and smiled nervously at you. He looked around, unsure if he was allowed to look at you more than a few glances every so often. But he caught the sight of you making a sandwich.

“I’m gonna eat breakfast on the loungeroom, wanna join me?” you offered with two more slices at bread for him.

“A-Ah, sure…” Loki nodded.

You made him a sandwich and served him a mug of coffee. Loki smiled at you and bowed his head gently at you in a thank you.

Both of you walked to eat by the TV. You handed him the remote control for him to choose. He gulped and looked at the screen, he swore his hand was shaking like a Chihuahua. He had no idea how to use modern technology… or well… not day to day technology.

Spaceships? Sure. Hacking the security of a overly complex computers? Piece of cake. But using his own cellphone or browsing the internet and a smart TV? Oh, honey…

And then he heard you giggle.

“What?” Loki asked, unable to fight a nervous smile.

“Oh nothing” you giggled. “Nothing…”

“No, what? Tell me…” he chuckled and scooted closer to you.

“N-No, nothing…!” you giggled nervously.

Now, smitten or not, mockery was something he would never tolerate unpunished… not fully anyway.

“Oh, you’ll regret that” he growled and before you could ask, straddled you, wiggling his fingers at you.

“E-Eh?” the way you smiled was tense, but also skeptic, like you didn’t believe what was clearly about to happen.

Before you asked, his fingers shot to your sides, poking and prodding the sensitive skin, immediately making you squeal.

“Lohohohoki! Whahahat are you doing?!” you protested.

“You asked for it, you menace.” Loki chuckled, drilling his index fingers to your sides, still careful enough to avoid hurting you.

“Lohohohohoki! I’m sorry!” you whined, sounding more lost than actually apologetic.

Loki made his distaste for your actions clear by tickling you mercilessly. But it was clear you weren’t sure what you were apologizing for, and it still sounded honest.

Seriously, it should be considered foul play being endearing like that.

“I can’t go around letting cheeky mortals like you think they can disrespect the God of Mischief without consequence.” Loki spoke in a low, teasing tone.

He let it slide the fact that anyone else would’ve ended with a dagger on their gut or at least an insult so vile that would have made them storm out of the room. But it’s not like Loki was going to notify you over the little soft spot he had for you… although, to balance things out, it was easier for you to provoke him into this sort of silly “punishments”.

“Whahahahahat did Ihihi dohohohohoho?!” you complained, your hands latching to his wrists in a weak attempt to push him away.

“I saw you laughing at me, so by simply logic, I had to give you something to really laugh about.” He growled maliciously as his fingers continued their malicious dance along your skin.

Loki was skilled with his hands and fingers, double entendere aside. Being a sorcerer required precision of mind and hand movement, given a wrong angle could make a vanishing spell burn your eyebrows instead. As a proper prince, he was skilled with the quill and had a neat and elegant handwriting as well as an at least decent skill with the flute, the lute and the piano. Which Loki loved to clarify that by “proper prince”, he actually meant “not Thor” whose handwriting was a illegible and could only play percussions like a toddler… But he was a stronger fighter, Loki could give him that.

But it also meant he was a deadly tickler. Being perceptive and cunning like a good trickster didn’t really help your cause either.

He raised upwards, giving you a sort of break, reducing the intensity of the tickling. But his hand soon lowered ceremoniously back to make deadly contact with your skin again. This time gently wiggling behind your earshell.

“EEK! W-What are you doing?” your shoulders shut up, before your hands reached to cover your ears with your hands.

“Mmm, it was just a little test.” Loki hummed. “And I must say, I’m more than pleased with the result.”

Loki chuckled and his hands went to your sides, squeezing and kneading your ribs like dough.

“AIEE!” you squeaked and your arms went down to protect your sides. “Loki!”

Loki smiled menacingly and decided a new course of action.

He tickled your sides for a couple of seconds, before going back to tickle your ears so you’d raise your arms to protect them, just to go back to your sides after a bit.

“Hahahahahaha! L-Loki! P-Please! Hahahahahahaha! S-Stop it! Hehehehe! Hahahahaha!”

The pokes and tickly caresses went all over your skin, making you squeal and screech. But there was nothing you could do against someone stronger than you.

“Lohohohoki!” your hips wiggled from side to side in a helpless giggle fit.

But just when you thought it couldn’t get worse…

“EEEEEEEK!” you screeched when you felt Loki’s hands sneaking under your armpits, it was so loud and high pitched that Loki was startled.

“Oh, my my my…” he grinned mischievously. “What was that?”

“N-No… Loki! L-Loki…!” you pleased your hands before you, trying to protect yourself. “Loki! LOKI! LOHOHOHOHOHOHOKI!”

You didn’t have to be a detective to figure out that Loki, being the cheekiest of souls, would take advantage of this new tickle spot.

“NOHOHOHOHOHO! NO LOHOHOHOHOKI! PLEHEHEHEASE! HAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHA!” you squealed and squirmed like a fish out of water. “LOKI! LOHOHOHOKI! PLEAHAHAHAHASE!”

His fingers traced along your armpits, he was excited like a little kid finding the secret hiding place of the birthday presents. You were going crazy. He couldn’t stop himself, gently caressing and scratching the sensitive skin on your underarms to make you squeal until your face was bright red and your eyes were glistening with tears of mirth.

“PLEASE! AHAHAHAHA! OW! PLEASE! HAHAHAHA!” you guffawed and kicked your legs around as if that somehow would ease up the tickly sensations. But your sides were burning from laughing and it wasn’t pleasant. “OW! P-PLEASE! HEHEHEHE!”

“Oh, alright…” he smiled softly and retreated his hands from you.

Your chest was heaving from laughter and giggles were hoarse and tired. You wiped the tears off your face placed your hand on your chest to feel your own accelerated heartbeat.

“Hahahaha…!” you giggled and panted, trying to control yourself from the aftermath of tickly giggles. “Alright… I had that coming… I- I guess. Hehehe…”

“Oh gods, I adore you…” Loki blurted out, freezing at the weight the honesty of his words carried.

Simply because that was him. He was a deceiver, a conniver, a scammer, a trickster. But now? Truth had poured out of his mouth like a waterfall, cold and refreshing… He loved you. He had been lying to himself for so long that once he said it out loud, to you no less, it felt good, more than good.

“What?” you asked.

“I love you” he repeated.

But the look on your face made his stomach sink. You looked horrified.

“…why me?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” he asked, already feeling the crushing weight of rejection weighing him down.

“What do you think I mean?” you grumbled.

Of course you wouldn’t like him. You were the sunshine incarnate, you were kind and friendly, you were smart enough to crush down any silly preconception of human life being dull and silly like it had been thin and cheap glass, to the point of him feeling like the fool. You had brought him down to his knees. You had a power of a goddess.

No way you would reciprocate his feelings.

“What could you see in me…?” you smiled, but your eyes revealed distress. “I- Loki… look at me!”

Loki blinked at you, speechless. Which unknowingly giving you a window to keep talking.

“I’m everything that annoys you. I like going dancing, I like singing and being loud. I hate being around people but being alone stresses me out.” You huffed out. “Loki… I’m…”

“Perfect.” Loki finished for you, breathless.

“A nuisance.” You corrected him. “Loki, you’ll get tired of me by the end of the week.”

Loki felt angry, how could you speak so ill of yourself? You are a balm in chaotic world. And you hated every bit of yourself, every sweet and lovable inch of yourself. It was a self-hatred he knew very well. One type of felt hatred he lived with every day.

And he knew often there was only one way to help.

He pulled you against his chest and jabbed your sides.

“EEEEEK!” you screeched. “L-LOKI?! What are you doing?!”

“Mm, just helping your thoughts shut up…” Loki smiled cheekily as his fingers danced along your armpits once more.

“AIIIIEEEEE! LOKIHIHIHIHIHI!” you squealed.

“Yes, my darling?” he purred.

“S-STOP IT!” you cried. “HAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHO! WHY?!”

“I’m merely providing a pleasant distracting you from those nasty thoughts of yours” he said in a faux innocent tone.

“PLEHEHEHEHASANT?!” you whined between your loud laughter.

Loki nodded but agreed that maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do going for the spot that made you nearly burn out your lungs. So, being the angel he was, he moved down to tickle your belly giving you a break… sort of.

“Lohohohoki! Hehehehe! Hahahahaha! Oh my gohohohod!”

Loki chuckled at your laugher, that, in his defense, came down an octave after moving to a less deadly spot. But your rich giggles kept pouring out like a waterfall, fresh and healing to him.

His finger gently tickled around your waist line, which made you squeak and giggle in a high pitch.

“EEK! Heeheeheehee! EEP! Heeheeheehee!”

“Norns…” Loki complained quietly.

“Lohohohohoki!” you giggled when his fingers pinched around your navel. “P-Plehehehease, n-no more…! Hahahaha!”

“Oh, alright” he smiled lovingly at you.

As he saw you trying to catch your breath again, the loud drumming of his own heartbeat became overwhelming. Oh, how helpless he was… Yes, he had been the one tickling you silly. But, truthfully, he was the one at your mercy here.

“Hehehehe… ohh… hic! Hehehehe! Hic! Hehehehe!” you giggled. “T-That w-was hmph!”

Loki could take it anymore, he had pressed his lips against yours, a bit panicked at first… Did he read the room wrong? Did you not like him like thaaaaat…

Feeling you kiss back was… in a single word: mind-blowing. On one hand, it melted away all his fears, all the tension, all the mess he had been since his heart fell on his knees at your mercy… just undone… like the most powerful magic he could do. On the other hand, kissing you was like a dream, you were sweet, passionate, loving. Although he’d never admit it, he got a little flutter on his stomach thinking maybe… just maybe, you had liked him back all along.

“Ah… heh… um…”  you looked at him nervously. “D-Do you think maybe… would you like to come to the party with me? You know… t-together… officially…”

Loki smiled fondly and leaned in for another kiss.

“I would be honored, dear.”

Masterpost

[arlana-likes-to-write]

oh god i think i have an idea for kate x yelena x reader??

maybe something before the 3 kids?

(i was on twitter the other day and i read about people saying the importance of feeling represeted in fics, and i thought about this lately, so uhm from my pov, i would like to uhm propose like a reader with maybe selfharm addiction??? maybe reader doesn't say that she relapsed because kate and yelena have other thoughts like missions and mission reports and hard training and she do not want to be a burden??? but like she doesn't realize that she matters more than all those things to Kate and Yelena and almost towards the end reader can no longer hold the weight inside and one evening she confesses it to them??? gosh this is a lot i know lol

(I HAVE TOTALLY NO IDEA IF YOU WRITE ABOUT THIS TOPICS if not im sorry for the request but this is something that is stuck with me but im getting better, so yeah sorry)

Take My Hand

This is a prequel to Domestic Life but can be read as a standalone.

Warning: mention of past and current self-harm, online bulling, self deprecating thoughts, poor self image, implied sexual content (Kate and Yelena are down bad for their girlfriend), pet names (princess; baby, babygirl)

Breathe. Breathe. Take five breaths in and five out. Your hands shook every time you passed your brush through your hair. The only sound your brain was registering was the music Kate demanded to play so you all could get ready. There was a party at the Avenger Tower; some active Avengers were invited, along with politicians and other top-dog individuals in the city. You weren’t worried about that. You spent so many years in customer service that you could talk to anyone smoothly. It was the media that worried you.

The world knew that Kate and Yelena were dating; they were among the most talked about couples behind Natasha and Maria. You’ve spent hours scrolling through blogs created for them where random people reposted pictures and kept updated on every aspect of their lives. It was a little weird. It was always Yelena and Kate, Hawkeye and the White Widow for a few years. Recently, they’ve hinted at a third in their relationship that many blogs caught on to. That third was you, and for the past five months, the two superheroes kept you out of the public eye. They wanted to keep you to themselves. Everything changed now that Kate wanted to take you on dates.

You were anxious. Compared to the likes of the Avengers, you were a no-one. Just a small-town girl who got lucky their car broke down in your town.

Suddenly, Kate’s arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush to her chest. “Where did your mind run off to, Princess?” Her chest rumbled after each word, and her lips tickled you underneath your ear.

“Just,” you giggled. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” You tried to escape, but Kate held you tighter and rubbed soothing circles onto your skin.

“Princess,” she warned. “You know the rules.” In your opinion, it was a stupid rule, but you knew it was to foster better communication between you three.

“Just nervous,” you answered honestly. Kate nodded your head and hummed in agreement.

“So am I,” she admitted. You looked at her in shock. “I am,” she smiled. “Everyone is going to see how much hotter and cooler my girlfriend is than me, and they are going to convince her to leave me,” she looked directly at you, so you knew who she was talking about. With a roll of your eyes, you faced back towards the mirror.

“You are such a dork, Bishop,” you mumbled.

“I’m telling the truth,” she turned around slightly but still had her arms on you. “Yelena,” she called out. “Tell our girl she’s the prettier one out of the three of us.” How Kate called you ‘our girl’ made you feel warm and fuzzy. Through the mirror, you saw the blonde appeared in the doorway. She decided on a green cocktail dress that matched the color of her eyes. She smiled at you.

“I am ready to keep the vultures off of her,” she said. “Because she is ours.” It was ridiculous. The so-called vultures would be after your girlfriends, and you would have to fight them away. Still, you believed them. It was the way they looked at you, the way they touched you. You never felt more loved.

*

The party was going well. You mingled with team members you saw less frequently and listened to some of the politicians on their upcoming policies. You preferred talking to the Avengers over them. At first, one of your girlfriends stayed with you, but you ensured they enjoyed themselves.

So you were standing with Maria, nursing a drink that Yelena made for you. The blonde had a heavy pour when it came to her bartending skills. Maria told you a story about Yelena and Natasha; somehow, the blonde’s white suit accidentally turned pink when it was Natasha’s turn to do laundry. The sudden smirk on the agent’s face gave your girlfriend away. Kate moved behind you, and you could smell the alcohol on her breath. “Ignore me,” she whispered. “Pretend I’m not here and keep having your conversation.” That was easier said than done, but Maria kept talking, and you tried to focus on it.

Sober Kate was touchy and flirty but knew when to dial it back in public. Drunk Kate was a completely different beast. Her one goal was to make you a flustered mess. She was doing it now. “You look so good,” she mumbled, and goosebumps formed on your skin. “Fuck, I wanna rip this top off and fuck you right here,” you took a sip of your drink to hide the whimper that threatened to escape. “I want everyone here to know you are ours. Too many of these pigs have their eyes all over you.” She was how when she got jealous and possessive.

“Detka,” you weren’t sure when Maria was replaced with Yelena. Her hand was on your chin, and her fingers were cold. A shiver went down your spine. “Are you okay?” You nodded.

“Kate is drunk and horny,” you smiled and ignored the gasp the archer let out. Yelena let out an amused chuckle and leaned closer to your lips.

“I can say I am not surprised with how good you both look,” you watched her green eyes darken before she kissed your lips. Kate let out a breathy groan.

“Would it be inappropriate to leave now?” The archer asked. “I need you both.” You giggled against Yelena’s lips.

“I think we’ve shown our face long enough,” it was all the consent Kate needed before dragging you to the elevator. You pretended to ignore every Avenger’s knowing looks.

Delete Created with Sketch.

A week had passed since the party, and you made it your mission to stay off social media. You focused on your job, studies, and relationship with Yelena and Kate. Everything felt great. When you entered the break room, a few coworkers suddenly stopped talking. “What?” You asked as you opened the fridge to put your lunch in. “Do I have a hickey on my neck again?” Kate left one on your neck when she refused to let you go to work. Your coworkers had a field day for the next few days after.

“No hickey this time,” Tina said with her phone in her hand. “We saw this online and thought you had the right to know.” You took her phone, and you stared at a blog. It was a picture from the party which you’ve seen before. Natasha sent it to you, and you made it your lock screen. Yelena stood in front of you with Kate hanging onto your back. The blonde’s finger was on your chin, and her lips barely touched yours.

“It’s a cute picture of the three of you,” Tina said. Your coworkers knew of your relationship with the two Avengers. It was hard to keep it a secret from them when Kate and Yelena liked to surprise you at work. “It’s the comments we were reading.”

Curiosity killed the cat, right? That was the only part of the phrase people remembered. A part of you knew better to read them. The opinions of random people online did not matter, but you were curious about what your coworkers read. So you scrolled down.

It was nice to see some positive comments. They liked how happy Kate and Yelena seemed. They said you fit in well with them. But it was the negative comments that outweighed the good. To the comments, you were a whore, a homewrecker, a slut, and they could not understand what Kate and Yelena saw in you. They picked at every flaw they saw in the picture.

You handed the phone back to Tina. “You know what they say,” Tina smiled. “Those who pick on others are just jealous and self-conscious of themselves.”

“Right,” you said. “Now, enough gossip,” you teased. “Let’s get to work.”

*

When you entered your shared apartment, it was quiet. Not even the dogs were home to greet you. On any other day, you would be sad that you were alone, but you needed the tie to get your head on straight before everyone returned home.

You went into the bathroom, stripped out of your work uniform, and stepped into the shower. The water ran hot, and you watched your skin turn red from the temperature. When your body was clean, you stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around you. You wiped the condensation off the mirror and stared at your reflection.

Maybe the comments were correct. You could stand to lose weight, eat a little better, or change how you dress. The constant battle of your self-image was something you struggled with your entire life. You weren’t the most popular, prettiest, or smartest in high school. Your family lived paycheck to paycheck, so that you couldn’t afford the name-brand clothes. Every day, you compared yourself to those around you, and those on top of the social hierarchy smelt out of your weakness.

They added to your deteriorating self-image. You felt out of control as you slipped deeper and deeper into the abyss. You needed to get control back. One night, when your mother was at work, you took a razor to the thighs and watched the blood form at the surface. It scared you at first, seeing you bleed by your hand. You promised it would never happen again. But it was a habit you could not easily break when it was the only thing to release the pressure on your chest.

The pressure was back. You entered your shared bedroom and pulled out a small gift box from your Black Widow girlfriend. Inside was a knife with her and Kate’s initials carved into the hilt. Before your rational mind took over, you dragged the blade across the top of your thigh. With each cut you made, the pressure was less, and your mind was less dark.

*

You glanced up from the couch when the apartment door opened. The pup’s feet running against the wood made you smile. It was your only warning before a one-eyed golden retriever jumped on top of you. The air was pushed out of your lungs as he covered your face with kisses. “Lucky, stop!” You laughed and tried to push him off. “Get off!”

“Alright, don’t suffocate her,” Kate pulled the dog off of you and wiped the drool off your face with a towel. “Missed you today,” the archer mumbled and bent down to kiss you. You would welcome her lips on your any other day, but today, they felt wrong. The kiss turned your stomach.

“Missed you too,” you said. Kate moved your legs, sat down, and placed them on her lap. The sudden movement caused the fabric of your sweatpants to rub against the bandages. You winced, but both of your girlfriends missed it except Fanny. The American Akita was watching you closely. “I ordered food from that Thai place. I didn’t feel like cooking,” you went back to doom scrolling on your phone and missed the look between Kate and Yelena.

“Is everything okay, dorogoy?” You heard Yelena ask from the kitchen. You hummed in response, barely paying attention to what Yelena asked.

“Hey,” you were surprised by your phone being ripped out of your hands by the blonde. The Russian ignored the pout on your lips and put your phone on the table out of reach. “That was mean.”

“No, what is mean is that there is something wrong, and you are not telling us,” Yelena knelt by your head. “We have this rule for a reason, detka,” you looked at the archer, hoping your other girlfriend would save you. She stayed quiet but squeezed your thighs for support. You huffed, threw your head back, and felt tears burn at the corner of your eyes.

“It’s stupid,” you said. “Work just sucked, and both of you deal with much bigger problems than mine and-” Yelena quieted you with a gentle hand on your cheek as she pushed away your tears.

“Never think your problems at work are less than ours because we do different things,” the blonde said. “They are still important.”

“Besides,” you turned your attention to Kate, a playful smile on her face. “I could never be as polite and nice to some of the assholes you deal with,” she was able to make you smile. “Baby girl, you are a saint in your work.” You rolled your eyes and wiped away some of your tears.

“Do you want me to get you some food, and we can cuddle on the couch?” Yelena snapped her fingers. “We can watch the show with the talking dog and his high human?” You titled your head and narrowed your eyes at the blonde.

“Do you mean Scooby-Doo?” You questioned.

“Yes!” Yelena smiled. “Come, Kate Bishop, help me with food,” the Black Widow dragged the archer to the kitchen. You chuckled and reached for your phone.

Yes, work sucked, so you told the truth. Your mood turned as soon as you read those comments. The half-truth tasted bitter in your mouth. But this was your problem to fix. Yelena and Kate were Avengers, and you were a nobody.

*

“Princess, where are you going?” Kate asked from her spot on the couch. You were putting on your sneakers and placing a leash on Lucky.

“Taking Lucky for a walk. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s Sunday,” she said very slowly. “It’s not your day,” you shrugged.

“Just want to stretch my legs,” you said. “I’ll be back.” You felt the apartment before Kate could say another word. You used the stairs to warm up, stretching as you went down. You broke into a slow jog when you hit the sidewalk.

It was a new addition to your routine. Sometimes, you wake up early or stop by the gym after work. Some nights, you skipped on your sweet treat. If your girlfriends noticed the change and were worried about it, they kept it to themselves.

You were making progress, but you still cringed when you saw yourself naked compared to your girlfriends. Every flaw you saw was heightened, and you felt disgusted by yourself. Each time those thoughts entered your mind, the only way they left was when the blade came out and moved against your flesh.

The guilt was suffocating, and you wanted to climb into your girlfriend’s arms to forget all of your problems. But the dark voices in your head overpowered every rational thought.

*

“That was good,” Wanda said. “Why don’t we call it there?” You felt gross with the sweat dripping down your back, and your muscles ached. Training with Wanda was making faster progress than on your own. There was a deadline. With another gala happening in 2 weeks, you wanted to look better. You needed to look better for your mental health. You shook your head.

“I can keep going,” you said, stretched out of your sides, and took a deep breath. You needed to keep going.

“Breaks are good,” Wanda said. “They help your body recover and prevent injuries.” Logically, you knew she was right. Your body wasn’t used to this training, and you needed to work up your strength and endurance. But your mind was too dark to think logically. She saw you as weak and lesser, just like everyone else in those comments. This was a mistake. You weren’t an Avenger; you were just a nobody who got lucky. Wanda must have thought you were pathetic.

“Yeah,” you forced a smile. “Sounds good. Same time tomorrow,” you left the training area and headed for Yelena and Kate’s room before she could say anything else.

*

“Kate Bishop, give me the cup,” Yelena reached for the smoothie cup, but the archer held it above her head out of reach.

“No!” The archer laughed at the pout on the blonde’s face. “She asked me to make her workout smoothie, and you will put healthy stuff in it. She deserves a sweet treat!” The sound of Wanda’s laughter forced the archer to look away.

“Are you going to help me, Maximoff, or just stand there?” Yelena asked. The witch shook her head.

“I am not getting involved with this. But,” she sat in the empty seat. “I think you both need to check on your other half.” The duo turned serious when she mentioned that you and Kate had placed the cup on the counter.

“Was she hurt?” Kate asked, and her anxiety only lessened slightly when Wanda shook her head.

“Not exactly, but I would go check on her,” Wanda sighed. “I didn’t do it on purpose, but my powers wandered into her mind during the workout. They weren’t very nice thoughts about her image.” Yelena sighed.

“I knew we should have confronted her about this,” the blonde said. “She has been off since we had that Thai food,” Wanda left the couple and told them that if they needed anything, they should come get her. Kate put her hands on her hips.

“It must be bad if she hid it from us. We have that rule.”

“We must be smart about this and get our girl back.”

*

It was only a matter of time before they came to find you. You were sloppy around Wanda and let your thoughts get too loud. You had time to take a shower, change into comfy clothes, and sit on the edge of the bed. Picking at the skin of your thighs helped as it was unwise to take the blade you hid in your side of the dresser. The action was mindless and soothing. You missed the door opening, and Kate grabbed your hands. “Hi, Princess,” the archer whispered. “Are you here with us?” You felt Yelena sit down next to you.

“Yeah, I’m here,” you whispered, and your head fell onto Yelena’s shoulder. “I’m tired.” The blonde hummed in agreement.

“You have been hiding something from us, data,” the blonde softly spoke. “You might feel better if you told us the truth,” you closed your eyes as you felt tears form in them.

“It’s so stupid,” you said. “I’m so stupid.”

“Hey,” you opened your eyes to look at Kate. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that. I think she is brilliant and beautiful.” You smiled at the goofy look on her face. Sighing, you knew it was the right thing to do. Everything felt so heavy.

“A week after the Stark party, a picture of the three of us circled one of those Avenger blogs that report on you,” you took a deep breath in and out. “My coworkers found it and showed me. Some of the comments were awful towards me. They highlighted everything I hated about myself.”

“Why did you not tell us about this?” Yelena asked. She tried to mask the hurt in her voice, but you heard it. You never wanted to hurt them by hiding this.

“I worried if I told you, you would see that they saw and leave me,” you admitted. “I wanted to fix what was broken before you saw it. I am a nobody compared to you.” You angrily wiped your face.

“Princess, take my hand,” you gave one hand to Kate and the other to Yelena. “Nothing about you is broken. Those assholes are jealous and spiteful,” you knew that. You knew that from the beginning.

“But,” Yelena pushed loose hair out of your face and kissed your forehead. “Our mind is our biggest enemy, right?” You nodded. “You are our missing piece. We are whole because of you.”

“But I’m not an Avenger or a hero or—” Kate hushed you gently, moving her thumb across her lips.

“We don’t want you to be a hero,” The archer said firmly. “We want and need you to be you because you are a constant reminder of life outside of fighting and Avenging.”

“You are the reason we come home after every mission,” Yelena added, kissing the tears that fell down your cheek.

“We need you, baby,” Kate smiled. “And we will remind you every day.” She kissed the scars on your thighs, and the simple action caused more tears to leave your eyes. “Where is the blade, baby?” You weakly pointed to the dresser. Yelena quickly stood up and went to find it. Kate maneuvered you to lie down on the bed with her arms tightly around you. There was more to discuss, more things you needed to work through. Right now, you felt safe in your girls’ arms.

*

The night of the Gala, you felt your normal nerves with all the eyes and cameras on you. But Yelena and Kate quieted every doubt that entered your mind. As much as they said they needed you, you needed them.

[bagdaddyb]

Hi!! Oh my gosh seeing you posting again was such a huge joy and surprise for me I’m so glad to read your new work!!!

I was wondering if you could write a wanda maximoff x fem!reader ABO fic where either Wanda or reader are new to the team with a whole bunch of pining where they eventually figure out that they are each others mate? You can make either Wanda or reader alpha/omega!

It’s super okay if you aren’t feeling this request, either way I’m so excited to read more of the amazing work you share with us!!!

Hiiiii! So I got super carried away with this and I originally intended for this to be mean emo Wanda but sweet soft Wanda took over, I hope you enjoy! 💗

Pairing: alphag!p Wanda x omega fem! spyReader

Warning: Sickeningly Sweet, 18+ MINOR DNI NSFW NSFW

AN: Wanda 🥰

You'd only been on the team for a year when the mess with Ultron happened. It all happened so fast, you could barely process everything happening around you before something new would arise. Sitting across from Natasha sipping coffee as you spied on the twin alphas you felt the most relaxed you had in weeks. Natasha kept glancing their way while your focus stayed on her, two people staring was more suspicious than one. You and the red head proved to be a good team over the past year. Two omega spies flying under everyones radar. The world still assumed the Black Widow a one woman show and no one would ever believe her to be an omega. The breeze felt nice on your back, bringing a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear before looking down at your coffee.

"This has been a real shit show eh?"

Your voice held a familiar accent one you'd grown used to using under your many aliases. Natasha's eyes returned to you as she sipped her own drink.

"Not anymore than usual."

You hummed in response eyes wondering to the innocent civilians around you. Sipping your own cup you wonder if life would be better among them. Oblivious to the realities of the world to caught up in your own day to day menial task. The weight of this job seemed to weigh a bit heavier on your shoulders everyday, the question of wether the people you save amounts to the people you don't plaguing.

"S toboy vse v poryadke?" (Are you alright?)

The red head ask and you nod eyes returning to hers.

"Tired, it seems everytime we try to relax something detrimental in the world happens. I wonder what it would do without us."

A small chuckle escapes Natasha despite the truth in your words, her eyes shooting to the pair on her right once more. Though not a 'graduate' of the red room you hold your own tramatic story. Experimented on in the basement of Oscorp for years you'd been turned into a lab rat by the corpo bastards that owned the building. You'd escaped only three years ago, changed. Transformed into a human machiene, non-aging, ridiculously strong with a sirens song. You did the only thing you could and played the cards you were delt. Seducing mediocre alphas out of millions before any one even got a whiff of your existence but you could truly only thank Natasha for that. It wasn't until Natasha was taken down but the Black Widow kept striking that shield realized there was more than met the eye. It was Tony himself that went undercover to catch you and honestly had he not been an Avenger with intel he would of ended up caught himself. Another rich egotistical alpha who thought himself on top of the world. You didn't go down easy and spent a week in a cell before even uttering a word. In retrospect it all seems silly now you often think about how much time you wasted fighting the people who wanted nothing more than to help you. Eyes lifting to Natasha's face you can't help but feel greatful for the opportunity she's given you to help others like you.

"They're on the move."

You hum in acknowledgment before finishing off your drink mind finally wondering to the matter at hand. Your mission was recruitment nothing more. Ultron having been made unreasonably strong by the twins he somehow came to be in alliance with. You'd gained enough information merely listening in on their conversation, so you and Natasha retreated returning to the group in order to solidify your advances. Standing in time with Natasha you link your arm in hers smiling before chatting away about absolutely nothing in russian. Missing the way a certain alpha glanced your way when your scent drifted down wind. It only took twenty four hours for everything to go to shit almost a record breaker in your books. Ultron whineded up to be nothing after the male alpha was nere fatally injured the red headed woman taking care of him like clockwork. Luckily your team stood nearby able to quickly extract the alpha towards safety and medical attention. You worked efficiently getting him secured before moving to help the rest of your team fight off Ultron's bots and it isn't until the end when you stand with the support of Thor that you realize the red headed alpha had come with you. Returning to the compound there is tension on the quinjet. The group unsure what to do with the twin alphas who quite literally just tried to murder them and it causes you to roll your eyes.

"You could at least not talk about them as if they aren't right there."

You scold before moving towards the pair. The red head having been unmoving crouched over her unconscious brother.

"Privet." (Hello.)

You say making yourself known as you approach the alpha causing her to glance up at you.

"On dolzhen polnost'yu vyzdorovet'." (He should make a full recovery.)

You speak in a whisper trying to be soft.

"YA uveren, chto on ne khotel by, chtoby vy bespokoilis'." (I'm sure he wouldn't want you to worry.)

The woman merely returns her eyes to the unconscious man below her.

"Will you lock us up? Treat us once again like dogs?"

Your eyebrows raise and your posture straightens.

"No of course not, everyone deserves a second chance. You believed you were fighting for the right thing, there are many on this team who have been in a similar circumstance. Do not believe simply because we are labeled supergeroi that none of us have a dark past." (Superheroes)

With that you take your leave allowing the woman to be with her loved one. Upon returning to the compound you go into seclusion, you needed a break both mentally and physically. Just a few days where the world wasn't ending and it was entirely up to you to save it. Six days later you emerge slightly re-energized and fresh ready for the next catastrophe. The first place you visit is the gym already hearing Natasha's scolding on breaking your routine as you pass the common room you see the two twins on the couch alone. In this light you see them both clearly, while they hold the title twin they couldn't look more different. You study them both your eyes lingering on the red head. She was an attractive alpha, very attractive. You hear the tv playing but don't recognize the program they have on. Detouring into the room you catch their attention waving as you approach.

"Hello, I am rather embarrassed to say we never formally met. I am (Y/N) nice to meet you both."

You bow your head in greeting sending them a bright smile and both of them seem to freeze obviously caught off guard by your friendly approach. The male recovers first standing up before bowing his head back and sticking out his hand.

"Pietro, and that is my sestra Wanda."

You recognize his accent reaching to grip his hand in yours.

"A pleasure, I hope you two are adjusting well."

It isn't until then his sister jumps up a slight flush on her cheeks.

"It has been familiar, we are rather alienated but that is how it has always been."

You hum in response fighting back the disappointment in your expression.

"Don't fret, we are a group of antisocial extroverts forced to be in a group setting. Well expect for Tony but it just takes us all time to engage and meet new people, they will come around before long."

You finish with a smile.

"Have you two at least been taken care of? Food, water, lodging?"

They nod simultaneously and its enough for you.

"Good well I'm off to the gym, don't be strangers."

With that you leave not taking note of the full face flush on the woman's face.

"Kto-nibud' nashel svoyu sestru-omegu?" (Has someone found their omega sister?)

Pietro says in a teasing tone and Wanda punches him in the shoulder muttering at him to shut up. The moment you cross the threshold of the gym you flinch.

"Nu posmotrite, kto eto." (Well look who it is.)

"Can we skip past the part where you scold me so I can just apologize?"

You ask turning to meet Natasha's sharp gaze.

"Will your muscles magically regain their mass?"

"No."

You sigh accepting your defeat beginning to stretch as Natasha begins her speech on commitment. It is another four days before everyone finally comes around to the twins slotting them in as if theyed been there since the beginning just as they had you. Walking towards the gym you release a content sigh, a full ten days since the world seemed as though it'd collapse. What bliss. Quickly looking up your eyes fantically search for some wood unwilling to risk jinxing yourself.

"Dobroye utro." (Good morning.")

You hear from behind turning to be greeted by Wanda.

"Good morning indeed. Off for your morning cuppa are you?"

You ask and Wanda merely nods in response fighting back a yawn.

"Not a morning person?"

You ask with a smile walking beside Wanda.

"Not at all."

She says somewhat grumpily.

"Then what are you doing up at six a.m?"

You ask with a laugh and Wanda has to fight back a blush. She couldn't admit that she woke up at this time merely to see you every morning but what could she say.

"I like to cook but I'm not very good at it.... so I practice early before the others wake up."

The words spill out of her mouth quickly unable to think of anything better and you beam your white smile at her.

"Well how about tomorrow you sleep in till eight then I can help you learn, I am an amazing cook. I even know how to make some traditional dishes."

Wanda can't help the flush that comes to her face this time and it makes you feel a tingle inside.

"Okay."

The red head responds and you nod giving her arm a little reassuring squeeze as you come upon the kitchen.

"Good luck dorogoy." (Dear)

You say before continuing onto the gym and Wanda is sure her face matches her hair. Sure enough the next morning Wanda doesn't head towards the kitchen instead she spends the morning pacing her room anxiety ridden. You'd said for her to sleep in but how could she when you agreed to spend alone time with her. She couldn't tell Pietro and deal with his repeated teasing so she kept the information in slowly but surely having a meltdown. As she paced she played with her hair, bit her finger, twiddled her thumbs. God she couldn't do this. She'd literally been an experiment for Hydra and never felt this nervous in her life. The time passed quickly. To quickly. Right as she truly began to spiral there was a knock at her door, eyes shooting to the clock she realizes its already eight o'clock. Brushing off her clothes quickly before taking a few deep breaths and recuperating she opens her door. The moment her eyes land on you it all seems for naught, your hair is tied back. You wear tights and a tshirt covered by an apron. Your eyes spakle matched by your bright smile and Wanda feels herself melt a bit.

"I figured you'd meet me in the kukhnya." (Kitchen)

You say with a giggle and Wanda becomes a tomato realizing its not only eight but eight eleven.

"I'm sorry I slept in and lost all track of time."

You hum with a smile clearly not mad at all before turning to be on your way.

"All is fine I just didn't want to start without you."

Wanda follows behind you closing her door quickly. Her eyes wonder your body not being able to help staring at your ass.

"Ty slushayesh'?" (Are you listening?)

Wanda's eyes shoot up attention back on your voice.

"I asked what your favorite dish is."

"Oh um I love traditional pirozhki, my mother used to make them just slightly burnt at the edges. The taste reminds me of home."

You turn and smile softly her way.

"Perfect then that's what we will make, cooking can seem overwhelming but it isn't as scary as many think. I always recommend learning to cook for yourself first because it is much easier than cooking for others."

In the kitchen you gather the suppiles, you cooked often so the ingredients for this dish were easily found.

"I'll have you make the dough, it is all simply measurements so I'll do no more than verbal instructions."

You say as you prepare the area for Wanda.

"Here put this on, gotta protect your clothes and tie your hair back no one wants hair in their food."

Handing the apron to Wanda while standing by waiting. You bite your lip as you watch her. Running her fingers through silky red locks before pulling it up exposing her neck to you. She wore grey sweatpants and a baggy t. The sweatpants doing little to hide the member between her legs and you press your thighs together pleasurably. Wanda on the other hand was trying to think about how to see this lie through. She was an amazing cook, taking the responsibility of her brother from a young age. How was she going to play clueless. She should of at least said a dish she truly wasn't aware of how to make but when you asked her favortie food she couldn't help but answer honestly. You talked Wanda through the steps praising her for being a natural when the dough came out well. Leaving it to make the filling.

"What did your mom fill hers with? I do a simple meat and rice mixture since it goes along with my bulk."

Wanda nods along as she listens debating a moment before responding.

"Lets make them like yours, I've never had them any other way and I'd be eager to try."

You smile brightly at the alpha before nodding in response. Again you talk her through it always believing hands on with clear instruction was the best way to learn any skill. It gave the student mutiple ways to intake the information and made it harder to forget. Once the process is complete you help Wanda cut and stuff the dough, this part of the process being the longest and most tedious. You leave her to fry them as she likes since she'd mentioned her mom let them cook a bit longer and instead move to clean around her. Never a fan of a messy workspace. You hum as you clean, mindlessly really. It seems a tune that always floats around you. One Wanda is sure she's heard you hum before. By the time Wanda is done cooking you've cleaned the kitchen and are able to sit down and enjoy the meal with her. Of course the moment doesn't last and before either of you can even take a bite the smell of food draws in hungry Avengers.

"Mne vsegda nravitsya, kogda ty gotovish'." (I always love when you cook.)

Natasha says entering first, the smell of traditional food equivalent to a cat with its automatic feeder. Steve, Bruce, Tony, and Sam all slowly trickle in after stomachs growling audibly making you laugh.

"I suppose if I didn't cook every once in a while no one would eat around here hmmm?"

The group shares a laugh as they line up one by one to make plates.

"But in all honesty this meal is thanks to Wanda not me, I merely talked her through the steps."

Wanda can't hide the pink that dust her cheeks and all is going well until a certain twin walks in.

"Pirozhki! You always cook the best food sestra."

The blonde kisses his sisters head as he passes by and you can't help the eyebrow that raises in response.

"Always hmmm?"

You hum and Wanda is saved by the entrance of Thor who could of eaten the entire helping had he got here first.

"Mighty (Y/N) your meals are always most invigorating."

You smile at the God and try not laugh when you see his downcast face once he realizes he is the last one to show. Wiping your face after you finish you excuse yourself it was already nearing noon and you still hadn't even looked at the moutain of paperwork on your desk. Wanda watches you go. Over the next three weeks you and Wanda grow closer she begins training with you and Natasha in the mornings and you read with her sometimes in the afternoons, you don't question her about Pietro's comment after your cooking fiasco and Wanda never says anything about it because that woukd mean admitting to you that she was desperate to spend time with you.

"Soo?"

Natasha ask as the two of you jog around the gardens. It was early afternoon in fall, the cool winds combating your rising body heat making the jog enjoyable.

"Nothing."

"Yebat' will she ever make a move?" (Fuck)

You merely shrug.

"I don't know, I'll start showing signs of heat by the end of the week if that doesn't trigger her there's no hope."

Natasha laughs at that.

"Tak khochetsya al'fu, da?" (So eager for an alpha eh?)

"Not just any alpha, Wanda."

The week passes slowly and as the weekend gets closer your pheromones get stronger. The team knew your heat was approaching as they kept a calander for the Alphas so they could know when to distance, well everyone except Wanda apparently. Its Thursday night by the time she's had enough of your distance and decides to ask why you aren't at the table for dinner with the rest of the team.

"Where's (Y/N), I swear I haven't seen her all week."

Natasha sends a small smirk Wanda's way before Steve speaks up.

"Her heat is approaching so she is keeping extra distance for everyones saftey, she should come back around a week or so from today."

Pink hue coats Wanda's cheeks as the thought of you in heat takes over her mind and the pink only gets darker as her hard on begins to form in her pants. Her mind plummets into thoughts about your slick, and body. Thoughts about filling you with her seed and you being full with her pups causes her to be embarrassed by how hard she's become. If not for the table her bulge would be hard to miss. Wanda remains in a fog for the rest of dinner try as she might she couldn't get her mind off mating you and as everyone stands to part ways she remains seated making the excuse that she'd clean up the kitchen. Wanda strained painfully against her pants she could almost smell you now.

Rubbing your sides you walk towards the kitchen dinner should be over by now and you're starving. You need to get as many calories in as you can before you succumb to your heat tomorrow. The pain was slowly starting to set in and you'd be lying if you said you were looking foreward to the next seven days. You let out a groan as you turn the corner a sudden sharp pain stabbing your side. As you enter the threshold of the kitchen goosebumps rise on your skin the familiar smell of Wanda infultrating your nose before your eyes lock with the alphas. You're almost sure you see Wanda begin to tremble but you quickly begin to back away.

"I'm sorry I thought everyone would be gone by now."

You go to retreat from the kitchen and Wanda stands so quickly her chair falls behind her. In a second she's in your face grabbing you softly by the jaw making you look at her.

"Omega."

She whispers as she sniffs at you rubbing her nose against your cheek before falling to your scent gland.

"Mate."

She whispers again and you chirp. Your omega finally satisfied being acknowledged by your alpha. For a few minutes nothing happens, the two of you stand there relishing eachothers presence. You chirp at her as she lightly growls at you and you feel satisfied, whole even. Then you are painfully reminded of your situation causing you to sharply intake air and groan. Wanda growls louder at the noise of your distress and you whimper.

"It hurts."

Wanda's grip on your jaw becomes tighter, pushing you into the wall before pressing her own body against yours.

"Tell me where it hurts, I'll take care you shchenok." (Puppy)

You groan again, your heat suddenly over taking your senses as a result of having your mate so close. Your hands raise to grip Wanda's arms tightly, nails digging into her skin through the fabric of her shirt.

"Need you, please. Alpha. Mate."

Your words come out as little whimpers. Your panting, you don't know why but suddenly you can't get enough air for full breaths. So caught up in Wanda you don't even process you're about to be mated in the tower kitchen but honestly you don't care either. Wanda however does she feels territorial, primal even. She needs you to herself, needs privacy with you. She'd attack anyone who might see your bare body if she mated you here. Her room was on the other side of the compound, the alpha side far from the omegas and living area but your room was just down the hall. Wanda releases your jaw hands moving down your body till she reaches the back of your thigh. You bite your lip enjoying the electricity you felt from her touch. As she picks you up you wrap your legs around her torso tightly. Her hands against your thighs causing your sex to tingle. You wrap one hand around her neck before running the other through soft red hair. You return to chirping at her, the feeling of finding your mate an overwhelmingly happy one. You rub your cheek against hers softly and the alpha lightly growls in acknowledgment. You are consumed by Wanda's presence unable to focus on anything but her. When she lays you lightly on your bed you aren't even sure where you are, you just know you're there with her. Wanda bends over you, tucking her nose into your scent gland once more and growling loudly. She needs you, needs you marked, claimed. Needs everyone to know you belong to her.

"Mate."

The word is once again a whisper but you hear it all the same. The time to romantically strip you would have to be later gripping opposite sides of the loose shirt you wore the alpha literally tears the cloth off of you exposing your bra cladded torso to her. Your breathing speeds up the intimacy of the moment undeniable as you feel Wanda begin to run her lips down your body. It was like electric shock, the currents Wanda's touch sent through your body. She magiced your bra away completely exposing your upper half and growling as her soft lips wrapped around your nipple. You moan loudly in response, it felt good too good. You could get lost in this sensation alone.

"Mine."

Wanda growls against your skin before moving along to your other nipple. Your hands grip at Wanda through her clothes before you whimper.

"Need to feel you alpha."

Wanda growls in response, her eyes glowing red as she magics away her own clothing her skin now pressing against yours. She moves back up your body mouth hovering close before she lays claim to your own. The kiss is magical, the locking of your lips causing what you could only descibe as bliss throughout your whole body. You felt like you were glowing arms and legs wrapping around the alpha tightly you were sure this must be heaven. Wanda began to grind against you through the fabric of your pants, your underwear gliding against your excessive amount of slick. You blush, embarrassed by how wet you truly are from so little foreplay but the feeling doesnt last long when Wanda growls above you. Wanda pulls your pants off your waist guiding them down your thighs just enough to expose your slick and shudders when the smell of you tingles her nostrils. She's overcome with the need to knot you, breed you as she makes her mark on your neck. But she also feels the feral need to take you, to have your slick dripping down her chin as she causes you to come apart on her tongue. Starting with the latter she pulls your pants off quickly. Breaking away from your lips to slowly kiss down your body. You take a long gasp of air eyes dialating as you watch Wanda work her way down. Your hips begin to twitch unable to stay still at the excitement of what was about to come. Wanda's hands move to firmly grip your waist holding you in place as she kisses your stomach moving lower and lower your stomach muscles flex, a wave of arousal flowing through you. When she reaches her destination her hands move to your thighs lifting them up to hold you wide open for her. You're leaking, literally and Wanda can't wait to have a taste. She dives in slurping up the excess before moving to your center. Sucking on your clit then tongue fucking you like a woman starved. Your slick quenches a thirst Wanda didn't even know she had tongue lapping at your clit before quickly moving towards your hole eager to drink up the slick as a result. It doesn't take long and under normal circumstances you're sure you would of been embarrassed but none of that matters when your muscles spasm. Back arching in the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced, your thighs shake, eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream. Wanda doesn't stop eagerly drinking up your orgasm before wanting, no needing you to do that again. You whimper in overstimulation but don't stop your alpha, just as turned on by her need for you. You squirm against the red heads mouth a little towards her a little away, this time you last longer if only for your slight sensitivity causing time before the feeling was pleasurable again yet you cum all the same. Wanda moans loudly as you release into her mouth again. She could do this all day she's sure of it. But now as her precum begins to soak her boxers she knows its time. Lifting onto her knees between your legs red eyes glow as her pants disappear and through your haze you see her in all her glory. You reach down gripping her in your hand moaning at the size while she moans at the sensation. You pump her, an overwhelming feeling to suck her down your through the way she'd done you comes over you but Wanda quickly grabs your hand removing you from her.

"You're going to make me bust shchenok." (Puppy)

Wanda hesitates a second if only to allow her own incoming orgasm to subside, she needed to bury herself in you and it wouldn't look good for her if it ended just as quickly as it started. In the meantime she leans down over you meeting your lips in a hungry kiss the taste of you on her lips causing another wave of your own slick to pool between your legs. You push at her lower back willing her to enter you but she resist. Kissing you eagerly before breaking to kiss to move towards your scent gland, you pant quickly. Wanda's kiss having stolen all the air from your lungs.

"Mine."

Wanda whispers against you, hips beginning to grind against your slick in order to lubricate herself. You shudder in response.

"Yours alpha, take me. I want to be yours."

Wanda reaches down gripping herself in order to slowly slide into you. She's thick stretching you out in ways only she can, the burn sends waves through you and by the time she's completely sheathed you're a whimpering mess.

"Yebat' you're so tight." (Fuck)

She pulls out only to slam back into you, her pace is brutal, hips slamming against yours hitting a sweet spot you didn't even know you had repeatedly. Your moans are as loud as the sound of your wet slick sucking Wanda back in. You claw at her wanting her impossibly closer as she fucked you into next week.

"Holy fuck I'm cumming. Alpha. Alpha."

Your eyes roll back as you arch. The orgasm makes you see white and Wanda doesnt stop. You squirting fueling her ego.

"That's right shchenok. You love the way your alpha fucks you, love how deep I am in you. Look shchenok can you see me."

Wanda brings your gaze down the visible bulge in your stomach when the alpha bottoms out causing your stomach to tighten.

"I'm right here."

Wanda says as she pushes down on the bulge and you spasm again another light orgasm washing through you.

"Fuck I'm gonna fill you up, get you pregnant with my pup."

Wanda pumps into you harder, her knot slamming against your entrance as she nears her own release.

"Alpha. Alpha."

You whimper to fucked out to form any other words.

"You're gonna look so pretty swollen with my seed all mine."

You moan again as Wanda bends towards your scent gland the feel of her canines against your neck enough to almost send you over the edge. She sinks her teeth into you right as you hear a pop. Her knot having settled inside you easily combined with the blackout orgasm of your mating bite. When you come to Wanda is still knotted deep inside you. Nuzzling at your cheeks with a low growl. You chirp back to weak to do much else and Wanda hums.

"My mate, my omega."

10 months later.

You were exhausted, to say the least. A new born was a lot of work and a lot of lost sleep. Wanda wasn't here, literally dragged away for a debrief she was required to attend. If you were honest you didn't mind, she'd been slightly smothering you since you gave birth and while you loved her for it just because you gave birth didn't mean you were no longer a functioning adult. You'd been picking petty arguments since your third trimester which you always felt bad for. It was the hormones combined with being put on bedrest so you didn't get to do your job combined with sexual frustration since the doctor said it was no longer safe for intercourse. You sighed as you stepped out of the shower, now with the added insecurities about the changes in your body since pregnancy and child birth you weren't sure you even wanted Wanda to touch you. Ignoring the mirror you dry yourself before wrapping a towel around you. Exiting the bathroom right as your little baby boy woke up with soft cries. You coo at him lifting him out of his crib you lose your towel throwing it over the side in order to hold your baby against your bare chest. You were barely one month postpartum but glad to be past the part where you were in a sense literally wearing a human diaper. Your son instantly calms at the sound of your heart beat as you bounce him lightly moving to sit in your bed you lean against the headboard letting out slightly pained noises as you try and relax your overworked back. You cover your lower half with the blanket already feeling the chill of the room as you begin to hum at your son. You don't hear the door open to focused to the little boy in your arms, getting comfortable as you move him to breast feed. You hiss as he begins to work at your sore nipple but eventually relax becoming accustomed to the pain. You rub his little head of hair softly smiling at him a fullness in your heart only created by the birth of your child as Wanda makes her pressence known.

"You're so beautiful dorogaya." (Dearheart)

You bite back your own insecurities at her comment humming in response. Looking up you meet Wanda's piercing eyes before meeting her lips in a kiss.

"I mean it dorogaya or have you forgotten I can hear your thoughts."

You can't help but frown not used to not being able to keep secrets.

"But...."

"Ah ah ah no buts, you're even more beautiful now than the day we met. Pregnancy and childbirth has given you a glow nothing else can."

You sigh a familiar warmth filling your chest in response to Wanda's love.

"YA tebya lyublyu." (I love you)

You whisper your free hand coming to rub against Wanda's cheek.

"I ya lyublyu tebya. Forever and always." (And I love you)

[doudouneverte]

Back to Home | Chapter five : Discovery

Pairing this chap: Wanda Maximoff x teen!reader; Avenger(variants)

Summary: Dr.Strange has a plan and Dr.Cho make big discoveries

Tag list: @darkstar225 @g-athenaathens @filmedbyharkness @nylevea @eletricheart @reginassweetheart @jono723 @lizlil

Chapter Four | Serie Masterlist | Chapter Six

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

[Earth 717]

Silence was drowning out the entire complex. Wanda and Natasha didn't leave your bedroom; they spent almost all their time crying. Your aunts were not better. Kate tried to keep the team together while Yelena was pacing on the rooftop.

All the avengers were deadly silent. The only noises that could be heard came from Morgan's lab, where she was trying everything and checking the same data for god knows how long. After your moms and America came back, it was like time had stopped.

Tony was about to see his daughter when a portal in a wall caught his attention. Doctor Strange was finally back, and with him a little hope. It didn't take more than five to gather everyone in the meeting room, where Peter and America explained everything to the sorcerer.

Strange always told you to be careful around people who manipulate the time, and of course, usually, he would be a little angry that you took a big risk like that, but not today.

"How can I help you?" He asked.

"Actually, we don't know. We tried everything, but nothing seemed to work." America said.

The magician was intensely thinking before something came to his mind. "I think I have an idea. I can't promise that it will work, and if so, I don't know if it will help, but at least we will know if something bad happens to little Maximoff." Now every gaze was on him, wating for his idea. "But first we need to go somewhere else." He finished his sentence before opening a portal to Kamar-Taj.

The heroes were following him, a little unsure of what was on his mind. Once they reached a spacious place, he sat down.

"I'll need America, Wanda, and maybe Peter and little Stark." He said while he crossed his legs and waited for them to sit with him. Once everyone was ready, he started to explain his plan. "So, we know how much Y/n is usually connected with Wanda, and we also know that she's not in this universe anymore, which is why I need you," he said, referring to America.

"And why us?" Peter asked.

"You were among the last ones who were the Y/n when she disappeared, so you still have a fresh memory of her. I'll use my power to mentally teleport us back to the accident, and then with Wanda and Y/n's connection and America, we should be able to track her more efficaciously in the multiverse."

Everyone held their breath while a mix of orange and green auras started to cover the group. The memory of the incident started to play in front of everyone. They all looked at that until the moment. You were approaching Khrono after he pinned America against a wall. You lifted your knife, and when you were about to throw it, everything froze.

"Strange, something is wrong with America." Natasha said.

The brunette had her eyes totally shining, but not like when she used her power; it was different. It felt like she didn't control what she was doing. Wanda tried to reach her, but she could not do anything. The younger woman collapsed on the ground.

-------

[Earth 616]

Fury was leaving your room before seeing Maria Hill and Dr. Cho.

"Sir, you made two big discoveries; you need to see that." The doctor said and gave him an iPad while they made their way to his office.

"What is this?" The man asked.

"Scarlet's genetic code." Maria said while they entered the room. "Don't you see something strange?" she asked before showing the same thing on a big screen.

In front of the man's blank face, Cho started to talk. "I analyzed her DNA like you asked. I found two interesting things in her DNA. First the most obvious one," she typed on some bouton on the tablet, and two other genetics were now surrounding yours, "her DNA is the exact same as Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff. It's like…"

"It's like she's their biological mother." Fury said, and Maria nodded.

"But's that not the only weird thing; look at this," the doctor said before showing the genetic code of every Avenger. "Don't you see something different?" she asked him, and when he shook his head, she started again. "I don't know how to say that, it should be impossible, but there is no trace of any male DNA in hers."

"What do you mean?" the man asked, visibly curious and surprised.

"Usally, when two people decide to have a kid, there should be some trace of both genders DNA in their kid's DNA, whatever the gender." Maria said this time. "Even when a couple decides to go through IVF. But she doesn't. At first, we thought that her dad was someone who wasn't registered in the SHIELD or SWORD data base, but even if we compare with the international data bank, we have no match."

"It doesn't look special like that, but it's impossible even for us or any organization to do something like that. So we exclude Hydra and the Red Room from the list of potential places that she's from." Cho said.

"For a moment, we thought that she might be from another planet, but according to the data that Carol Danvers sent us, there is only one type of alien who can reproduce like that, but their DNA is closer to snail than human." Maria explained.

Fury was staring at the screen, totally unsure of what to say.

"Oh, and before we leave, I need to show you that." The doctor changed the screen. "This is a scan of Scarlet's power; at first, it's okay, but if we look closely, we can see some inconsistent gaps in her energy."

"Which means?" Maria asked this time.

"Two option. Option one, and maybe the most accurate, is that she's losing control over her power, which can explain why she almost kills Sam and the others while she seems totally non-aggressive toward them. And two, even if it's maybe the most crazy one, is that she may be slowly losing her power. The spider boy told me that he saw her falling from the sky just after a red aura around her disappeared." The doctor explained.

"Well, that's more than I imagined. Don't let anyone know about that. Not yet." Fury said, and the two women nodded before leaving the room.

~~~~

Peter was on his phone while a portal opened in his apartment. "Hey, America. What are you doing here?" He asked the young brunette.

"Peter, I think I just found something weird." She replied. "I was curious, so I traveled through the multiverse to find this girl; you know, to try to learn more about her. But there is my probleme I--" She couldn't finish before feeling a big headache.

"America!" Peter caught her before her body hit the floor. "Hey, America, wake up! What should I do? I can't go to see the avenger; I can't—Strange, I need to call Doctor Strange." He picked up America's body and gently laid her on his couch before grabbing his phone.

~~~~

You were staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what happened, before you heard the door open again. This time, you sat up immediately and stared at the woman in front of you.

"I bet you didn't see that coming, right?" Wanda said before taking a chair and sitting in front of your bed. She stayed like that, saying nothing, just analizing you. "They didn't lie when they said you looked like me and Natasha."

"What are you doing here?" You asked.

"I can ask you the same question." She shrugged. When you didn't talk, she said. "Actually, I saw your fight; you're pretty good, even if you still have some things to learn."

"What do you want?"

"Me, nothing. But you, what do you want, Scarlet?" She smirked. "That's a pretty good name, no? I love scarlet; it's the same color as our power. And even more crazy, it's sound like Scarlet Witch." Her expression suddenly became more dark, and she stared at you. "Now come on, tell me, who are you, Scarlet?"

[sacharinee]

hey! so i’ve noticed all your office references and it’s one of my favourite shows ever <3 i was wondering if you’d write something where the reader and bf!peter are both obsessed with the show and quote it at any given moment, confusing (and probably annoying) everyone around them. i love your fics by the way!!

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader

w/c: 800 ish

a/n: dinnertime with the avengers edition! peter and reader being an annoying power duo. a crap ton of office references obviously. this is so weird and all over the place BUT it was so much fun writing. i tweaked ur request a teeny bit to them simply saying lines from the show, but everyone is just as confused and annoyed lmao i hope ur okay w that!! this is also my first time writing with the avengers so i tried my best on getting them right. thank u so much for requesting this!! i had an entire office marathon playing in the background while writing this 

“the food looks great, nat,” you take your seat at the dining table.

“yea, it’s amazing, thanks for cooking tonight,” peter chimes in.

you both are sat at the dinner table in the lavish dining room among the earth’s mightiest heroes, who also happen to be your colleagues. 

“wait, where did you learn to make all of this? i never pegged you as a cook,” tony questions.

“i’m not,” the redhead answers, “my fake mother used to make this dish all the time when i was younger,” 

“awe, that’s adorable,” thor replies.

“right before she and my fake father sold me and had me brainwashed.” 

the others freeze midchew and stare as scott drops his fork against his plate.

nat clears her throat, “so anyways, enjoy,” and takes her seat.

the rest of you begin placing heaps of food onto each other’s plates and digging into the meal in front of you.

“well, um,” tony sips his water, “how ‘bout you kids, get any good action tonight?”

peter raises his eyebrows at him, “us? oh yea, we got a good chase during patrol tonight,” 

“it was super fun,” you add.

“well what’d he have on him?” wanda asks.

“he was, uhh,” you purse your lips as you hesitate, playing with the food on your plate and quieted your voice, “a-uh, a wanted animal rapist.”

wanda shakes her head at you in repulsion, regretting having asked you.

“that is so disgusting!” the god announces, food spilling out of his mouth.

“thor, close your mouth, you look like a trout.” steve reprimands. 

he dismisses his comment and goes to steal the mashed potatoes, eating straight out of the bowl with no shame. 

“did he put up a good fight against you guys?” bucky questions.

“well he wasn’t exactly intimidated by me, i usually let y/n play bad cop while i just web them up,” peter admits.

you’re chewing your food while you watch bucky and your boyfriend converse, “see what i told you? you gotta take control, pete. ask yourself this: would you rather be feared or loved by your enemies?”

“easy,” he answers, “both. i want people to be afraid of how much they love me.”

nat pokes her tongue to her cheek and tilts her head in confusion. 

“oh, that reminds me,” you nervously chuckle and pull out the slip tucked into your back pocket, “i need you to pay for my speeding ticket, tony.” 

“again?! y/n that’s the second time this month!”

“that criminal guy was a surprisingly fast driver. besides, life is short. drive fast and leave a sexy corpse. it’s one of my mottos.”

“goddamnit, y/n” tony mutters and shakes his head in disappointment. 

steve interrupts, “you should listen to him, young lady. seriously, what would happen if you were in a speeding car crash? why do you think those laws are enforced? it’s to keep everyone safe. so you better straighten up the attitude before you get yourself k-”

“cap, you ignorant slut.” you’re tired of everyone treating you and peter like little kids, “you want to talk about being safe? are we forgetting about banner’s little experiment that went wrong the other day? he almost blew up the tower!-”

“wait, what did you just call me?” the soldier looks at you dumbfounded.

“what did i- … what’d i say?”

“you just called me a-”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. i talk a lot so i learn to just tune myself out.” 

“you and me both,” strange clips. 

“wow,” you respond, feigning hurt, “sorry i annoyed you with my friendship.”

tony, having enough, intrudes, “you know, i think i have to put you and peter through some training again.” 

the boy skeptically squints towards the man and chews his food slowly, “...what type of training?”

“sensitivity training. all this trash talk is-”

“oh my god, not again,” your head falls back as you groan, “i’ve changed, tony. i’ve learned to keep my unmannerly thoughts to myself every time i see someone wearing black socks with white shoes.”

“uh that’s definitely not true,” bucky cuts in, “just yesterday you called me out for wearing sandals.” 

“exactly! sandals! who the hell still wears sandals, you look like you just got off the boat. i don't need to see your hairy toes,” you shudder in disgust.

“yea, mr. stark,” peter reverts his attention back to tony, “we don’t talk trash,” he shrugs.

“we talk smack,” you finish.

“okay… and how are those two any different,” the man challenges.

“well,” peter clears his throat, “trash talk is hypothetical. like, ‘your mom is so fat she can eat the internet.’” 

“totally,” you eagerly nod your head in agreement, “but smack talk is happening, like, right now. like, ‘you’re ugly and i know it for a fact ’cause i got the evidence right there,” your hand motions in a circle to the person in front of you.

“are you calling me ugly?” thor sniffles.

“i don’t know what the hell you just said, and i don’t even wanna know,” tony wipes his mouth with a napkin, “but it’s happening. nine am sharp, do not be late. it’ll be quick and easy, not that hard. you’ll be in and out without the attitude.”

you pout as you and peter give each other a dismay look.

“that’s what she said.”

[agent99galanzo]

The Comeback

Summary:

After five years away, you return to the Avengers compound with a new look and attitude, igniting old flames with Natasha at Tony's party.

---

The lights of the Avengers compound shimmered in the twilight as you approached, heart racing with anticipation. It had been five years since you left, five years of honing your skills and reinventing yourself. Gone was the person they once knew; in your place stood a confident, formidable force, ready to reclaim your place among the heroes.

As you stepped inside, the lively chatter and laughter came to a sudden halt. The room fell silent as eyes turned toward you, each member of the team stunned into disbelief. You wore a sleek, form-fitting outfit that accentuated your every curve, the fierce demeanor in your gaze sparking curiosity and admiration.

“Is that… Y/N?” someone murmured.

You smirked, relishing the reactions as you made your way through the crowd. But there was one person you were particularly eager to see—Natasha. She stood across the room, her mouth slightly agape, a mixture of surprise and intrigue etched on her face.

“Y/N,” she breathed, as you closed the distance. The tension crackled between you, palpable and electric.

“Miss me?” you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

“More than you know,” she replied, regaining her composure but unable to hide her smile. “You look… incredible.”

“Thanks, but I think it’s time you upgraded your look too,” you winked, your banter picking up right where it left off.

The party resumed around you, but all that mattered was the two of you. You flirted effortlessly, exchanging stories and sly remarks, the chemistry between you reigniting like a match to gasoline.

“I’ve missed this,” Natasha said, leaning closer, her voice low. “You always knew how to push my buttons.”

“And I’ve been practicing,” you replied, brushing your fingers against her arm, sending shivers through her.

As the night wore on, you found yourselves alone on the balcony, the stars twinkling above. Natasha leaned against the railing, her demeanor softening. “So, what’s the real reason you came back?”

“To show you that I’m not the same person I was before,” you said, searching her eyes. “I’ve changed, and I’m stronger now.”

“Stronger? Or just different?” she challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“Why don’t we find out?” you suggested, stepping closer, your breath mingling in the cool night air.

Her gaze locked onto yours, the tension thickening. “You always knew how to play with fire.”

“And you loved it,” you shot back, emboldened. “Maybe it’s time to spark a flame again.”

Just then, a loud crash echoed from inside the party, breaking the moment. Natasha chuckled, shaking her head. “Always interrupting us.”

“Let them,” you said, a mischievous smile forming. “We’ve got all night.”

As you leaned in, her eyes flickered with a mix of excitement and caution. “You realize this could end badly, right?”

“Or it could lead to something amazing,” you countered, your voice low and inviting.

She studied you for a moment, then smiled, the warmth of her expression making your heart race. “You’re right. I’ve missed this too much to let fear hold me back.”

With that, you closed the distance, your lips brushing against hers, igniting the spark you had both longed for. The kiss was electric, filled with passion and unspoken promises, the world around you fading into the background.

As you pulled away, both breathless and exhilarated, you knew this was just the beginning. You were back, ready to reclaim not just your place among the Avengers, but also the heart of the woman who had always ignited your soul.

---

[gingerlee-holds]

OK SO!!! I had the cutest idea :3 Peter (one) and reader are either silly besties or dating or both :3 and they are both crazy tired drunk considering it’s past 3 am and because of all the silliness they get into a tword fight! (Possibly more Lee reader cause I feel like Peter would be feral when hyper and sleep deprived 🤣) and eventually Tony comes in and is like wtf is wrong with you two idiots?? GO TO BED!!! (Secretly loves seeing his kids all giggly and adorable :3 🥺❤️) and then they both end up crashing and getting sleepy but they are still a little giggly about some jokes/moments which leads to more tickles and it’s like sleepy cuddly giggly tickles 😭❤️ and then they both get supppperrrr sleepy and end up falling asleep in each others arms with smiles on their faces and tony comes back in cause he’s scared the children are dead 😂 and sees the adorableness and proceeds to post it to the avengers group chat and it ends in them waking up being like WHO THE FUCK TOOK A PICTURE OF US!? 🤣 (ok definitely mutal pining/idiots in love but they just don’t admit it yet 🥹)

okayokay so this was kinda just written with you in mind teddy xD i love ya and i hope you enjoy this silly lil fic!!

Feral

Words: 1,275 Pairing: Ler!Peter1, Lee!Reader Warnings: whoooole lotta fluff heehee

“Uno!” you called out. You grinned to yourself as you glared playfully over your final card at Peter, who had somehow collected fifteen cards throughout the game. His eyes squinted suspiciously as he hesitantly placed down the yellow three before he jolted backward in shock when you slammed down the red three, winning you the game.

“C’mon!” Peter fell sideways onto the carpet with a groan. “We’ve been doing this for five hours! How have I not been able to win even once?”

“I’m just too good!” You giggled as you playfully hit his shoulder. Looking over at the clock on the wall, you saw he was correct: it was past three in the morning, and not another soul was stirring in the entire Avengers tower. Both of you had been blinking sleep from your eyes for a while, but neither wanted to go to bed. Most of the other heroes had missions they were absent for, but the few still at the tower were fast asleep.

Peter yawned, bringing your attention back to him. It was so rare that you two spent so much time with each other. You missed the messy-haired hero a lot when he wasn’t around, and now that you two had the weekend mission-free, you were utterly adamant that you would make the most of it. You yawned, too. The stubbornness that made you such a valuable addition to the team was matched only by the spiderling. Grinning, you picked up the cards and began to reshuffle them.

“No, please, no more,” Peter whined sleepily, smiling despite his tone. “Can we play something else?”

“Like… Battleship? You know I’m always down to beat you again,” you giggled and stuck out your tongue. The two of you may have been on par with stubbornness, but you had him and everyone else soundly beat when it came to board games, to the degree that Tony insists you’re somehow cheating. 

“Absolutely not! I’d rather take a hive of wasps,” Peter grumbled, sitting back up with a huff. He hummed in thought before grinning. “I know a game we can play.” 

You tilted your head a bit, interested. “What did you have in mind?”

“Close your eyes for a second.”

Doing as you were told, you closed your eyes, sitting perfectly still and trying to guess what Peter was doing. Unfortunately for you, Peter was among the stealthier Avengers, something he demonstrated when you felt his hands grab you from behind, scribbling over your tummy. 

“We should have a tickle fight!” Peter giggled into your ear as you erupted into bubbly laughter. “This is a game I know I can win!” 

“YouhuhU LihIhihIttle ShihihIhihit! GehehEHet OhohohOFf!!” You kicked your feet, sending Uno cards flying all over the room. Peter wiggled his fingers up to your ribs, and your laughter kicked up a notch as you thrashed about in his grasp. 

“I’ll do no such thing! I’m stronger than you, little cutie!” 

Your face instantly began heating up. Whether or not the tease was intentional, it was extraordinarily flustering to hear from Peter Parker. You swatted at his hands as you squeaked, and, so experienced to losing tickle fights, Peter knowledgeably grabbed one of your wrists and held it up so he could scribble in the hollow of your underarm, making you shriek in surprise. 

Suddenly, you both heard the unmistakable sound of a middle-aged man clearing his throat in disapproval. Looking over, you both saw a very grumpy Tony Stark leaning against the doorway. 

The silence hung in the air for a while before Peter whispered, “You can almost see the smoke coming out of his ears,” and the two of you burst into hysterical giggles. 

Tony groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose in fond agitation. “I would ask what you two kids are doing awake this late at night, but I don’t want to know. Bedtime is now-time.” He pointed to the two twin beds in either corner of the room, then folded his arms over his chest. “You two have got to start going to bed on time.”

Peter giggled a little more, saying, “But that would be such a stark difference from what we usually do!” His pun made you both again dissolve into sleepy, senseless laughter. 

Sighing, Tony again cleared his throat. It was very obvious to all the other inhabitants of the tower that Tony utterly adored the two youngest members of the team. He was clearly struggling to speak seriously before the two giggly children on the carpet. “Peter,” he said firmly, giving him that look that the spiderling instantly took to mean he had reached the limit.

“Yes, Mr. Stark. Sorry, Mr. Stark. We’ll go to bed right away, Mr. Stark.”

Tony grinned wearily and nodded. “I’ll check back in half an hour. If you two aren’t asleep by then, I’m changing the Wifi password.” With that, he left and shut the door behind him.

It turns out the two young heroes didn’t even have the strength to make it into their beds. Still in a clingy mood from your tickles, you held onto Peter’s arm tightly, and both of you made a concerted effort to reach his bed, but in the end, collapsed onto Peter’s bean bag. You both yawned simultaneously, giggling about Peter’s bad jokes. 

The spiderling smiled, encouraged by your giggles. His hand slowly reached down and began tracing up your side. “The itsy bitsy spiderrrr…” Peter mumbled, slurring his words in exhaustion. 

You felt your face heating up again and scooted away from his hand, inadvertently snuggling closer to Peter. “Dohohohon’t!”

“Dohon’t what, cutie?”

Whining, you were too sleepy to squirm away as he continued gently tracing your sides. “Tihihickle meeee…” you mumbled.

“That’s what I’m doing, silly~!”

You huffed and buried your face in his shoulder. “Jeheherk!” Although you didn’t say so, the tickles were very relaxing, almost lulling you to sleep -more than almost. When his breath finally evened out to sleep, you didn’t stand a chance. Both of you were out like lights. 

Tony walked back in, expecting to deal with more patented Peter Snark. To his surprise, he saw the two little heroes tuckered out on the beanbag, holding each other tightly with big cozy smiles on both of their faces. Tony pressed a button on his glasses, taking a secret photo, before pulling it up on his phone to send to the official Avengers group chat, followed by a heart emoji. He yawned and shut the door behind him. Going to sleep sounded like a pretty good idea.

The chipper chirps of midday birdsong were interrupted by a shriek of embarrassment. “Wake up. Peterpeterpeter, wake the hell-!” You shoved at his shoulder frantically, not looking up from your phone.

The spiderling jolted awake, mumbling a Star Wars reference that was quickly cut off by a gasp when he looked at his phone. It was noon - they were supposed to be awake for combat training five hours ago! But that wasn’t the worst: the Avengers group chat had been active. He looked back through the messages, his face redder and redder as he read through the messages filled with the other Avengers gushing over the adorableness of the two young heroes. Peter finally reached a message from Tony, and upon seeing the image of the two of them snuggling together, he looked up, wide-eyed, at you. You looked at him right back. 

A heartbeat.

Cuties.

You both cleared your throats and stood, quickly running to prepare for training. However, you not-so-subtly saved the image to your camera roll, making you smile every time you saw it.