#But somehow it works and didn't explode yet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ninus9607 · 13 days ago

Text

Lights, Camera, Action! - Elizabeth Olsen

Pairing(s): Elizabeth Olsen x Female! reader

Word count: 12,3K

tags: l content: slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, actress x actress, wlw MCU, smut, dominant! Lizzie, sub! reader, praise kink, possessive! Lizzie, hickeys & marks, dirty talk, soft smut, fluff, and smutpost-sex cuddles

AN: GUYS, I HOPE YOU WILL LIKE IT, PLS FORGIVE ME FOR EVERY MISTAKE

San Diego Comic-Con – Hall H

The lights in Hall H were brilliant, and the atmosphere was electric with expectation. I sat in my seat on the Marvel panel stage, my heart racing faster than it ever had on filming. This wasn't my first visit, but it was the first time anybody noticed I was here.

Two years ago, I played a "blink-and-you 'miss" character in Age of Ultron. A few lines. A powerful scene. A shadow in the midst of chaos. However, fans remembered. Somehow, they remembered.

I suppose Black Raven left a mark.

Kevin Feige came in close to the microphone, smirking as if he were about to unleash a bombshell. "Some of you might remember a mysterious character who appeared briefly in Age of Ultron."

A renegade force, morally gray and extremely strong... "A vampire who left the fight before the dust had settled."

Whispers spread across the room. The phones were already out. My name was already trending before he said anything.

"Well," he added, "I believe it's time she returned. This time, she's not hiding in the shadows.

He turned to face me. "Please welcome back Y/N Salvatore- returning as Y/C/N, also known as Black Raven, in Captain America: Civil War."

The audience exploded. I blinked under the stage lights, giving a little shocked smile as the room took me completely.

"I'm still trying to believe this is real," I added as the ovation went down. "The last time I came here, I got maybe three minutes of screen time and one stunt scene. Now I am here and just Wow!"

Laughter.

I looked down the table, and there she was. Elizabeth Olsen. Sitting a few chairs away and giving me that familiar half-smile. Soft and illegible. There's something more behind it. Curiosity. Recognition.

We hadn't shot anything together yet, not really. There was only one brief interaction in Ultron that never reached the final edit. But fans have been shipping our characters ever since. Perhaps it was the tension.

Perhaps it was the way my character had watched hers walk away from Sokovia, her face empty as if they had exchanged something neither of them could understand.

The Marvel team went on to other announcements, but I could sense excitement rising around me. Questions from the press. Fan art is already overwhelming social media. Speculation.

Wanda Maximoff and Black Raven are two shattered, deadly women on opposing sides of a conflict.

And somehow, they were destined to clash.

I looked across at Lizzie again.

She was still watching me.

God, I had no clue what was going to happen.

By the end of the panel, I felt like I was floating. The shouting of the audience, the dazzling glare of cameras, and the way supporters sang my name as if I'd always been one of them. As if I hadn't just slipped through the gaps in Ultron and nearly vanished for good.

Outside the hall, the air was dense and bustling. Fans flocked behind barriers with posters, comics, and custom art, and I foolishly attempted to stroll past secretly.

Did not work.

"Y/N! Over here!"

"Oh my god, Black Raven!"

"Please sign this!"

I looked down at a poster of my character, dark and majestic in the shadows, fangs barely visible, red flames curling around her fingers. They even got the cloak correctly. And the eyes—burning with something wild.

"I didn't even know people still cared," I said, surprised as I signed the edge.

"They never forgot you," a devoted fan muttered.

I continued signing. Posters. A sketch of Black Raven and Wanda holding hands and staring at one another like lovers. A shirt with the phrase, "I Do Believe In Killing The Messenger. Know Why? Because It Sends A Message." One female gave me a little plush replica of my character. I laughed so hard I almost cried.

That night, when I returned to my hotel room, the adrenaline hadn't even worn off. I threw off my shoes, opened a soda, and cuddled up on the bed in my huge con sweater. Just as I was going to cruise lazily on Instagram, a fresh notification appeared.

"Robert Downey Jr. added you to the group 'Avengers Assemble 💥'"

I blinked. Then blinked again.

A flood of messages came:

(RDJ) well well well. look who's back from the dead

(Chris E.): about time

(Tom H.): I've literally been waiting since I was twelve

(Lizzie 🥀): welcome back, stranger

(ScarJo): don't read the fine print. you're already in too deep

(Hemsworth 🍺): A VAMPIRE! I KNEW I LIKED YOU

I laughed into my pillow. What the hell is my life right now?

My fingers hovered over the group chat. I typed, deleted, and then finally sent:

(You): wait... what exactly did I sign up for?

(RDJ): That's cute. She thinks she has a choice.

(Lizzie 🥀): don't worry. you're safe with us.

(Lizzie 🥀): ...mostly.

I bit my lip, rereading the last message. My heart did something strange. Probably just the Coke. Or the heat. On the other hand, Lizzie sent a winking emoji immediately after.

I hadn't even read the entire script yet. I wasn't sure where my character was headed. Whether Black Raven would fight with or against Wanda. Whether they were enemies or anything else.

The sun filtered through the hotel drapes, creating a golden and gentle glow. I lay there for a time, taking in the peaceful morning mood. My body hurt in that slow, wonderful manner after yesterday's rush of panels, autographs, and screaming fans. I should have felt tired. I should have grumbled, nestled further into the cushions, and requested for another five minutes.

But I did not.

Because this was the day.

This is my first official Marvel table read since Age of Ultron. My actual return. Not just a postscript. Not as a supporting character with two lines and a beautiful battle scene. But as a true player, Black Raven. People remember the vampire antiheroes.

I took a long shower, letting the water calm my worries, the steam wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. Once dry, I stood in front of the closet for a little moment, just long enough to feel a flutter in my chest.

I wanted to feel like myself. But I also wanted to appear like I belonged here.

I put on cut black pants that hugged my waist well and made me feel quietly strong. A fresh white shirt was tucked in with a relaxed grace, and I layered on a lightweight, long camel coat that murmured gentle luxury.

Small gold hoops, silver rings, and a pair of glossy black loafers that catch the light. No logos. There's no chaos. Simply classic lines and calm assurance.

I left my hair down, brushed and elegant, with a single clip on the side to keep it out of my face. Makeup was clean, smooth, and very effortless. A little brow gel, a pop of color, and tinted lip balm.

I gazed into the mirror.

European subtlety with a biting undertone. That was me!

The studio sent a vehicle. Standard black SUV with silent driver and darkened windows. Very Marvel. I sat in the back with my coffee, pretending I wasn't sweating.

When I got to the lot, someone from production greeted me with a badge and a big smile. "They're all inside already. "You are sitting between Anthony and Lizzie."

"Lizzie?"

"Elizabeth Olsen."

"Cool," I blurted far too hastily. "Cool, cool, cool."

The door to the reading room opened, and I walked into a strange little dream. Long table. Dozens of chairs. Familiar faces, some I'd only seen in films, others I'd met briefly years before.

Scarlett Johansson gave me a wink and a nod. Sebastian Stan lifted his coffee as a toast. Chris Evans grinned and patted me on the back. "About damn time."

Then Lizzie.

She was already sitting, thumbing through the script, her hair in a loose braid, and a comfortable, oversized sweater flowing down one shoulder. She glanced up the instant I walked in, and her face brightened.

Like, genuinely lights up.

"Hey, stranger," she whispered quietly, rising to hug me.

I froze for a half-second. Just a second. Then I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tightly. She smelled like honey, coffee, and something warm that I couldn't identify.

"You look like you belong here," she said softly against my ear. "You ready to break hearts?"

"Only if you help," I said back.

She drew away, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn't identify.

We sat down. Anthony Mackie leaned in and said, "Just so you know, there are already fan edits of you two spreading."

Lizzie smiled without looking up. "I've seen them."

The reading started.

Tony had lines. So did Steve. But as the image transitioned to Wanda and Black Raven, Wanda stopped outside a decaying structure, her hand lifted in midair as Y/N came from the shadows. I could feel a shift in the collective reaction.

I read my line carefully, eyes fixed on the page. "Did you miss me, little witch?" My European accent went on.

And Lizzie... God! Lizzie's voice dropped an octave. "You were supposed to be dead."

I gazed at her. She stared at me.

The table remained still. Someone let out a faint whistle. Someone another said, "Y'all need a moment?"

We laughed. Just enough to release the stress.

But that moment lasted.

After the reading, everyone went for notes, coffee, and chaos. I found myself near the studio lot, seated on a low wall behind a shade tree, phone in hand, but forgotten. Lizzie stepped up with two iced lattes and offered one to me.

"You were incredible," she stated. "Like you never left."

She raised her head. "Still haven't read the whole script?"

I shake my head. "Trying to savor it. I don't want to learn everything too quickly."

She grinned slowly. "Then I will not spoil it. "But...you and I have some scenes."

"Oh?" WHAT???????

"Some very close ones." ARE YOU KIDDING ME, MARVEL

My cheekbones warmed. "You say that like it's a problem."

"It's not." She stared me dead in the eyes, funny yet serious below. "Unless you make it one."

And before I could say anything else, before I could even think, she was walking away, sipping her drink, hips swaying like a goddess in worn jeans and an Avengers crew hoodie.

I stared after her, heart hammering like I'd just survived a stunt scene.

Welcome back to Marvel, I thought.

A few months later.

Most of the nervous butterflies had disappeared by this point. The set had become like a second home, filled with familiar voices and traditions. I wasn't simply a new girl anymore. Everyone made it simple.

Chris gave me the nicest bear hugs and always made sure I ate my lunch. Scarlett had the type of cool that made you want to better your game, yet she always welcomed me with a warm smile and a "Hey, superstar." Anthony Mackie was an utter menace - but in the most lovable manner possible. Paul Bettany kept asking me to read poems between takes, saying it was "very Black Raven of you."

And Robert? He was like my dad!

"And Lizzie..." Lizzie was something else completely.

She'd knock on my door, holding a coffee in one hand and a protein snack in the other, as if she knew just when I needed her. Her jokes were dry, her eyes mischievous, and I'd caught myself looking a bit too long on several occasions.

We had gotten close. She was close enough to connect her arm with mine as we headed to the set. My heart skipped a beat every time she leaned close to murmur something only I could hear.

I knew exactly what I was doing.

I simply didn't know whether she did.

That afternoon, I was sitting with one of the directors, Joe, just outside the soundstage. The sun was casting a wandering light on the edge of the asphalt lot as he ran through the following several days' sequences.

"So, for next week," Joe remarked, brushing through his tablet, "we have the rooftop scene. You and Wanda are alone. It's the first time your character truly opens up."

I tilted my head, wondering. "What kind of open up are we talking about?"

He grinned. "The slow-burning sort. The 'I might not trust the Avengers, but I trust you' type."

My face felt heated.

He caught it as he looked up. "You good with that?"

"Yeah. No, yes. I mean, it's a great scene," I said, flicking through my copy of the script. "So, it's just me and Lizzie on the rooftop. At night?"

Joe nodded. "Right after the dramatic battle sequence. You are both still startled. Then it's silent. That time when the city hums under you and there is no goal or strategy. Just—" He hesitated and grinned. "Just feelings."

I swallowed. "Right. Feelings."

I sat in my trailer, flipping over the script. The rooftop scene.

It wasn't romantic, officially. But it may be.

Wanda looks at Y/N with gentle eyes. Y/N does not flinch for the first time. They don't quite touch. But it is near. Too close.

CMON Y/N, U GOT THIS! YOU ARE A TALENTED ACTRESS, DON'T U?

Interior Set – Rooftop at Night – Scene 57

When I arrived at the rooftop set, the wind machines were already rumbling. Lights positioned to resemble a dark skyline threw long shadows across the faux-concrete, and I adjusted the black leather of my outfit as I proceeded to my destination.

Lizzie was already there, in her deep red coat, gaze faraway and focused, and falling into Wanda's sorrow.

Joe made a few parting remarks off camera, but I hardly heard him. My fingertips brushed over the hilt of the false dagger on my thigh. The character's familiar weight slipped into my chest like a second skin. I wasn't Y/N Salvatore anymore. I was Black Raven.

"Ready?" the assistant director called.

"Rolling!" came from the sound.

"Slate in!"

The clack of the slate snapped, and then -

"Action!"

I let my gaze fall to the city skyline in front of me, taking in the depth of the picture and the severity of what I was going to say. The director, Joe, was allowing us space to relax into the spirit of the moment. I needed it.

I took a breath and proceeded carefully toward Wanda, each step thoughtful and silent. Raven's boots reverberated softly on the rooftop floor. My expression was inscrutable, meticulously crafted, calm on the surface, chaos beneath.

"Why are you here?" Lizzie spoke, her voice as raspy as Wanda's. She avoided looking at me at first, as if it hurt too much.

Raven paused. Her gaze searched the devastation below. Blood had flowed. Soldiers had died.

"You still believe in me," I said — Raven said. Her tone was not desperate. It was not a plea. Just pure curiosity. "Even after everything."

Wanda finally met her eyes.

"Because you've never hurt me."

A pause.

"And because you care... even when you don't want anyone to see it."

My expression flared. Not too much. Just enough to show that anything impacted her insides. My jaw clenched. I came closer, slowly and cautiously, as if Wanda was something I might damage simply by being near her.

Raven's voice lowered to almost a whisper now. "Maybe I'm tired of hiding."

And then, unexpectedly, her breath caught. Her face crumbled in the simplest, most human manner. Her shoulders twisted inward, as if she were sinking beneath an unseen weight, and tears welled up in her eyes, quiet, genuine, quivering on her eyelids.

"They're still arguing about whether you're dangerous or just reckless."

I smirked. "They're not wrong."

"I saw what you did out there," she said. "To those soldiers."

"They were trying to blow up a refugee truck," I answered casually. "So I ripped their throats out. Problem solved."

"You could've taken them down without... that."

"I could have," I replied, finally turning to face her. "But where is the fun in that?"

"You're not heartless."

Lizzie's voice trembled just slightly, even as her magic buzzed through the air like a quiet hum between us. "You just don't waste your heart on the wrong people."

"I never asked for this," I whispered, voice strained. "I just wanted to protect something, for once."

Then tears began to fall.

Not in the script.

Not planned.

I could sense that everyone was watching.

"You don't have to do it alone," Lizzie said quietly, coming in closer and gently placing her forehead on Y/N's. "We will figure it out. Together."

"Cut!"

I blinked once and again. Straightened. I took a silent step back, shrugged my shoulders, and wiped the tear from beneath my eye with my knuckle as if it were just another spread of makeup.

The entire crew remained quiet.

And then

Applause.

Real, loud applause.

"Holy shit," I heard someone from the lights mutter.

Joe went forward with a shocked expression and raised his hands. "That, whatever it was, we're keeping it. There is no second take."

Lizzie continued to gaze at me, her eyes wide. "How do you do that?" she muttered. "Like—switch it on and off like that?"

I laughed softly, removing an unwanted strand of hair from my face. "I drink a lot of espresso and don't think about it too much."

She grinned slowly, a little confused. "You were amazing."

"You made it easy," I replied softly, my voice totally Y/N again. "Your Wanda breaks my heart."

Joe walked over, his expression surprised. "That... was beyond incredible. Y/N, Elizabeth—your chemistry, the way you two just... felt that scene. I can't even put it into words. That was... magic."

But I felt it.

The way everyone looked at me has changed a little differently now.

The way Lizzie did, especially.

And I couldn't help but wonder, was it still just acting?

My phone lights up...

"Don't judge me," Robert said via text. "But I'm very certain I ate something suspicious today. "

I giggled softly to myself before scrolling down to see what others had said- Chris had tweeted a photo of himself "prepping for battle" with a pile of weights stacked around him. Then I received a text from Lizzie.

(Lizzie 🥀)I'm curious, Y/N: do you ever simply... quit being Black Raven? Is she always on your mind?

The message she wrote took me off guard, sending a shudder down my spine. I quickly composed my reply.

(You)I wish I could claim I left her on set, but she stays. But when you work with people like you, Lizzie, it's difficult not to bring her out, you know?

I waited for a bit, my pulse pumping slightly quicker than normal as I expected her reaction. But before I could think about it, my phone rang again.

(Lizzie 🥀)Hmm, maybe I'll give Wanda a chance at her. 😉 The chemistry is obvious.

I smiled, though no one could see it. I wasn't sure if she was still talking about our characters or something more personal. Perhaps both.

(You): Is this a challenge? Because Black Raven will not back down from one.

I sat back, exhaled, and smiled slightly. Was it a flirtation? I couldn't tell, but I didn't mind being unclear. For once, I wanted to let the words hang in the air without overthinking them. After all, everything was in good humor.

(RDJ) (After Lizzie's message): That's all. Y/N and Lizzie are now a real thing. Someone bring the popcorn.

I blinked, thoroughly caught off guard. Wait, was he talking about the chat? About us?

(Chris E.): You know what? I think they'd make an excellent couple. Don't you think?

(You): Lol, okay, okay, maybe I've had too much espresso today.

The studio lights had been bright for hours, and my legs hurt from running through take after take. The strain that came from filming Captain America: Civil War was finally easing as we took a break and spread across the set, ready for the next scene. The entire team had gathered in the makeup room to cool down, get food, and do everything they could to rest for a few seconds before the chaos returned.

I found myself standing in the corner of the room, trying to recover my breath while checking my phone for emails, texts, and the usual disaster. Lizzie walked in, her hair still a little filthy from the previous takes but looking effortlessly gorgeous as always. She gave me a heart-stopping smile, and I couldn't help but smile back.

"How's the new Black Raven scene going?" Lizzie asked, leaning on the counter near me. Her voice was sweet and playful, as if she understood how hard the day had been.

I rolled my eyes theatrically. "Oh, you understand. Running, battling, and being hit by objects I'm supposed to avoid. A typical day in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, right?"

Lizzie chuckled, her eyes bright with delight. "I'm sure it's nothing compared to the battle we're about to have in the next scene."

I raised my eyebrow at her. "Are you telling me Wanda is going to fight Black Raven? I'm all in on that."

Lizzie shrugged lightly, but I saw how her gaze lingered on mine a little longer than needed. "Who knows? Perhaps we'll be on the same side. Or not. You never know with us. "We have history."

That final part caught my attention.. She said it casually, but there was something more beneath the words, making me question if she was hinting at something more. "So, what do you think about the future?" Will we be best friends or enemies?" I asked, hoping to keep the discussion light, but I could see the air between us shifting, charged with something more.

Lizzie paused, her lips twisting into a cheeky grin. "I believe we could have some interesting chemistry on screen. You and I."

"Alright, guys," Joe Russo's voice echoed through the room, "let's get ready for the next shot."

The Filming Break

After another long sequence, the team took a break, and I found myself seated next to Lizzie again. This time, we were joined by a few other cast members, but the space between Lizzie and me felt different, as if there was an invisible thread pulling us together, even though we were sitting around chatting. We chuckled about the most recent scenario, in which our characters were meant to face off in a dramatic battle.

"You looked incredible in that fight scene," Lizzie added, her eyes shining with real adoration. "I have to admit, I didn't expect to be that ruthless."

I chuckled and shook my head. "Hey, this is all part of the character. But it's difficult to keep a straight face when we're dressed in silly costumes."

There was a silent moment, and the sound of the team preparing the next shot resonated in the distance. But it was not my top priority. I was concentrated on Lizzie, her eyes meeting mine,

"Maybe we could do that," I replied gently, my pulse pounding slightly quicker. "After we finish filming, might we... have a drink? Talk about life beyond the MCU?"

Lizzie's expression softened, and I could see a change in her eyes. She was considering it. "I'd like that," she murmured, barely rising above a whisper.

The last take had just finished, and the entire set burst into cheers. Some of us cheered and accepted. I stood there, hands on my hips, gathering my breath, my heart rushing from adrenaline rather than actual effort.

Months of filming, endless takes, bruises, sweat, early mornings, and late nights resulted in this: the final fight sequence in Berlin.

We were still in costume, half-covered in fake dirt, sweat seeping down between layers of leather, yet no one cared. There was a thrill, the type you feel after doing something incredible.

One of the assistants rolled in a monitor, and the director called out, "Alright, gather around. Let's watch the last sequence. You've earned it."

The screen began to light up. The first few clips of the Berlin combat began to play, with all the uncut footage patched together by one of the editors, who worked like magic. We watched as Cap and Tony fought, Peter helped with his spider ability, and Scott transformed into an actual giant.

But then came the moment we all waited for.

Wanda, or Lizzie in full Scarlet Witch beauty, flew over the asphalt and landed hard. The camera switched to a wide shot. A burst of black feathers and red energy appeared on the screen.

There I was, racing full speed at her, my boots hitting the concrete with amazing elegance. I sank to my knees next to her, scared yet cool. The sound wasn't completely mixed yet, but we could still hear the speech perfectly.

"You shouldn't have stayed behind."

"And let you go alone?" Never."

"You betrayed Tony."

"I don't care."

Everyone else made some kind of noise—"Oof," "Damn," "Okay, chemistry!" but I hardly heard it. I was looking at the screen too much. Specifically, on me, who was almost straining not to gaze at Wanda's chest in that fitting corset. And failing.

Badly.

Lizzie's lips twitched into a grin, and I noticed this out of the corner of my eye. She leaned down and said, "You were definitely not looking at my chest all the time in that scene."

Let forth a faint, regretful chuckle. "I stayed in character."

"Oh, sure," she said, sipping her coffee like a smug witch. "Black Raven was just emotionally overwhelmed by the... depth of Wanda's neckline."

By the time the last fight scene appeared on the monitor, the audience had quieted.

Everything stopped, including the conversation, taunting, and rustling of the food. We all sat there, actors still clad in half-costumes, sweating, hanging to our foreheads, our gaze fixed on the screen. The Berlin conflict was chaotic, but this was something else.

Tony. Steve. Bucky.

It wasn't simply punches and shields anymore; betrayal, sorrow, and desperation were woven into every action. Every punch was personalized. Every breath was heaviest.

When the shield collided with the arc reactor, there was a collective inhalation.

Nobody spoke. Nobody had to.

I noticed Chris and Robert seated side by side, both appearing much more serious than normal. Sebastian had his arms folded and his eyes squinted. Lizzie's fingers remained motionless against the sleeve of her sweatshirt, her knuckles white.

Then the screen went dark.

And another scene started.

Steve stormed down the Raft's hallways, mouth clenched, eyes scouring each gloomy path. The emergency lights flashed to a low red. The doors burst open. Guards had died. Empty cells.

Everyone leaned forward.

We hadn't viewed the footage yet—it wasn't done. Despite knowing what was about to happen, my stomach fluttered. I recalled shooting it and the weight of it. The atmosphere on set had been strained that day.

The camera followed Steve through the prison until he came to a stop.

Right there, bodies sprawled over the floor. Wanda's cell broke open. Debris. Smoke. Chaos.

Then the Woman emerged from the darkness, boots clicking on damp concrete.

Black Raven.

Me.

Drenched in blood, with tangled hair, the black villain's outfit is ripped and wild, like shadows sewn to skin. My character was motionless—except for her arms, which clutched Wanda against her chest. Wanda's hand grabbed my shoulder weakly.

Steve's voice resonated and was raspy. "What did you do?"

"What you would not do. Do not try to stop me, no one will hurt her again. And be careful, Captain. You're only alive because she likes you. And everything on my body wants to murder you, so stand aside."

The place nearly burst.

"Holy shit," Anthony Mackie said, half-standing. "That was badass."

"That's gonna break the internet," Scarlett said, her eyes still wide.

I saw myself on film taking Wanda to the Helicopter before turning around and disappearing into the darkness.

Chris whistled softly. "That's when the audience knows she isn't just a villain. She's something else entirely."

"I've got chills," Lizzie muttered near me.

Paul blinked. "Did... did your character kill all of them by herself?"

I gave a little smile. "She did."

"I love her," Robert announced.��"She is terrifying. I love her."

Sebastian nudged me. "You looked like a vampire version of Batman."

"Thanks, I think?"

"No, seriously," the director interrupted, arms folded as he inspected the monitor. "That moment, when she carries Wanda like that? That isn't simply dark; it's loyalty. You can feel it."

Lizzie did not say anything immediately. She simply leaned in again and murmured, "You looked like you'd set the world on fire for her."

I looked at her, my lips parted slightly.

"And you looked like you'd let me."

She blushing but did not look away.

"Okay," Chris broke the quiet. "But can we talk about how Steve literally shows up ready to break them out, and Y/N's already done it and left a dramatic calling card?"

"I like a little flair," I shrugged.

"You carried me like a bride," Lizzie teased.

"You looked like one," I shot back without thinking.

She blinked.

So did I.

Scarlett grinned, she knew. "Guys get a room please, your eye fucking is too much even for me."

Jimmy Fallon show - a few months later

The lights came on strong, and the applause was louder than I imagined, but honestly? I was too high on adrenaline to notice.

Walking onto the Tonight Show set with the rest of the Avengers cast was unreal. The audience exploded as if we were true superheroes - Sebastian grinned, Robert blew kisses, Chris and Anthony began arguing playfully, and Scarlett walked like she ruled the building (she kinda did).

I greeted, smiled, and hugged Jimmy Fallon before sliding into my seat between Lizzie and Paul. Not by accident.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Jimmy announced dramatically once we had all settled down, "we have the most powerful couch on Earth right now."

"So," Jimmy leaned forward, fingers steepled, "Captain America: Civil War. Huge feelings. Large fighting. There's a lot of confusion. And some new faces..."

He grinned as he turned to face me. "Y/N Salvatore, Black Raven herself, welcome to the madness."

The audience applauded again. I giggled gently and smoothed my dress.

"Thank you," I said. "I'm still not sure how I ended up here. One day I'm filming in a castle cellar in Romania, and the next I'm avoiding flying vehicles,"

"You're incredible in the movie," Jimmy replied. "The prison scene? You're carrying Wanda out like you're a goth vampire knight in shining armor?"

The crowd howled. Lizzie gave a little sigh beside me, covering her mouth to conceal a chuckle.

"I-I was doing my best, okay?" I shrugged. "Black Raven is a little dramatic. It's in her blood."

Chris said, "She also kills like... twenty guards in under a minute," his eyes wide. "I was like - did we just add a slasher villain to the team?"

"She's not a villain," Lizzie insisted, remarkably adamant. "She's complicated."

I gazed at her. She stared at me.

Jimmy blinked. "Oh, hello."

More laughs. Robert leaned into his microphone. "This has been going on through the press trip. I swear to God."

"Don't look at us like that!" Lizzie protested, her cheeks flushing just enough to be noticed.

"Okay, but," Jimmy said, pulling out a single shot from the tape of me kneeling by Wanda, cradling her protectively, blood streaming from my hands. "You can't blame us for shipping it."

Cue the crowd losing their heads.

Scarlett laughed. "They have unreal chemistry. Like, we all saw it."

"Yeah," Anthony nodded. "Even between takes, they were still looking at each other like—"

"Finish that sentence and I swear—" I warned, but I was laughing too hard to sound serious.

Jimmy grinned. "Okay, alright. We'll keep things cool for now. But truly, your performance was incredible. The emotional intensity, the silence, the uncertainty..."

He turned back to face the group. "Was anyone else on set just like... watching her and forgetting to act?"

Paul raised his hand. "I did. Twice. I got yelled at."

Sebastian nodded. "I tripped over my line."

I ducked my head and grinned. "Now you're all just being sweet."

"No," Lizzie responded quietly. "You were real. And it is unusual."

The room was silent for a little moment. Just enough for me to notice how near her knee was to mine again. And how warm her hand felt as it lightly touched mine as the talk progressed.

We laughed, mocked, and acted out our biggest blunders (Chris screwed up his shield flip and smacked a bulb. Classic). Jimmy showed a montage of us dancing behind the scenes—yes, there was an uncomfortable moment when Lizzie and I spun around in full costume as the stunt squad looked at us like puzzled pups.

But the moment that stuck?

When Jimmy pulled out a fan-edited clip of Black Raven and Wanda with the title: "Born To Burn – A Love Between Fire and Shadow".

And we both blushed like idiots.

I was still laughing at Paul's impersonation of Vision trying yoga when Jimmy leaned in again, this time with that sparkle in his eye that suggested he was ready to stir things up.

"Alright, alright," he murmured, interrupting the laughter. "I know I can't expect too much, but come on... We need to discuss what comes next."

I felt my smile freeze slightly.

"What about the new Avengers lineup? Perhaps a secret antihero will make more appearances?" He raised an eyebrow wildly and fixed his eyes on me. "Y/N, will we be seeing more of Black Raven in the future?"

The audience reacted with a chorus of excited gasps and cheers, with some admirers in the first row already screaming my character's name.

I opened my lips, not knowing what to say.

Scarlett, thankfully, jumped in first. "If she tells you anything, Feige will literally teleport here and kill us all."

Everyone laughed, but Jimmy was not finished.

"Oh, come on," he responded, smirking. "No teases?" "Not even a hint?"

I attempted to maintain a neutral look, but my stomach was already in knots. I hadn't even read the final script for the following step. Rumors were flowing, and the pressure was building, but was it true? I wasn't sure what I was permitted or wanted to say.

I glanced down immediately, attempting to seem casual, but my fingers curled a bit harder around the edge of the couch seat.

Then I felt it.

A soft, comforting hand gently touched my thigh, right above my knee.

Lizzie.

She said nothing and didn't even look at me. Her gaze was still fixed on Jimmy, and her smile was as calm and dazzling as ever. But her thumb glided gently back and forth on the material of my dress.

It was a tiny gesture. Soft. Subtle. But stable.

I inhaled gently through my nose, urging my shoulders to remain calm. My heart, which had begun to stutter in my chest, resumed its normal rhythm.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," I eventually said, giving Jimmy a faint smirk. "But I do think the universe of Black Raven still has some shadows left to explore."

Jimmy lifted both brows and glanced around at the others. "That... felt like a yes."

Robert clapped his hands once. "That was a studio-trained 'I can't answer this' voice if I've ever heard one."

"Ten out of ten," Chris said. "Very smooth."

Lizzie's hand squeezed my thigh, barely noticeable, but she never took her hand off me.

I took a quick glimpse at her.

She didn't look at me. But the sweetest smile tugged on the corner of her lips.

Time passed...

The premier light finally faded. The press junkets slowed. The constant travel, fittings, early call times, and all-day shootings were finally over—or at least put on hold. But even after I returned to my own small corner of the earth, a peaceful house in New Jersey, the Marvel craziness continued.

Naturally, I kept in touch with the cast. That part was simple.

Group discussions were filled with inside jokes and memes. Chris still sent way too many selfies of himself and Dodger. Scarlett dropped voice messages that never made sense, and Robert constantly sent me culinary recommendations no matter where I was in the world.

And then there was Lizzie.

We chatted. Often.

Sometimes it was simply voice messages at 2 a.m. We sometimes had extended FaceTime chats while she was cooking. Sometimes, there was silence, yet it didn't feel far. Just...quiet comfort. Her name was constantly visible at the top of my texts. My thoughts were continuously drawn back to her.

I wasn't quite sure what we were. But I knew we weren't simply friends—that didn't seem right anymore.

It had been pouring outdoors when this happened.

I was tucked up in my favorite oversized sweatshirt, covered in a throw blanket, and sipping chamomile tea while reading through a stack of forgotten mail and half-read magazines that were gathering on the kitchen counter.

Then one headline attracted my attention.

"Scarlet Spell? Black Raven & Wanda Maximoff Actress Spotted Hand-in-Hand After Intimate NYC Dinner"

My stomach dropped, then fluttered.

I focused on the glossy photo printed over the bottom half of the tabloid. It was grainy, somewhat dark, but clearly us. Lizzie and I were going along a quiet street at night after supper last week. I had entirely forgotten that photographers were standing near that restaurant. She was giggling, her head slightly tilted back, and my hand was in hers.

Not for the camera. Not for public relations.

Just... her fingers curled around mine as if they belonged there.

I sat back on the barstool and looked at the paper.

Part of me panicked. What about the other part? I kind of didn't care.

I grabbed for my phone, my fingers hesitating over Lizzie's number.

Before I could start typing, a fresh message appeared on the screen.

Lizzie🩶: You saw it? 🙈 ...We look cute tho, not gonna lie.

Later that night...

My phone buzzed again, this time with an incoming FaceTime call from Lizzie.

I barely hesitated before responding.

Her face dominated the screen, lighted only by the warmth from her bedside lamp. Hair slightly messy, large sweatshirt, no makeup - it's simply her. She still managed to look like a dream.

"Hey," she responded, her voice mild and somewhat raspy. "You okay?"

I grinned and tucked my knees up to my chest. "You mean after our small-town scandal broke the internet?"

Lizzie laughed. "Right, I forgot, hand-holding, the most forbidden act."

"I know," I teased. "Next thing you know,w we'll be... smiling at each other in public."

"Oh, the horror."

We both laughed, slipping into that comfortable rhythm, the easy warmth that only comes from being with someone you trust.

There was a nice pause, although it lasted a little longer than normal.

"You looked good in that photo," she ultimately replied, her gaze shifting away from the camera for a moment. "Not that this is news. You always do."

I blinked, my lips parted slightly. "You, too. You looked happy."

She shrugged casually. "I was. I mean-I am. With you. It's always fun."

"Fun?" I teased, raising an eyebrow. "That's what I am to you?"

Lizzie leaned closer to the TV, smiling. "Maybe a little more than fun."

The butterflies in my stomach grew into something heavier.

And then—

DING!

A group chat notification slid across the top of the screen. "RDJ 🧃🥸: Alright nerds, suit up. We've got a new project to talk about 👀🦸‍♂️ #avengersassembleagain"

I blinked and then laughed out. "Did he seriously just—"

Lizzie was already rolling her eyes and grinning. "Of course he did."

"I didn't even get time to emotionally recover from the last one."

"We never do," she said. "That's the Marvel way."

I gazed back at her via the screen. A glimmer of passion. Her eyes sparkled.

"So," I asked gently, "Do you think we'll work together again?"

She smiled more slowly this time. "I really hope so."

I leaned my cheek against my hand. "Yeah. Me, too."

INT. CONVENTION HALL – MARVEL PRESS CONFERENCE

The stage was stylish. The backdrop said, "Marvel Studios: Phase 4 - Expanding the Universe." The rows of reporters, camera crews, and executives packed the room. The air was alive with curiosity.

I sat next to Lizzie, my posture excellent, and tried not to mess with the pen in my hand. Everyone had papers in front of them with secret Marvel material. Contracts. NDAs. Early outlines of the initiative, which we were here to publicly reveal.

I'd already read mine, attempting to keep my eyes from widening at the images I was in. And, more especially, who I was with throughout them.

Robert leaned down and said, "Have you read page 73 yet?" OH LORD, SEX SCENE...

I gave him a sideways glance. "Don't get me started."

He grinned and leaned back, as though he already knew everything.

Kevin Feige entered the stage. "The next film is something personal. We're sticking with a darker tone and more grounded emotion—but also something fans have been asking for."

The Russo Brothers then emerged, wearing their typical cool and cryptic expressions.

Anthony said that Y/N Hale and Wanda Maximoff would have a significant story in the next film.

The audience did not respond for a second.

And then, BOOM.

Gasps, whispers, and a few shouts. People began making notes and raising their hands. One reporter asked, "Romantic?"

Lizzie's gaze shifted toward me.

Joe nodded. "We can't say more."

My cheeks burned. I gulped water as if my life depended on it.

Chris Evans leaned forward and murmured, "You two are already trending. Check Twitter."

Scarlett gave me a slow smirk. "Better get used to the spotlight again, rookie."

I tried to hide my grin as I signed the last page of my contract. Black ink. Official.

Marvel had just made it canon.

And suddenly, we were the storyline.

INT. OUTDOOR MARVEL STUDIOS LOT – LUNCH TENT

The sun was warm overhead, creating a golden glow over the Marvel lot. A big picnic-style table was set up beneath an umbrella, and it was packed with known faces, including Chris Hemsworth with three protein bowls in front of him, Sebastian mocking Mackie, Tom Holland jumping in his seat, and RDJ at the head like some cheeky monarch.

I sat tucked between Scarlett and Lizzie, pecking at my salad and trying not to seem too excited.

Chris Evans sat down opposite us, sliding his tray as if he owned the table. "Okay, let us discuss Infinity War. No spoilers, but I read the script last night and"

"—You read the script?" Tom cut in quickly. "I've been given, like, three pages, and one of them was blacked out!"

Everyone came out laughing.

"Tom, you're literally the reason we have that many NDAs," Mackie said, pointing at him.

"I'm an innocent boy!" Tom gasped in his English accent.

"Sure you are," Sebastian murmured, his mouth full of fries.

Lizzie leaned over to me, lips close to my ear. "Have you read your scenes yet?"

"Not all," I said, clicking my nails on my water bottle. "But I saw one where I—uh—jump between two crumbling buildings and Wanda save me out mid-collapse?"

She grinned slowly.

"Maybe Marvel's trying to tell you something," Scarlett replied, without looking up from her dish.

Everyone turned.

"What?" She grinned and shrugged. "I see everything."

"Honestly, though," Hemsworth said, "the energy you two bring? Electric. I'm kind of jealous."

"Agreed," RDJ said. Seeing your connection on screen is like witnessing a solo film romance inserted into a superhero film. Very broody and intense."

Lizzie and I exchanged looks. I attempted to laugh it off, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"We're just... committed to the characters," I explained, attempting to maintain a cheerful tone.

"Right," Sebastian responded, exaggerating. "Very... method."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't you have a brooding scene to rehearse or something?"

Chris Evans smiled. "I ship it."

Tom blinked. "You mean in the movie?"

RDJ leaned back, his sunglasses glinting. "Sure, let's say that."

Lizzie's hand brushed mine under the table again, intentionally, softly. I looked down. She didn't move it. Neither did I.

"Okay, no spoilers," Feige called as he passed by with his own tray. "But can we all agree this cast is going to break hearts in Infinity War?"

"Oh, they're not ready," Scarlett said, gesturing between Lizzie and me with her fork. "Especially not for these two."

I hid my face in my cup. Lizzie just chuckled lowly beside me.

The sun was beginning to set behind the sound stages, coloring the sky in gold and pink. I was snuggled up on the little sofa in my trailer, script pages spread out on my lap, but I wasn't reading anymore.

Instead, I found myself looking at a specific scene, one in which my character and Wanda kiss and have sex. We're supposed to shoot it today. This is my first time on a Marvel movie with wlw intimate scenes, and I am quite nervous. There is also a sex scene with Lizzie, so ahhh.... This was not the first time our characters had kissed. Not by far. But... it was the one that lingered in my chest the most.

It wasn't difficult to pretend I was dating Wanda Maximoff. If anything, it was too simple. Sometimes I told myself that this was the most natural character I'd ever performed. The gentle stares, the lingering touches, the calm times between explosions when she'd grab my hand—it no longer seemed like acting. It felt like breathing.

The only thing that was not real was the kisses. And yet, every time Lizzie's lips touched mine on camera, I fell a bit deeper.

The first few times had been playful. Nervous laughs, gentle chuckles when the director yelled cut. But recently, Lizzie had changed. There was a change. There is a dominance to the way she touches me now- less hesitant, more confident. Her fingertips on my jaw, her thumb caressing my face, the gentle way she guided me through the scene.

And I let her. Gladly.

God, I probably looked like an idiot, leaning into her every action as if gravity drew me there.

I remembered the last scene we'd shot: her v me against the wreckage, and our characters finally having a raw moment of confession. Her forehead was pushed against mine, her breathing unsteady, and for a minute... I wasn't sure whether Wanda or Lizzie was whispering, "I can't lose you."

There was a knock on my trailer door just as I'd finished tying my robe. I was still mentally pacing, flipping through the revised script pages for today's shoot.

Not graphic, not that kind of sex scene, but still intimate. Slow, emotional, intense.

"Come in," I called, voice just a little higher than usual.

The door creaked open, and in stepped one of the Russo brothers, script rolled in hand, calm but serious. "Hey, just wanted to give you and Lizzie a quick rundown before we get on set."

I nodded, trying to keep my expression neutral even though my heart was already speeding up.

"We want it slow. Intimate. Like it's not just passion, but release- relief. You've both been holding it in for so long. There should be touches that feel almost hesitant. But once it starts... we want the audience to feel how much your characters want this."

I nodded again, biting the inside of my cheek. "Got it. Oh, and," he added, "when you're moaning, don't hold back. Say her name. Multiple times, people will love it.

He chuckled like it was nothing, but the casual direction sent a spark of heat up my spine. "Be raw with it."

Yeah. Sure. Totally fine. Definitely not freaking out.

I adjusted the collar of my shirt, which was soft and worn-looking. The costume designer had nailed the "undercover but still slightly dramatic" look. My character's hair was messily tied back, and there was no makeup save for the sort they used to make me appear like I had slept four hours in three days. Real method stuff.

Lizzie was already on set, barefoot, sitting on a pretend bed, and drinking from a paper coffee cup. She gave me that comfortable, lopsided smile. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," I said, taking a long breath.

Joe came in next to us and lowered his voice.

"This is morning-after energy," he explained. "You have been on the run for months. You've got used to the silence and your relationship. You are not superheroes here. You're simply two people trying to hang onto something positive. Something honest. We want to feel that."

I nodded, and Lizzie's expression had already changed. Wanda was there. Tired, gentle, and a little guarded.

And when they called action

Everything slid into place.

"I think I saw someone watching us near the market," I remarked, carefully folding a dish towel and placing it on the counter. "He wasn't following me, but... I'm not sure if I'm paranoid or right."

Wanda, Lizzie, glanced up from the table where she was cutting fruit. Her fingers hesitated slightly. "You're probably correct. You usually are."

I turned to face her. "Doesn't make me feel better."

She let out a giggle and walked to me.

"It's been peaceful here," she remarked. "I forgot what peace even felt like."

Lizzie stood close to me, dressed as Wanda, with delicate makeup and a dark red cloak thrown around her shoulders, her hand gently stretching across the table to mine. "We're safe here," she added, with Wanda's soft, quiet, but authoritative tone. It caused chills down my arms.

I nodded and gazed into her eyes, waiting for my cue. But I wasn't acting anymore. When she gripped my hand.

"We don't have to go back," Lizzie said. "We might disappear here. Just you and I."

I swallowed hard. "You really think they'd let us go?" I demanded, leaning forward as the script instructed me. The intensity of Lizzie's gaze on me felt too genuine.

Her fingers brushed under my chin as she tilted my face up. "Let them try," she whispered, right before her lips pressed to mine.

Her hand slid up my jaw, into my hair. I leaned into her touch, kissed her back like I meant it, because maybe... I did.

We locked eyes.

She leaned down and cupped my jaw with delicate fingertips. Her thumb stroked my face, then lowered to my lips.

"You're safe now," she murmured to Wanda, her voice filled with emotion. "With me."

My breath caught. "I always was," I said, just barely audible.

Then, she kissed me again.

As we explored our mouths with our tongues, she slowly moved us to our bed...

Slow at the beginning. Lingering. Her lips slid against mine as if she understood every curve, every pause that made me melt. Her hands moved beneath the blanket, tracing my waist and bringing me closer. Her leg was looped around mine, possessively.

Then, with one hand, she performed her caressing movement, and I held up my hands as if they were magically tied down, because that is the effect they will add later.

"Wanda"

"OH, Wanda"

But as her lips moved to my neck, Lizzie kissed me differently. Less scripted. Hungrier. Her tongue touched my skin, and her fingers curled behind my neck.

And that is when it slid.

"Lizzie..."

I said it like a breath, a prayer.

The camera did not catch it. Nobody said anything. But I felt it. I knew it.

When the director screamed, "Cut!"I jumped upright and tucked the sheet over my chest.

"I'll, um, I'll be in my trailer," I murmured, blushing.

I didn't glance back at Lizzie. Couldn't. My heart was pounding, and my thoughts were spinning out of control. I grumbled since that was not Wanda.

That was Lizzie.

And I meant it.

I'm fucked.

I had been ghosting everyone for a weeks.

Text messages remained unopened. Conversations in groups were muted. Missed calls from Robert, Chris, Scarlett, Paul, and Lizzie.

I just couldn't.

When I moaned her name on set, it seemed like something inside me split wide open. I hadn't only crossed a professional line; I had revealed something far too true. Then I ran like a coward. Classic. And now? I couldn't even look at her, much less pretend we were "just friends" or "just coworkers."

So I remained away. From the cast. From rehearsals. From everything.

I didn't want to admit it, but the only thing that hurt was Lizzie's lack of communication.

Maybe she overheard it. Perhaps she didn't. Regardless, she remained mute.

That made things worse.

I was cuddled up on my couch, hoodie pulled over my head, watching horrible reality TV and eating cold leftovers when the doorbell rang.

I ignored it.

Then came the second ring.

Then they knocked.

Then there was some banging.

And, through the awful door—

"Y/N Salvatore, if you don't open this door in the next ten seconds, I'm calling Feige and telling him you died in a tragic avocado toast incident."

...Goddammit.

I grumbled and trudged to the door, opening it just slightly. Robert Downey, Jr. was standing there. Designer sunglasses, a wide-brimmed hat, coffee in one hand, and what appeared to be a Gucci purse in the other.

"Oh, thank God," he said, shoving past me. "I thought you had vanished. This area smells of sadness and fried chips. Not cute."

"Nice to see you, too," I mumbled, closing the door behind him.

He turned and pointed at me. "Sit. We're talking."

"I'm fine."

"Nope," he said. "You're in love, ignoring your lover, and attempting to self-sabotage before the greatest Marvel premiere of your life. Also, you haven't showered today."

I narrowed my eyes. "Did Lizzie send you?"

He snorted. "Lizzie has no idea I am here. She's too busy pretending she isn't devastated. Which, by the way, she is doing poorly at. The girl has been poking at foods as if they insulted her mother."

I glanced aside, my arms crossed across my chest.

Robert groaned and sat near me on the couch. "Look. I got it. It's messy. You are afraid. You believe you have ruined something."

"I did ruin it."

He shakes his head. "No. You felt something. She did, too. Salvatore, don't play stupid; you both acted as if you forgot there were cameras. Do you believe that type of chemistry is normal? We were all watching playback and wondering if this was still acting."

I didn't respond.

"You're not alone in this," he said quietly. "You are not a monster for having emotions. She definitely did, too. You're both simply being foolish. Which is why I am hosting dinner tonight. One of our last before the press tour madness begins. Everyone is invited. And yes, you will be there."

"I'm not going."

He stood dramatically. "That's wonderful, but I had already planned to drive you there myself. So either you get ready and arrive dressed like a Greek goddess, or I sling you over my shoulder and drag your theatrical vampire ass out in a robe."

I looked at him, blinking. "...Fine. But I'm wearing black."

"Duh. It is your color."

LATER — Y/N's BEDROOM

I stood in front of the mirror, curling the last strand of my hair. Something elegant but soft. My dress was black, yes, but tasteful. Backless. Flowing. Simple, but still dramatic. I applied a final coat of deep red lipstick.

My heart was racing.

Not because of the dinner. But because I knew I'd see her again. Lizzie.

And I had no idea how to act normally anymore.

But I could fake it. That was the job, right?

I grabbed my heels. Took a breath.

Robert was waiting downstairs, blasting ABBA on his phone like a true icon.

Time to face the chaos.

And maybe... her.

Robert's house is like a Vogue spread transformed into a mansion. There are lights everywhere, jazz playing from concealed speakers, candles flickering around the pool, and so many people.

I squinted at the sight, my heels tapping on the marble as I followed Robert through the front door. "Wait," I said, lifting an eyebrow. "Didn't you say this was a dinner?"

He smirked as he stared at me over his spectacles. "I mentioned there will be food. You imagined it meant 'calm' and 'intimate.' That is on you."

"Robert, there are at least forty people here."

"Not a single boring one. "You are welcome."

Before I could strangle him with my hold, he vanished into the crowd, greeting everyone like a Hollywood Zeus descending from Olympus.

I groaned and looked around the room. There is no indication of Lizzie.

Okay. Take a deep breath. Keep it cool.

I approached the bar, anxious for something cold and boozy. That's where I noticed Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan leaning heavily against it, as if they were in some whiskey ad.

"Ayyy, look who rose from the dead!" Anthony grinned and pulled me in for a hug.

"You do look like a vampire queen tonight," Sebastian said, lifting his glass. "I really adore it. Brooding looks fantastic on you."

"Thanks," I mumbled, smiling. "That's what two weeks of existential dread and bad reality TV will do to you."

We clinked glasses. Whiskey scorched my throat.

They spoke, asked how I was, and teased me like elder brothers, which made me chuckle. Until Anthony's smile became hazardous.

"Alright. Dare time."

Sebastian lifted an eyebrow. "This isn't high school."

"Oh, shut up, you love this." Anthony turned to face me. "Y/N, I challenge you to dance with Bucky Barnes over here. But, really, dance. None of that nice swaying. I want hip action. Maintain eye contact. Full commitment."

Sebjust chuckled and reached for my hand. "Are you up for it?"

I arched my brow. "You wish."

But I had already placed my drink down.

The music changed, darker, slower, hotter. Low boom sends through the floor.

And yes, I agreed.

I strolled with Sebastian across Robert's marble living room, as if we were in a noir club scene. Smooth, sultry, and a touch playful. His hand rested softly on my waist as I turned, our feet perfectly coordinated. Everyone around us cheered.

It was enjoyable. Light. Silly.

And suddenly, I felt it.

That sting.

It felt like flames on the back of my neck.

I turned.

Lizzie.

Standing near the bar.

Watching me.

Her jaw tensed, and the wine glass froze in midair. Her eyes focused on me.

Shit.

I quickly stepped back from Sebastian, laughed it off, and grabbed my drink, only to be stopped.

A hand was tightly wrapped around my wrist.

Fingers are warm.

"Lizzie—"

"Outside. Now."

Her voice sounded low. Controlled. Too calm.

She almost dragged me past the crowd and into a quiet corridor beside the kitchen, far enough away from the music to hear only the pounding of my own heartbeat.

And then, boom, I was pinned.

Back against a wall.

Her hands are on either side of my waist.

I'm breathing quickly.

Eyes are black.

"Are you trying to drive me insane?" she growled, moving closer.

I opened my mouth and nothing came out. I wasn't sure what to say.

She drew a trembling breath and moved back half an inch, leaving just enough space to make the tension break like a rubber band. Her voice lowered, harsh with pain. "You avoided me for weeks, Y/N."

I swallowed, remorse setting in.

"And now?" She sneered and clenched her fists. "Now you're out there... dancing with Sebastian like it's a fucking date? Really?" Her voice broke just enough to devastate me. "So what am I, nothing to you now?"

"Lizzie, no-"

"No? Then look me in the eyes and say that."

I tried. God, I tried.

But the moment our eyes met, my heart skipped, my throat tightened, and everything inside me screamed her name.

She laughed sadly, tears threatening but not dropping. "You can't, can you?"

I didn't respond.

"I was there for you," she muttered. "Through all of it. When you shut down, left the stage early, or stopped responding to texts. I waited. I worried. And still, I believed myself you only needed time."

Her fingers stroked my arm, sensitive yet trembling. "But then I walk in tonight and you're smiling like nothing happened. With him. And I can't." She broke off, coming closer.

"I can't look at you with him," she whispered. "Every time I see you with someone else, my body just" Her breath caught. "Every part of me wants to take you away, Y/N. Take you out of this room, put you against a wall, and remind you who you belong to."

She was shaking, but not because she was weak.

Pain. Passion. Love entangled in an unbreakable knot.

"Don't you get it?" She breathed and looked at me as if I were the only thing keeping her alive. "I love you."

That shattered me.

"Liz-" I gasped out.

"I want you completely," she snapped. "I do not want a half-hearted version of you. I do not desire stray looks or hushed practice. I want the version who would whisper lines into my shoulder at midnight. The one who softened as I kissed her neck after a take. I want you. All of you."

And then, suddenly, her lips were inches from me.

Breathless. Burning.

"I can't pretend this is just acting anymore. And I won't."

I gazed at her, every muscle in my body begging to let go. To give in. To tell her I felt the same way, that she wasn't alone in this insane situation. The fear of losing her kept me up every night.

"Say something," she begged.

My chest lifted and sank as if I'd just finished a marathon. Her words were still reaching in my mind: I want you totally. My lips split, but it seemed like my heart had risen up my throat,

I didn't have to think anymore. I didn't need to second-guess or pretend that she hadn't already blasted through every wall I'd ever created.

"Then kiss me."

Her breath caught.

That is all it took.

Lizzie jumped forward in an instant, her lips crashing against mine, angry and hungry. One hand was knotted in my hair, and the other gripped my waist as if she wanted to ground herself before losing control. I slid toward her, holding to her jacket as my lips parted without hesitation.

There was nothing planned or practiced about it. It was not a scene; it was real. Every brush of her tongue, every moan against my mouth, was messy, urgent, and true. We'd waited too long for this. And suddenly everything was spilling out.

She pushed me back against the wall, her body pressed against mine, her thigh slipping between mine with a possessive ease that made my breath catch and my knees weak.

Her mouth left mine, only to trail down my jaw and down my throat, biting softly before returning to my lips as if she couldn't stay away. Her hands were everywhere—sliding beneath my dress, holding my hips, and squeezing as if she didn't care who saw.

And perhaps she didn't. Perhaps I didn't either.

But then

We heard laughter on the opposite side of the hallway. Someone is calling for Chris.

Lizzie remained still.

We were both panting, foreheads mashed together, and hearts pounding like thunder.

"I swear to God," she said, eyes still closed, "if someone ruins this again, I'll kill them."

I laughed out loud, my head tilted back against the wall. "We can't do this here."

She sighed and leaned in for one more kiss, slow this time, deep and devastating. Her hand caressed my cheek as she pulled away, her gaze softening.

"Come with me," she said, her voice lower now. "Let me take you home."

I didn't even hesitate.

When we went out of that hallway, it was like walking into a spotlight. The party's talk stopped for a short moment before resuming.

"Ohhh, look who finally came up for air!" Anthony shouted, raising his cup with a smile.

Sebastian simply let out a long whistle. "It took you long enough. I thought you two were going to fuck each other there."

Chris smiled and nudged Scarlett. "Called it. I said by the end of the night, someone would be pinned to a wall."

Scarlett just rolled her eyes and raised her glass. "Finally."

I felt blood rush to my cheeks. Lizzie and I were still holding hands, fingers interlaced, lips swollen, lipstick slightly blurred, and out of breath. The proof was written all over us.

I squeezed her hand, holding back a laugh as Tom raised his brow and murmured to Zendaya, "Do we cheer? Clap? Light fireworks?"

"Fireworks," Zendaya responded without skipping a beat. "Obviously."

Lizzie simply rolled her eyes at each of them. "Children," she mumbled under her breath, turning to me with a little smile. "Let's get out of here before they start placing bets."

And with that, we slipped out.

Initially, the car was quiet. The city lights reflected a lovely golden tint through the windows, flickering over Lizzie's face as she drove. One hand on the steering wheel and the other on my thigh.

Her thumb brushed gentle circles at first, innocent and even oblivious. But things did not stay that way.

Her hand began to move higher, slowly and carefully.

"You know," she continued casually, not looking at me, "you have the worst poker face."

I swallowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She smirked. "Every time I touched you back there, your breathing changed."

I scoffed, my cheeks flushed. "It did not."

Her fingers climbed a bit higher. "Did so."

"Maybe you were just breathing harder, Olsen."

"Oh, baby." Her voice dipped, seductive and sexy. "I understand how you breathe when I touch you. I've been studying it for several months."

I turned to the window, trying not to burn, but she leaned in at a red light, whispering in my ear, "And when you moaned my name before... even if no one heard it, I did."

Her fingertips were no longer simply teasing my thigh. They explored slowly, confidently, and possessively. Moving up with purpose.

I shifted slightly in my seat, pretending I wasn't losing my mind, but my breath betrayed mesharp and sharp.

Lizzie's smirk deepened, her gaze fixated on the road as if she wasn't driving me insane. "I love how quiet you get when I touch you like this," she said.

Her fingertips dipped just beneath the bottom edge of my dress, brushing across the naked skin on my inner thigh. Higher. Slower. She wasn't hurrying anything. It was as if she wanted to memorize every inch, torturing me with excitement.

"You didn't want to talk to me for weeks," she said quietly and quietly, "but now look at you. "Falling apart in the front seat."

"Lizzie..." I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for just a moment.

She hummed. "You gonna beg me to stop?"

I shook my head, jaw gritted. "No."

She gave a quiet, satisfied laugh. Her hand reached just high enough to make me gasp, and then she drew away entirely.

"What the hell?" I looked at her, breathless, but she had already pulled into her driveway.

She slowly parked the car and then turned to face me. Her lips twisted into that arrogant, drop-dead gorgeous smile, which she knew had wrecked me.

"Get inside," she urged, her tone suddenly stern and forceful. "We're not done."

My heart pounded. "You, are you serious?"

She released her seatbelt with a gentle click. "You have been taunting me for months. Dancing with Sebastian, avoiding me, moaning my name when no one should hear..." Her glance swept over me. "You don't get to walk away again."

I swallowed hard, my knees wobbly, as I hopped out of the car and followed her to the door.

Lizzie turned around, jealousy in her eyes, as the door closed behind us. Before I could blink, she was raising me with ease, as if she had been waiting all night, and my legs reflexively wrapped around her waist.

"Bedroom," I whispered against her neck, my voice shaking.

She grinned. "Obviously."

Her lips claimed mine again, deep and eager, as she went down the hall as if nothing else mattered but putting me on her bed. I felt the heat coming from her skin, and mine felt similar—burning and throbbing.

As soon as we reached the door, she lowered me into the soft sheets—but didn't pull away. Her body hung over mine, her hands slipping under the sleeves of my dress, and her tongue trailing down the side of my neck. She picked a location just below my jaw and bit—not hard, but enough to make me gasp and leave a growing bruise that she had carefully planned.

"That's mine," she said, her voice low and full of yearning.

Her hands grew impatient, pushing the dress over my head, leaving me in nothing but lace. She sat back to view me, her chest rising and falling, mouth parted, and eyes wide.

"You're so beautiful, baby." She leaned back down and kissed my collarbone. "You've got no idea what you do to me."

I arched into her, moaning quietly as her hand moved between my thighs, her fingertips ghosting across the damp cloth. "Lizzie..."

"I know," she whispered. "I know, sweetheart."

She stripped me naked with slow, deliberate strokes, caressing every inch of exposed skin as if I were precious. Her lips traced a route down my ribs, stomach, and hips, leaving hickeys as evidence of possession.

She took her time, putting her fingers inside me just as her lips touched my breast, nibbling and teasing till I trembled beneath her. Her name escaped my lips in a breathy gasp again and over, and she enjoyed it. Her other hand held my wrist down softly but strongly.

"I want everyone to see what's mine," she muttered against my skin before leaving another mark right over my heart. "I want them to know."

I was lost in her, every touch, every breath, every piece of her weight on mine. She did not simply touch me; she held me. It seemed as if she was connecting me to the world. Even with all that dominance, there was a lot of love behind it.

When I came, it was with her name on my tongue, her hands grounding me, her lips murmuring praise I couldn't even process.

She didn't stop there.

Afterwards, she kissed me softly, her hands stroking my face, her voice gentler than ever. "You okay, baby?"

I nodded, still trying to catch my breath. "You ruined me."

She grinned. "I plan to do it again. And again."

Lizzie was still catching her breath as I rolled on top of her, straddling her hips with a playful grin.

She looked up at me, confused. "Oh, you're not done?"

I bent down and kissed her softly, tongue brushing against hers, one hand creeping into her hair and the other trailing down her warm chest.

"Not even close," I said softly against her lips. "My turn."

Her lips curled into a wicked smile. "Then take it, baby."

I kissed down her throat.

Her skin tasted like salt and passion, like all the fire she'd poured into me, and now I was ready to return it all. My tongue reached the top of her breast, and I sucked softly before biting down just enough to make her hiss.

"Fuck, Y/N," she muttered, leaning into me. "You're getting cocky."

"You made me this way," I said, brushing my lips over her skin, lowering myself until I was kneeling between her legs.

She stared down at me, hair tangled around her pillow, lips puffy, cheeks flushed, and her eyes?

God, she looked destroyed, yet she was still so powerful. Even in surrender, she remained untouchable.

I pulled her thighs over my shoulders, kissed the inside of her knee, then the dip of her leg, and grinned as she snapped beneath me.

"You gonna be good for me?" I asked quietly.

"I'll be whatever you want," she said, her voice broken.

Lizzie's hand quickly reached the back of my head, fingers threading into my hair, as I kissed a stripe across her pussy

"Shit, Y/N. Yes. Exactly like that, baby."

I continued on, slowly at first, teasing her with the tip of my tongue, and watched her tear. Her hips rotated in quest of more, and I gave it to her flicking, sucking, and devouring her as if I were hungry. "Baby, you're really good at this," she sighed. "Fuck, you were made for me."

Her thighs gripped around my head as I murmured against her, sending vibrations through her core, causing her to cry out. She was panting now, rubbing against my mouth, and I didn't stop, not even when her moans became louder, she tugged my hair, or her back arched.

"You want to make me come, pretty girl?" she growled.

I gazed up at her, lips wet, and nodded. "Beg for it."

Lizzie's eyes brightened up. "Oh, fuck. Are you really going to make me?"

I smirked. "Yeah."

She let out a breathless laugh. "You don't realize how hot you are like this. Please, Baby. Please make me come."

That was all I needed.

I put two fingers into her, curving them perfectly while my tongue worked on her clit and the cry that exploded from her chest was filthy. Her body bucked, her feet pressed into my back, and she let out a low groan that rang throughout the room.

"Y/N. I'm, fuck, I'm coming!"

She cracked, yelling my name and writhing under me, her thighs tightening around my head like a vice. I didn't stop until she was exhausted, jerking, and gasping for air.

When I eventually crept back up her body, she looked beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest heaved, her hair tangled, and her red lips parted in the softest, sweetest grin.

She threw her arms around me and drew me into her.

I kissed her shoulder, then her neck. "You're mine."

"And you're mine," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "Every bit of you."

The first thing I noticed when I awoke was the silence.

The type of sweet, dreamy silence that only comes in the early morning. No cars, no texts, and no buzzing notifications. Just the warm weight of covers on my skin and the faint perfume of Lizzie on my pillow.

She was still sleeping next to me, her face buried in the blankets and one arm casually thrown across where I used to be. Her breathing was regular and quiet. Peaceful.

God, she was stunning like that.

I dropped a short kiss on her temple and slid out of bed as silently as possible, sliding one of her big t-shirts over my naked body. It covered my body, the sleeves almost reaching my elbows and touching the tops of my thighs like a dress. I grinned to myself, wondering why it felt so intimate to wear her clothing. I felt surrounded by her warmth even when she was sleeping.

Padding barefoot into the kitchen, I decided to be a nice girlfriend and prepare her breakfast. A small "thank you for last night" gesture. (And possibly: "I'm head over heels for you and can't stop thinking about how you kissed me like I was your whole world." )

When I added the eggs, the pan hissed, and I began looking around for coffee. It was busy but comfortable, me in her shirt, music playing gently from my phone on the counter, and dawn light streaming through the curtains.

Then I felt it: the familiar warmth.

Lizzie's chin settled on my shoulder as her arms wrapped around my waist from behind. She seemed warm and tired, her voice heavy and husky as she spoke.

"Mmm... Are you trying to kill me?"

I giggled and leaned back into her hug. "What?"

"You. In my shirt. Making breakfast. Looking like that." She nuzzled her cheek on my neck. "It is criminal. I should arrest you."

I grinned, putting down the spatula, and covered her hands with mine. "You're ridiculous."

"You love it."

"I do."

She hummed and gave me a delicate kiss just below my ear. "It smells nice. Are you attempting to tempt me into round two?"

I smirked as I glanced over my shoulder. "Would it work?"

Lizzie's eyes glittered, and sleep clung to her eyelids. "Baby, you are the reward."

We remained there for a bit, her arms wrapped around mine, our bodies swaying gently in time with the music. There is no haste, no world outside. It's just us.

"You know," she murmured softly, "this...this is everything."

I turned into her arms and wrapped mine around her neck. "What is?"

"This. Waking up with you. Seeing you in my kitchen. Wearing my clothes"

"Come back to bed," she whispered.

"But I'm cooking."

She nipped at my bottom lip. "Breakfast can wait."

And just like that, the eggs were forgotten...

#wlw #marvel #fluff #fanfic #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff #smut

173 notes · View notes

l0s3rd0wnt0wn · 1 month ago

Text

"TOP OF MY SCHOOL"

SYNOPSIS: How an archer!reader first met Green Arrow and became White Arrow.

You've always been an overachiever, but that's not your fault; most people are underachievers. If your mom ever taught you anything, it was to reach for the stars and aim for the biggest and brightest one there is, and watch it explode into tiny little stars that can inspire the next dreamer and believer. So here you are at this archery tournament; you worked so hard to reach the finals. Your fingers might hate you, but that trophy will be in the manor, shining brighter than all the trophies and medals collected by the rest of the family. It's big, golden, and stunning. You don't care about the prize money—pfft, you're rich. You care about outshining all the Waynes, especially your father. Bruce's awards would look like baby medals compared to yours, and he'll notice you; he'll notice his baby and all the hard work they've done. The damage to your fingers is temporary, but the win is forever; the win is for life.

So there you are, hitting bullseye after bullseye, smirking like never before, perfect position, back straight, eyes forward. Who would you be if you didn't win? You wouldn't deserve the name Wayne if you didn't win; you wouldn't deserve to show your face outside of the manor gates. Ha, you would even say your name. Final game, and you're up next. Oh, you were gonna knock the judges off their feet, and you're gonna play them for fools when this is all said and done. So remember your stance: feet apart, back straight, head forward, elbows straight, bowstring near eye level. You could feel the tip of your fingers slipping with the toughness of the string for the bow, but you won't let it bother you; smile through the pain.

You look up at the stands; you see your judges and the people in the stands. You see Alfred and your school friends, but the seat you left for him is empty. You've been telling him about that tournament for days on end; you didn't shut up about this. You made him write it on his schedule board and his computer, yet he still isn't here. Rage is seeping through you. Bruce, you promised! He went to Damian's soccer game—the one he LOST—went to Jason's spelling bee, and Steph's track meets, but this is the most important moment of your life, and he isn't here. You wouldn't stop talking about it at the table, even when you knew no one was listening. This was your dream; this was your life goal, and he dropped it for what—a stupid ballet recital from Cass?

You're staring up at the stands, that empty chair you left for him. You felt the arrow slip through your fingers, and a loud "WISSH" went past you. Turning back fast, you saw that you hit orange, throwing you off your win streak of only hitting bullseyes. But it's okay, as long as the other kids don't outdo you when it's their turn. But they did; that slip-up was their chance. Every single time the arrow points red, you feel like they are aiming at you, shooting down your pride, your ambition, your hard work—everything you did to get here. You felt each arrow piercing through your very being, leaving you bloody. Your fingers clenched; you could feel the trickle of blood coming from your bandages. You knew you were going to lose when the game was set and match, and you were on the podium.

The judges were handing out the awards, and you closed your eyes, hoping that someway, somehow, you won. You had your hand open for something, but then felt another thing wrapped around your neck. It was a medal—a medal. Maybe it was gold, and the real trophy was coming out. But when you opened your eyes, you saw a silver medal wrapped around your neck. Silver, not gold. Silver. You felt red-hot tears prickle down your face. You wanted gold. You had the best shots each round; you missed just one—just one. You didn't deserve this; you didn't. But if you looked over your shoulder, you could see the kid who won—the tears of happiness that flowed down their face, holding the trophy way up high. That was supposed to be you. You were supposed to be the one highest on the podium. You meant to take this trophy to Bruce, show him what you could do, show that you were worth the time and trouble, and for one moment, he could see you as one of his own. He could see you as his. But no, you let your emotions get the better of you, and you lost.

You saw Alfred and your buddies running over to you, and you wanted to cry even more. You didn't deserve the hugs or their love because you didn't win. You didn't win. Running off the podium, grabbing your bag, you heard them calling you, but you don't stop. Your feet are moving on their own, gasping for air, and you finally stopped running. You're in the middle of Gotham City's streets, and you finally break down crying. How will you win his love? How will you win his affection if you can't win a stupid archery match? Then hell, the Justice League—and you saw him right there, the great archer himself, down on his luck. He was beaten down and bruised just like you; his bow was nowhere to be seen, and you heard so many swooshing sounds that your ears could bleed. Half the Justice League is in Gotham, including Batman. You ran over to him, not running over to Batman—he can handle himself.

"Mr. Arrow, are you okay?" You heard a groan through the sound of buildings crashing down and people screaming and running away. You shouldn't be here on the ground; he shouldn't be here on ground level. But you couldn’t leave him. What kind of fan would you be if your favorite superhero died right in front of you? You have to find his bow. Shit, where is his bow? You're running around like crazy. Still, you saw the green bow. The earth shakes, making you look up; it was some kind of brick monster and he was gonna crush you. You rolled over, grabbing the bow and finding an arrow. You tried to run over to Green Arrow, but the floor was breaking underneath you, and you couldn't reach him. Falling on your back, you had to stop it somehow. If you didn't, Green Arrow is dead and gone.

You have to win. You have to save him. Putting the bow up to your face, back straight, eyes forward, elbow straight, bow near eye level—through a small hole in the beast's chest. If you could hit it, the fool is done for. But what if you lose? What if you don't win? What if this silver medal around your neck proves that you're a loser? You put your arm down just for a moment, but you heard the groan of Green Arrow. If he can lose, so can you. But if he can win every other day, you felt the toughness of his bowstring; it cut your fingertips, making you bleed. The pain makes you want to cry. You stained the bow with blood—your blood. It's gonna be his life on your hand if you don't shoot. Aim, shoot, aim, win, win, win, your brain screamed at you.

Letting the arrow fly, it hit the core, making the monster crumble. You finally won; thank God! You fell to your knees, looking down—blood coating the green bow red. You felt a hand on your shoulder; it was his. "Nice shot, kid!" That gruff voice—his voice. You're a winner, not a loser like the first time and the time before.

369 notes · View notes

clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 months ago

Note

Could you do a Sebastian Solace x Reader (gender neutral is fine) where he is led to believe the reader has permanently died? Somehow he receives this information. At this point, him and reader don't have to have an established relationship, but they definitely have a bond and affection for each other. Then, the reader comes into the vent the following day like always, and there's a happy ending? Angsty until then though please 🙏 Thank you so much

"What do you mean they aren't back yet?!"

"......."

"I lent them a token 'cause that was an unfair end to their run. They would've used it by now."

"I'll admit that the Harbinger's...unexpected arrival was most unusual. No one at Urbanshade knows where it comes from nor why it chose to show itself to the expendable."

"[Y/n]."

"Pardon?"

"It's...[y/n].." Sebastian's shoulders slumped as he looked to the enigmatic green man who decided to show up inside his shop, confused by his sudden presence. "And why are you here now? We agreed to only meet when--"

"You seem awfully attached to them, Solace. And that's not good for us." Mr. Lopee frowned slightly. "You're giving them special treatment, putting a name to their face. Don't you want to get out of here?"

"...of course I do! I'm not "attached" to anybody." The fishman muttered, although his nervous tapping against the crates betrayed his insistence. "They've just given me the most dirt on Urbanshade, and I'd hate to lose their business.."

"Well, unfortunately...they have not returned from the Banlands. I don't believe they ever will. I'd consider their soul to be lost in the ocean for eternity."

In an instant, he felt his heart sink into the pits of his stomach, trying to process the words he just heard. "What do you mean "lost"?? She can't find them?!"

"Death has grown weary of her duties." Mr. Lopee answered grimly. "That is all I know. I have no way to contact her, but this may be a sign that she's tired of resurrecting Urbanshade personnel. Those tokens have lost their meaning."

"No..no, no, no. That's stupid!" Sebastian snapped. "She can't just "decide" to stop now!! That wasn't a fair death!"

"Nothing is fair down here, my friend. You of all people should understand that. Now continue your work. Don't let yourself become distracted over one insignificant loss."

"....I won't, "boss"." The fishman sneered rudely, watching him disappear into a cloud of green and black smoke.

But the second he was gone, Sebastian dropped his snarky front, trying his best to stay calm despite the grim news he was told.

There was a way that an expendable can die...permanently?

Did the Harbinger have something to do with that? Or was the ferry lady simply uncaring and decided she was done reviving people?

He knew that she was going to be replaced within the next year or two, so maybe she thought it was all pointless now.

Either way, he'd never know.

And he'd likely never know what really happened to you. He only had to trust Mr. Lopee's words...and begrudgingly so.

""Distracted", my ass. They have to come back eventually. They...they made a promise.." His shoulders sagged as he glanced at the vent again, only for his ear fins to perk up at the sounds of thumping.

"[Y/n]? Hah. I knew he was messing with......me...."

Much to his disappointment, it was just another Wall Dweller infected with the rotten coral who decided to sneak into his shop. And with one swift motion, he dispatched it with his shotgun, watching its head explode into clay and gore as the remains flopped to the ground.

"Ugh..disgusting.." He grumbled, not happy that he had to pick apart the creature piece by piece, wishing he didn't have to touch the alien plant. But all of it was still edible, even for expendables who couldn't even touch the bloxy cola left behind after the lockdown.

You always joked about how it's the only way you could get "greens" in your diet-

'Shit..why am I thinking about them again?'

Sebastian's hands shook a little as he set the pieces on the table, wishing he could tear these stupid feelings out of his chest, wondering why he ever allowed himself to get so close to you in the first place.

He never should have opened up. Not to you. Not to anyone.

There were more important things at stake.

He shouldn't be mourning over you. What good would that do? Mr. Lopee had a point. Maybe he was getting distracted--losing sight of his goal and the burning hatred he had for Urbanshade.

He had to get out. He shouldn't care about some weak little expendable.

And yet...he couldn't stop thinking about how badly he wanted to escape with you, and maybe even..get to know you a lot better without having to pretend to be business partners. He wouldn't have to pretend to despise you and find you annoying.

Now he couldn't even find out your exact status in the Banlands. But from what Mr. Lopee implied...your soul was forever trapped at the bottom of that dark ocean, surrounded by thousands more.

By thousands of haunted faces and screams he himself once heard when the ferryman scooped him out of the water.

It drove him insane for the remainder of the day, and despite trying to fight his exhaustion by organizing his wares and assets...sleep managed to find him for once.

Yet his dreams were anything but pleasant.

He was forced to witness the horrific scenario of that fabled Harbinger descend upon you, tearing into the locker you were hiding in whilst he was unable to do anything but scream for it to stop tormenting you.

His pleas fell on deaf ears, and he watched the demonic entity paint the entire room red with your blood.

...........

"Huh..that's weird."

Arriving to the 50th room, you were surprised that the vent grate didn't pop open like normal. You knew for sure Sebastian was there, given the spotlights shining directly towards the entrance to his shop.

So you opened it as quietly as you could--just in case he was sleeping. The last thing you ever wanted to do was startle the sleep-deprived traumatized fishman because of some noise.

He'd rarely doze off, and funny enough it only happened whenever you were in the shop, too, indicating he'd grown to trust you deeply.

You've come a long way in your friendship, although judging by the numerous discounts he's given you, the lack of landmines and ADS devices scattered around, his scoldings becoming less harsh and insulting, and his increasing worry for your safety the further you got into the blacksite....you wondered if he felt something more.

Like..attachment, almost.

But of course, you didn't want to assume anything.

Surely, you're just a means to an end for him. All he cares about are the documents you bring him and nothing more. He's only slightly more concerned for you because you bring him the most valuable stuff and barter with him better than other expendables.

However, as soon as you emerged from the other side of the vent and dusted off your pants, you could see Sebastian was almost...writhing in his sleep, his claws leaving deep marks in the crates as he whimpered, his tail flicking violently.

You had to duck as it suddenly swung over your head, but when you heard him utter your name, you froze with surprise.

Was he...dreaming about you?

You would've been flattered, if not for the realization that he was probably having a nightmare instead. So you quietly went over to him, wondering how you can wake him up and explain your....absence.

You couldn't return to the living world for some time after the Harbinger killed you, and surely...he's gonna realize that and get pissed off at you "wasting" another ferry token.

You just pray he believes you.

"Seb? Wake up." Stepping onto his desk was a risk, but it was one worth taking as it allowed you to get close to him so you could shake his shoulder. It took him some time to get used to your touch, and thankfully he's more comfortable with it now.

Suddenly, he gasped as his eyes snapped open, his upper body sitting up with such a start. You damn near fell off the table, but managed to keep your balance as you stared up at him.

He saw you, and only your uniform, and got angry.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!! GET OUT-!!!"

"Sebastian it's me!! It's me!!" You shouted, your voice rising a few octaves as you held your hands up.

He huffed and puffed, beads of sweat dotting his hairline as he looked down and slowly began to recognize your face.

And then the realization hit him.

You were here. Alive. Breathing.

You were back as if nothing had happened.

"[Y/n]?" He shuddered. "Shit..sorry. H-How are you...? I'm not seeing a ghost, am I?"

"I'm not. And know you're mad, so let me explain.." You sighed, putting your hands down. "I tried coming back, but the portal was busted, so I got...stuck on the other side for a while. The ferry lady was nice enough to show me how to repair it, though she didn't say much else. She seemed to appreciate me expressing my condolences for her husband, and....."

You trailed off as Sebastian put a hand on your shoulder, and at first you were worried he was going to throttle you for making him wait this long...

Only for him to pull you into a quick embrace, lifting you off your feet. "Ah..I'm sorry, Seb." You hugged him back, feeling guilty. "I guess I've been away too long, huh?"

"..it's been an entire day."

"Really?" Your heart sunk as he let you go, setting you back on the floor. "God, I...I had no idea. You must have been freaking out."

"Only...a little bit.." He muttered, managing to calm himself down as he brushed his bangs to the side. "Someone has...led me to believe that you died permanently. But they were wrong, so it doesn't matter anymore."

You were quiet for a moment, debating on whether or not to question who told him that, but you didn't wanna stress him out over the details, considering how shaken-up he got.

"Yeah, I guess it doesn't." You shrugged, deciding to look at the wares Sebastian had available.

Unfortunately, you lost all the assets you collected this time, although there wasn't anything of utter importance that you needed right now. But after grabbing the keycard to leave....he blocked the vent with his tail. "Seb?"

"Why don't you stay here a while? Hm?" He coughed, trying to hide his nervousness.

"Why? In case the big bad Harbinger gets me?" You chuckled, only to fall silent as he didn't laugh at all. "Alright, bad joke. I'll stick around for a bit."

Judging from how his shoulders instantly relaxed the moment you said that, you realized he did care more for your safety than other expendables. He didn't want you running back out into danger so quickly, especially as he knew that if you were to revive again, the ferryman...won't really like that.

It was kinda sweet seeing him act so clingy with just you, even when he didn't wanna outright admit it.

#the four point five update finally gave me inspiration for this hehe #enjoy the angst <3 #clanask #anonymous #roblox x reader #roblox pressure x reader #pressure x reader #sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #angst #hurt/comfort

298 notes · View notes

radioactiverats · 4 months ago

Text

Mentor Starscream x seeker!reader (2/?)

Continuing to mash up all the timelines. In my mind, this version of Starscream and Megatron are like in the immediate aftermath of TF One, where Starscream is clearly the older and more experienced one but everyone witnesses Megatron's transformation into a very warped and corrupted version of himself as he comes to terms with his newfound power, then asserting his dominance through violence. At the same time, we've somehow timeskipped to fighting the autobots on earth. These are just a bunch of very messy and self-indulgent thoughts, but I am recently exploding with this idea about Starscream and need to get all of them out bit by bit sksksk. Thank you all for reading and for the encouragement!!

@dratchetsimp this is for you!!

It's painful to watch the pressure mount on Starscream by the day as Megatron's anger grows. Once upon a time, you might have agreed with him - you, like many others, felt betrayed by Sentinel and wanted to see Cybertron rebuilt. But over time, Megatron loses himself to the insanity of plotting and revenge. You'd heard that he'd gone by D-16, once. You wonder what that bot was like, before shaking your helm to remind yourself that no matter who he was, D-16 was gone and there was no use lingering over such thoughts.

Starscream barely recharges - you used recharge stiff and upright in the barracks amongst the other low-ranking decepticons - but Starscream had somehow pulled a few strings to allow you to share his habsuite. He doesn't divulge the details, deliberately evasive - but you've managed to piece together the gist of it.

"It's admirable how loyal your pet is, Starscream," Megatron sneered. "Impressive given that I cannot expect the same from you."

Starscream had taken all of it - the insults, the humiliation, with clenched servos and wings trembling with rage. But in the end, it had been worth it, because Megatron finally dismissed him with a lazy wave of his servos with permission to do whatever he wished with you.

As bots in the barracks milled around, preparing for recharge, you hadn't realised that the chatter around you had petered off into unsettled silence until Starscream barked your designation, curt and commanding.

"With me," he commanded, and abruptly stalked out of the barracks before even waiting to see if you would follow (of course you would).

The whispers of the others fell on deaf audials as you hurried out of the barracks to chase after Starscream - you fall into step behind him as he leads you to some part of the base that you've never seen before. You pass door after door, and it soon dawns on you that these are the officers' habsuites.

"Sir...?"

Starscream doesn't deign to answer you, instead coming to an abrupt stop in front of one of the rooms. The suspicion as to where he was taking you had taken hold, but you had scarcely dared to believe it. Yet, the door to Starscream's habsuite whooshes open, leaving you with the inability to deny your suspicions any longer.

"You are to recharge here, now," Starscream says curtly. "Do not return to the barracks unless ordered. Is that clear?"

You can only nod, shocked by the turn of events. Your old sleeping arrangements hadn't been that dire. That is, if you didn't count the filth, the sounds of snoring, fighting, fragging - and bolting awake from your nightmares only to have some other bot yell at you to keep it down. Okay. Maybe it wasn't great. But did he really care that much?

As your processor works to digest your newfound situation, Starscream promptly flings himself down onto the berth. "Well?" he says, with an irritable growl. "Are your pedes rooted to the ground, or are you going to recharge?"

You're startled back into motion, tentatively approaching the berth before clumsily attempting to maneuver yourself into a position where you won't touch Starscream. It's awkward, to say the least, lying next to your commanding officer like this. To make matters worse, Starscream's habsuite runs cold - and you are becoming increasingly aware of your smaller frame's inability to conserve heat. Starscream must have picked up on the small tremors of your frame (he'd been lying awake the whole time to carefully gauge your responses), because all of a sudden, your commander's handsome faceplate is right in front of yours, and you squeal as you find yourself yanked closer to him, right up against his chassis.

"Pathetic," Starscream snarls, even as he's carefully tucking you against him. "How are you going to fend for yourself when you can't even fend against the cold?" Against your better judgement, you snuggle closer, gratefully taking in the much-needed warmth of his frame. Even if his words are harsh, the gentle way he cradles you against him betrays his true intentions.

"Recharge," he orders, and you, like the good soldier you are, promptly obey.

Which is why, after settling into a routine in his habsuite, you are very aware of just how little Starscream recharges. He's always at his desk, viciously muttering something or other over a towering stack of datapads. His frame is tense, as well - plates drawn tight around him defensively, wings constantly hitched up with the amount of stress he's under. You've tried to persuade him to recharge, but he simply snarls and waves you away. The most that he will accept is the energon you bring him. These days, it's a challenge to find any empty space on his desk to set the cubes down.

After Starscream successfully locates an energon mine, you are hopeful, perhaps naively so, that Megatron will finally give him a break. You finally understand the grim look on Starscream's faceplate right before he went to report to Megatron about his findings. The warlord is pleased, but not necessarily at the idea of your species' continued survival - rather, the discovery of abundant energon had swelled his confidence in plans to launch an offensive against the Autobots. You glance at your commanding officer, standing at attention on the bridge - his posture appears relaxed and confident, but you as a seeker know what tells to look for - his twitching wings say it all.

Starscream is exhausted, even if he stubbornly refuses to admit it. His systems are on high alert and constantly fire off at the tiniest things - he'd nearly taken your helm off with his null ray when you came to deliver him a cube of energon. His wide optics meet your terrified faceplate before he quickly disables his weapon, optics offlining as he sags back in his chair.

"Frag it," Starscream mutters, rubbing his faceplate with rough servos. "That slagging, good-for-nothing spawn of a glitch. We're in no shape to fight."

It's true - demoralization was at an all-time high. Bots were exhausted and running on fumes from the prolonged lack of energon, and would need time to recover. However, you're more worried about Starscream - inevitably, he's going to play a major role in the attack. While you don't doubt his strength, sheer willpower could only get any bot so far - and you've been worried about him keeling over on the spot for a while.

Leading up to the attack, you gaze at your commander as he stands on the precipice of a rocky cliff overlooking the Autobots' regular area of patrol. He looks so alone, and you cannot bear it as soon as you watch his servos curl into a fists, the only show of emotion he will allow himself. You know he's forcing himself to stay upright, if only to hide the defeated slump of his shoulders because as he said - the Decepticons are in no condition to fight, and you only need glance back at the rest of the straggling troops to see that he's correct.

He glances at you as you quietly step forwards to stand beside him. His faceplate is expressionless, but his servos relax as your optics meet for a few nanokliks. "With me," he says quietly, only for your audials. Then, he's looking forwards again, resolute, as the Autobots rev into view below you and Megatron roars the command to attack.

The battle was a disaster. Under Orion Pax's - no, Optimus Prime's - leadership, the Autobots had spent time refueling and familiarizing themselves with their new surroundings, giving them the upper hand in both physical combat and strategy. It wasn't long before Megatron was bellowing at you to retreat, and Knockout soon found himself with his hands full and a line of the injured spilling out of his medbay and winding down the corridors in a cacophony of pained groans.

You'd escaped relatively unscathed, with no injuries that required immediate attention, and were thankful to see that Starscream was the same. However, he only seemed to grow more tense as you both landed back at base. "Go to my habsuite," Starscream orders. He's so tense that his frame is close to vibrating. "Do not come out until I return."

Before you can ask him what's happening, he's stalking off in the direction of the bridge, and... oh.

You're once more struck by the sheer feeling of helplessness as you watch him go. You couldn't even get him to recharge properly, take better care of himself when he took such good care of you, considering the circumstances - and now, even though the battle had left you both relatively unscathed, it seemed that you'd counted your blessings too early. You knew you had no hope of protecting Starscream against what Megatron was about to do, and you hated it.

Back in Starscream's habsuite, you'd dragged the med kit out and waited anxiously, wearing circles into the floor with your pacing. You hoped it wouldn't be too bad. After all, the failure had not been Starscream's fault and he'd just located an energon mine. Surely...?

By now, you really should have learned not to get your hopes up. It's a few cycles before a loud bang shudders unexpectedly through the room, as if something - or somebot, had fallen against the door. You shoot up, frantically slapping at the door unlock button, and Starscream all but collapses into his habsuite in a bloodied heap.

"Oh, Primus," you breathe, horrified, and launch yourself forwards to drag him into the room.

Even just by touching him, your servos are sticky with energon, and you bite back a sob as you fumble with the latches of the med kit. You have no idea where to start and are the least qualified bot here to do this, but you know that if you tried to drag Starscream to the medbay in front of lines and lines of Decepticon soldiers, he would regain consciousness just to tear you apart himself.

His optics are offlined, and the only thing keeping you from breaking down is the subtle rise and fall of his chassis. You reign yourself in best as you can, and try to remember what you've been taught in the one stellar cycle you were at the Academy. Okay. Initial assessment: jagged rips in his plating, torn wires... it looked bad, but these were all injuries you could deal with as accidents during training had been inevitable - and you thank Primus that the integrity of his wings had been spared, with rips in the plating like the rest of his frame but no torn wires there.

You snatch a cloth and the welder out of the med kit with shaky servos, swiping haphazardly at the energon on Starscream's chassis. A screeching buzz fills the air as you get to work on the biggest tear that you can see. He can get Knockout to buff them out later, because as ugly as your handiwork might be, right now you're only concerned with getting the energon to stop because there's just so much.

You're almost done with the biggest rip when Starscream's systems suddenly hiss back to life, and his optics cycle before blearily landing on you. After a moment, they slide to the screeching welder in your shaky servo, taking in his battered frame, the pool of energon below you both before offlining his optics again and lying back with a groan. You continue with your work, and Starscream doesn't interrupt you, allowing you to turn his arms this way and that as you re-join wires and solder his plates to the best of your ability. At some point, he'd regained enough strength to quietly watch you work, voicing no complaint about the quality of your rough patch job nor flinching or making any sound of pain.

Eventually, the only thing left to patch is his wings. Your vocalizer resets with a click before you can speak. "Sir," you mumble. "Your, uh, your wings need repair as well."

To seekers, wings are sacred, treated as the most intimate parts of one's frame. To be honest, you weren't sure if Starscream would let you touch his wings, and you were really going out on a limb to ask. However, you couldn't sit idly by and not even attempt to fix the jagged rips that marred his beautiful wings. To your shock, Starscream soundlessly heaves himself upright and turns around to bare his wings to you. You must have taken a few nanokliks too long, because Starscream shifts impatiently. "Turbofox got your glossa?" he rasps, and even if his voice sounds weaker than usual, you could cry with relief to hear him again.

You kneel delicately behind him, servo hovering over his left wing before you finally dare to lightly brush your fingers over the smooth plating. Starscream's wings twitch ever so slightly and he ex-vents sharply, but otherwise makes no motion to get away. Wings are especially sensitive and while he betrayed no pain when you were welding the other parts of his frame, you almost felt bad for having to touch the welder to his wings, despite the necessity. The welder screeches again, and Starscream visibly shudders when it touches the edge of the first rip. His servos are close to digging dents into the floor by the time you get to the second one, and he's ex-venting raggedly. "Last one," you murmur, wanting desperately to offer some comfort.

Starscream nods wordlessly and braces himself again, shoulders tense as the screech of the welder fills the air. The last rip has torn into his aileron and he can't hold back a ragged gasp as you work the welder over the tender area. You hate feeling him jerk and twitch beneath your servos in barely-suppressed agony. But finally, after what feels like forever, you click the welder off and plunge the room back into silence, save for Starscream's rough ex-vents. You are reluctant to move away from him so quickly, especially when he's in this condition, so you quietly stay where you are, gently brushing your servo over the broad, unmarred sections of his wings in silent comfort.

He could have easily pushed you away, but you're relieved that he doesn't, allowing you to continue touching him as he collects himself. It's a few kliks before he makes to get up, scowling in disgust as he takes in his energon caked frame and the rapidly drying puddle on the floor. You busy yourself with tidying the med kit, purposely looking away as Starscream takes a nanoklik to steady himself.

He's no doubt due for a visit to the washracks, and looking down at your own frame, you're no better. If anything, you're eager to cleanse yourself of Starscream's energon - the memory of his crumpled frame on the floor flashes through your processor, and you accept with quiet resignation that this will feature in your nightmares at some point.

"Cadet."

You look up, and Starscream is watching you with an unreadable expression on his faceplate.

"You performed well."

With wide optics, you nod jerkily at him from where you're still kneeling on the floor. You swear you caught the corner of his intake twitch upwards before he whirled round and stalked off again, clearly in dire need of a wash.

Rising to your pedes with a wince, you shake out the numbness of compressed wires in your legs. However, your spark thrums with the dizzying satisfaction of having been able to help, and the lightheaded thrill of receiving praise from Starscream.

Previous / Next

#transformers #maccadam #starscream #transformers x reader #starscream x reader #tf starscream #Cadet AU

210 notes · View notes

rowie264 · 4 months ago

Text

Jinx x jinxer!reader. First kiss

Warnings: mention of stalking, mention of possessive behaviour, fluff

After your first encounter with Jinx, you began to see her more often. Somehow, she always knew where to find you and where you lived, appearing out of nowhere. You wondered if she was stalking you, but you tried not to dwell on that thought for the sake of your peace of mind.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't like spending time with her. Jinx turned out to be completely different from what you used to think. Of course, it's true that she was dangerous and crazy, but you also found out how funny and passionate she was. It was really interesting to hear her explain how her bombs and other devices work, even though you barely understood the details.

She was an artist too, just like you. Her style was different, but no less fascinating. Sometimes you even painted something together on the walls of Zaun.

You couldn't deny your growing affection for her. Even considered her... a friend.

A few weeks later, you also began to notice that her behavior toward you was changing.

She was touchy from the very beginning – had no idea about personal space at all – but over time she became bolder and clingier. It was startling you at first but at some point you’ve got used to it, enjoying random touches and tight hugs as much as Jinx did.

But seems like for her it wasn’t enough.

She was becoming demanding and possessive. Often asked you to spend more time with her instead of Jinxers. Sometimes you caught her saying something she shouldn't have known (this is when you stopped ignoring whole stalking thing you had guesses about). Sometimes she would sneak into your bed to sleep beside you. Sometimes you have noticed that your belongings disappear for several days, but appear in the same place as if nothing had happened.

You knew you should be afraid and disgusted… but you didn’t. That's when you realized that you fell in love with her.

One day you came to Jinx's lair and saw that she was doing something at the workplace. You walked over and put your arms around her waist from behind. “A new project?” You ask, looking at the blueprints.

Jinx stiffens for a second before relaxing and leaning back against you. “Yep! A bomb that turns into smaller bombs jumping around before exploding!” She chirps with infectious enthusiasm.

“And the purpose? Besides fun I mean.” One of your hands starts slowly caressing her stomach, continuing to speak in as casual tone as possible. Today you wanted to push the boundaries even further. Do something that friends don't do and make sure that you were right in your assumptions.

“Ya know… bigger radius. Harder to dodge all of them too.” She tries to look unperturbed, but her breathing gets a little heavier, and you feel hard muscles tense under your fingers.

“Try to be careful with them, will you? Don’t throw it close to yourself.” You murmur brushing thumb against blue cloud on her side. Lately, you've been fantasizing about getting tattoos like the ones Jinx used to doodle on your arm. Those pink clouds were temporary, but you crave something more permanent - the real deal.

"I'm not that crazy. Besides, I haven't even built it yet." She snorts, but suddenly clenches her jaw when you nuzzle her temple, making her almost tremble with pleasure. She can't help but lean a little closer to you. Your tenderness makes her dizzy.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to do it. You are a genius.” You whisper into her ear and leave small kiss on the shell before pulling back.

The sight before your eyes makes your heart stop beating for a second. Jinx, the Loose Cannon, most wanted criminal in Piltover and simply craziest person you’ve ever met… had the most adorable blush in whole world. Her eyes were wide, lips slightly parted and it looked like she had squeezed the pen so hard that it broke.

“Are you alright?” You ask in soft voice taking her hand to inspect it for any signs of harm. Your concern dissipates upon finding her skin unscathed. Before she can say anything, you lift her hand to your lips and plant a kiss on her palm, looking directly into her eyes as you do.

Her mouth opens and closes, blush on her cheeks deepens. You caught her completely off guard.

“Aren’t you adorable?” you murmur out loud, slowly spinning her chair and leaning closer to her till your lips are mere inches apart. You can feel the warmth of her breath on your face. Her eyes flicker to your lips and back up. She is so cute, it’s maddening.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask her and wait patiently for permission. She looks at you, as if not sure this is real. After few moments she swallows lump in her throat and nods her head slowly, biting bottom lip. “P-please…”

Only then you close remained distance and finally kiss her, moving your lips against hers in slow and tender manner. Jinx tried her best to kiss back, but her inexperience shows. She’s a little clumsy, her movements uncertain, too shaky from nervousness and overwhelmed emotions.

As the kiss goes on Jinx relaxes more and more and wraps her arms around your neck, pressing her body closer against yours, as she gives in to new sensations.

The kiss slowly grows more urgent, and her hand clutches at your shirt. She’s starting to get a little lightheaded, letting out a small moan when you lean forward, pushing her slightly against the workbench.

You take this opportunity to slip your tongue into her mouth, causing her to whimper. She tries to mimic your movements swirling her own tongue around yours in passionate dance, making you want to deepen the kiss… but you stop yourself and pull back.

While you were both catching your breath, you could see her mouth slightly open as she stared at you with wide eyes, her cheeks flushed, and her breathing quickened. She looked absolutely adorable like this.

“Enough for the first time.” You murmur with fond but playful smile. She immediately pouts, which makes you chuckle and scoop her into your warm embrace.

#arcane #jinx #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx x fem!reader #jinx x y/n #jinx x you #arcane x reader

302 notes · View notes

spaceycat · 2 months ago

Note

okay but imagine young tony or steve knowing your college schedule and planning his whole schedule around it which means he plans his whole life around it (bonus if he’s not dating you yet)

just an idea lol, take ur time and do it if you wanna :))

AHHHHHHHH UESNUES YESY EYEES, COLLEGE!STEVE LET ME AT HIM!! i might make this a two parter ??? maybe the second one will be smut, but the first one will be them getting together LET ME KNOW IF YALL WANT THAT!!!!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

༄.° ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ... ╰┈➤ 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝟷/𝟸 🧸ྀི

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: i love you the way you are by bobby vinton (2:54)

✰ pairing: college!steve rogers x college!fem!reader

✰ cw: fluff, swearing, kissing, lowkey stalker-ish if you squint, love confessions, characters getting together but not actually stated, steve is a dork

✰ word count: 2.1k+ (lord)

✰ summary: steve notices you in his politics class, he starts to develop a crush on you and he then asks a mutual friend for your schedule - purposely posing himself outside your classrooms so he could make conversation and sitting next to you during politics.

✰ a/n: THEEHHEEHEHHEHEH, there's kinda alot of dialogue but YUHH!! COLOURING MAKES ME WANT TO EXPLODE, SOME OF THE COLOURING IS WEIRD - I BLAME TUMBLR

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

༺colour chart༻ reader ❀ steve ☀︎ sam ✈︎

Steve first saw you in his Politics class, he thought you were cute - but nothing really developed from it. That's when your professor paired the two of you up for a project, he then noticed the small things about you - how your pens were chewed, how you sniflled every so often, how you always did your hair in a different way everytime he saw you. Suddenly, a feeling of affection developed into a crush.

And now, you were sitting in his dorm - he kicked out his roommate as soon as he heard word that you were going to come over for the politics project. He wasn't really focused on the project, not even in the slightest - he just looked at you, his eyes big and wide filled with awe and appreciation that somehow you managed to be the one that was paired up with him.

The two of you were sitting on the floor of his dorm, a few stray pieces of clothes or pieces of paper scattered across the floor. Steve tried to clean up, he really did - but there is only so much you can do in 5 minutes.

He occasionally shifted his eyes down to the notebook infront of him, pretending to atleast do some work - his page was filled with scribbles of some notes, some doodles and now his pen was just absentmindedly scribbling across the page as he continued to keep up this facade.

You were on your computer infront of him, humming to yourself as you scrolled through presentation templates - he was mainly just looking at you know, his notebook discarded on his lap. He took note of your hair, which was down - some strands falling across your face that you had to tuck back behind your ear periodically. He wanted to do that, tuck your hair behind your ear and tell you how pretty you were and kiss you all over and--

Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, I mean you two have solely talked over the presentation - nothing more, nothing least and yet he was nothing short of obsessed.

"We should play some music." Your voice broke him out of his thoughts, he then realised that you were looking straight at him - probably knowing that he's been staring at you for an unhealthy amount of time. "Hm?--" "Music, we should play some." "It's just.. awkward silence, and I want to know what kind of music you're into, Rogers." "Would you believe me if I said hard-core rap?" You stared at him for a moment, squinting your eyes as to figure out if he was serious or not - you'd giggle. "No-- not in a million years."

You put on some music on your computer, it was quiet - just so you could still hear eachother. "Thanks for letting me come over on such a short notice." "Yeah, yeah-- of course."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The next day, Steve didn't see you - you guys didn't have Politics with each other, so he didn't even see you in the hallway, no awkward eye contact, no overcompensating conversations. He missed it, he missed talking to you and making you laugh.

That's when he saw his room-mate Sam walking down the hallway, he knew that you and Sam were close friends, closer than you and Steve ever were.

"Sam--" "Hey, Steve." Sam continued to walk, Steve caught up with him. "Uh-- you know that one girl, that I was talking about who's in my Politics class?" "Mhm.." "You're friends with her, aren't you?" "Steve, what's this about." "Nothing-- nothing, I just wanted to know what classes she's in." "You better not be trying to get into her pants, Rogers." "No-- no, god no. I just- want to see her more." "Sure." "I'm serious--" Steve stood infront of Sam, stopping him in his tracks. Sam sighed, "Alright fine-- just.. don't be weird about it- okay? I'll talk to her." "God-- thank you, thank you, thank you--" "You owe me, okay?"

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Later, Steve was in his dorm - scrolling through social media on his phone, when Sam walked in setting down his things. Steve looked up at him expectingly, that's when Sam sighed; pulling out a printed out copy of your college classes schedule.

"This is some weird stalker shit yknow--""Dude, shut up." "You must be crazy for this girl if you're literally forcing me to get her schedule.""I didn't force you-- you said you would." "It's still fucking weird, Steve."

His eyes skimmed over the piece of paper, noting that you had night literature class the next day - but that means that he would need to stay on campus hours after his classes just to remotely see you, but that's something he was willing to do.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The next day, Steve was at the college - his classes have been over for hours now. He was waiting outside your Literature class, ensure how to pose himself. Should he like pretend to accidentally walk into you and be like "Oh, sorry-- I didn't I see you there." No-- no, that's weird. He opted to be pretending to be on his phone, looking busy. That's when people started filtering out of the class. Then he saw you - posing up against the wall.

"Steve?--" "Hm? Oh.. hey." "I thought your classes were over." "Uh-- no, no. Still here." "Well I was about to head to that café up the road.. do you wanna join me?" "Yeah.. I could eat." I could eat? God, his mouth speaks faster than his mind thinks sometimes, but even then he followed you like a lost puppy out of the english building at your college.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The two of you filed into the cafe, it was late at night at this point - the moon replacing the sun and stars filling the sky. You sat down a booth. Steve ordered a coffee and one of the sandwiches on display while you ordered just a latte, already having eaten.

Awkward silence covered the two of you, your fingers drumming against the table while Steve ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the stubborn strays.

A waiteress came over, placing down the food and hot drinks - you muttered a thanks as she walked back the way she came. You took a sip of your drink - looking up at Steve hesitantly. This all suddenly felt real.

"What were you doing before I came out of class?" "Oh, y'know-- studying and stuff." "Mhm.." You smiled a bit, taking another sip of coffee - you didnt believe a word Steve had just said but you thought it was charming. "What? You don't believe me?" "Is this another add-on to the hard core rap thing?" "Very funny." He'd cross his arms, tilting his head at you. "What were you actually doing." He let out a sigh, thinking it was better to come clean. "Waiting for you.." "Waiting for hours on end for me?" Steve just shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. "How'd you know where I was anyways?" "Hm?" He looked up at you, he definitely heard what you said - but as he asked again he silently hoped that the question you asked would miraculously change once he questioned you. "How'd you know where my literature class was.." "..I dont know-- Sam must've told me or something." "Oh shit, I forgot Sam was your roommate." You said with a chuckle taking a sip of your coffee. "Yeah.." "Wait, Sam told me yesterday that he needed my schedule like desperately.. was that you who needed it?" "Well-- well I wouldnt say I needed it like bad or anything--" "It actually was you?" "Well, yeah.. it was.""Why?" "I needed it so see when you were free for the project." "Bullshit--" "What?--" He chuckled, not seeming to get anything past you. "You're a pathological liar, Stevie." He smiled at the nickname, looking down at his coffee - biting his tongue between his teeth as he nodded. "Alright you caught me.." "Oh really?" "I just wanted to know when I could take you on a date." You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms. "Smooth." Steve fiddled with the coffee mug, his attention solely focused on you - his gaze almost nervous. "What do you say?" "Walk me back to my dorm and I'll think about it." "..Alright." He stood up, paying for the food - practically ushering you out of the door.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

As the two of you walked across the campus, Steve noted how cold it was getting as December rolled near. His hands were shoved in his jacket pockets as he walked slowly beside you - watching as you looked up at the stars of the night sky. The two of you soon neared your dorm building, Steve dragged his hand out of his pocket, grabbing your hand before you could walk inside - his touch gentle and soft.

"You didnt expect me to just forget about the whole date thing did you?" "What, did it seem like I did?" "You're awfully silent, sweetheart.." The nickname just rolled of his tongue, spur of the moment. He watched as you moved closer to him, almost seeking warmth from in from the cold surroundings.

Steve then saw a snowflake fall down into your done-up hair, he then looked up and around - snow started to fall around the two of you. The whiteness coating the trees and the pavement, snow perching itself on each other's hair, shoes and shoulders.

Steve didn't even notice how your attention didn't divert away from him, your eyes still on his face as he looked around the environment. You then pulled him back to reality, back to you by grabbing his chin with your fore-finger and your thumb and tilting it back to face you. The two of you just stared into each other's eyes as you dragged your thumb across his soft bottom lip as you leaned up to place a kiss to his lips - a short and sweet one.

You'd move back down to the soles of your feet, looking up at him. "Was that dumb?--" He didn't even give a response, capturing you in another much needed kiss - filled with love and adoration. It's everything he's ever wanted all in one, your lips still tasting faintly of coffee and the lip balm you were wearing. A hand slipped to cup your face, feeling the soft skin beneath his fingers that his wanted to touch and feel for the longest time. You didn't shy away, you didn't pull back, you kissed him back like you were waiting for this moment as much as he was.

As you both pulled back from the kiss, he noticed a single strand of hair that fell across your face - he then tucked it behind your ear, smiling widely down at you. Adoring the snowflakes adorning your hair and eyelashes as you looked at him with big wide eyes.

"I'd like that date.." "Yeah?" "Yeah.." "Cool." "Cool?-- that's all you're going to say?" You said with a giggle, as a sheepish smile adorned his face. "You're a dork, Steve." You then pulled him back into another short kiss, gripping onto his jacket.

You soon parted ways, as you entered your dorms he just stood there, grinning like an idiot - looking down at the snowy ground. His hands resumed their place in his jacket pockets as he walked back to his dorm building that was on the other side of the campus - but he was willing to make that walk everyday if it means seeing you.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

As Steve walked into his dorm, he took off his jacket and placed his keys near the door. That dorky smile still plastered on his face. Sam noticed almost immediately. "What's got you smiling?" "Nothing, it's nothing." Steve walked over to his bed, sitting down. "Did stalking really get you somewhere?" Steve smiled at him, before nodding - Sam's jaw dropped. "What?!--" "Okay so-- we went out to some cafe, we talked and then we walked back to campus and it started snowing and then we kissed." "Man, what the fuck-- why do you get a romance movie scenario for being a weirdo." Sam leaned back against the wall near his bed, crossing his arms. Steve just shrugged, looking down to the floor.

He was excited for that date, and just to see you again - see you smile, see you laugh because of him. And then he realised that his part of the politics project was due tomorrow and he barely made a dent in it because of him swooning over you, he couldn't have it all.

But he has you, and that's all he really cares about.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers marvel #marvel steve rogers #marvel fluff #marvel x reader #marvel #avengers #avengers x reader #marvel au #steve rogers au #college au #x reader #fluff #spaceycat #part 1 of 2

141 notes · View notes

vercxs · 5 months ago

Text

♰ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 ( dabi )

suggestive. female!reader. dabi is a yandere. stockholm syndrome applied. usages of quirk to leave marks.

dabi's tongue glided over the skin of your neck, the muscle oddly hot against you as you threw your head back in the pleasure of his work. a hand slapped over your mouth to muffle any sound to escape from the tip of your lips, including the choked sobs that gathered at the corner of your glassy eyes.

obviously, you weren't supposed to be enjoying this, considering the fact that this man had you locked up in a dimly lit room, only visiting whenever he felt boredom tugging at his skin and wanted some entertainment with you. last time he checked, it was your ovulation week, the perfect time for him to execute a performance to entertain himself. fortunately, he was right about your body, and the way it was reacting to his lips sucking and biting your neck.

dabi's hands exploded every curve of your clothed body, not having any intention to uncloth them yet. that was how cruel of a man he is, teasing your aching body which wanted some form of attention. you can't help but tangle your fingers in his snowy hair, pulling at them the moment dabi's hands moved to rub your wet but clothed vagina. this man is driving you crazy, and he knows that. he knows that you're enjoying it, yet suffering with the tease.

his hands continued to gently rub you, your toes curling at the friction as you let out pathetic whines mixed together with moans. dabi's free hand rubbed his thumb over the fresh hickeys he just painted with his teeth. blue flames emit just slightly on his thumb as he swiped his thumb over your skin, colouring your the skin of your neck a new bruise.

you winced in pain, feeling the burn that was drawn on you from his thumb. dabi let out a mocking chuckle before he shuts your mouth with his lips— kissing you. somehow, his lips are hot, as if they're burning. and you were convinced that he made sure to heat himself up before his little show with teasing you. his lips burns against yours, his tongue fueling a fire in your mouth as his tongue explored every corner.

deciding that he didn't want to swallow any of your messy moans anymore, the man slid his fingers under your waistband to find your clit, rubbing tantalising circles around your bundle of nerves. "so fucking wet for me," dabi whispers into your ears before giving your ears a quick nibble, his fingers trailing down your soaked folds to separate them. with a sigh, two fingers pushed their way into you, earning a gasp along with an arch. they moved slowly, before the pace quickened. all while dabi's thumbs presses on your clit.

in nothing but pure ecstasy, you could not differentiate the feeling of pleasure and the feeling of the bruising burn. dabi made sure to always maintain a heat that's pleasurable for you yet will leave a mark on you. it's just like his kisses that burns. oh, the artist is going to have so much fun with painting his sweet beautiful canvas in burns.

#♰ vercxs'#dabi #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #dabi smut #touya todoroki #touya todoroki x reader #touya smut #mha #my hero academia #mha smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut

168 notes · View notes

natsaffection · 8 months ago

Text

Wait and Hope. Pt 2 | N.R

Warnings: gun shots, blood, gore 'traumatized' children, just angst

Word Count: 9,8k

A/n: Okay, it's a lot..The Request you can find here.

The first few weeks after Lila, Jacob, and Mia moved in were an emotional whirlwind. Mia adapted quickly, her boundless energy and cheerful nature filling the house with light. She often clung to you and Natasha, seeking your warmth and affection, while Jacob remained quieter, but slowly began to open up. But Lila..Lila was different. You and Natasha had expected some challenges. Lila was, after all, fifteen and had been through more than any teenager should. But as the days turned into weeks, it became clear that Lila's walls were still firmly in place, and she wasn't ready to tear them down anytime soon.

Natasha, who had taken on the role of disciplinarian, had set clear boundaries from the start. She was strict but fair, and the kids quickly learned that pushing those boundaries or talking back wouldn't get them very far. Lila start to respect Natasha, yet there was still a certain distance, an unspoken agreement that Natasha wouldn't push too hard as long as Lila didn't push back. But you..you were also different. You were the heart of the family, always warm, always understanding, always trying to reach Lila with kindness and patience. And that's where the problems began. Lila wasn't ready for that kind of affection, not from someone she still saw as a stranger, and her rejection often manifested in anger. It had been a long day, filled with the usual ups and downs of settling into a new routine.

Natasha had just returned from work and found you in the kitchen, preparing dinner. The tension in the air was palpable, and Natasha could sense that something was wrong. "What happened?" Natasha asked gently, stepping beside you and placing a hand on your back. You sighed, your shoulders sagging slightly. "Lila and I had another argument.." you admitted, your voice tinged with frustration and sadness. "She shut me out again, and when I tried to talk to her about it, she just..exploded." Natasha frowned, her protective instincts kicking in. "What did she say?"

You hesitated, clearly reluctant to relive the exchange. "She told me to stop pretending I care, that I'm not her real mother, and that I don't understand anything she's been through." you said quietly, your voice cracking slightly. Natasha's heart ached for you, knowing how hard you had been trying to connect with Lila. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "I'm sorry, Detka.." Natasha murmured, her voice filled with empathy. "Lila's hurting, and she's taking it out on you because she doesn't know how else to cope."

"I know." you whispered as you leaned into Natasha's embrace. "But it's so hard, Nat. I just want her to see that we love her and that we're here for her. But no matter what I do, it feels like I can't get through to her." Natasha tightened her embrace, her heart breaking for the woman she loved. "You're doing everything right." she said gently. "It's just going to take time. Lila's been through a lot, and she's scared. She's not used to people being kind to her without expecting something in return."

You nodded as you tried to hold back your tears. "I'm so proud that the kids are bonding with you, especially since you were the one who was most worried about it. But..I can't help feeling like I'm failing somehow." Natasha pulled back slightly, cupping your face in her hands and looking into your eyes with unwavering love. "You're not failing." she said firmly. "You're the heart of this family, Y/n. The kids are struggling right now, but they will open up. And when they do, it will be because you never stopped believing in them."

You sniffled, a small, sad smile tugging at your lips. "I hope so." you whispered. "I really hope so." At that moment, you both heard a door slam upstairs, followed by the sound of quick, stomping footsteps in the hallway. Natasha sighed, knowing that Lila was in one of her moods again. She pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. "I'll go talk to her." Natasha said gently. "You can finish up here, okay?" You nodded, grateful for Natasha's support. "Thank you." you whispered. Natasha gave you a reassuring smile before heading upstairs. She found Lila in her room, sitting on her bed with her arms crossed, her expression set in a defiant scowl. “Hey..” Natasha said, her voice calm but firm. “We need to talk.” Lila looked up, her eyes flashing with anger. “What?” she snapped. “What now?”

Natasha wasn’t fazed by Lila’s hostility. “You need to stop taking your anger out on Y/n.” she said, her tone measured. “I know you’re going through a lot, and I know you’re hurting, but she is trying to help you. She doesn’t deserve to be treated like this.” Lila’s expression faltered for a moment, a fleeting look of guilt crossing her face before it hardened again. “I didn’t ask for her help.” Lila muttered, her voice full of bitterness. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“I know.” Natasha responded, her voice softening. “But this is your reality now. We are your family, and we’re here for you, whether you like it or not. Y/n cares about you, and she’s trying so hard to make this work. You need to meet her halfway.” Lila looked away, her jaw clenched tightly. “I don’t need a new family.” she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

Natasha sighed, feeling the weight of Lila’s pain. “Maybe not.” she said quietly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you have one now. And part of that family is Y/n. She’s not trying to replace anyone in your life, she just wants to be there for you.” Lila didn’t respond, but Natasha could see the inner conflict in her eyes. She was struggling, torn between her fear of being hurt again and her deep, unspoken desire for closeness.

“I’m not asking you to change overnight.” Natasha continued, her voice gentle. “But I’m asking you to try. Give her a chance. She’s not going away, and neither am I.” Lila’s shoulders slumped slightly, the fight gradually leaving her. She said nothing, but Natasha knew the message had been received. It would take time, but Natasha was willing to wait, to keep pushing until Lila was ready to let them in.

“Okay.” Natasha said softly as she slowly moved toward the door. “Take some time to cool off. We’ll talk later.” She left Lila’s room, her heart heavy from the weight of the conversation. She knew this wasn’t the end of the struggle, but she hoped it was a step in the right direction.

When Natasha returned to the kitchen, you were setting the table for dinner, your expression a mixture of sadness and determination. Natasha walked up to you, wrapped her arms around your waist, and rested her chin on your shoulder. “How did it go?” you asked quietly as you leaned into Natasha’s embrace. “It went as well as it could.” Natasha replied, her voice filled with quiet confidence. “She’s still hurting, but I think she’s starting to understand that we’re not going to give up.”

You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment. “I just wish I knew how to help her.” you murmured. “You’re already helping her.” Natasha said gently. “Just by being here, by being patient, by showing her love even when she pushes you away. It’s not easy, but you’re doing exactly what she needs.”

You nodded, your heart still heavy, but you felt a renewed sense of determination rising within you. “I’m not going to give up..” you whispered. “I won’t give up on any of them.” Natasha smiled, kissed your cheek. “And neither will I.” she said softly. “We’re in this together, Y/n. We’ll make it through, one day at a time.”

Months passed and Mia had quickly settled in, her cheerful nature and boundless energy bringing a light into the house that you and Natasha greatly appreciated. Jacob, though quieter, had also begun to open up and was gradually finding his place in the family. Since you allowed him to buy his own things, you both stumbled over piles of books every day,. But Lila? She was still struggling. The walls she had built around herself remained firmly in place, and despite all of your and Natasha’s efforts, she seemed determined to keep you both at a distance. It was a constant source of tension in the house, especially between Lila and you, as you bore the brunt of Lila’s anger and frustration.

One evening, Natasha was in the kitchen preparing dinner, while you were just on your way to join her. Mia was sitting at the table, doodling on a piece of paper, and Jacob was nearby, quietly reading a book. The atmosphere was calm, a peaceful routine that you had worked hard to establish. As Natasha stirred a pot on the stove, she heard Mia’s small, sweet voice call out, “Mommy, can you help me with this?”

Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, her hand pausing mid-motion. She turned to see Mia holding up her pencil with a confused expression, waiting for Natasha to come over. It took Natasha a moment to process what she had just heard. Mommy..Mia had called her mommy! The word hit Natasha like a wave, the weight of it filling her chest with a mix of emotions she wasn’t prepared for. She had been so focused on making sure the kids felt safe and loved that she hadn’t expected this moment hadn’t expected one of the children to call her by that name.

“Mommy?” Mia repeated, looking up at Natasha with wide, innocent eyes. Natasha blinked, quickly collecting herself and forcing a smile. “Of course, sweetheart..” she said, trying to keep her voice steady as she walked over to the table. She crouched down next to Mia and helped her with the drawing, but her mind was spinning, her heart filled with a mixture of joy and vulnerability.

You noticed the change in Natasha’s demeanor, how her eyes were a little brighter than usual, and you knew what had happened. You reached out, placing a comforting hand on Natasha’s arm and giving her an encouraging smile. Both of you had been waiting for this moment, and now that it had come, it was as overwhelming as it was beautiful. But the quiet joy of the moment didn’t last long. As Natasha returned to the stove, she heard the front door slam shut. Her heart sank, knowing that could only mean one thing. Lila was home.

You sighed, your expression growing more serious as you stood up. “Let me handle this.” you said quietly, knowing it would likely lead to another confrontation. Natasha looked at you sympathetically. “Do you want me to come with you?” she offered, knowing how difficult these moments were for you.

But you shook your head, determination in your eyes. “No, I need to do this.” you said gently. “She needs to know that I’m not going anywhere, no matter how much she tries to push me away.” Natasha nodded, watching you with a mix of admiration and concern as you left the kitchen and headed upstairs. She could hear the music blasting from Lila’s room, a clear sign that she was trying to shut out the world.

You knocked on Lila’s door and waited for a response that didn’t come. You took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped inside. Lila was sitting on her bed, earbuds in, her face set in a grim expression as she stared at her phone. She didn’t even look up as you entered. “Lila.” you began, your voice calm but firm. Lila didn’t react, her fingers angrily tapping on her phone as if to drown out your voice. You moved closer and gently placed a hand on Lila’s shoulder to get her attention.

“Lila, please.” you said, your voice softening. “Can we just talk?” In that moment, Lila exploded. She ripped the earbuds out of her ears and turned to you, her eyes blazing with anger. “leave me alone!” she snapped. “Stop pretending you care because we both know it’s not true!” You recoiled slightly, the words hitting you like a physical blow. But you didn’t back down. You had heard this before, you had felt the sting of Lila’s rejection countless times. But you weren’t going to give up, not now, not ever.

“That’s not true.” you said, your voice trembling but determined. “I care about you. We both do. And I’m not pretending. I want you to feel safe here, to know that this is your home.” Lila scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest in a defensive posture. “Home? This isn’t my h-home. It’s just another place I’m stuck until you decide you don’t want me anymore..!” Your heart broke at Lila’s words, at the deep-seated pain and mistrust they revealed. You knew Lila had been through so much, that she had every reason to doubt the stability of her situation. But that didn’t make the words any less painful.

“That’s not going to happen.” you said, your voice filled with quiet resolve. “We’re not going to give up on you. No matter how hard it gets, no matter how much you try to push us away, we’re here. And we’re staying.” Lila’s eyes flashed with anger, her voice rising in frustration. “Why? Why do you even care? I’m just a burden to you, right? You’ve already got Jacob and Mia, so why do you even need me?” Lila finished, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.

Your eyes filled with tears, but you fought to keep them from falling, refusing to show Lila just how much her words hurt. “Because you’re part of our family!” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “You, Jacob, and Mia, you’re all part of our family, and that means we love you, no matter what.” For a moment, Lila seemed to waver, her anger flickering as she looked into your eyes. But the years of pain and disappointment were too deep, too ingrained. She shook her head, her expression hardening again. “I don’t need your love..” she muttered, turning away from you. “Just leave me alone..please..”

You stood there for a long moment, your heart heavy with the weight of the conversation. You wanted so badly to reach Lila, to break through the walls she had built around herself. But you knew that it wouldn’t happen overnight. It would take time..time, patience, and a love that wouldn’t give up, no matter how much she resisted. Finally, you sighed and took a step back. “Alright.” you said quietly. “I’ll give you some space. But I want you to know that I’m here, whenever you’re ready.”

You turned and left the room, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you made your way back downstairs, you felt the tears you had been holding back begin to fall. You quickly wiped them away, not wanting to break down in front of the children. When you returned to the kitchen, Natasha was waiting for you, her expression full of concern.

Without a word, she pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close as the emotions of the day finally overwhelmed you. “You’re exactly what she needs, you know? She just doesn’t realize it yet. But she will, Y/n. I promise you, she will.” You clung to Natasha, finding strength in the quiet presence of your partner. Despite the challenges, despite the heartache, it was undeniably comforting to know that you weren’t facing this alone. You had each other, and that was enough to keep you going.

As the evening progressed, you both tried to push the tension aside and focus on the positive moments. Dinner passed quietly as Mia and Jacob chatted softly about their day at school. Mia, as always, was full of energy, telling stories about her friends and her new favorite game, while Jacob listened more than he spoke, but with a calmness that reassured you and Natasha that he was finding his way.

Lila, however, remained in her room, the door closed, shutting herself off from the world. Your heart ached every time you glanced down the hallway, wishing you could somehow reach through that door and pull Lila into the warmth of the family. But you knew it wasn’t that simple. Lila needed time, and more importantly, she needed to feel that she could come to you on her own terms.

After dinner, you and Natasha took the younger kids to bed. Mia was eager for her bedtime story, snuggling up to you with her favorite stuffed bear. As you read, her eyes slowly drifted shut, the words of the story lulling her into a peaceful sleep. Natasha tucked Jacob into bed, sitting with him for a few minutes as he quietly told her about a book he was reading. She listened attentively, offering encouragement and gentle advice, her heart swelling with pride as he began to open up more, sharing his thoughts and feelings in small but meaningful ways.

When the children were finally asleep, you and Natasha found yourselves alone in the living room, the house quiet except for the occasional creak of the floorboards or the distant hum of the refrigerator. You sat together on the couch, the weight of the day heavy on your shoulders. Natasha wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. “You’re helping them more than you realize.” she murmured. “Just by being here, by being patient. They been through so much, and they had to protect themselves for so long. And Lila maybe doesn’t know how to let people in, but she will. She’s starting to see that we’re not going anywhere.”

You nodded, though the doubt still lingered in your heart. “I just wish I could do more.” you said quietly. “You’re doing everything you can.” Natasha reassured you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And that’s enough. We’ll keep being there for her, for all of them. And one day, Lila will realize that she’s not alone anymore.” You closed your eyes and let yourself relax in Natasha’s embrace. “Thank you.” you whispered, your voice full of gratitude. “For being so strong, for holding us all together.”

Natasha smiled, her heart swelling with love for you. “We hold each other together.” she said gently. “We’re a team, Y/n. And nothing will change that.” As you sat there, wrapped up in each other, the weight of the day began to lift. The challenges you were facing were real, and there would be more difficult days ahead, but there was also hope..hope that your love and determination would be enough to carry you through.

5 months had passed since the Kids had come into your lives, and while some things had improved, others remained heartbreakingly stagnant. Jacob and Lila had gradually opened up to Natasha, and over time, both had begun to call her “Mom.” She had never imagined herself in this role, but now that she heard those words, everything felt so much more real. But you still found yourself on the outside. Mia had also completely bonded with you, with the same boundless affection she always showed. But Jacob and Lila had yet to overcome that final hurdle. They hadn’t opened up to you in the same way they had with Natasha, and every time they called her “Mom” without including you, it chipped away at your heart a little more.

You tried not to let it show, tried to stay strong and hopeful. You knew that these things took time, and you didn’t want to rush them. But as the days turned into weeks, the constant reminder of your position on the sidelines began to wear you down. In this fragile time, you received an unexpected call from Nick. You and Natasha had all but retired from active duty, focusing on raising your new family. You had only agreed to take on missions when absolutely necessary, when no one else could do the job. But this mission was one of those cases. Fury’s voice was firm, almost apologetic, as he explained the situation.

“I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.” Fury said over the secure line. “But this mission requires your particular set of skills. We need both of you.” You and Natasha exchanged a look, both feeling the weight of the request. You had built a new life, a stable life for your children, and the thought of leaving them, even temporarily, felt like tearing apart the foundation you had worked so hard to build.

“We have a family now, Nick.” Natasha said, her voice strained with frustration. “You know that. We can’t just drop everything and go on a mission.”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t critical, Natasha.” Fury responded, his tone serious. “I know this is hard, but you’re the best we have for this job. If there were another way, I’d take it.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, the pressure of the situation bearing down on you. You had always known that this was a possibility, that your previous lives as Avengers could come back at any time. But now, with your family still so fragile, it felt like the worst possible timing. “How long?” you asked, your voice tense with emotion.

“Two days.” Fury replied. “We’ll have everything you need at the Compound. The kids will be safe and well taken care of.”

After a tense moment of silence, Natasha finally spoke. "We need to talk to the kids about this." she said, her voice resigned. "But we’ll do it." You looked at Natasha, the silent communication between you carrying the weight of your decision. You didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to leave your children, especially not when things were still so uncertain. But you also understood your responsibility, the trust Fury had placed in you, and the greater good you had always fought for.

That evening, the family gathered around the dinner table, the usual chatter quieter than normal. The weight of the day hung in the air, and even Mia seemed to sense that something was different. You cleared your throat and exchanged a glance with Natasha before speaking. "Kids, we need to talk to you about something important."

Mia’s eyes lit up with curiosity, while Jacob and Lila looked up from their plates, their expressions more guarded. "We got a call today from work." Natasha continued, her voice calm but tinged with a slight hesitancy. "There are some things we need to take care of." Mia’s excitement was immediate. "Are we coming too?" she asked, her voice filled with childlike wonder.

Natasha smiled gently and shook her head. "Not quite. You will come to work with us, yes. But we have to do the rest ourselves. You’ll stay there while we’re away, and we’ll be back as soon as we can." Jacob’s face brightened at the mention of the Avengers Compound. "Will we see the Avengers? The compound?!"

Natasha nodded, her heart aching at the thought of leaving them behind. "Yes," she said. "and we’ll make sure you’re safe and well taken care of while we’re gone." But Lila’s reaction was immediate and hostile. Her fork clattered against the plate as she dropped it, and her expression hardened. "So you’re just going to leave us there?" she snapped, her voice filled with anger and fear. "What if you don’t come back? What if this is just another way to get rid of us?"

Your heart sank at Lila’s words, the familiar sting of her mistrust cutting deep. "Lila, that’s not true." you said gently, trying to keep your voice steady. "This is just for the mission. We will come back, I promise you." But Lila wasn’t having it. She pushed her chair back and stood up, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and betrayal. "That’s what you say now, but how do I know it’s true? You’re just like everyone else! Making promises you can’t keep."

Natasha reached out to Lila, her voice firm but gentle. "Lila, listen to me. We’re not like the people you’ve known before. We’re not going to leave you. This mission is something we have to do, but it’s just for two days. We will come back." Lila’s gaze fixed on Natasha, and for a moment, there was a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. When she finally did, her voice was quiet, almost trembling. "Mum, I don’t want you to go.."

The word hit Natasha like a blow to the chest. Lila had called her that a few times before, but the way she said it now, with such raw emotion, nearly broke her heart. Natasha wanted to hold her, to promise her that everything would be okay, but she knew it wasn’t that simple. You, standing beside Natasha, felt a sharp pang of pain. Lila had called Natasha "Mum" with such sincerity, and yet there was still a distance between her and you, a barrier that hadn’t been broken.

"We’ll come back, Lila." Natasha repeated, her voice firm but filled with emotion. "I promise you, we will come back." But Lila’s anger flared up again, defensive and protective of the wounds she still carried. "Promises mean nothing!" she snapped. "You’ll leave, and then you’ll realize you don’t want us anymore, and we’ll be right back where we started!"

Jacob and Mia watched in stunned silence, the tension at the table palpable. You felt the weight of the moment pressing down on you, the overwhelming feeling that no matter what you said, it wouldn’t be enough to ease Lila’s fears. She turned and stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind her and leaving a heavy silence in her wake. You stood there, your heart breaking as you stared at the closed door. You felt Natasha’s hand on your shoulder, a silent reassurance, but it did little to ease the pain in your chest.

Mia, ever the optimist, broke the silence with her soft, hopeful voice. "You’ll come back, won’t you?" she asked, her eyes wide and innocent. You forced a smile and knelt down to hug Mia tightly. "Yes, sweetheart." you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "We’ll come back. I promise." Jacob, still sitting, looked at Natasha with a mixture of trust and uncertainty. "And you’ll be okay, right?" Natasha nodded and gently ran her fingers through his hair. "We’ll be okay." she said softly. "And we’ll come back to you. To all of you."

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere remained tense, the shadow of the upcoming mission hanging over you all. Natasha and you tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy, but the weight of the situation was impossible to ignore. Later that night, as you got ready for bed, you could no longer hold back your tears. You sat on the edge of the bed, your shoulders shaking as the emotions of the day finally overwhelmed you.

Natasha sat beside you, wrapping her arms around you, holding you close as the tears began to flow. You leaned into Natasha, your head resting on her shoulder as you let out all the pain and frustration you had been holding inside. "I don’t know what to do.." you whispered, your voice trembling. "This mission..I’m so scared that we’ll lose everything we’ve worked so hard for." Natasha tightened her embrace, her heart aching for you. She knew how much you had invested in this family, how desperately you had tried to connect with everyone, to be the mother they needed. But she also knew that some wounds took time to heal, and especially Lila’s wounds were deep.

"We’re not going to lose this." Natasha said firmly, her voice full of determination. "We’ve worked too hard, and we’re not going to let this mission take that away from us." You sniffled and wiped your eyes, trying to steady yourself. "I just wish I knew how to get through to them." you whispered. "Lila’s starting to trust you, and that’s wonderful, but I feel like.." You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. "I want to believe in us." you said quietly. "But its so hard..."

Natasha kissed your forehead, her touch tender and soothing. "You don’t have to go through this alone." she whispered. "We’re a team, remember? We’ll get through this together." You nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope in your chest. "I know." you whispered. "And I’m so grateful for you, Nat. I don’t know how I’d get through this without you."

Natasha smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You’d make it because you’re strong, stronger than you think. And we’ll make it through this, all of us, together." You sat there in silence for a while, holding each other close, finding comfort in the quiet strength of your bond. The challenges you were facing felt overwhelming, but there was a deep, unshakable love between you that kept you going.

After a while, Natasha spoke again, her voice gentle but resolute. "We need to talk to Fury before we leave." she said. "Make sure everything is set up for the kids while we’re gone. And we need to make it clear to him that this is the last time for a long time. Our family needs us here." You nodded, your resolve returning. "You’re right." you agreed. "This is the last time. We need to be here for the kids, especially now. They need to know they can rely on us."

"And they will." Natasha said, her voice firm. "We’ll do this mission, but after that, we’re done. Our family comes first." With that decision, you both felt a sense of calm settle over you. The upcoming mission still weighed heavily on you, but you now knew where your priorities lay, and you were ready to fight for what mattered most.

The next morning, you both rose early to make the final preparations. You called Fury and made it clear that this would be your last mission for the foreseeable future. Fury understood, and though his tone was brisk and professional, there was a note of respect in his voice. “We’ve got everything set up for you at the Compound.” Fury said. “And I’ll make sure the kids are well taken care of while you’re on the mission. Maria has come forward to take care of them."

With heavy hearts, you and Natasha packed your bags, the reality of leaving your children, even temporarily, weighing heavily on you. But you proceeded with a clear goal in mind, the knowledge that this step was necessary to ensure the safety and protection of the world, a world you wanted to safeguard for your children. Before you left, you gathered the children in the living room. Lila sat on the edge of the sofa, her expression wary, while Jacob and Mia sat close to their parents, their faces a mix of excitement and nervousness. Maria already waiting for them.

Natasha knelt in front of them, her voice calm and steady. “We’re leaving now.” she said, her heart aching as she looked into their eyes. “But we’ll be back soon. While we’re gone, you’ll be safe at the Compound, and you’ll have everything you need.” You reached out and gently touched Lila’s arm, your voice soft. “Lila, I know this is hard, but we will come back. We promised you, and we’re going to keep that promise.”

Lila didn’t respond immediately, her eyes focused on the floor. But when she finally looked up, there was a faint glimmer of something in her expression, something you couldn’t quite decipher. “Be careful, please.." Lila murmured, her voice barely audible.

Natasha smiled, her heart swelling with emotion. “We will.” she promised. Mia, always a bright light, hugged both Natasha and you tightly. “Don’t forget us!” she whispered earnestly. “Never.” you whispered back, your voice full of love. Jacob, who had been quiet until then, finally spoke up. “I’ll take care of them, mum.” he said seriously, his small face determined. “I’ll make sure they’re okay.” Natasha felt her heart swell with pride as she ran a hand through Jacob’s hair. “I know you will, buddy.” she said softly. “You’re so brave.”

After a final round of hugs, Natasha and you stood up, ready to go. You looked at your children, your family knowing that you were leaving behind what was most important to you. But you also knew that you would return. As you walked out the door, you glanced back one last time, your heart heavy but resolute. Lila stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, watching you with an unreadable expression. You wanted to run back, to tell her again how much you loved her, how much you would miss her, but you knew this was a moment Lila needed to process on her own.

Natasha and you got into the car, your hands finding each other as you drove away from the house. The upcoming mission was crucial, but equally important was the promise you had made to yourselves, to each other, and to your children. You would come back. And when you did, you would continue to fight for your family, no matter how difficult it became.

The mission briefing was straightforward but dangerous. A covert Hydra base had been discovered in the heart of the city, suspected of holding critical information about upcoming terrorist attacks. Natasha and you were assigned to infiltrate the base while Steve and Bruce took care of the outside world. On paper, it was simple, but both of you knew how quickly things could go wrong.

Natasha glanced over at you, her concern evident in the furrow of her brow. "We can do this. One last time." You met her gaze and forced yourself to smile confidently. "I’ve got your back, Nat. Always." Natasha shook her head, though the worry didn’t leave her eyes. "Just stay close. We go in, we go out. No unnecessary risks." You knew what she was really saying: Don’t be a hero. But that was easier said than done when it came to Natasha. You’d do anything to protect her, even if it meant putting yourself in danger.

The Quinjet landed on a rooftop a few blocks from the Hydra base. The city was always quiet, the only sounds were the distant hum of traffic and occasional gusts of wind. Natasha led the way, moving with the silent grace of a predator, and you followed closely behind her. You descended a fire escape and disappeared into the shadows as you approached the building. The Hydra base was hidden beneath an abandoned warehouse, a perfect cover in a city full of forgotten buildings. Natasha scanned the area, her sharp eyes catching the faint glow of surveillance cameras hidden in the corners. She signaled to you, and you nodded in understanding. You had to be quick and silent, any alarm would mean a swarm of armed Hydra agents descending upon you.

With her Widow’s Bite, Natasha disabled the cameras one by one, clearing a path to the entrance. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached, the weight of the mission heavy on you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that you were walking into a trap. But you pushed the thought aside and focused on the task at hand. You reached the entrance, a steel door with a biometric lock. Natasha pulled a small device from her belt, attached it to the lock, and watched as it began bypassing the security system. The seconds dragged on, each one filled with the suffocating silence of anticipation. Finally, the device beeped, and the door slid open with a soft hiss.

You slipped inside, the darkness of the corridor swallowing you whole. Natasha led the way, her senses on high alert as you navigated the labyrinthine interior of the base. The air was thick with tension, every step bringing you closer to the heart of the Hydra operation. You reached a large, dimly lit room filled with computer terminals and stacks of documents. Natasha’s eyes locked onto the central console, where a data drive was inserted. "This is it." she whispered.

Your grip on your weapon as you positioned yourself by the door. Natasha moved quickly, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she initiated the data transfer. The seconds ticked by, each one a small victory as the progress bar crept closer to completion. But just as the transfer was nearly finished, your worst fear came true. The door to the room burst open, and a group of Hydra agents stormed in with weapons raised. You reacted instinctively, firing a shot that took down the lead agent before he could pull the trigger. Chaos erupted in the room, bullets flying as the two of you fought for your lives.

"Nat, we have to fall back!" you shouted over the noise, your voice laced with desperation. But Natasha was focused, too focused, her eyes locked on the last remaining agent standing between you and the exit. She went in for the kill, but in that split second, everything went wrong. The agent, a hulking figure with a cruel grin, raised his weapon and aimed directly at Natasha. Time seemed to slow as you recognized the danger. Without thinking, you threw yourself in front of her, your body acting on pure instinct. The gun fired, the noise deafening in the enclosed space.

The sharp crack of gunfire echoed in Natasha’s ears, a sound she had heard countless times before, but never with such devastating clarity. It was as if the world had frozen, everything narrowing down to that one terrible moment as you threw yourself in front of the bullets meant for Natasha. The world around her dissolved into chaos. She barely registered what she was doing as she took down the last enemies, her body moving on autopilot, but her mind was solely focused on the woman lying in a growing pool of blood.

"Y/n!!" Natasha’s voice was a rough, tortured cry that echoed off the cold metal walls of the base. She dropped to her knees beside you, her hands trembling as they hovered over your body, unsure where to touch, where to press, where to begin mending what had been so horribly destroyed. Blood. So much blood. It stained your clothes, your skin, and Natasha’s hands as she finally pressed down on the gunshot wounds, trying to staunch the unrelenting flow. The blood was warm, sticky, seeping through Natasha’s fingers no matter how hard she pressed, and it filled her with a fear she had never known before.

"Why did you do that?!" Natasha’s voice quivered with a mix of anger and despair, her green eyes blazing as they met yours. "I told you to be careful! Why didn’t you listen to me!" Your breathing was shallow, each breath a painful struggle. Your face was pale, your eyes glassy as you looked up at Natasha, a gentle, sad smile playing on your lips. "I couldn’t… let him.." you whispered, your voice weak but resolute. "I had to protect you."

Natasha’s heart clenched painfully in her chest, a sob threatening to break free as she pressed harder on the wounds, desperately trying to stop the blood, trying to keep your life from slipping through her fingers. "You’re an idiot!" she choked out, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her cheeks, mixing with the blood on her hands. "You stupid idiot. You should have let-" She cut herself off, her throat closing up as the truth hit her like a sledgehammer. She had failed. She had failed to protect the woman she loved more than anything in this world.

Your hand, trembling and weak, reached to Natasha’s hands, "Don’t blame yourself.." you whispered, your voice barely a shadow of its former strength. "You couldn’t have known..Please, don’t blame yourself."

But Natasha couldn’t hear you, not over the deafening roar of her own guilt. She reached for her radio, her hands slick with blood as she brought the device to her lips. "I need a MedEvac now!" she called out, her voice breaking with desperation. "She’s been shot- two bullets to the chest, she’s losing too much blood!" She dropped the radio, her hands returning to your wounds, pressing down with all her might, even though she knew it wasn’t enough. She could feel your life slipping away, like sand through her fingers, and it was tearing her apart.

Your hand, weak but determined, found its way to your chest, pressing against one of the gunshot wounds. Your fingers came back bloody, and you stared at them, a strange sense of calm washing over you. "It’s..a lot.." you murmured, almost to yourself, your voice distant, as if you were already slipping away. "Don’t look." Natasha pleaded, her voice shaking as she gently took your hand and pulled it away from the wound. "Don’t look, just focus on me. Look at me, Y/n."

Your eyes flickered back to Natasha, your gaze softening as you saw the tear-streaked face of your wife. "Nat..it’s okay." you whispered, your voice growing weaker with every word. "I love you..I love our kids..Tell th-"

"Stop it." Natasha snapped, her voice hardening with a desperation that bordered on hysteria. "You’re going to tell them yourself. You’re going to be fine. We’re going to go home, and you’re going to see them. You’re going to hold them in your arms, and you’re going to be fine. Do you hear me? You’re going to be fine!" Your eyes grew heavy, the pain and exhaustion too much to fight against. But you could still hear Natasha’s voice, that beautiful, strong voice that had always made you feel safe.

Natasha had to keep you awake. She had to make you talk, keep you focused, keep you alive. "The Kids are waiting for us." Natasha began, her voice trembling but determined. "Mia..shes probably drawing on the walls, and lets Maria wipe it away.." Natasha continued, forcing a smile despite the tears streaming down her face. "She never listens when it comes to her art. And Jacob..he’s probably curled up in that old chair, reading another one of his books. He’s so thoughtful, so kind. Just like you"

Your lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile, your eyelids fluttering as you struggled to stay awake. "Lila’s probably got her headphones on, blasting that awful music she’s into these days.." Natasha said, trying to keep her voice light even as her heart shattered with every passing second. "She thinks it’s cool, even though it drives us all crazy. But she’s strong, just like you. She’ll be okay."

You managed a weak chuckle, but it quickly turned into a wince of pain. Natasha’s grip on your hand tightened, her other hand still pressing desperately against your wound. "Natasha, I’m so..proud of them.. proud of you.."

"And I’m proud of you." Natasha whispered back, her voice cracking as she leaned closer, her forehead resting gently against yours. "You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known, Y/n. You’re going to get through this. You have to." But despite her words, she could feel your life slipping away, your breaths becoming shallower, your skin growing colder. Panic clawed at her insides, a deep, primal fear that she had never felt before. "Stay with me!" she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Please, stay with me. I can’t lose you. I can’t do this without you!"

Your eyes opened one last time, meeting Natasha’s gaze with a softness that broke her heart. "I love you." you whispered, your voice so faint it was almost lost in the air. "I’m sorry..I couldn’t-"

"Please, no." she whispered, her voice choked with sobs as she held you close, her tears mixing with the blood that stained both of you. "Don’t leave me, Y/n. Please…" The world seemed to narrow down to the sound of Natasha's frantic breathing, the steady dripping of blood on the floor, and your weakening heartbeat that she felt under her trembling hands. The walls of the Hydra base seemed to close in around her, the oppressive silence only broken by the distant echoes of their previous fight.

But then, there was sudden movement, heavy footsteps echoed on the concrete floor, voices shouting commands. The door to the room flew open, and Natasha barely registered who it was until she heard Bruce's voice. "Natasha! Step aside, let me through!" Bruce's voice was firm, but there was an urgency in it that Natasha had never heard before.

Natasha didn't want to let you go, couldn't let you go but she forced herself to move just enough to allow Bruce to kneel beside you, his first-aid kit already in hand. His face was hardened with determination as he quickly examined your wounds. His eyes met Natasha's for a brief moment, filled with something she couldn't name and didn't want to name. "This doesn't look good.." Bruce muttered quietly as he pulled out an improvised bandage and pressed it firmly against the wounds to stop the blood flow. You groaned in pain, your body jerking under his hands.

"Stay with us, Y/n.." Bruce said, his voice deep and calm, though Natasha could hear the pressure beneath it. "I need you here, okay? I'll do everything I can, but you need to hold on." Steve appeared in the doorway, his faces serious and tense as he took in the situation. Steve acted quickly, his gaze hardening as he recognized the severity of your injuries. "We need to get her out of here, immediately." he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"Steve, be careful." Natasha warned, her voice laced with fear as she watched him kneel beside you. She knew what needed to be done, but the thought of you being moved, the pain it would cause you, made her stomach twist with anxiety. Bruce looked up at Steve, his face grave. "I've managed to slow the bleeding, but it's not enough. We need to get her to the Quinjet quickly, she doesn't have much time left."

Steve nodded, his jaw clenched as he carefully slipped his arms under your limp body. The moment he lifted you, your eyes shot open, and a blood-curdling scream escaped your throat, raw and filled with agony. Your hands clawed at Steve's arms, your fingers digging in as the pain shot through your body like fire.

"I know it hurts." Steve said, his voice strained as he tried to keep you calm. "But we have to move you. We have to get you to the jet." Natasha was immediately by your side, her hands reaching for yours, her voice soft and soothing as she tried to calm you. "I'm here, Malysh. I'm here. Hold on, okay? Focus on my voice. We're getting you out of here."

Your eyes were wide with pain, your breaths coming in short, gasping bursts as Steve carried you toward the exit. Natasha kept pace beside you, her heart breaking at every tortured sound that escaped your lips. "Think of the kids, Y/n." Natasha murmured, her voice trembling but determined. "Lila, Mia, and Jacob, they're waiting for us. We're going home to them. You just have to hold on a little longer."

Your grip on Natasha's hand tightened, your eyes finding hers as if drawing strength from her words. "I'm..I'm trying," you gasped, your voice barely audible, but Natasha could hear the desperation, the fear. "You're doing so well, baby.." Natasha whispered, her own voice breaking. "You're so strong. Just a little bit more, I promise. We're almost there."

The Quinjet came into view, the cargo door already open, and Bruce was shouting instructions to Sam, who was preparing the medical area for emergency treatment. Steve moved as quickly as he could, his face set in determination, while your blood soaked through his uniform. Natasha stayed close to you, her hand never leaving yours, her voice a steady stream of reassurance even as her own fear threatened to choke her. "We're almost there. Just a few more steps."

Your eyes fluttered, your strength fading fast as Steve carried you up the ramp into the jet. As soon as they were inside, Bruce was there, helping Steve to gently lay you on the medical bed. The moment your back touched the bed, you screamed again, your body convulsing with pain.

Bruce moved with controlled urgency, his hands flying over the medical equipment as the jet's engines roared to life. "We need to stabilize her." he said, more to himself than the others. He inserted an IV, pumping fluids into your body to counter the blood loss. "Her pulse is weak, Natasha, keep talking to her. Don't let her drift away."

Natasha nodded, her tears flowing freely now as she leaned over you, her lips close to your ear. "You're doing so well. I'm so proud of you. Keep your eyes on me, okay? Just look at me." Your eyes fluttered open, glassy with pain, but you managed to focus on Natasha, your lips trembling as you tried to speak. "I..love you.." you whispered, your voice so weak that Natasha had to strain to hear it.

"I love you too." Natasha whispered back, her heart breaking at the sight of your pale, bloodless face. "So much. You're going to be okay. You have to be okay." But even as she spoke, Natasha could see the life fading from your eyes, your body growing colder under her touch. And then, in a moment that would haunt Natasha forever, your eyes rolled back, and the heart monitor emitted a long, shrill beep.

"Y-Y/n?" Natasha's voice was a broken whisper, her hands shaking as she shook your lifeless body. "No, no, no..Bruce do something!" He was already moving, his face pale as he grabbed the defibrillator paddles. "We're losing her! Clear!" The shock jolted your body, but the heart monitor remained flat, its unbroken tone slicing through the air like a knife. Natasha's breath caught in her throat, her entire body filled with cold terror. "No! You can't leave me! You can't leave me!"

Bruce pressed the paddles to your chest again, his voice tight with concentration. "Clear!" Your body convulsed with the shock, but still nothing. Natasha felt something inside her break, her knees giving out as she clung to your hand, her tears falling onto your still, lifeless body. "Don't do this!" Natasha sobbed, her voice breaking. "Please..I can't lose you. I need you!"

Bruce was relentless, refusing to give up as he administered another shock. "Come on, Y/n!" he muttered through gritted teeth. "Come on." Ad then, like a miracle, there was a flicker on the monitor..a weak but present heartbeat. Natasha's breath caught, hope flooding her like a wave. Bruce immediately switched tactics, working quickly to stabilize you, his hands moving with a speed that only came from years of practice.

"She's back.." Bruce said, his voice trembling with relief but also with the realization of how fragile this life still was. "But she's not out of the woods yet. We need to get her to the MedBay immediately." The Quinjet accelerated to full speed, racing toward Avengers Compound. Natasha stayed by your side the entire time, her hand gripping yours so tightly her knuckles turned white. "You can't do this to me again, you hear me?" she whispered urgently, as tears continued to stream down her face. "Do you hear me, Y/n! You can't leave me."

Natasha held on to the faint pulse under her fingers, to the fragile heartbeat that was all that kept her world from completely shattering. The flight back to the Compound felt like an eternity, every second stretching out as Natasha watched Bruce work, her heart heavy as a stone in her chest. But she refused to let you go, refused to let you slip away again. She kept talking to you, whispering promises, clinging to the hope that somehow, someway, they would make it through this. The Quinjet landed with a jolt on the grounds of the Compound, the ramp lowering before the engines had fully powered down. Natasha didn't wait for the jet to come to a complete stop, she was on her feet immediately, running alongside the gurney where you lay, pale and motionless, as Bruce and a team of medics rushed you into the medical wing.

The blood seeping through the hastily applied bandages was a constant reminder of the bullets that had torn through your body. Natasha's hands were still stained with that blood, her mind fogged with fear and despair as she clung to the edge of the gurney, her eyes never leaving your face for a moment.

The medics burst through the doors of the medical wing, but in that moment, Natasha's breath caught. In the hallway, eyes wide with fear and horror, stood her children. Lila, Jacob, and Mia. They were supposed to be with Maria! Safe and far away from the nightmare that was unfolding. But there they were, huddled together, their faces pale with fear and confusion. They must have sensed that something was wrong, must have noticed the change in the air when the Quinjet landed.

“Mom!” called Lila, her voice cracking under the weight of fear and anger. “What happened?? Is Y/n okay??” Jacob clung Lilas arm, his face contorted with worry. “Why is there so much blood?” he asked, his voice trembling. “What happened to her?” Mia, held onto Lila's other arm, her big eyes filled with tears as she looked up at Natasha. “Why are there so many poeple?” she whispered, her voice small and full of fear. Natasha's heart broke at the sight of the Kids, standing there so vulnerable and scared. This was the last thing she wanted..that they had to see you like this, that they had to be exposed to this kind of fear. She wanted to protect them, to shield them from the harsh realities of the life she led, but there was no time to think, no time to find the right words.

The medics paused for a brief moment, a fleeting second, as they maneuvered the gurney through the door. In that instant, the Kids saw you, your ashen face, the blood-soaked bandages, the way your body lay motionless and lifeless. It was only a brief moment, but it was enough. Mia let out a small, sharp cry. She turns to Lila's to press her face into hers and Jacob's eyes widened, his grip on Lila's arm tightened until his knuckles turned white. Even Lila, who was trying so hard to be brave, took a step back, her face drained of all color.

“oh my god, what happened?!” Lila asked, her voice rising in panic. “Why does she look like that? What’s going on?” Natasha felt her throat tighten, her breath catching in her chest. She needed to be with you, needed to be by your side as the doctors fought for your life. But she couldn’t leave the kids like this, couldn’t just walk away without giving them some kind of explanation, some kind of comfort. She knelt in front of them, her hands reaching out to pull them close. “Listen to me.” she said, her voice trembling with the effort to stay calm. “Y/n..she's very badly hurt, but the doctors are going to do everything they can to help her. You need to stay with Maria now, okay? I have to be with her.”

Mia's tears spilled over, her little hands clutching at Natasha's suit. “But why did she get hurt?" Jacob was crying now too, silent tears streaming down his face as he shook his head. “I don’t want her to die, mum. I don’t want her to die..” Lila, her face pale and drawn, looked up at Natasha, her eyes a mixture of fear and anger. “She won't, will she?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Why did this even happen to her and not to you?”

The question hit Natasha like a physical blow, the guilt she had been trying to suppress rising up and choking her. How could she explain this? How could she make them understand that you had taken those bullets for them, that she had made the ultimate sacrifice because she believed they needed Natasha more? But there was no time. The medics began to move again, pushing the gurney through the doors and out of sight. Natasha’s heart twisted painfully as she looked at her children, their tear-streaked faces filled with confusion and fear.

“I promise I’ll explain everything.” Natasha whispered, her voice thick with tears. “But right now, I have to be with her. Please..please stay with Maria. I’ll come back as soon as I can.” She pulled back a little and looked directly at Lila, who was trying so hard to hold it together. “Lila.” she said, her voice firm but full of urgency, “I need you to be strong now. Your brother and sister are going to need you. I need you to take care of them while I’m with Y/n. Can you do that for me?”

Lila’s eyes widened, the weight of what Natasha was asking settling on her young shoulders. She hesitated, fear and uncertainty flashing in her eyes, but then she nodded, her jaw setting in determination. “I can do it.” she said, her voice steady despite the tears she was fighting back. “I’ll take care of them.” Natasha reached out, cupping her face with one hand, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Thank you." She whispered, her voice filled with gratitude and love. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I trust you, Lila. I need to know they’re safe with you.”

Lila nodded again, this time more decisively, and took Jacob and Mia’s hands, squeezing them reassuringly. “We’ll be okay, Mom. You go take care of Y/n.” Natasha swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.” she promised, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. “I love you all so much.” With that, she forced herself to turn away, even though every instinct screamed at her to stay with them, to hold them until the fear subsided. But she couldn’t. She had to be with you, had to be there while the doctors fought for your life. She hurried after the medics, her heart pounding in her chest as she rushed through the doors of the medical wing, leaving her children behind, their tearful eyes searing into her memory.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

366 notes · View notes