#Monica x reader

[frickingnerd]

yandere monica von ochs

pairing: monica von ochs x gn!reader

tags: devoted yandere, worship

monica is an obsessive yandere! 

to her, you are like a deity walking amongst mortals! someone that deserves all the worship and praise there is! 

monica is completely devoted to you and would obey your every command

she wants you to be happy, even if she'll suffer in return

though monica believes that even if you believe she deserves only suffering, that you simply must be right and that she isn't worthy of happiness! 

in her eyes, everything you do is good. everything is correct. you would never make a mistake! 

after all, you are flawless! 

monica lives only for you. her beloved darling. her deity. her everything

and if you would ever leave her, it would kill her…

[paucubarsisimp]

being a girl includes staying up till 3AM bc it’s already past your bedtime to read more “x readers” because you know you’re going to miss your alarm anyway.

[romanoffshouse]

No one else could've played Chandler Bing. Thank you for making us laugh and always putting a smile on our faces.

We will miss you and you will always be remembered.

Rest in peace, Matthew Perry ❤

[togrowoldinv]

Meeting the Team

Carol Danvers x Female Reader

Carol brings Monica and Kamala home to take refuge for an evening and to meet her wife. Fluff ensues

Note: I was just thinking about Carol having a secret wife and the lovely Monica and Kamala meeting her. Enjoy this one!

Carol Danvers Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You’re stirred from your sleep when you hear the sound of a ship landing near your house. You hope it’s Carol’s.

When you hear the sound of the front door unlocking, you roll out of bed and walk to greet her in the front room.

She’s in her suit but it looks a little worse for wear. Carol catches sight of you and the weight falls off her shoulders.

“Hey sweetheart,” Carol says softly, a smirk rests on her face.

You cross the room quickly and pull her into a hug. She flinches due to her own soreness but keeps hugging you anyways.

“Are you okay?” You ask her, grabbing her face in your hands.

“I’m okay,” she says.

Her eyes are determined. You realize she’s here just for a short time to regroup or gather some information.

“I missed you,” you say.

“I missed you,” Carol replies.

You lean in to kiss her but you stop short when you see two women, or rather one woman and one teenage girl, walk in the door behind her.

“Carol?” You alert her to the presence.

“It’s okay,” Carol says. “We’re- well I guess we’re a team.”

“We are so a team,” the teenage girl says.

Carol tries to hold back a smile but you see it on her face that she likes these teammates. She turns around and holds you by the waist.

“Y/n, this is Kamala and Monica,” Carol says.

“Wait, the Monica?” You ask. The woman’s eyes flash to Carol’s at your words.

“Yeah,” Carol says. “Our powers are entangled.”

“Right, okay. It’s nice to meet you both, come on in and make yourself comfortable,” you say.

They move to sit on the couch. Carol goes to the bathroom to freshen up first.

“What was your name again?” Monica asks you.

“Y/n,” you supply. “I’m Carol’s wife.”

“Oh my god,” Kamala says, mostly to herself.

“What?” You ask.

“Oh, she’s just a fan girl,” Monica explains. “She’ll be writing fanfiction later about Carol having a secret wife.”

You chuckle at the girl’s antics. You can’t blame her for loving Carol enough to want to create new versions of her.

“Carol and I got married a few years ago,” you say. “But we really haven’t been able to spend much time together. Planets need saving and all that.”

“Sounds familiar,” Monica says.

Carol enters the room and sits down next to you with a sigh. You want to ask more about her reuniting with Monica but that’s for another time when it’s just the two of you.

“Do you have powers?” Kamala asks. You realize this girl has a talent for breaking awkward silences.

“I do not,” you say. “Although, wrangling this one in should be considered a power.”

“Wow,” Carol says. “I’m offended.”

“Don’t be, baby,” you say. You kiss her cheek and she tries to hide her blush. “It’s a privilege to love you. Even when you run off to space for months at a time.”

“You could go with me if you want,” Carol shrugs.

“Nope. That’s your world up there. Not mine,” you reply. Carol only smiles. “Are you guys hungry?”

“Starving,” Kamala answers. “I mean no, we’re good.”

“Come with me,” you tell her.

You lead the girl into the kitchen and let her take her pick of food to eat. She settles on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Kamala asks you a few questions about Carol and your relationship. She seems genuinely excited with every answer she receives.

Monica and Carol are in the living room still. You don’t hear much talking, so you make Carol a sandwich and go get her.

“Babe, I made you a sandwich,” you say. “Please eat at least half. I know you haven’t been remembering to eat a lot.”

“I’m fine,” Carol says. “I get enough.”

“Go.” You leave no room for argument. She sighs and goes to the kitchen. That leaves you alone with Monica.

The woman is sitting on the couch. You know from her vantage point that she can see the framed photo of Maria that Carol keeps on the shelf.

“I’m sorry to hear about your mom,” you say, not really knowing what to say.

“Oh, thanks,” she replies.

“You know I think Carol has some more pictures around here somewhere,” you say. “Maybe next time you come by we can look for them.”

“Yeah,” Monica says noncommittally.

“Do you need anything? A drink, food, medicine?” You ask.

“Thank you. I’m okay,” Monica says.

“Are you sure? I can tell Carol is sore so I can imagine you all are,” you say.

“You can tell that about her just from looking at her?”

“From the hug. She flinched,” you explain. “She never admits she’s hurting, but I know she is. Although, I do see a part of her healing. Probably from reuniting with you. She seems happier.”

Monica nods. She knows that this has meant a lot to Carol. It means a lot to her too, but right now she’s still a bit hardened to the idea of being in her presence again.

Carol and Kamala come back into the room before you can say anything else. You help show them where to sleep and then end up back your bedroom with Carol.

She changes into some pajamas and snuggles into bed next to you. You rest your head against her shoulder.

“How long?” You ask her.

“Just until morning,” Carol replies. “I need to fix a part of my ship. And I wanted to see you.”

“How are you doing with this whole Monica thing?”

Carol takes a deep breath. She hasn’t really had time to stop and think about it.

“I’m okay I think,” she says. “I’m good. It’s amazing how she’s grown up to be so wonderful.”

“Yeah? She has powers, that’s insane.”

“I know,” Carol says. “I didn’t know that until I saw her with Fury. She’s really a great person too. I definitely couldn’t keep Kamala as safe without her.”

“What’s the deal with Kamala? She’s a kid who loves you?” You ask, a chuckle escaping from your lips.

“Apparently,” Carol sighs. “But I really don’t feel like I’m a good role model for her. Maybe she’s seeing that in the choices I’ve already had to make in front of her.”

“Hey, you always do your best. Sacrifices are necessary. You know that, baby,” you try to encourage her. “The way that girl looks at you definitely makes me know that she looks up to you.”

Carol kisses your head and rubs a hand over your back. It’s slightly warmer than normal, meaning she’s using her powers to help you relax.

“We need some sleep,” Carol says.

“We do,” you reply. “Hey, don’t let me forget to tell Kamala in the morning about how we met.”

“Oh god, she’s going to write a story about it,” Carol says. “Whatever fanfiction is.”

“It’s fantastic,” you reply.

“You know what it is?”

“Of course, babe.”

“And you’ve read it?” She asks. You nod. “About me?”

“No,” you laugh out. “I don’t need to when I have you already, my love. Although, I do need some new content.”

Carol grins mischievously. She’s sent you countless videos, pictures, and voice memos over the years. But it has been a while since she has done that for you.

“Tell you what, when this thing is over I’m coming back home for a while,” she says. “And we can spend our time doing whatever we want.”

“I’d love that,” you say. “Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight, my beautiful wife,” Carol replies.

You kiss her lips for a few minutes before you both feel the weight of sleep fall over you.

When you wake in the morning, you spend a few more hours with Carol, Kamala, and Monica. The goodbye is always hard, but you know Carol will come back to you. She always does.

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (1 - Honey! I shrunk the kids! 18+)

Summary: Wanda accidentally shrinks your kids while trying out a spell that would benefit both of you in the bedroom; Jimmy and Darcy attempt to find out more about the Hex, particularly when they discover a remarkable detail about you. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Tags: Smut, Campy Humor, Language

A/N: I've been working on this series since late August and have finally figured out what to do with it, enough to share it with you all. The story will be told in three parts: Westview (The Missing Town), Pre-Westview, and Post-Westview. This follows some events in WandaVision, but it's very canon-divergent. It's going to be different from my other works (I've never written humor before and I'm quite insecure about that), as this one is very plot-driven but at the same time, still very much Wanda x Reader (especially in parts 2 and 3). Updates will be every Wednesday. Chapters will be 2.5–3.5k words long, except for the ending chapters of each part, which are twice as long. So, without further ado… More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

-

“Honey! I shrunk the kids!” 

Wanda bursts into the basement, apron billowing out like a cape. Except, there's no draft down here; that apron shouldn't be moving like that at all. But then again, considering your wife’s claim, maybe the laws of physics are taking a day off.

You glance up from the miniature model home you’re meticulously working on, unsure if you heard her right. Did she really just say that? 

“You what?”

Wanda, flushed and a little breathless, skids to a stop in front of you. “Okay, so I was experimenting with a new spell, one that was supposed to…” She bites her lip, hesitating, her face glowing a deeper shade of red. “...it was supposed to do something else, but it backfired and... well, it’s not important right now!”

“Jesus, Wanda.”

Your poor, beautiful, occasionally clumsy wife stands there, teetering between a freak-out and a fit of giggles. 

“It was an accident! I didn't mean to!” Wanda shrieks, causing the room to tremble from her panic.

Wanda's powers have always been a wildcard. You can child-proof the entire house in a day, but that definitely doesn't cover child-proofing Wanda herself—especially not when your kids are involved. Luckily, the boys have inherited some special abilities of their own, which leaves you as the sole non-superpowered member of the household. With that in mind, you know better than to panic. Getting worked up alongside her would only escalate things, and you’re not exactly keen on being shrunk next.

“Okay…where are they now?” you ask as calmly as you can manage.

Wanda takes a deep breath and leads you to the living room. You trail her in silence, clutching at composure. It can’t be that bad, right? The distant sound of playful music trickling through the house almost makes it seem like everything’s fine. You hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that you think about it, it’s like your brain has learned to associate that kind of tune with situations that somehow always end in collective sighs of relief.

Sighs, giggles, and applause—sounds that don't belong to Wanda or the boys.

Where are they coming from?

Before your mind can completely sink into the oddities of your life here in Westview, Wanda halts in the middle of the living room. Your eyes dart around, searching for Billy and Tommy, but they’re nowhere to be seen.

“Where?”

“Right there,” Wanda points toward the coffee table, her finger trembling slightly.

You squint in the direction she’s pointing. Next to the TV remote, two tiny figures wave up at you—your sons, each about the size of your thumb.

“Oh my god, they’re tiny!” you gasp, covering your mouth with your hand. You expected them to be at least half their normal size—a size they might grow out of eventually.

“Shhhh, Y/N!” Wanda hisses, pressing her index finger to her lips. “The neighbors might hear you.”

Neighbors. Which usually means just Agnes from next door. There’s literally several meters of spaces between your houses, but somehow, she always manages to hear things she shouldn’t and pries like she’s in some perfectly timed routine.

Wanda kneels by the coffee table, her eyes soft. “I told them to stay right there until we sorted this out.”

The twins start making noises, sounding like tiny bells, though still hard to make out. You pull out a magnifying glass from your back pocket—has that been there the whole time?—making sure your sons are okay. As soon as the lenses zoom in on their faces, you're relieved to see them laughing uproariously, seemingly unbothered by their predicament.

“They seem... happy?” you say, lowering the magnifying glass.

“They think it's hilarious,” Wanda grumbles, her lips curling into a pout.

“So,” you sigh, pushing yourself to your feet. “Any ideas on how to fix this?”  You're tempted to suggest just letting it run its course, waiting for the spell to fizzle out, but you know Wanda wouldn’t go for that. She's fiercely protective of the twins, and you can't blame her—it’s all her handiwork, after all.

Then you hear it—a hiccup. Another follows, and then another, each one a little louder than the last.

Before you know it, Wanda's a sobbing mess.

You cup her face in your hands. “Hey, hey...it’s okay,” you murmur, gently brushing away a tear with your thumb.

Wanda’s breath hitches as she looks at you, her eyes brimming with worry. “What if I can’t fix it?”

“We will,” you promise, looking into her eyes.

A collective ‘awww’ rings in your ears, pulling you out of the moment. What the hell—where did that come from? You've had this creepy feeling of being watched lately, and it's only getting worse.

Wanda brings you back to focus when she nuzzles into your palm. “Oh, Y/N, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You give her a small, lopsided grin and plant a kiss on her forehead. “Good thing you’ll never have to find out.” Something passes over her eyes as soon as you say it, but it vanishes in a split-second, replaced by a moment of inspiration.

“Wait,” she bursts out, stepping away from your embrace. “I think I have an idea.”

She heads straight for the fridge, and you trail after her, holding your breath.

“I’ve been trying to reverse it, but my magic isn’t cooperating. It’s like... it’s tangled,” Wanda mutters, yanking things out of the fridge.

You scowl, arms crossed, watching her. “Tangled? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. The more I try to fix it, the worse it gets. Like it has a life of its own,” she says. she says. After a few more seconds of rummaging, Wanda finally grabs a tetra pack of chocolate milk—the twins' favorite.

“I’m hoping this will do the trick,” she says, giving the carton a shake.

You cock your head, clueless on what’s going on. “Honey, what’s going on?”

Wanda mumbles, barely glancing up as she vigorously shakes the carton. “Just doing what it says—’Shake well before serving.’”

You roll your eyes, muttering, “This woman...”. Then louder, you ask, “I mean, what’s the chocolate got to do with our tiny children?”

Wanda stops mid-shake, a look of realization dawning on her face. “Oh, right,” she slaps her forehead. “You can’t read minds. I keep forgetting,” she chuckles, setting down the carton with a sheepish grin.

There it is again—a chorus of laughter from somewhere far off. Your mouth twitches at the sound—it’s really starting to get on your nerves. You make a mental note to bring it up with Wanda later.

Wanda gathers herself, then pitches her plan. “Instead of directly casting a spell on the twins, I think it’s safer to enchant this chocolate milk.” She picks up the carton again, giving it a final shake. “The idea is to infuse the milk with a spell that will gradually restore them to their normal sizes.”

You nod, beginning to understand what she’s trying to do. “Sounds less risky than zapping them with more magic head on.”

“Exactly,” she agrees, her eyes lighting up with excitement. You’d swear she’s getting a kick out of this macabre parenting hack—kids and all. The background tune keeps playing, like a promise that the universe won’t let things turn to shit. You’re wondering if maybe Wanda hears it too.

“This way, the magic is diluted and can adjust more naturally with their systems. It’s like... sneaking the cure into their bodies,” she says, snapping her fingers, red swirls of magic emanating from them to the carton of milk.

“I'm so proud of you, baby,” you say, leaning in for a quick kiss which she happily accepts. “For finding a fix, I mean. The whole shrinking our kids thing? Still not great.”

–

“What kind of spell do you think Wanda was going for?” Darcy asks, her eyes fixed on the credits rolling across the screen before it fades to black. She’s really gotten into Wanda’s little show, a welcome distraction from the freezing depths of hell that is New Jersey in November. Though exciting things are finally happening to her, the timing couldn't be worse. 

“No clue,” Jimmy mutters, his attention glued to the laptop in front of him. It’s been two days since Quantico sent him to look into the bizarre case of a missing town—a phenomenon almost unheard of in the 21st century. Upon arriving, they discovered that the town in question, Westview, was enveloped by some sort of anomaly—or a Hex, as Darcy has started calling it, referring to the hexagonal shape of the barrier encasing the town. 

Around the same time as the discovery, S.W.O.R.D. agent Monica Rambeau was quite literally sucked into the anomaly by accident. The only breakthrough has been Darcy Lewis’ detection of the signals, providing them with a window into the mysterious shroud, even helping them identify some of the show's characters as actual residents of the town.

But overall, they're still desperately trying to piece together why this is happening and how to stop it.

Darcy peeks over at the data on Jimmy’s screen. “Find anything new?”

Jimmy sighs in frustration. “No, not really. Everything we dig up just adds more questions instead of answers.”

“Like what, for instance?”

Instead of answering directly, he slides a thick file across the table toward her. “See for yourself.”

Darcy catches the file and starts flipping through it. Murmuring, she says, “So, Google finally returned search results?” The stack of papers is downright daunting. Jimmy’s right—any mountain of information would raise more questions than answers.

“No, not Google,” Jimmy corrects her. “Stark's highly confidential database did. The woman Wanda's married to in Westview? She’s not in any public records. Turns out her records were wiped clean two years ago.”

Darcy looks up, puzzled. “Why would Stark's company have this?”

“Just read, Darcy. It’s all in there,” he says, turning his full attention back to his research.

Darcy frowns slightly and begins scanning through the pages more attentively. It takes her a few minutes to piece together the information she's reading, with her mind going in different directions and still burning with curiosity about the spell Wanda botched.

Finally, she reads aloud, somewhat incredulously, “Subject was recognized as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s youngest marksmanship prodigy prior to recruitment by Stark Industries following the dissolution of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Subsequently provided tactical support on multiple classified operations in conjunction with the Avengers initiative.”

She sets the file down thoughtfully. “Kinda reminds me a bit of Romanoff or Barton. Total badass. I hadn’t pegged Maximoff for that crowd.”

“What crowd did you have Wanda filed under?” Jimmy asks, just out of curiosity.

Darcy’s gaze drifts off, a dreamy smirk on her lips. “Honestly? I always pictured her—or anyone for that matter—swooning over someone more…mythical hammer than tactical espionage.”

Jimmy snorts to himself at Darcy's whimsical take and says, “Of course, you’d say that. Thor's everyone's type.”

“He’s yours too?”

“Yeah, why not,” Jimmy shrugs, his tone more reluctant than sarcastic, which only amuses Darcy more.

“So,” Darcy begins, “Wanda's settled down in New Jersey, married to a woman? I mean, good for her. They all deserve a break. Maybe even an early retirement.”

Jimmy lets out a long, tired sigh, like he's just about done with everything. Darcy notices and raises an eyebrow. “What now?”

He barely glances up. “Like I said, everything’s in there. Just keep reading.”

Darcy groans but goes back to the file, flipping through the pages again. She’s about to make a snarky comment when something catches her attention—something that has her eyes practically popping out of their sockets.

“It… it says here Y/N’s dead.”

“That’s right,” Jimmy responds without missing a beat.

“Not snapped five years ago. Dead-dead.”

“Yep.”

Darcy stares at the page, disbelief all over her face. “That can’t be right, can it?”

Jimmy finally swivels his chair to face her, looking as tired as he sounds. “That’s what I’ve been trying to wrap my head around for hours. If aliens and superheroes are real, maybe bringing someone back from the dead to star in a sitcom isn’t so far-fetched, right?”

–

You carefully pull the blankets up over Billy, smoothing his hair and whispering a soft good night. Tommy’s already half-asleep, but you make sure to tuck him in just as snugly, brushing a kiss on his forehead. Wanda stands in the doorway, watching you, her heart swelling in her chest. You were so clueless when she first had the twins, but now, being a mother just seems to come naturally to you. 

And you pulled it off in a week, while the twins stretched into six-year-olds just as fast.

“Honey,” you call softly, noticing the way she’s lost in thought. “Aren’t you going to say good night to our boys?”

Wanda steps into the room, giving each of the boys their good night kiss. You pucker your lips, silently asking for your turn, and she playfully swats your arm, whispering, “Not here, baby.”

You pout, giving her your best puppy-dog eyes, which only makes her smile. Without warning, you grab her hand and hurriedly pull her out of the boys' room, making a beeline for your bedroom. Wanda’s laughter fills the hallway, and just as you reach the door, you suddenly sweep her off the ground, lifting her into your arms.

Wanda lets out a shriek, her laughter infectious, and you can’t help but grin, even as you let her thump onto the mattress—a sloppy, graceless drop. You follow her onto the bed, rolling onto your stomach to peer down at her, still sporting that stupid smile.

“So, about that kiss you owe me,” you whisper, hovering closer, teasing her with your proximity.

Wanda nods distractedly. “I think I can manage that,” she murmurs, and then her lips are on yours.

It starts simple and sweet. Though soon, her tongue is gently nudging your lips apart, and it quickly becomes anything but. Her hands slip down to your back, pulling you close until her heartbeat hammering against yours. You break away, lips trailing down to her neck, exploring every dip and hollow, your tongue darting out to taste her skin. When you hit that spot just behind her ear, the one that always drives her wild, she gasps.

“Don't start something you can’t finish,” she warns, her voice already thick with want.

“Who says I won't?” you shoot back with a wolfish grin.

You both fall into a familiar routine, as easy to slip into as the back of your hand. There’s no hurry, just the two of you moving languidly—whispering against skin, giggles turning into sighs and breathy moans. Sometimes, being with Wanda feels like a desperate need, as if not having her completely would literally be the end of you. But it’s moments like these that are your favorite—the ones where you’re barely even trying, yet she still comes apart at your touch, at the mere feeling of your fingers on her. 

Eventually, you both settle down, a contented sigh escaping you as you curl up against Wanda, your skin slightly damp with the effort of your love. You like this, being the little spoon, hiding your face in her neck like you’re hiding from the world, though you vaguely recall a time when it was usually her in your arms. 

As you’re staggering on the edge of sleep, Wanda’s fingers gently massage your scalp, her lips dropping soft, pensive kisses on your forehead. You're almost out, but one last question keeps you from drifting off entirely.

“Wanda, that spell earlier that shrunk the boys—what was that about?” you mumble, your words slurring into the dream nipping at your consciousness.

Wanda’s laughter rumbles through her chest, nudging you slightly from your drowsy state.

“Come on, tell me,” you coax, giving her side a playful pinch to keep her talking.

“It’s embarrassing,” she mumbles, her face turning a delightful shade of pink again that spreads down her neck and chest. Her coy reaction wakes you up some more. As a twisted kind of payback, you run your tongue rough over her nipple, snatching a sharp gasp from her. Moving up, you hold her flushed cheek, making sure she’s looking right at you. Your thigh presses between hers, and it doesn’t take long before she’s wet and ready again.

“Are you going to tell me, or do you plan on sleeping with a wet pussy tonight?” you whisper, brushing your lips against the corner of her mouth. Under different circumstances, Wanda would scold you for your crudeness, but right now, she's too worked up to care. Your dirty mouth has always been one of the most irritating yet irresistible things about you. Even having kids hasn’t changed that.

“I was trying to... enchant your...” she starts, but then your hand tightens on her butt, spurring her subtle grinding movements. By this time, she’s practically dripping onto the sheets, her thoughts scattering as the tightening sensation below her stomach builds.

“My what?” you push, smirking as you watch her fumble for words. You hoist her leg, resting it on your shoulder, laying her wide open. You slide two fingers inside her, fucking her slowly while your thumb brutally circles her clit. As she hesitates to answer, you hook in another finger, drawing a sharp cry of pleasure from Wanda. Your gaze stays locked on your wife, a part of you as surprised as she might be at your boldness tonight.

All day, she’s haunted every corner of your mind, fantasizing about stealing a quick, desperate moment while the twins are asleep or at Agnes’s. But there’s been something—an unnameable restraint—holding you back from indulging those wicked impulses. It isn’t until the boys are asleep, the house quiet, that those invisible chains start to loosen. That’s when you can finally allow yourself to desire Wanda the way you really want to. The way you’ve always been meant to.

“Your... clit,” Wanda finally spits out, seeing you've drifted off, stuck in your head. “I thought I could make it... well, longer. Like a...” She chokes on the words, too embarrassed to finish.

“Like a cock?” you throw out crudely, looking down at her impishly.

Wanda nods, mortified but also a little defiant. “Wanted you to fuck me with it,” she mumbles, finding her backbone now that the secret's in the open.

“I am fucking you,” you whisper hotly right into her ear. “But if you want it like that, all you have to do is say the word.”

Wanda clenches around you at the thought of doing it like that in the near future, her breath hitching. “Please,” she mewls, the word dripping with need. 

“Good girl,” you growl, cranking up the pace as you drive your fingers harder inside her, making her gasp and arch towards you. “You can come.”

With a choked whimper, Wanda surrenders, her body seizing as her orgasm washes over her. She soaks your wrist, the clear fluid trickling down onto the sheets, but you don't stop, pushing through every pulse of her release until she's quaking, utterly wrecked beneath you. You patiently wait until her spasms subside before slowly pulling your fingers away.

Wanda's hand shoots out, stopping your movements. “Stay,” she implores, sounding like she's on the verge of tears. You're momentarily startled by her reaction, concerned something might be wrong. Swiftly, you slide your fingers back where they belong, nestled deep inside her.

“Okay, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, pushing back the damp strands of hair sticking to her forehead with your free hand. Exhaustion begins to cloud your senses as you sink down beside Wanda, still keeping your hand where she wants it. 

“I'm sorry for needing you so much,” Wanda murmurs, her voice shaky with tears you can't see, your cheek pressed against the pillow beside hers.

“Don't be,” you mumble, half-lost to sleep as she clings to you more tightly. “I’m here.”

“You love me,” she says, a hint of wonder, of fear.

You nod, lips brushing the nape of her neck. “And you love me,” you murmur back, your eyes slipping shut. “I'm not going anywhere, Wanda.”

“For now,” she whispers to herself, once your breathing evens out in sleep.

Tears betray her then, and she clamps a hand over her mouth to keep quiet. But just before her sobs fully break free, she flicks a finger, a thin red wisp of magic ensuring you stay deep in sleep.

With you unaware, Wanda surrenders to her grief.

[chessholic]

ー

The One With

Joey's Food

ー

Joey Tribbiani

x

Reader

Summary: JOEY DOESN'T SHARE FOOD... However it seems that rule might not apply when it comes to you.

Author's Note: Someone asked me to publish my Joey fanfics, so this one is for you. <3

ps. I made that iconic Joey's Meatball Sub, it really made me feel alive again.

New comfort food unlocked

ー

You were so tired, and hungry.

Oh dear, you could eat a horse right now. Or maybe not if that meant eating the entire horse.

Finally you got yourself inside being greeted with everyone else except Joey.

Where was he? You could really just snuggle against your friend to forget all your worries. Joey felt like home, he felt safe.

Except Chandler would disagree with you, strongly, not that you could blame him after that robbery thingy.

"It's a zombie! Everybody, run!", Chandler shouted while jumping behind Ross and pushing him towards you.

"Hey!", Ross squeaked realising that Chandler, his best friend since the beginning of time, was sacrificing him to this supposed 'zombie'.

"Hahaha", you laughed a dry sarcastic laugh while getting your jacket off.

"What happened to you?", Rachel asked noticing your disheveled look.

"Your eye bags-", Rachel was saying before you gave her a stern look that did shut her up.

Monica also gave Rachel an are-you-serious look before helping you sit down at the kitchen tables chair

"Work huh?", Monica asked already knowing what was behind your current state.

Before you started to explain Joey made a grand appearance with his iconic sandwich. It makes your stomach growl and mouth water.

Joey sat at the table next to you, he gave you a tender look before getting ready to destroy his food, with the intention of not leaving even crumbs behind.

"So. I got to work a few hours early because my boss asked me to and as we know my boss, I couldn't refuse-", you started taking a deep breath.

"I had my mom's cooking for lunch, but there was so much going on I didn't have time to eat. And when I finally did- that ass had eaten it! My food! It was supposed to be the only good thing today, and it was taken away from me", you rambled trying not to break down completely.

"Oh, this reminds me of that 'MY SANDWICH' thing", Chandler said looking at Ross who just looked back at him shooting daggers out of his eyes.

"Oh, this gets much worse. I confronted that- idiot and it got a bit heated. Long story short, I got fired", you ended your story leaving out the details of wandering around the city crying your eyes out.

"Let's celebrate!", Phoebe cheered from the couch making everyone turn to look at her.

"Yeah, you hated that job! More than I hated serving coffee!", Rachel said trying to comfort you.

"I didn't hate the job, but the people", you muttered burying your face into your hands.

"That's my girl!", Chandler cheered giving you a quick pat on the back before hurrying towards the armchair.

Your stomach made a loud noise and you felt truly awful.

"Do you have anything to eat Monica? I don't have anything at home", you asked carefully your voice cracking slightly.

"I need to go quickly to the store-", Monica started hurrying to gather her stuff.

"Here, you can have my meatball sub"

The time seemed to slow down.

Phoebe stopped chewing her hair.

Rachel had her hand covering her mouth that was hanging open.

Monica dropped her purse to the floor.

Chandler almost fell off the armchair.

Ross had a look on his face that would be expected if someone would prove to him that dinosaurs had never existed.

You lifted your head to see Joey smiling and offering his food, to you, you.

Joey had a small amount of the sauce on his face.

"I already took a couple of bites if that's okay", he said looking a bit sheepish.

"Really?", you asked voice slightly shaky, knowing that nobody else dared to move or speak.

Joey nodded and you reached towards him. But to everyone's surprise you didn't take the sandwich.

However you got up and put your arms around his neck. Burying your face to his neck you mumbled so many thank you's that nobody could say exactly how many there was.

Maybe ten? Hundred? Hundreds? Who knows.

Then you gave a kiss to his cheek before pulling away and snatching the sandwich from him.

Eagerly you started eating it and you moaned slightly at the most delicious thing you had ever eaten.

"JOEY DOESN'T SHARE FOOD!", everyone suddenly shouted after they switched glances between each other.

Joey tried to look like he had no idea what they were talking about, his face was oddly red and he was feeling warm and fuzzy.

Joey loved seeing you happy, he could sacrifice one meatball sub for your happiness.

But only one.

When Joey looked at you eating happily his favourite Meatball Sub he couldn't even see anything else than you. He didn't even care about his friends who were still shocked and wanted answers.

Joey would give you every meatball sub for the rest of his life if it meant seeing you so utterly happy.

But he wanted a bite, at least.

ー

[florencebirdsong]

I am so normal and can be trusted with marvel women. Please give me marvel women. I won’t bite them. I am so normal about marvel women. Please give them to me

[harknessxo]

Paring: Serial-killer!Stalker!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Agatha finally has you to herself but things get a little bit complicated.

Warnings; kidnapping, knife kink, blood kink, mommy kink, dub-con, fingering, strap on use, bondage, choking, Stockholm Syndrome.

Word Count: 5.3k

Part 1, Part 3

A/n: Here’s part 2!!

After many hours you finally started to stir awake. When you opened your eyes a sudden rush of pain striked through your head. You held your head, closing your eyes again trying to lessen the pain. Once the pain had calmed down you opened your eyes again and found yourself on a bed that wasn’t yours. You frowned, confused on where you were and right then the memories of the night before came back to you.

You slowly sat up in bed, your head still throbbing from the pain. You looked around the room, trying to make sense of your surroundings. It was a dimly lit room with a few pieces of furniture scattered about. You were alone, but you knew that Agatha was somewhere nearby. You got out of bed, your legs feeling weak and unsteady. You tried to remember what had happened, but the memories were hazy. As you tried to walk closer to a window to look outside, you felt a cold piece of metal wrapped around your ankle. You looked down to find a shackle on your ankle, making your heart drop.

“I know. It isn’t exactly what I wanted but I couldn’t have you running away from me,” a voice said from behind you. You slowly turned to find Agatha leaning against the room door.

“What- Where am i?” Your voice trembled.

“You’re home. And don’t worry, no one can hear you here. I made sure of it,” she said, taking a step closer to you.

“The police will be looking for me as well as you,” you stepped back and far as the shackle allowed you.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m always three steps ahead of them. No one will find you here. And even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to take you away from me. You’re mine now.” She said, her voice firm and possessive. She took another step closer to you, closing the distance between you two, making you flinch.

“Why…” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “Why did you kill Wanda?”

“Because she was trying to steal you from me,” she said, her voice dripping with venom, “She was so goddamn clingy to you, acting like you belonged to her. It drove me crazy and the thought of her having you for herself was something I just couldn’t allow.”

“She was my best friend!” You shoved her off out of anger, tears running down your face. She stumbled back slightly, a look of surprise crossing her face before her expression turned to anger.

“She wasn’t good enough for you! No one is good enough for you! Only I am good enough to have you!” She raised her hand and grabbed your chin tightly, forcing you to look at her.

“Ah!” you groaned, her grip on your chin painful.

“You need to understand, sweetheart. You belong to me and only me. I’ll carve my name on your chest with the knife I used to kill Wanda if necessary. I won’t let anyone take you away from me, not even your precious little ‘best friend’. I did what I had to do to keep you safe and with me.” She said, her voice low and menacing.

“You’re fucking insane!”

“I’m not insane, I’m just a woman who knows what she wants and will do anything to get it. And what I want is you. So you better get used to being mine, because you’re not going anywhere.” She said, her grip on your chin tightening even more.

“You’re hurting me!” you gripped onto her wrist. She let go of your chin and grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“And you’re being a bad girl. I told you to behave.” She said, her eyes narrowing at you.

“Why did you kill all those women?” You suddenly asked.

“I killed them because they looked like someone who did me wrong in the past. I knew it was wrong to kill all those women but I just couldn’t help myself. I needed someone to take my anger out on. You were actually going to be one of my many victims,” she leaned closer, her breath warm against your skin, “But I didn’t expect to actually develop a real fascination with you.”

“Are you gonna kill me now?”

“I was but I couldn’t just kill you. You’re special. You’re different from the others.” She said, her voice softening slightly as she looked at you. You let her press her cold lips against your neck as you tried to process everything. She kissed and nibbled on your neck, her lips trailing up to your ear.

“You're finally mine. You could be my wife.” She whispered, her breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Your wife?” You mumbled.

“Yes, my wife. I want you to be mine in every way possible. I want to claim you as mine and only mine. I want to make you mine in every way a man and a woman can.” She said, her voice low and possessive. She pulled away from your neck and looked at you with a hungry look in her eyes.

“Agatha?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” She said, her voice soft as she looked at you with an intense gaze.

“Please let me go-”

She shook her head in disappointment, roughly letting go of your wrist and stepping away from you in frustration. You began to sob, sliding down the wall until you were sitting on the floor, hugging your legs. She let out a deep sigh and knelt down in front of you, her expression now softer.

“You’re so pretty when you cry,” she moved her hand closer to your face. You closed your eyes tightly as she moved her hand to wipe a tear away.

“Agatha, I’m scared.”

“I know you are, sweet girl. But you don’t have to be scared. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” She said, her voice gentle as she cupped your face in her hands and gently wiped away your tears.

“Please I won’t tell anyone-” she laughed at your empty promise.

“Now we both know that’s not true. It hurts that you would lie to me. You’re a smart girl, you’ll tell the police and they’ll come after me. And I can’t have that.” She said, her tone becoming serious again.

“You can’t keep me here forever!”

“Oh, but I can. And I will. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you here with me. Even if it means keeping you locked up forever until you learn to love me.”

“Love you?” you stood up, “You killed my best friend! I hate you!” Without thinking, you took the closest thing to you and threw it at her. The object hit her square in the chest, knocking her back slightly. She stumbled backwards with a masochistic look on her face.

Your eyes widen when you realize what you did. You were about to apologize but she tackled you on the bed, holding you down, making you scream bloody murder. She straddled your hips and grabbed your wrists, pinning them down on either side of your head and pulled her pocket knife, pressing it against your throat. She looked down at you with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“Now, now. Is that any way to treat me? That wasn’t very nice…”

“I’m- I’m sorry…” you stuttered out, scared of what she would do next with the knife in her hands. She leaned down and pressed her body against yours, her breath hot against your ear.

“That’s a good girl. You need to learn some manners. No throwing things at me or trying to attack me. Understand?”

“I…I understand.” She smirked and nipped at your earlobe, her grip on your wrists loosening slightly. She trailed the tip of the knife down your throat to your collarbone.

“What are you gonna do to me?” You asked, not knowing if you actually wanted the answer. She chuckled and ran the knife down to your chest, the cold metal sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh, I have so many things in mind, darling. I could hurt you. I could punish you. I could make you mine in ways you never thought possible.”

“You s-said you wouldn’t hurt me-”

“I changed my mind.” You inhaled, holding your breath as she ripped through your shirt with the knife, clenching your eyes tightly. She cut through your shirt, revealing your bare chest. She traced the knife along your skin, admiring your body.

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t wait to mark you as mine.” She pressed the cold metal tip against your nipples, making you whimper. She smirked and watched your reaction with intense fascination. She ran the blade gently over your nipples, enjoying the way they hardened under her touch.

“Does that feel good, darling? The cold metal against your sensitive skin?” You didn’t respond, too focused on your breathing, fearing any movement would cause her to nick you. She chuckled in amusement and leaned down, her breath hot against your skin. She gently nipped at your neck, her teeth grazing your skin.

“You’re being so quiet. I like it when you make noise. I want to hear you scream my name.”

“I…” You felt breathless. She pulled back and looked at you with a smirk, the knife still pressed against your skin.

“Go on, say it. Say my name.”

“No.” You refused. Her expression darkened and she pressed the knife harder against your skin, just enough to draw a little bit of blood.

“You’re so bratty. Say it. Now.” She demanded.

“Ah! Agatha!” You cried out in pain. She smiled at your agony, satisfied with your response.

“Good girl. See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She leaned down and licked the blood from your skin, her tongue tracing the cut.

“It hurts-” You moaned in pain as she licked over the cut. She smirked at your moan, enjoying the sound of your pain. She continued to lick and kiss the cut, her tongue moving up to your neck.

“You taste so good, darling. I could get addicted to this.” She looked at you, wiping some blood from her lip with her thumb.

“Please…” You begged, not knowing what for. Her gaze darkened again as she looked at you with a hungry look in her eyes.

“I love to hear you beg,” she pressed the bloody tip of the knife on your collarbone, “Say it again.”

“Please, Agatha.” Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she continued to trace the knife down your chest, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

“That’s better. You’re learning. But I want more. I want you to beg for me to touch you. Beg for me to make you feel good.” You closed your eyes tightly, tears running down your cheeks. You didn’t want to please her but deep down you actually did. During the time you spent together you had managed to feel something for her.

“Please touch me, Agatha.”

“As you wish,” she licked your tears before kissing down your body, putting the knife next to you on the bed. Her grip on your wrist had loosened and you took the opportunity to free yourself and take the knife. You pushed her off and stood up, shakily pointing the knife at her while covering your breast with your other arm.

Agatha stumbled backwards, a bit surprised by your sudden action. She held her hands up in a gesture of surrender, but her expression was of amusement.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s being feisty now.”

“Let me go.” You said trying to sound confident. She chuckled at your failed attempt and took a step closer to you, unfazed by the knife pointed at her.

“You’re so cute when you try to be tough. But we both know that’s not going to happen.”

“Don’t take a step closer!” You wielded the knife at her. She raised an eyebrow, amused by your warning. She took another step closer, her eyes locked on yours.

“Or what? You’re going to stab me?” she laughed, “Just give me the knife before you hurt yourself badly.”

“No-“ You were cut off by her taking the knife from your hand, bending your arm behind your back and bending you over the edge of the bed.

“Now, now. I thought we had an understanding. You were doing so good…” she fake pouted, taking off her belt and tying both your arms behind your back.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!” You sobbed. She chuckled, making sure your wrists were tightly secured.

“Oh, I won’t hurt you. At least not in the way you think. But you need to learn to behave, hon. And I think I know just how to teach you.” She started pulling your pants down.

“No!” you squirmed against her, “Please!” She held you down firmly, not letting you move.

“Shh, just stay still for me.” She finished pulling down your pants and ran her hand over your exposed skin. Her hands against your skin made your body tremble. She smiled as she felt you tremble beneath her touch. She ran her hands up and down your thighs, her touch light and teasing.

“You’re so sensitive, angel. I can feel you trembling under my hands. Do you like it when I touch you like this?” She whispered into your ear, her body flushed against yours.

“N-no-”

“Liar,” she chuckled, slowly trailing the knife from your waist to the band of your panties, “Your body betrays you, my dear. I can see how much you’re enjoying this. The way your skin flushes, the way your breath hitches. You’re trying to deny it, but deep down you want this,” she snapped the string of your panties, making the fabric fall down your legs. Your breath hitched when the cold air hit your dripping core, making you shiver slightly. She smirked as she saw your reaction, noticing the wetness between your legs.

“Would you look at that. You’re already so wet for me. I haven’t even touched you properly yet.” She ran her finger along your folds, teasing you. You buried your face into the mattress, ashamed of how your body was betraying you. She chuckled and leaned down, her breath hot against your ear.

“Don’t hide your face, sweet girl. I want to see you. I want to see the look on your face as I touch you. You can’t hide how much you want this.” She continued to tease your folds, slowly circling your clit.

“Hmph…”

“Come on, baby. Don’t be so stubborn. Just admit that you want this. That you want me to make you feel good.” She increased the pressure on your clit, rubbing it in slow circles.

“I…I want you to make me feel good.” You finally gave in. She smiled, satisfied, finally winning your body over.

“That’s a good girl. I just want to make you feel good, angel,” She continued to rub your clit, her other hand gently caressing your thigh, “Tell me how it feels. Tell me how much you want me to touch you.”

“F-fuck Agatha!” She almost moaned when she heard you moan her name, her fingers moving faster inside you.

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so good.” You felt yourself getting closer to the edge, your nails digging into your palms as you tried to even out your breathing. She felt your walls clenching around her fingers letting her know you were getting closer. She leaned down, her lips against your ear again

“Are you gonna cum, already?” She teased as you gasped for air, “Let go. I want to feel you come undone around my fingers,” she curled her fingers inside you, hitting your g-spot ever so perfectly. You came almost instantly, your juices gushing out into her fingers, your vision going white. She watched as you came, a satisfied smile on her face. She continued to pump her fingers in and out of you, helping you ride out your orgasm.

“There we go. Such a good girl,” she praised, slowly pulling her fingers out of you. You whined when she pulled her fingers out, suddenly feeling empty. She chuckled at your whine, bringing her fingers to her mouth and licking them clean.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fill you up again soon. Now I’m going to untie you and you’re not going to do anything stupid, isn’t that right, sweet girl?” You nodded your head, too tried to say anything. She smiled and untied the belt that was holding you in place, letting it fall to the floor. She gently rubbed your wrists, massaging the red marks that the belt left behind.

“So obedient,” she pulled your head back by your hair, “How good was it?”

“So g-good-” you mumbled pathetically. She kissed your cheek and loosened her grip on your hair, letting you rest your head on the bed.

“I know, baby. You were so good for me. I’m going to give you a reward.” She took off the shackle around your ankle before flipping you into your back. You let her treat you like her doll as she positioned your body however she pleased. She smiled as she looked down at you, admiring your body. She spread your legs apart and knelt between them, her hands on your thighs.

“You’re so beautiful like this. Spread out for me, completely at my mercy,” her hands moved up to cup your breast, “I’m going to fill you up nice and full just you wait,” she started to get up, “Now stay still and look pretty.” She moved away from you and walked over to her dresser, opening the top drawer and rummaging through it. After a moment, she pulled out a strap-on.

“What’s that?” You asked, your vision a bit blurry. She held up the strap-on, biting her lip.

“It’s a little gift for you, angel. Something to fill you up and make you feel even better than my fingers did.” She slowly took off her clothes as if to give you a show. You could only stare, mesmerized by her beautiful toned body. She could see the look of awe on your face as you watched her undress, a shit eating grin still on her face. She strapped the strap-on around her hips and walked back over to the bed, standing over you.

“You like what you see, sweetheart?”

“Mhm…” you hummed and she leaned down, her face inches away from yours.

“You’re being awfully quiet. Where did that bratty mouth go?” You flushed, embarrassed.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed. I love it when you’re feisty. It’s so much more fun to break you.” She chuckled, her eyes roaming over your body. She picked up a fluffy pillow and placed it under your hips.

“Are you comfortable, sweet girl?”

“Yes.

“See?,” she said, positioning herself between your legs, “If you behave, mommy can be nice,” She ran her hand along the strap-on, coating it with your juices.

“Mommy? How did you-” She chuckled and placed her hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles with her thumb.

“Oh, baby, I know everything about you and you’re so perfect.” You tried to say something but she quickly shushed you.

“Shh, don’t you want mommy to fill you up?” She moved her hips forward, the strap-on pressing against your entrance. You were quickly to nod your head.

“That’s my girl,” she put your legs over her shoulders, “I want you to keep your eyes open for me, okay? I wanna see you fall apart.” You obeyed her order, keeping your eyes on her as she slipped the strap inside you. It felt like heaven as she entered into you, your mouth open with a silent moan. Agatha nearly came by the mere sight of your greedy cunt eating her strap.

She let out a low moan as she watched the strap disappear into you, the base pressing against her clit ever so perfectly.

“God, you’re so perfect. You’re taking me so well, baby girl.”

“Mommy!” You moaned out. She groaned at the sound of you calling her that, her grip on your thighs tightening.

“Say it again,” she said, slowly pulling the strap out and thrusting it back in.

“Mommy…” She started to pick up the pace, her hips snapping against yours with each thrust. She leaned forward, her body pressing against yours.

“Good girl, you’re doing so good for mommy. You’re such a good little slut,” she wrapped her hand firmly around your neck making you feel like you were in cloud 9. The only sounds heard in the room were of your skin slapping and the wet noise your pussy was making. Agatha looked down at where your bodies connected and noticed the belly bulge that formed every time she thrust inside you. She let out a low moan at the sight of the bulge, her hand squeezing your neck ever so slightly.

“You feel that, angel?” she moved your hand down to your tummy, “That’s how deep in your guts mommy is.”

“M-mommy-” you whined.

“What is it baby?” she thrusted her hips roughly, “is it too much?”

“Yes- too- too much,” you gasped out, wrapping your hand around her wrist. Agatha smiled, not relenting on her brutal pace.

“Do you want me to stop?” She tightened her grip around your neck, squeezing harder. When you didn’t reply she laughed.

“You’re so greedy. You want mommy to keep using you like this, don’t you? You like when mommy is rough?”

“Please mommy?” You pleaded and she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear.

“Please what, baby? Use your words.”

“Harder-” She chuckled darkly, her hips slamming into you harder than before.

“Is that better, angel?”

“Fuck- yes!”

“Such a dirty mouth,” she nipped at your earlobe, “Maybe I should punish you for that.”

“No, no, no- I'm sorry. Please don’t stop.” You begged desperately.

“I wasn’t going to stop anyway.” She chuckled darkly, keeping her torturous pace. Her other hand kept rubbing your clit and soon you came on her strap. She slowed her pace as you came, her hand still on your clit. She watched your face as you came undone, her own arousal growing.

“That’s it, baby girl. Let go for mommy.” Her thrust became sloppy and she chased her climax. She was getting close, her hips grinding against yours. She was so focused on her own pleasure that she didn’t care to notice how overstimulated you were. You squirmed and whine under her, your legs shaking from the overstimulation. She grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, holding you down.

“Be still, baby. I’m almost there.”

“But-”

“No buts. I’m gonna use you until I cum, and you’re going to take it.” She growled, her grip on your wrists tightening. The base of the strap kept rubbing against her clit until she finally came and in the process making you come a third time. She let out a loud moan as she came, her hips stilling against yours. She panted heavily, trying to catch her breath as she rode out her orgasm.

“Fuck, baby. Did you come again, sweet girl?” She panted out.

“Yes, mommy…” you muttered out. She let go of your wrists and slowly pulled out of you, watching as her strap came out.

“Good girl,” she laid down beside you, her hand running through your hair, “You took me so well,” she patted your pussy, chuckling when you clenched your thighs together.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” her hand resting on your thigh.

“Mhm..” you buried your face into the valley of her neck. She chuckled and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close.

“Poor baby, too sensitive to even speak.”

Suddenly there was a noise of someone bursting through the door of the house. Agatha was the first to get up.

“Mommy? What was that?” You asked a bit scared.

“They are here to take me, baby.” She explained while getting dressed.

“Take you? No! I don’t want them to take you!” You said desperately.

“I know, sweet girl,” she kissed your forehead while handing you a shirt, “Put this on for me.” Just as you finished putting the shirt on a S.W.A.T. team barged into the room, screaming at Agatha to show her hands and get on her knees.

“No!” You screamed, trying to get to her but one of the officers held you back, “Let me go! Aggie!”

“Shh,” she shushed you as they roughly put her in cuffs, “Everything is going to be okay.”

“I don’t want you to go away!” You sobbed, punching the officer’s chest.

“Calm down.” The officer ordered as he tightened his grip on you, struggling to keep you from hitting him. You managed to free yourself from his hold and ran towards Agatha, clinging to her for dear life. She was moved away from you, and the cops held her back from you.

“It’ll be okay, I promise.” She managed to say to you as she was being pulled away. You fell to your knees, crying as they took her away. She was forced out of the room, the last thing you saw of her was her being dragged away by the police.

The officers allowed you to get dressed before taking you to the station so they could ask you questions about Agatha. You sat in the interrogation room, waiting for someone to come in and ask you questions. The room was cold and uncomfortable, making you shiver. After about ten minutes the detective that had been on the case of the Angel of Death finally came into the room. Tyler Hayward. He sat down across from you, his gaze stern and cold.

“So you’re the latest victim of the Angel of Death.” He stated bluntly.

“I’m not her victim.” You said firmly. He raised an eyebrow at your statement.

“Oh really? Then why were you with her? Were you her accomplice?”

“No. Of course not-“ He cut you off as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

“Then why were you there with her? What’s your relationship with her?”

“…she kidnapped me.”

“She kidnapped you? And you didn’t try to escape?”

“She did it to protect me-”

“Protect you? How exactly does kidnapping you protect you?” He scoffed, clearly not believing you.

“Because she loves me.”

“Love?” he laughed, “She’s a serial killer. How can you be so sure that she loves you? She killed your best friend-”

“She did it for me! For us!” She slammed your hands on the table. He looked at you, unfazed by your sudden outburst.

“Us? What do you mean ‘us’?”

“So me and her could live together in peace.” He shook his head.

“You’re delusional. You can’t honestly believe that a psychopath like her would want to live a peaceful life with you.” He shook his head.

“Don’t call her that.” You said angrily.

“And why is that? That’s exactly what she is. A cold-blooded killer who has no regard for human life.”

“Stop it!”

”You need to realize that you’re in denial. She doesn’t love you, she just wants to use you for her own sick pleasure.”

“You’re lying! She wouldn’t do that!” He slammed his hands on the table, causing you to flinch.

“Open your eyes! She’s manipulating you. She’s a master manipulator and you’re just another one of her victims.”

“Screw you, Hayward! I want to go home!”

“You can’t go home. You’re under police custody until we figure out what the hell is going on.”

“Then I want to see Agatha.”

“No can do. She’s not allowed to have visitors.”

“I won’t say another word.”

“Fine, have it your way,” he stood up and walked toward the door, “Your friend, Monica is here to see you.”

“Monica?” You asked with a hopeful voice. He nodded, opening the door and motioning for Monica to come in. She came in running towards you, giving you a big hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Y/n. I was so scared when I went to your house and didn’t find you there.”

“I’m okay, Monica.” you pulled away, smiling at her.

“Did she do something to you?” She sat down next to you, holding your hand.

“What?” you frowned, “No. She would never hurt me.” She looked at you with a worried expression.

“Y/n, she killed Wanda-“

“So what?” You stood up angrily. She looked taken aback by your sudden outburst.

“So what? She’s a killer, Y/n! She doesn’t deserve to live!”

“No! She loves me!” Monica stood up as well, her voice growing more desperate.

“You can’t seriously believe that! She’s just using you, can’t you see that? She doesn’t care about you, she only cares about herself!”

“What would she even use me for?!”

“I don’t know, maybe she wants you to help her kill more people or something. She’s a psychopath, Y/n. She doesn’t think like we do.”

“Don’t call her that!”

“Why do you keep defending her? Can’t you see that she’s dangerous?”

“Not to me.” You said simply.

“God, she has you brainwashed…” Monica shook her head.

“No she doesn’t!”

“Okay,” she said simply, “I have to go. I’ll see you when they finally let you go.” You frowned again at her sudden change of demeanor but nodded either way. Monica gave you one last hug before leaving the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Hayward was still watching you from the other side of the room, his expression unreadable.

They left you in the room for hours. You were starting to lose your mind, banging at the door begging for them to let you see Agatha.

“Please! I just want to see her one last time!” You cried out while dropping to your knees in front of the door, defeated. A few seconds later they finally opened the door and you scrambled to your feet.

“You get eight minutes with her.” Hayward said, irritated. He led you into another interrogation room where they were keeping Agatha. When they opened the door and you nearly tackled her to the floor with a hug. Hayward took the opportunity to leave the room, locking the door behind him. Agatha stumbled back slightly from the force of your hug but quickly wrapped her arms around you in return. She held you tightly, her grip almost desperate.

“Oh my sweet girl. Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

“No, mommy, I’m okay. They are trying to make me hate you and I don’t like it.” She pulled away slightly to look at you, her expression a mixture of relief and anger.

“Those bastards. They’re trying to turn you against me. Don’t listen to them, baby. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“I don’t want them to take you away from me.” You sobbed as she held you tighter, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Shhh, shhh. They won’t take me away from you, baby. I promise. Look at me.” She pulled away and held your chin up.

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re mine remember?,” she leaned closer to your ear, “Take this,” she whispered, handing you a brooch you’ve seen her wear all the time, “Keep this safe for me, okay? Act like nothing happened and I will find you, how does that sound?”

“For how long?” You whined.

“A week a at most-”

“A week?”

“I need you to be patient, sweet girl,” she chuckled , brushing a hair out of your face, “Don’t you want to live with me forever?” You looked down at the brooch before pulling Agatha into a kiss. She returned the kiss, her hands gripping your hips as she deepened it. She pulled away reluctantly after a few moments, resting her forehead against yours.

“Remember, just act normal and be patient-”

“Times up!” an officer interrupted, “Let’s go Y/n. You can go home now.” You looked back at Agatha, giving her one last kiss before you were dragged out.

Taglist; @polaris-likethestar @wandasreallover @oh-no-bummer @phixiesworld @eliscannotdance @venomhimbo @aka-patsy @scoliobean @chlondykebar @p-taryn-dactyl

[sebsxphia]

reunion kisses.

natasha ‘phoenix’ trace x reader.

￫ summary: natasha comes home after a long deployment and you’re going to show how much you missed her.

￫ word count: 3.5K.

￫ warnings: sex, oral, fingering, scissoring, kissing and fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ authors notes: i had the deep desire to write a simply smutty and sweet fic with nat, therefore this was born! this hasn’t been proof read. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Natasha was as quiet as she could be as she clicked your front door locked and shut it behind her. She slung her duffel bag off her shoulder and gently placed it on the floor of your hallway. Her heavy boots paced along the floorboards before she sat at the bottom of your stairs and un-laced them. She momentarily craned her neck upwards to gaze longingly at your hallway, catching a glimpse of your bedroom door hidden behind the stair railings.

An excitable smile broke out on her face and she could feel her heart pounding faster against her rib cage, the prospect of seeing you after three months apart dawning every second closer as both of her boots were placed at the bottom of the stairs. Her socked feet padded, yet still in a hurry up your stairs, purposefully missing the creaks in the woodwork to not wake you any sooner than she had planned.

She reached the door of your shared bedroom and gingerly inched it open. She had to control her erratic breathing, her heart now feeling like it would burst through her chest. She bit down so hard on her bottom lip it threatened to draw blood, biting back an excitable giggle bubbling up her chest. Her eyes fell to the sight of your frame for the first time in three months and for all her years of training, they went out the window. Her knees could’ve buckled then and there, at that very moment.

Your en-suite bathroom door was cracked open to allow for the dim light resting overhead your mirror to shine through. Natasha knew that when you slept alone in the house you needed this tiny source of light to comfort you. Even if she was away for one night, you needed the light to feel not so alone in your shared bed. It wrapped you up alongside your blankets and kept you warm when Natasha’s warmth wasn’t there.

She raked her gaze over your covered frame and sucked in a harsh breath. You were partly lying on your side, partly on your stomach, with the print of Natasha’s old Navy Academy stretched across the tattered t-shirt you were wearing. On your second date, she got you a Build-a-Bear dressed head to toe in pilot gear. He was tucked under your arm and hugged tightly to your chest. By the third date, it was sprayed in Natasha’s perfume and her familiar scent had never faded. Your lips were parted and soft snores were leaving your nose alongside you.

Natasha recognized your incredibly peaceful form and a tiny part of her didn’t want to disturb you, but the rest of her wanted to taste your lips on hers again. She padded over and as she was two steps away, you finally shifted from your content slumber. Your eyes slowly blinked open, bleary and worn out with tiredness. Alongside that, your limbs jumped an inch as you took in the frame close to you, but the light flowing from your en-suite bathroom illuminated Natasha.

A breathless and stunned gasp jumped from your throat and your upper body bounced upwards. You felt your whole body come alive. Every nerve ending was set alight. You felt like a live wire.

“Natasha?! Oh my fucking, God! Natasha! Baby!” Your squeal of pure joy could be heard for miles around as your arms wrapped around her neck and drew her to you, finally feeling that contact from your lover.

Natasha let out a stuttered laugh as bright as the sun as she fell into your familiar embrace, bouncing slightly as she landed on the mattress with you.

“My dove. My sweet, sweet dove. Fuck, I missed you, so much.” Natasha gasped into your neck.

You fell back against the pillows with her over you. Her nimble fingers immediately found your warm and rosy cheeks and brought her plush lips to yours. Her lips were cold against yours since coming in from the night outside, but they quickly warmed up against yours. She wasted not a second more before letting her tongue dip just inside your bottom lip and run along it, savouring the familiar taste of you. She pulled back and let her teeth tug on your lip and you let out a wanton moan, quiet but full of need.

“You weren’t meant to be back for a week! What the fuck happened?” You gasped out, as you quickly found the air she had knocked out of your lungs.

A prideful smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she purred.

“Bradshaw spoke to Admiral Simpson. He got me bumped up a week. He felt kinda bad taking me away on deployment for three months, just as I proposed to my girl a week before I left.” Natasha chuckled.

“Damn. We gotta get him a fruit basket or somethin’, as a thank you.”

Natasha tutted playfully. “Not before I taste your fruit basket.”

“Jesus, Natasha.” You burst into a fit of bubbling giggles in response, Natasha joining you as she registered what she just said. She was a concoction of lack of sleep from three days of traveling and pure excitement at the prospect of seeing you again. She might as well have been slurring her words by this point.

“God, I’ve missed your corny one-liners. C’ere, baby.” You purred against her lips and cradled her firm jaw in your hands. You felt it soften as she leaned into your plush lips again. You could feel the months of tense nights and early mornings melt away each time she moved her lips against yours. Small and pitiful moans from her were vibrated against your own. You felt her hips press down and push against your bare cunt. The rougher material from her jeans created delicious friction which you hadn’t felt in months and left you careening for more. Need, want and desire to taste your pretty baby’s cunt again.

“Pretty baby…” You breathed out as you broke from her lips. By now, the bedside lamp had been switched on and it illuminated a warm glowing light over your bedroom. From this, you could see how Natasha’s cheeks turned a rosy pink at your sweet name for her. “I need to taste you, Nat. C’ere, let me make love to my pretty fiancée.”

You began to maneuver Natasha off your warm frame and lie her down. She let out a groan in sequence and she was squirming to be pinned on top of you again.

“Fuck, dove. Let me have you, please.” Her whines and pleas had never sounded so sweet.

You cocked her chin upwards with your knuckle and grinned.

“Pretty baby, you’ve just travelled for God knows how many hours to come home, you’ve probably been wearing the same clothes for three days. Just, let me fuck, my, fiancée.” You punctuated every word. “Lemme take good care of you, baby. You can have me any way you want after.”

Natasha let out a pleasured groan and released the tension from her chest, caused by all the travelling she’d done, in combination with the prospect of her fiancée making her come. It was beautiful, domestic, peaceful, simplicity.

She had never fallen so hard for someone.

Her goal of becoming a Navy Pilot and potentially flying with Top Gun became her priority, rightfully so, but any sort of dating or relationships were in limbo and were always put on the line.

Until you.

She made it work with you because she wanted to make it work. More than anything she had ever wanted. Sure, she worked fucking hard for her place in Top Gun, but for you, she would fetch the moon and the stars if you so asked. She thought you looked like an angel in reincarnation as the soft, golden, glowing light in your bedroom framed your face between her now bare thighs.

As she was lost in the giddy waves of love and excitement due to being back with you, you had shed her Navy Academy t-shirt from yourself, her cargo, white t-shirt and her underwear. You were both lying bare naked with each other and you wasted no time in pressing your nose against her plush cunt and inhaling her familiar scent deeply into your airways.

As your nose nudged against her clit, she let out a choked moan and a curse of your name. Your hands wrapped around her thighs with your fingertips pressing firmly into her flesh. You kept her thighs held open as she bared her naked pussy to you. You couldn’t help the small smirk that twitched at the corners of your lips, as you noticed an already slick shine of her arousal seeping through her folds.

You loved teasing Natasha. You would take long, agonizing strokes around her lips and gently prod at her clit slowly over time. But right now, you couldn’t care less. It had been far too long since you had had her taste dancing on your tastebuds, and you therefore wasted no time in burying your face against the soft curls of her pubic hair and attaching your lips to hers.

An almost vulgar slurping sound bubbled against her pussy and in tow, a wail of a cry left Natasha’s mouth, followed by her cursing your name and, “Fuck!”

Her hands immediately shot out to tug at your hair, pulling you impossibly closer to her cunt. Your tongue started to bury itself deep within her, and already you could feel and taste her cum dribbling onto your tongue. A muffled moan left your lips as you tasted her again. You wanted her to be embedded into your tastebuds forever. You wanted her in your veins. She tasted so sweet.

Croaked moans and gasps left Natasha, with one of your hands leaving her thighs momentarily to snake upwards to her pebbled nipples where you gently tugged and pinched at them. Her moans became louder and her gasps were stuttered. With your hand resting over her chest, you could feel how rapidly she was breathing and how heavy her heart was hammering against her rib cage.

Your tongue moved from inside her to begin swirling around her clit. In sequence, Natasha whimpered and her hips bucked. The sensation had been long forgotten by herself, with her fingers only during half the deployment job. The sudden jolt of direct stimulation to the point where she needed it most, gave her the most pleasure and all she could do was continually whimper uncontrollably.

You began switching between pressing your tongue as deep as it could go and swirling around her clit. If you had the time (maybe tomorrow), you’d insert two fingers, but you couldn’t wait a moment longer. The desperation from yourself caused you to sloppily eat Natasha out, yet still pinpointing all of those spots that made her cry your name. By any means, Natasha felt much the same. Your mouth was enough for her and you could tell she was becoming close. You began to lock your lips around her clit and suck harshly, occasionally tugging at it gently with your teeth. When your lips kissed her clit, your tongue could work at lapping it feverishly.

This was the point where Natasha came crumbling down and fell apart in your mouth.

“Dove, baby, o—oh, fuck!” Her fingertips were pressing against your skull as she held you tightly against herself. “Right there, right there, oh, fuck, baby! Y’ feel s’ good, s’ fuckin’ good.” Her hips were bucking uncontrollably and her erratic breathing was matching that. “I'm gonna come, Dove…”

For a moment no longer than a second, not wanting to take away from her sensation, you mumbled against her, “Come, my pretty baby. Come f’ me. Come on my tongue, please.” You begged her just as much as she was begging you.

Her moans grew louder and heavier with each breath and then, one long cry which crackled into pleading whimpers escaped her throat. Her hips stopped bucking, but instead, she ground her pussy impossibly closer to your mouth in an attempt to soak up each twitch and throb of pleasure. You moaned deeply against her as you tasted her practically pour out onto your tongue. Her sweet release was like cotton candy. You lapped away at her, with your tongue going through every fold and soaking up every last drop that came from her cunt.

You hadn’t even noticed from being too lost in your fiancée’s pussy, but you had started grinding down on the bedsheets in an attempt to gain some friction and alleviate your throbbing clit. Still, you continued to lap at her cunt and over time you gently slowed down your ministrations to gentle sucks and kisses, letting Natasha come down softly.

In combination, you let out muffled praises against her. “Doing s’ good for me, pretty baby. Y’ taste s’ good, feel s’ good. God, I’ve missed you and your perfect, pretty, cunt.”

She let out wobbled whimpers and strained moans at your words, and due to the sensitivity of her orgasm still rolling through her, her clit still twitched when you lapped at it for longer periods. She let herself roll her hips against your cum stained mouth through her orgasm and she heightened sensitivity. She was savouring every long-awaited feeling caused by you, her sweet Dove.

Her heavy panting soon slowed down to rhythmic breaths. You came off her clit with a last satisfying suck and pushed yourself up Natasha’s warm and damp torso. A thin veil of sweat had already begun to coat around her tanned skin. You kissed her light freckles, that had been brought on by the sun during deployment, and finally placed your lips on hers. She moaned into your mouth as she tasted herself. Sweet and warm. Her hands came up to ring around the base of your neck and pull you in tighter. She kissed you sloppily, her muscles still feeling limp from the moments prior.

Eventually, she pulled away and gazed up at you with half-hooded, pleasure-induced eyes. Her tongue dipped to wet her bottom lip and soak up the remnants of your kiss.

“I wanna feel you, my sweet girl.” Natasha purred. She was already moving to sit up and guiding you to lie down.

You knew what she meant by this and you hummed in pleasured agreement.

Although she had just been pulled apart by your mouth, she remained steady as she got on her knees above you and gently parted your thighs with her firm hands. Your pussy twitched as you were reminded that those very hands controlled a Navy fighter jet.

She grinned and dragged her teeth slowly over her bottom lip as she saw the sight before her. Her fiancée’s pussy was slick with their arousal. Natasha’s slender index finger moved up through your folds and pressed delicately on your clit. Your wetness gathered on the pad of her finger. You couldn’t hold back the wanton moan that left your lips. She pressed her palm against your pussy and slid her two middle fingers inside of you with such ease, it made her chuckle. The tips of her fingers curved up inside of you and brushed your entrance. You’d only felt the friction from the duvet prior and this sudden heated touch from Natasha caused your hips to buck forward and chase her.

“Please, Nat! Need you. Need to feel you.” You babbled out.

She hesitantly removed her fingers and still with a grin on her lips, she sucked on her digits and groaned at the taste of you.

“Taste so sweet for me, my sweet girl.”

You whined again below her. Months of longing for her came crashing down on you with a heavy weight and you couldn’t bear waiting a second longer.

Natasha heard your pleading whines and cooed. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’, baby.” She parted her thighs and slotted herself over you. Your pussy pressed against each other and you let out a whimper when you felt her warm clit move against yours. She too stuttered. “Fuck… I missed you. I missed you so much, my sweet dove.”

You gazed up at her with pleading eyes. “I missed you so much too, pretty baby. Feels s’ nice feelin’ your pussy on me.” She moved an inch and you whined again. “P—Please move, Nat.”

Her hands squeezed onto your thighs and she began to slowly move against you. The slick between your pussy coated you both and allowed her to grind against you with ease, with an obscene noise. Your clit slid against hers and pushed through her folds. You were throbbing with sensitivity and every movement against her caused your nerve endings to be electrified like a live wire. She picked up her pace and your hips moved against her to match her rhythm. Your breathing elevated to the point where you were practically panting. A constant string of pleasurable moans left your lips, as you begged her for more.

Normally, Natasha would enjoy teasing you further and testing how long you could beg for, but you were both desperate after all this time.

With her heightened pace grew a firm pressure on both of your clit’s, as they continuously slicked against each other. Natasha threw her head back as she was grinding down hard against your cunt. Her soft, inky black hair fell past her shoulders. Some of the finer strands of hair had gathered around her temple and forehead, sticking to her hot skin with sweat. She cursed your name and cried out about how sweet you felt. Your entire body was responsive to her touch and the firm feel of her cunt grinding down onto yours. She gripped so hard onto your thighs, that her pressing fingertips could bruise.

“Oh, baby, oh fuck! I— I don’t think… I— I can last m—much longer, baby.” You cried out from below her.

Her head came back down and her eyes met yours. Your clit throbbed against hers as you saw the desperate and pleading look in Natasha’s eyes.

“Please come for me, dove. Please, please, please. I need t’ feel you squirming against me. I’m right behind you.”

She ground down onto you impossibly harder and as her clit swiped past yours, it was the final touch to push you over the edge. Your body squirmed and a cry of gratification tore from your dry throat. Your jaw went slack as strings of curses and moans fumbled over your lips. Your pussy throbbed against hers and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“Good girl, my dove. Such a good girl for me… Fuck! M— Makin’ a mess all over me…” She praised you from above, but Natasha’s panting grew heavier with even heavier moans. Her eyes were locked onto yours but her long eyelashes were fluttering.

Your clit thrummed with overstimulation, as she continued to chase her high. Your hips still angled against hers and allowed her to pulverize for the next few strokes, pushing her to crash over the same edge you just fell. Her body began to stutter over you, but she remained as steady as she could. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut as she babbled out moans of your name.

Natasha looked radiant above you. A sheen of sweat coated her tanned skin. The soft light of your bedside table lamb reflected and flexed against her toned muscles, as she rode out the final strokes of her high. Her silken black hair fell with perfect waves over her neck and shoulders. Her teeth grazed over her plush bottom lip as she sucked in the last gasp of air from her high.

Her orgasm had caused her to go limp and she let herself fall to your chest. You held onto her and gently guided her down to rest her warm cheek against your breasts. You felt her soft breaths of warm air fan against your skin. Both of your heartbeats slowed down in sync. Natasha hummed to herself with a smile as she finally heard the comforting and rhythmic thud of your heart under her pink-tipped ear.

She turned her head slightly and pressed a kiss in between your breasts, lifting herself to give you a lopsided grin.

She hummed again. “Let me clean you up, my dove.”

You let out a blissful sigh and combed your fingers through the finer hairs on her temple. You nodded in agreement and cupped her cheek to bring her lips closer to yours. You both let out a content groan as you tasted one another on each other’s lips.

You pulled apart and watched as Natasha’s eyelashes were fanning over her cheeks, her eyes growing heavier with each passing second. You knew that she was beyond exhausted from her travels and the prior activity, therefore you let her rest against you for a couple more moments.

You would clean her up with a warm washcloth in a minute.

For now, your only desire was to feel your future wife resting contently against your chest.

You pressed a kiss to the top of her head and purred with sweet delight.

“I promise I’ll take care of you in a bit, baby. I’m just so fucking happy your home, my pretty baby.”

Two days later and a fruit basket arrived on Bradley’s doorstop.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown @flames-thebitch @birdy-bat-writes @thedroneranger @randomfandomgirl97 @kmc1989 @swiftsgirlfriend

tagging those who were interested / who may be interested: @rhettmotel @roosterforme @floydsmuse @lewmagoo @sugarcoated-lame @beautifulandvoid @hangmanapologist @rhettabbotts @nobody7102 @cherrycola27 @laracrofted @auroralightsthesky @rhettsgirll @castiel-barnes @fraaaaankiiiiieee @senawashere

[frickingnerd]

giving monica a hickey

pairing: monica vandham x gn!reader

tags: flustered monica, established relationship, wholesome fluff

monica is both well respected and often looked down upon, as the leader of house vandham!

she's rather young for a leader, given that she had to take on that role after her father's death. so she often has to prove herself in any given situation!

monica can't allow herself to provide anything that could be used to criticize her!

which is why she gets quite upset at you when you give her a hickey on her neck, that is so clearly visible…

not only does she not want ghondor to find out about the two of you dating like this, but she doesn't want any of the other house leaders to think poorly of her for what you and her do behind closed doors

it's quite an odd view when monica suddenly shows up at the war room, wearing a scarf that doesn't fit her usual attire at all

despite all the comments and quiet mumbles about her new look, monica knows that this is still a lot better than if everyone saw that hickey you gave her

though it's quite humiliating to hear those whispers about her…

monica tells herself, that once she gets back home to you, she'll give you a hickey of your own and a taste of what it's like to have people whisper about you behind your back…

[unholyhelbig]

oversight part 6 ??

Title: The Oversight [Part 6/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 6237

Warnings: SMUT UNDER 18 DNI, oral (r recieving), Dom/sub dynamic, slight mommy kink if you squint, fingering (r recieving), and horrible grammar

[A/n: This took literally all day because I hadn't started it until this morning, and it's now 12am. Good thing it's -15 degrees outside and I physically cannot leave my home. I haven't written Nat smut... ever. Go easy on me.]

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Natasha Romanoff knew how to handle a gun. She tested its weight; the mix of metal and plastic was familiar to her as lungs were to breathe. As ocean was to water, as sky was to rolling thunder. Handling a gun, especially while loaded, was a delicate process. She’d stroke the trigger, ghost her fingers over the barrel and expertly tease the weapon into doing exactly what she wanted.

Natasha Romanoff was not one to do anything without calculation, not one to do something without complete control. But, the soft noises that escaped your throat as she nipped across your jawline and licked over the burning bites to soothe the smallest bit of pain made her stop thinking. Stop calculating. It threatened to take her control.

Your back was up against the cool mahogany of her bedroom door. You’d barely gotten a chance to close it before her hands were all over you, and that floral scent invaded your lungs. You were frantic to pull her as close as possible, to feel her body fully against yours. You needed Natasha Romanoff more than you needed life itself. You needed her inside of you.

She seemed just as beside herself. Her nails ran up and down your sides, brushing against the exposed skin that the slit in that beautiful emerald dress provided. You were enamored with it earlier in the night. Now you were grateful for all the exposed parts of you, the hot touches and breathless kisses.

“So needy, malyshka” Natasha whispered between kisses. “You need me to take care of you, don’t you?”

Yes. You wanted that more than you could vocalize. Instead, you let out a groan that was muffled by her lips against yours. You understood the irony, feeling so safe with a woman who was one of the most feared within the city.

She reminded you in a gentle growl “words, baby, use your words.”

“Please, I need you.”

Natasha didn’t need another green light. She hauled you into her arms in a feat of strength, backing you onto the bed. The sheets were cool against your bare legs. The last time you’d been in this bed, you were in much worse shape. You preferred this, coming undone with Natasha’s wandering hands and damp kisses.

You hungrily pushed her jacket from her shoulders, brushing the pads of your fingers over her defined muscles. She smiled against your lips, throwing the expensive garment to the floor. You made quick work of the buttons down the front of her waistcoat, barely exposing the curve of her chest before her fingers reached up and grabbed yours.

“You’re far too clothed, darling.”

The objection was soft, and you were quick to comply when she pulled the dress up to expose your thighs. You lifted your hips and she moved the dress the rest of the way over your head, tossing it to the side. Her eyes raked hungrily over your dips and curves, hands caressing your sides, watching as your pulled air in and let it out in excitement.

“You knew this was going to happen?” Natasha said with a wolfish smile as she took in the lacy bra and panties that you wore.

“Hoped, really.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“Do I need one?”

Her smile widened as she expertly slid the buttons from their proper place and pulled her waistcoat off. You were met with tanned skin, with a toned stomach and breasts that you itched to palm. She started to kiss along your neckline, down your chest, and the very start of your stomach. Expertly, she unhooked your own bra, tossing it in the same direction as your dress.

Natasha bit and sucked in the right places and your back arched in eager response. It distracted you from her wandering hands. You shuddered as she pushed past the elastic of your underwear, she brushed her finger up the length of your slit, and a breath got stuck in your throat.

“So wet already, just from a little teasing.”

“Natasha,” You moaned her name.

You squirmed as her touch moved lower, she kissed along your waistline, moved your underwear down your legs until you were fully exposed to her. She let out a content breath that was hot against your center, you fought the urge to press against her.

“Zaychik, I have a few rules,”

“Anything, just… anything.”

She kissed against your thighs, ever so close to you. It was driving you nuts, and while you trusted Natasha with your life, with your sanity, it was you who was struggling with control. You craved her touch and then resented how much you relied on it. You had never wanted anything more in your life.

“You belong to me. And that means, you can only cum when I give you permission.” You whined under her soft ministrations, bucking your hips forward. She bit hard against the expanse of your skin, enough to bruise. “Am I clear?”

“Y-yes, yes. Clear. Crystal. Baby please.”

Natasha hummed against you. “Good girl.”

Your cheeks heated at the positive reinforcement and your fingers curled into the expensive sheets. A gasp escaped you when her tongue met your folds. She licked expertly across the length of your center and an entirely pornographic noise left your throat when she stopped at your clit, sucking softly.

You could feel your heartbeat in your chest, pounding against your ribs in a perfect rhythm. Natasha slid a singular finger into you. It was painfully slow, and far from enough to fill you up. You resisted the urge to grind further into her. Another finger, another soft noise.

A combination of her quick movements and attention mouth brought you close to the edge embarrassingly fast. You had thought of this moment for months, how skilled she was, how your naked body would be writhing under her touch exactly as it was now.

When Natasha added a third finger, your mind started to grow foggy. You had known for awhile that you would do anything for her. It wasn’t a feeling that you shied away from in the slightest. Excitement was building in your core, breath coming quicker, sweat slicking against every inch of your body.

“Remember your manners, baby girl.” Natasha’s words vibrated against your core, making your squirm. “Not until I say.”

Her fingers curled inside of you, your walls tightening expertly around her. It took everything in you not to give in to her. There was an impossible pressure building inside of you. You gasped in as much air as you could muster.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You,” the answer came without hesitation. “Only you,”

“That’s right. You’re all mine, my little toy.”

Her words only worked you up more. You wanted to take care of her, wanted to worship her. You’d do anything she commanded. The word slipped past your lips without a second thought. She was working so hard to undo you. “Natasha… mommy”

Natasha let out a moan at the title, her pace increasing. She returned her hot mouth to your clit, circled it with your tongue expertly. She mumbled against you, words vibrating. “You can cum, princess.”

She didn’t’ have to tell you twice. You tightened around her fingers, arching off the bed as pure extasy washed over you. You clenched every part of your body, groaning into the crook of your arm to muffle the noise. Pleasure rolled over you, through the pit of your stomach.

Her mouth continued to work throughout the lingering pressure of your orgasm, threatening to build to another one. Natasha pulled her fingers from you with a wet noise. She breathlessly moved herself next to you, kissing your neck, your jawline. Natasha pressed her fingers against your lips, and you were eager and ready to accept them. 

You could taste yourself on her, sucking them as she nipped at your earlobe. She whispered, feeling hot against your skin. “Such a good whore, so willing and ready to suck anything. Take anything. I can’t wait to give you a strap.”

Your heart began to race at the thought, and she smiled against you, clear that she could feel the increase of the rhythm from your closeness. Natasha removed her fingers, she kissed you hard, and you kissed her back with just as much passion, pulling away slightly to stifle a yawn.

“Tired already, Zaychik?”

You chuckled “you wear me out. Though, I’m not too worn out to make you feel good.”

“Mm, you’ve already made me feel good. I think we should get some sleep.”

You wanted to fight her on it, body still trembling from the rolling orgasm she had given you. But exhaustion was fighting too and Natasha readjusted you both until you were settled gently into the crook of her neck, one arm lazily over her midsection. She was gentle and attentive with her movements. Brushing strands of your hair behind your ear. Who knew Natasha Romanoff was a cuddler?

A spring storm had taken full effect by the time you had crossed back into the city, but it seemed that nothing could dampen your mood. The clouds that formed in dark clusters and released sheets of rain were something of beauty, not despair. The day was still warm, the breeze cold to cut through the sweat that formed on your brow. You’d cracked the window, allowing stray drops to cool your skin.

You stopped by the mailbox on the bottom floor, wiggling the smallest key on your ring into the lock until it opened. You barely checked the mail and it was stuffed full of coupons, advertisements, and the occasional statement from Veronica’s after-school daycare.

You tucked the papers under your arm and started the long ascent to your floor. You avoided the nails that stuck up through cheap wood. The spots in the carpet that had been soaked through with water damage. None of it seemed to bother you.

“Good morning, Miss Baxter.” You mumbled to the older woman who always perched in front of her door in a busted lawn chair. She had a perfect view of her neighbor across the hall. Her little, crusty white dog barked in morse code at you.

“What’s so good about it? Raining buckets and everything in this godforsaken place leaks.”

“Well, I suppose that’s where the buckets would come in handy.”

She made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat but you were already a good portion of the way up the final flight of stairs. You pressed your shoulder tactfully against your apartment door pushing it open before you threw the mail on the table and flicked on the kitchen light. The air conditioning chilled you to the bone, drying the damp spots on your clothes.

There was a click in the far side of the room, one that was unfamiliar from the ticking of the air unit, or the settling of an old building. You were used to those noises. This was entirely too human for your liking, so you drew your gun in a fluid movement, much like the other night.

Without hesitation, flicking off the safety and aiming.

Darcy was sitting in the beaten recliner in the corner. There was an upturned book on the side of the chair. You weren’t sure how long she had been sitting there, but from the bags under her eyes, the way her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, you knew it had been awhile.

You instantly lowered the weapon, hands suddenly shaking. “Darcy, what are you-?”

“I… I knew that something was up these last few months. I thought you had started seeing someone, a regular at the diner, or, or God forbid the dude who works behind the grill. But when I went to the diner you weren’t even there. They said you hadn’t been there for months. And can you please put that thing away?”

“Sorry, I’m sorry” your words were pinched as you rebolstered your weapon. “I can explain.”

“Can you?” She stood, closing the distance between you both now that there wasn’t a loaded gun in the middle. You straightened up, heart pounding haplessly in your chest. “Because Monica Rambeau came up to me at work the other day and told me that you were lying. She… she wouldn’t tell me what, just that you weren’t being truthful, and I defended you, y/n.

“I defended you because you’re my best friend. You have been for years. I’ve stood by you through everything. Through meeting Ronnie’s father, and getting pregnant and comforting you when he left you- because he did leave both of you!”

“Darcy,”

“No. Let me finish. Let me finish. I’ve been here for you every step of the way. Every single step and the only thing that I’ve ever expected from you is honesty. Don’t you think I deserve that? Don’t you think Ronnie deserves that?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, watching her carefully as she caught her breath, and her bearings. You had only seen Darcy this angry once, and it had been years ago. Sophomore year of high school when her parents decided to split, and her father tried to get her to move to Washington state with him.

She fought and fought because they waited until the last minute to tell her. They weren’t truthful, and you hadn’t been truthful either. More importantly, in both situations, she had been right.

“The y/n I know, can’t draw a gun like that, and doesn’t come home covered in bruises, and doesn’t flinch into action at every little noise. The y/n I know wouldn’t have lied to me in the first place. So, what is going on?”

“Can we… sit?”

You didn’t entirely trust the strength of your legs right now. Parts of you were sore, you had realized that as you climbed the stairs. You could feel them trembling now and fought the urge to curl up on the carpet that was right under your feet.

“I’m fine standing.”

“A drink, then? It’s uh, it’s five somewhere, right?”

“y/n.”

“Right, yes. I know.”

And you did know, but only to a certain extent. If Monica hadn’t gone to Darcy, would you have? It was a single night of drunken lovemaking followed by a less-than-graceful exit into the cold of autumn. There was a tightness to seeing her again, and the underlying fear that this would happen. But so many things were happening.

“I am sorry that I haven’t been truthful with you, but you have to believe me, it was for your own safety. For Ronnie’s safety. I would never lie without a good reason.”

“Well, that’s subjective, isn’t it?” Darcy’s breathed “You always think you know what’s best for me, what’s best to hide from me. But you don’t know what I can handle.”

Okay, you absolutely needed that drink. Darcy wasn’t going to leave now, not without answers she was pushing so hard for. Ronnie was getting too tall for her own good, so you hid the good liquor in the cabinet above the fridge.

Bourbon, warm or not, was your choice and right now you couldn’t bother with ice, just a mug that you had gotten from a thrift store. It was from Cabo and had a little white sand beach and a flamingo wearing sunglasses on the front. You’d never been to Cabo.

The first sip went down burning, and the second soothed the first. “I took a loan.”

“Like, from a bank?”

“From a shark. Technically. They don’t call them that, but that’s what they are. I didn’t realize it at the time, or else I wouldn’t have, but I was already two months behind on rent and I refused to ask you to cover me again. That’s not your responsibility. You already do so much for me and Ronnie.”

She opened her mouth to object, to rush in and say that she would have given you anything and you knew she would. But that didn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t have asked her in the first place.

“I didn’t pay them back in time and they weren’t very lenient. They took me under their custody to persuade me into coming up with the money.”

“Persuade? Their custody?”

“Kidnapped… beat within an inch of death. Whatever way you look at it, I was on their bad side.”

With horrible judgement you filled up another two fingers of whisky, only swallowing half but making eye contact with Darcy as you had done so. Simmering behind her deep blue stare was a mix of pity you were desperate to avoid. It soon dwindled back into discontent and that made you want to continue.

“I was spared on account that I wasn’t their usual clientele. Natasha, she called me… shit, what was it? An oversight? I was a blip in the system. I wasn’t supposed to happen and for that reason, and that reason alone, she offered me an ultimatum.”

Darcy sidled up to the counter that rested like a drawn line between you both. Her fingers tapped nervously on the surface but some of the tension had drained from her shoulders. “Natasha? That.. woman from the fair? The one with Clint?”

“Oh, Clint, you remember?” You smiled.

“He’s strong. Rugged.” She shrugged, frowning “That’s not the point. You’re telling me he’s a part of this sharking business? You’re telling me you let a known criminal that close to your daughter? To me?”

“I get how that sounds bad, Dee, but he’s really not a horrible guy. He’s a father himself and you’re right. You’re right. It’s not the point.” You swallowed the second half of your drink and placed the novelty mug in the sink to stop yourself from polishing off more of the bottle. “They gave me an ultimatum.”

“An ultimatum?”

“I could kill myself working at the diner everyday for the rest of my life. Twelve-hour shifts with most of the funds feeding right back into their palms. It would take decades to give back the money I took from them. Or, I could work for Natasha and pay off my debts in a quarter of the time.”

Silence filled the room. The only type of silence that you knew, that was filled with the sounds of the city. Your neighbors to the left were having a fight that seemed bigger than the one you and Darcy had now. A boombox blasted reggae music across the street and certain beats bled through the thin glass windows.

You swallowed the acrid flavor on your tongue. “For the last four months instead of the diner, I have been with Natasha. With Clint. They’ve been teaching me, and at first, I hated every single second of it. I was scared for… for weeks. But, Darcy, I’m starting to enjoy it and that scares me more than anything.”

“I need to sit down,” She mumbled.

“I offered,”

“I know.”

She flopped down onto the sofa that folded out into a bed. You’d slept there for a month when Darcy’s apartment was being fumigated and you refused to make her take the couch. It was hell on your back, but Ronnie had never been happier to wake up to the both of you each morning.

It carried a familiar clean scent. Darcy pulled a blanket into her lap and ran her fingers over the bumps in stitching. You cautiously lowered yourself down next to her, starting to feel the effects of an empty stomach and too much liquor for the afternoon. You were suddenly nauseous and starving all at once.

“There’s more,” Darcy said, “What you just told me was a lot, but there’s more. I know you, y/n, and I’m giving you an opportunity here to tell me everything.”

You sighed, slumping on the couch. You could feel the bar in the center of the couch push against your spine. There was a crack in the ceiling next to a gray and brown water stain that looked like a Rorschach test.

“Natasha. I think I’m in love with her.” You could hear Darcy turn her head with a dizzying quickness. “I’m not supposed to be, it’s the last thing I’m supposed to be. I’m supposed to be protecting her and that’s incredibly hard to do when I’m distracted by her eyes.”

Darcy was laughing and it lightened the mood in the room. The tension was still thick enough to slice with a knife, but it was enough to get you to look at her. “You’ve got it bad, huh?”

“The worst.”

“You really think this is what’s best, huh? Putting yourself into the line of fire like this? Handling a gun?”

“I do. I really, really do.” You picked up her hand, relieved that she didn’t pull away so you squeezed it, just to make sure that it was real. That she hadn’t run at the first sign of trouble. “I always tell Ronnie that I’d get us out of here one day. All of us. And I never knew how to do that on $2.00 an hour.”

Darcy sighed heavily; she leaned her head on your shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know. But some risks you just have to take.”

The sun had broken through the clouds for the first time in days. It streamed through the windows of Natasha’s private office, nestled at the back of the large house. In the past week, you had been here twice and each time your heart thudded impossibly fast.

This time, she had summoned you before you were through the doors for your normal shift. There were no extra caveats. You weren’t meant to head down to the docks, or to one of the many storefronts that were rented from the Romanoff family. Instead, you were simply meant to be here.

The home was empty, you knew from the lack of cars that were outside. Natasha’s was the only one in the lot besides yours. There was a certain quiet to the day and the French doors that led to her private office were ajar to strengthen the airflow.

She was focused on the work in front of her, hair in a messy bun and two strands falling from her haphazard job. There were black frame glasses on her face. Her face was scrunched up in a frankly adorable expression. It softened when she glanced up and saw you, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

Much to your dismay, she removed her glasses “Come in, close the doors behind you.”

You did as you were told, letting them fall with the subtle shake of the blinds. They’d been closed but a small stream of golden light was splayed across Natasha’s desk. It caught the intensity of her eyes, the sharp green color that only came out when she was surrounded by these walls.

“Sit,”

Obediently, you moved to do so, pulling one of the leather chairs out from its spot on the other side of the desk. You felt shame, despite last night. She was still your boss, still the person you were meant to protect. That’s what you were being altered for.  

“Not there.”

You lifted your eyebrows, halting in your spot. Natasha pushed back in her rolling chair, ever so slightly. She gestured vaguely to her lap. She can’t be serious? This had to be some type of test? It didn’t seem like one. You certainly wouldn’t mind having her arms wrapped around you, her scent enveloping, intoxicating.

Cautiously, you did as you were told, lowering yourself onto Natasha’s lap. There was an overwhelming warmth, a destined comfort to being in her arms, so much safety in the simple gesture of her pulling you close.

She guided your chin until your lips were close to hers, not quite touching. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” You responded before closing the distance. She hummed into the kiss, her tongue running over her lips, against the roof of your mouth. You could taste her morning coffee and a hint of mint.

“I missed you.”

“It’s been two days,”

She hummed, pressing her cold nose against your throat. The weekends were reserved for relaxation, and as much as you wanted to stay with Natasha in this giant house, you had a life within the city; a daughter, friends, responsibility.

“I don’t want you work for me anymore.”

You frowned and pulled slightly away from her, your arms still circling her neck. This certainly had to be a test but there was no indication to such on her face. She had nothing but a tender expression, a quiet one that left no room for argument, but you weren’t built like that.

“What?”

“I,” Natasha dipped her gaze, pressing her forehead against your cheek. Her words were a whisper. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You can’t get hurt if I don’t put you in the line of fire.”

There were a few moments of silence aside from the large clock on one of the bookshelves that clicked with each passing second. Natasha had never been vulnerable with you like this. There had been moments of soft expressions, but never this.

Gently, you lifted her chin, forcing her to look at you. “Natasha, I can’t do that. I can’t just stop protecting you. It’s all I’ve been training for these last months.”

“I want to offer you something more, y/n. You and Ronnie both. I want you to have a home here… with me.”

You breathed her in, your forehead against hers. Your eyes were closed, but you could feel her watching you for any kind of reaction, anything that would give your feelings away. She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture making your shudder against her.

“I want that too. But more than anything, I want to keep you safe. I still want this. I still want to be there for you like I have been. Behind you every step of the way.” You chuckled sadly, “While being a trophy girlfriend sounds amazing, I want to earn my keep.”

Natasha smiled at you, “Girlfriend? That’s quite the title.”

“I mean it,” you played with her necklace, an equally as small gold chain. “I want to keep training. Girlfriend or not. If you’re going to keep me around.”

She moved forward, kissed against the small expanse of skin behind your ear, down the side of your neck. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Mmhm, but I was serious about you and Ronnie.” She pulled back, brushing her thumb over your flushed cheek. “I like you, y/n. You make me happy.”

Before you could respond, her lips were against yours again, her hands tracing up your sides. You were well aware of how close the two of you were, of how easy it was to get heated in this position, of Natasha’s cold fingertips as they ghosted under the hem of your shirt.

“I brought pizza from that place on the corner that you like,” You balanced the large and greasy box on your hip. It wasn’t your favorite place, the man behind the counter was always rude and the line was out the door. But it was for good reason, you had to admit, because the food was always delicious and made you forget about all the complications.

Darcy ate pineapple on her half the pizza like a criminal. You and Veronica were content with pepperoni, but you’d have to sprinkle extra parmesan cheese on her slices, cutting them into small pieces and providing her with a fork.

There was quiet to Darcy’s apartment. One that reminded you of the many times you had pulled your weapon in preparation. Your hands were full with the box, with a plastic bag filled with off-brand soda and two-dollar movies that were on the shelf at the corner store.

You struggle to swallow your own fear at the sight that lies in front of you. The television is muted, but a cartoon continues to cast the living room in a pale, blue light. Darcy is sprawled on the couch, her chest rising and falling in what seems to be a heavy sleep.

The light above the oven is on and the kitchen table is far from unoccupied. Ronnie looks up at your entrance, content with the array of markers, colored pencils, and crayons that are scattered in front of her.

Carol Danvers sits in an adjacent chair, working on staying in the lines of her own picture. You weren’t close enough to see what she had drawn, but based on her track-record you were sure it was something ghastly.

Monica Rambeau sat in the recliner, a mug of something steaming in her hand. Her eyes were trained on the television despite the lack of sound. They didn’t flick to you when you entered. She was confident that you weren’t going to make a move. Cocky.

“Is that from Ginos?” Carol asked, capping the marker that she was using. “God, they have the best pizza.”

“Yeah, it is.” You whispered.

Cautiously, you let the door close behind you. With an almost domestic way about you, you set the box and the bags down on the counter before wiping the sweat on your jeans. You made quick eye contact with Monica. She nodded at you, regarded you quietly.

“Sit, I was just telling Veronica that she’s very good at coloring. You’ve got a real artist on your hands, Y/n.”

“So, I’ve been told.” You sat down, keeping both of your hands on the table. Kate told you that it was a sign of trust. That if you were quick enough, and she was sure that you were, it wouldn’t matter how far away your weapon was. “What did you do to Darcy?”

“Oh, she’s just so exhausted. Sometimes working a nine-to-five will just take it right out of you. She’ll wake up tomorrow morning after some much needed rest.”

You nodded; mouth incredibly dry. Carol was watching you carefully. She had scribbled something that looked like a mass of color but the more you stared, just like the stain on the ceiling in your own apartment, the more it looked like something more.

She laughed, shaking her head “I’m afraid I’m not as good of an artist as your daughter.”

Ronnie looked at you, her eyes searching your face. It was easy to read her. You had for years. There was curiosity there, but no fear. Carol had probably led with something along the lines of I’m friends with your mother.

Or maybe it had been Monica who forced her way in first. She’d wandered into the kitchen and opened the box of food. Her nose scrunched up at the prospect of fruit on pizza, but she made quick work of picking off the offensive items.

Carol pushed the sheet of paper close to you. “Tell me, y/n, what do you see?”

“I… I don’t know. It looks like a duck.” She lifted her eyebrows, looking or more, and you confidently pointed to each element. “The beak is right here, and the eye is here.”

“Right.” Carol made a swift movement and flipped the photo. “What does it look like now?”

For someone that claimed not to have a good eye for art, Carol sure had a high opinion of a diagram she’d created with a few waxy crayons. It wasn’t the best drawn creature, but you got the general idea.

“A rabbit.”

Carol beamed at you and it made you feel sick to your stomach. “Clever one, aren’t you? Do you see how the world can be viewed in more than one way? To you, this could be a duck, or a rabbit, or just a poorly drawn abstract painting.”

“It’s very well done.”

“Don’t flatter me. I know what I’m capable of. I know what I’m up against. More importantly, I need you to know that sometimes, perspective can change everything.” She leaned back in her chair, rolling a crayon under her fingertips. “The Romanoff family is on the wrong side of an ongoing war, and by association, so are you.”

Veronica got out of her chair then, finally losing interest in the activity that was given to her. Monica and Carol tensed, as did you. But your daughter gave you a look that indicated television. Something else to occupy her mind. You let out a shaky breath.

“Sure, baby. Keep it low, okay?”

She nodded at you and scrambled over to the living room. There were soft noises from the cartoons afterwards. She sat patiently close to the screen to she could hear. She minded you well, hugging a throw-pillow close to her chest.

“It was very easy to track you down. Did you know that? Almost as easy to get in here, to have full access to your life. The life you had before you met Natasha Romanoff.” Carol reached into her coat pocket, she pulled out a business card. “You need to choose a side. If you’re going to stick around in this town, you need to choose a side, or get better locks.”

She left it on the table along with the smattering of art supplies and her crudely drawn photo that was supposed to teach you about perspective. Though, you were certain you knew all you needed to. There wasn’t even a question.

Carol stood and gestured for Monica to follow. She clapped you on the shoulder before she left, her words just the quietest of whispers. “I understand her allure, y/n. But there’s more than one force to deal with in this city.”

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[brooooswriting]

Connected

Carol Danvers x reader (romantic), Monica Rambeau x reader (platonic), Kamala Khan x reader (platonic)

Kamala was secretly snooping through Carol's ship while the rest were downstairs when suddenly somebody appeared in front of her. She couldn't stop the squeak that left her as she nearly crashed into you. “Wh-Who the hell are you?” she asked once she stepped back.

“Who the hell are you?” you asked back, questioning the audacity of the girl in your girlfriend's ship. You hadn't heard from her in days, which scared you, so you decided to come back and check if she was alright.

“I-I am Ms. Marvel,” she stuttered out, her answer confusing you significantly, but before you could say anything, Carol and a woman came running up.

“Kamala, are you alright?” the captain called out, her first already glowing as she shoved the younger girl behind herself. “Omg, y/n,” she swooned as soon as she saw you. “What are you doing here?” she added as she let go of Kamala, signaling to them that you weren't a threat.

“What I am doing here?” you asked sarcastically, picking up a dishcloth on the table beside you. “You haven't reached out in days, not answering my calls, not texting back. Nothing. Jeez. I thought you died,” you growled at her, hitting her with the cloth you picked up before.

“Alright, alright, can you calm for a second? I want you to meet somebody. This is Kamala Khan, and this is Monica Rambeau, also known as Luitenant Trouble.” She pointed to each of them so you could reach out and shake their hands. You couldn't help but smile when she said Luitenant trouble; she had always told you about the girl and how much she missed her. “And now, how about we go down? So we have a bit of privacy.” Without saying anything, you started to walk toward the stairs. Carol following you like a lost puppy.

You crossed your arms once you stood across from the blonde, an annoyed look on your face. She stood still for a moment, contemplating what to do next. “Don't ever. And I mean ever. Ghost me like that again, or I am going to kick your ass into the next universe,” you threatened, your tone serious.

“I'm sorry, it's just… a lot has happened, and I was so stressed that I didn't even have time to check my phone, love.” She took a step closer to you before continuing. “Now come here; I missed you.” Carol quickly grabbed your waist and pulled you into a kiss. Without a second thought, your body reacted and kissed her back, your arms wrapping around her neck. You didn't even notice that tears started to stream down your face, the fear of something happening to her finally disappearing.

Once your girlfriend noticed your tears, she pulled away one of her hands, finding your face to wipe away your tears. “It's okay, I'm alright. I'm sorry, baby. I didn't wanna scare you like that. I promise I'll never do it again.” Her muscular arms wrapped around your waist again, her skin touching yours as she scooted them under your hoodie. Her hands rested on your back as you buried your face in her neck, your sobs slowly dying down as she used her powers to heat up her hands. Something she knew calmed you down and helped with your constant back pains. You finally felt content until suddenly the body pressed against your felt… well… different.

Before you could pull back, the other person pulled away. “Iuh, please tell me you didn't do anything sexual,” you recognized Monica's voice and couldn't hide your small smile when you saw that she had her eyes closed.

“You can open your eyes; we were just hugging”

Before anyone could say something else, you heard the captain scream out of annoyance. “Monica, powers. Now,” and a second later, Carol stood in front of you again.

“I-what?” your head tilted to the side, and your brows were furrowed as you tried to piece together what just happened.

“I'll explain in a moment. It's a long story. But first, I want another hug and kiss, this time without switching. I promise.” You fell into her arms again, pressing several small kisses against her lips.

After that, you went back upstairs and joined the other two. Each of them sat on a beanbag while you and Carol sat next to each other on the bed, the blonde's arm wrapped around you while her hand rested on your waist. They, mainly Monica, actually explained what the deal was, and you were more than confused.

Turns out, Carol was not the only one who played with her powers when she was nervous or bored. One moment, you stood in the bathroom with your girlfriend behind you, a hand on your waist as both of you brushed your teeth. And the next a confused teenager had her hand on your waist and stood behind you. You, as well as the teenager, let out a yelp and jumped away from each other before groaning. Kamala immediately started to apologize as she avoided your eyes.

You quickly spit out the toothpaste so you could calm down the girl. “Kamala, Kam- it's alright. It's not your fault, hon. We all have to get used to it.” Your hands landed on her shoulders to stop her pacing. “Now, come on, let's go to the others.” You walked out with the girl behind you. Carol was sitting on the bed with an annoyed look. The moment you stepped out, hell broke loose, the three girls arguing and discussing without listening to each other. You rolled your eyes before whistling loudly, making them stop.

“OK, we will need some rules. While I find all of you lovely, I’d appreciate it if you all weren't constantly in my girlfriend's place. So, first rule: no playing around with your powers out of boredom, Carol, no heating up your hands while hugging or anything.” You threw the blonde a glance before continuing. “Second, if you use your powers, just call out quickly so nobody gets hurt, alright? Last rule, before you guys fight any fight, you'll train how to deal with this.” You saw in their eyes that they wanted to start again, so you spoke up again. “Now, go brush your teeth, and then go to bed. Everybody.” All three of them nodded, Monica and Kamala, making their way to brush their teeth.

“She’d be a great mum,” Kamala whispered to Monica, making you laugh.

While the rest got ready for bed, you and Carol got into bed. Your head rested on her chest as she wrapped her arms around you, kissing your head softly. “Tomorrow, you have to tell me how your see-again with Monica was.”

This would be a wild week in which Kamala couldn't keep eye contact with you for even a second.

[togrowoldinv]

The Bodyguard Pt. 2

Bodyguard!Natasha Romanoff x Actress!Reader

Natasha is tasked with being bodyguard to you and you two grow close. Maybe too close, but would she dare cross that line?

Note: The long awaited part 2 is here! Find part one here. I hope you enjoy it!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

“Rule number three: We can’t get too close to each other,” Natasha says. “I have to protect you with a clear mind.”

“Okay,” you say. “But maybe we could break the rules, Natasha?”

“Y/n,” Natasha warns.

“Come on Natasha,” you say. “Why fight this?”

Natasha stands up from the couch and paces back and forth in front of you.

“I have to step down,” Natasha says.

“What?” You ask, standing up. “You didn’t even cross a line! It’s okay, Natasha. We’ll pretend this didn’t happen.”

“I don’t think I can just pretend it didn’t happen, y/n,” Natasha argues. “I have to go. I’ll send a replacement.”

“Natasha!” You call after her, but she is already out of the door.

You sit on the couch with your head in your hands. Natasha drives to the office, fighting back tears of her own.

When she gets there, she finds Carol at her desk. She hands her your weekly itinerary.

“Nat?” Carol asks.

“Take care of her,” Nat replies. She begins to walk away, but Carol chases after her. She grabs her hand and turns her back to face her.

“What happened?” Carol asks.

“I got too close,” Nat shrugs. “We almost kissed.”

“Shit, I’m sorry Natasha.”

“It’s alright. I took an oath, you know. I can’t be her bodyguard now. You’re the next best one.”

“I’ll take care of her, Nat. I promise.”

Carol hugs Nat briefly before she reports to your apartment. You don’t greet her with near as much enthusiasm or politeness as you should. She doesn’t take it personally.

It doesn’t feel the same as she walks you to your car. You realize nothing will feel like being with Natasha did. And you didn’t even date the woman. You zone out on the way to the awards show you are to attend tonight.

“Miss Y/l/n, are you ready to go inside?” Carol asks you.

“I- I really don’t want to go in,” you speak truthfully.

Carol leans up and asks the driver to give you two a minute alone. He agrees and steps out of the car.

“Is this about Natasha?” She asks.

You whip your head around to face her. She wears a knowing look.

“She told you what happened?”

“She did,” Carol confirms. “I hate it for both of you. Nat was really happy, and she is never happy to be security for actors.”

“We got too close,” you sigh.

“What does that even mean?” Carol wonders aloud. “Life is too short to worry about being too close with someone, y/n. Sure, you two should suspend the professional partnership, but there’s no reason you can’t be with her.”

“You think so? She ran out before I could even ask her why not that.”

“You should try and talk to her again,” Carol suggests.

“I don’t even have her real phone number.”

“I have it on good authority that she will be here tonight,” Carol replies. She almost wears a smirk on her face. It reminds you of Natasha’s crooked smile. “And I’m pretty sure the world will be disappointed if their favorite actress doesn’t make an appearance tonight.”

You take a deep breath and straighten your dress. Carol gets out of the car first and helps you out onto the carpet. Cameras flash immediately, and you hear shouts of your name. It all feels a bit overwhelming.

“Just breathe and keep moving,” Carol says.

Your nerves settle as you do all of the required photos and interviews. Once you’re inside, you greet friends in the industry. You catch sight of Natasha out of the corner of your eye, but you don’t see her fully.

The ceremony is decently boring until there’s a loud blast. Before you can even process it, Carol is by your side and covering you with her body. You don’t feel any physical injuries. But it’s another person that lifts you up out of the rubble.

“Natasha?” You ask.

“It’s alright,” Nat says. “I’m getting you out of here.”

“Nat, you’re bleeding,” you say, recognizing the seeping red liquid coming out of her side.

“I’m okay.”

She carries you out of what is left of the building and to the emergency medical tents set up. Nat sets you at one of the tables and turns back towards the building. You reach for her to stay.

“You need help, Nat,” you say.

“Take care of her,” she instructs the EMT.

“Natasha-”

“I have to go get Carol. I’ll be back.”

She runs off before you can get another word out. It’s five minutes before you see her again. Nat is barely moving as she carries her unconscious friend over her shoulder. Clearly, they both sustained life-threatening injuries.

You rush towards where Nat lets someone take Carol from her. She falls to the ground in pain, finally.

“Y/n,” Nat whimpers.

“Help! She needs help!” You yell for someone.

The EMTs are quick to her aid, but she’s already passed out. You sit on the pavement and watch as they tend to her injuries. They tell you they have to take her and the other injured to the hospital. It takes forever to find a ride there yourself.

You burst through the doors and demand to see Natasha. A doctor stops you short of the restricted area.

“Hey, hey, who are you looking for?” The woman asks. She has to place her hand on your shoulder to stop you from barging past her.

“Natasha Romanoff,” you say.

“Okay. Let me find her chart.”

The woman takes forever to scroll through the tablet and find her name. It’s probably just seconds, but to you, it feels like hours.

“She is in surgery,” the woman answers. “I’ll take you to the waiting room, and someone can update you. Follow me.”

You follow the doctor to the waiting room and see a large group of other people waiting there. A lot of people were injured in this accident. Their heads turn when they see who you are.

“Shit,” you mumble to yourself.

You try to escape the crowd, figuring they would realize you’re not in the state to greet fans right now, but they surround you. The voices are loud and jumbled, but you hear one that is different. One that is helpful.

“Hey, come with me,” a woman’s voice says. You honestly don’t even care who it is as long as they get you out of this crowd.

She takes you down the hallway and scans a badge to the restricted area. You follow her into what seems to be a doctor’s lounge.

“My daughter works here,” she says with a smirk. “I’m Maria, by the way. Maria Rambeau.”

“Y/n,” you tell her.

“Yeah,” she says with a small laugh. “Who are you here for?”

“My- um- my bodyguard.”

“Must be some bodyguard if you care enough to be here,” Maria says.

You sit on the couch and close your eyes. You didn’t think you had any physical injuries, but your wrist is throbbing in pain. You sigh.

Maria types something on her phone and then makes you a glass of water. You accept it with your other hand and try to breathe. It isn’t long before another woman enters the room. It’s the doctor from earlier.

“Hey Monica,” Maria greets her. She pulls her into a hug. “How is she?”

“It’s touch and go,” Monica says despondently. “Oh, hi again.”

“Hey,” you say to her. “Can you check on Natasha?”

“Natasha?” Maria wonders aloud, mostly to herself.

Monica nods to her mother and pulls out her tablet again. She regretfully tells you there is no update.

“Can you look up my other bodyguard too? I know she was hurt pretty badly. I don’t know her last name, but her name is Carol,” you explain.

“Actually, that’s who I was just updating my mom about,” Monica says.

“You two know each other?”

“She is- well, she was my partner for a long time,” Maria says.

“Oh, I just met her today. She seems nice, though.”

“She is,” Monica pipes in. “I have to get back to work, but I’ll send someone to look at that wrist, y/n.”

“How did you know?” You ask.

“I can’t give away all of my secrets,” Monica jokes. And then adds, “Mom noticed actually.”

You crack a smile and Monica hugs her mom quickly before leaving the room again. Maria sits on the couch opposite you.

“What happened with you and Carol?” You ask. When she hesitates to answer, you say, “Sorry, I just can’t stop worrying about Natasha and wanted to get my mind off of it.”

“That’s alright,” Maria says. She has a comforting yet confident way about her. You can see her being with Carol. “It’s kind of the age-old story. Everything was fine until it wasn’t.”

“I get that,” you say.

“We were best friends, and then we were more. On perhaps the shortest break from a relationship ever, I messed up and got with someone else. Enter Monica,” Maria explains. “I wouldn’t change the fact that I have her, but things with Carol were different after that.”

She continues, “She never faltered, not really. But she wasn’t really as happy. She always had these big dreams. She had a lot of ‘I’m going to save the world’ attitude about her. And she couldn’t save the world if she was stuck in Louisiana with me and Monica.”

“Was it that you two weren’t enough for her?” You ask. “I don’t see myself as enough for Natasha, but I would still risk it all to be with her.”

“No, I think Monica and I were enough. I convinced her to move on though,” Maria says.

“Why?”

“Well, sometimes in life, y/n, you make sacrifices for the people you love.”

Your conversation is interrupted by a doctor coming in to look at your wrist. They explain it’s just a sprain, but they put you in a brace for comfort. Maria promises to wake you up if there’s any updates, so you let yourself close your eyes.

It’s a few hours later when she wakes you. You stand at the sight of a doctor in front of you. You don’t hear anything, but that Nat is okay, and you can come see her.

You follow the doctor down the hallway to her room. When the door opens, you notice how small Natasha looks. To your surprise, she is awake.

“How are we feeling, Ms. Romanoff?” The nurse that followed you in asks her.

“Better now,” Nat says, smiling at you the best she can.

“The pain medicine kicked in,” the nurse tells you. “You can visit for a few minutes but she’ll need to sleep soon.”

You nod. Then you’re left alone with Natasha.

“You’re hurt,” Nat says with a frown.

“Just barely,” you say. You make your way to her bedside. “You saved me.”

“I’d do it again.”

“The doctor said you should make a full recovery,” you tell her.

“And Carol?” Nat asks.

“I’m not sure, but I did meet her family,” you say. “Or I guess what used to be her family.”

“Maria?” She asks. You nod. “That’s good. They’re good for each other.”

“Are we good for each other?” You accidentally ask out loud. “Sorry. I was just hoping to talk to you before everything happened. I really want this. I really want you.”

Nat tries to process your words through the pain and medicine. It’s a lot right now.

“You don’t need to say anything right now, Natasha. Just get some rest. I’ll be here,” you say.

“Thank you for being here,” Nat says. “Do you think- um could you get in here with me?”

“In the bed? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me, y/n,” Natasha says. “Please.”

You oblige and settle against Nat’s good side. She didn’t say it, but you can tell by the way she rests against you that she wants this too.

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces Masterlist

Status: Coming soon in November 2024

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

Tags: Angst, Character Study, Humor, Action/Adventure, Canon Divergent, Avenger!Reader, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, WandaVision!Wanda, AOU!Wanda, Post-WandaVision, Manipulation, Smut, Dubious Consent, (...)

Word count: ---

Also published on: Wattpad, AO3 (soon)

Author's notes

Part 1 : The Missing Town Chapter 1 - Honey! I shrunk the kids! Chapter 2 - Liar, Liar - 11/20/2024 Chapter 3 - The Neighbor - 11/27/2024 Chapter 4 - The Assistant - 12/4/2024 Chapter 5 - What happens in Westview - 12/11/2024 Chapter 6 - Boys don't grow on trees - 12/18/2024 Chapter 7 - Fix the dead - 12/25/2024 Chapter 8 - The other side - 01/01/2025 Chapter 9 - The Sokovian Witch - 01/08/2025 Chapter 10 - Welcome Home - 01/15/2025 Part 2 : TBA Part 3: TBA

Main Masterlist

[ellswritings]

New Years Eve

Chandler Bing x Reader

TW: Janice lol

»»————-　⚜　————-««

     "So you want to do a no date pact?" (Y/N) asks with doubtful look on her face.

"Yes." Chandler nods aggressively. "No dates. Just us seven."

"You really think you can pull that off?" (Y/N) quips again, not believing Chandler will be able to go through with his proposition.

"Okay, you know what, (Y/N)," Chandler begins slightly aggressive. "I don't need your negative comments, alright? Now who's with me? I say this year, no dates, we make a pact. Just the seven of us. Dinner." He tries his hardest to make it sound appealing.

The rest of the group mumbles in agreement, not truly that interested in his idea. Chandler scoffs, "You know, I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm." He looks at them slightly offended.

Everyone sarcastically begins cheering louder to please his ego. He smiles gratefully and (Y/N) can't help but shake her head in amusement as she takes a sip of her coffee. She doesn't think this pact will last more than a day. Maybe less.

Especially with how things seem to be going for Phoebe and the guy she called out while singing onstage. She smirks and leans back to look up at Chandler, "Still think this whole no date pact thing is gonna work?"

"Oh shut up." He grumbles.

"Hey, that guys going home with more than a note." Joey chimes in, clearly impressed with Phoebe.

(Y/N) snorts out a laugh and sends Chandler a sarcastic thumbs up. The man simply rolls his eyes and goes to sit on the other side of the couch, farthest away from (Y/N).

             »»————-　⚜　————-««

     About two hours later, (Y/N), Rachel, Monica, Ross, Chandler, and Phoebe all sit in Monica's apartment decorating the tree to make it look more festive for the party. (Y/N) and Chandler begin to detangle the golden tinsel as Rachel looks back at Phoebe.

"Pheebs, I can't believe he hasn't kissed you yet. I mean God, by my sixth date with Paolo, I mean he had already named both my breasts!" Rachel laughs lightly until she realizes what she just said. She pauses, "Ooh. Did I just share too much?"

Ross scrunches his eyebrows, "Just a smidge."

"David's like, y'know, Scientist Guy. He's very methodical." Phoebe explains.

"Well, I think it's romantic." (Y/N) smiles.

Monica nods in agreement as Phoebe begins to light up with excitement, "Me too! Oh! Did you ever see An Officer and a Gentleman?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he's kinda like the guy I went to see that with. Except, except he-he's smarter, and gentler, and sweeter... I just- I just wanna be with him all the time. Day and night, and night and day... and special occasions..." She begins to trail off, giving a not so discreet side eye to Chandler.

The man throws his hands up, "Wait a minute, wait a minute, I see where this is going, you're gonna ask him to New Year's, aren't you? You're gonna break the pact. She's gonna break the pact." He announces, looking around at everyone.

Phoebe gasps, "No, no, no, no, no, no." She says getting on her knees on top of the couch. She looks at all of her friends and then gives in. "Yeah, could I just?"

They all collectively gasp, everyone besides seemingly Chandler. (Y/N) looks at him accusatorially as he nods his head to the side, "Yeah, 'cause I already asked Janice."

(Y/N) furrows her eyebrows, not expecting Janice the be the one he ended up asking. While she does feel an extreme sense of bragging coming on for her calling that the no date pact wasn't going to work, this new revelation almost made bragging not worth it.

"What?!" Monica asks, has agape.

"C'mon, this was a pact! This was your pact!" Ross says incredulously.

Chandler shrugs, "I snapped, okay? I couldn't handle the pressure and I snapped."

"Yeah, but Janice?" (Y/N) raises an eyebrow. "That was like the worst breakup in history!"

"I'm not saying it was a good idea, I'm saying I snapped!" Chandler defends.

"Clearly." (Y/N) mutters irritatedly.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Chandler asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Nothing." She replies quietly.

Suddenly the door flies open to reveal an elf Joey with shoes that jingle as he walks. Everyone stares at the man, mouth wide. (Y/N) gasps and begins to cackle as Chandler smirks.

"Hi. Hi, sorry I'm late."

"Too many jokes... must mock Joey!" Chandler exclaims happily.

"Nice shoes, huh? " Joey asks as he wiggles his foot, making the bells jingle once more.

(Y/N) can't believe what she's watching, "You're killing me." She continues laughing.

Rachel looks in between (Y/N) and Chandler, "It's like having two of you." She says to Chandler.

Marcel, Ross's monkey jumps over into the kitchen and knocks over multiple kitchen appliances. Monica looks at her brother exasperatedly, "Ross! He's playing with my spatulas again!"

"Okay, look, he's not gonna hurt them, right?" Ross counters, defending his monkey.

"Do you always have to bring him here?"

"I didn't wanna leave him alone. Alright? We- we had our first fight this morning. I think it has to do with my working late. I said some things that I didn't mean, and he- he threw some feces..." Ross explains upset, making (Y/N) have to hold in her laughter again. She loves the chaos her friends  emanate.

"Y'know, if you're gonna work late, I could look in on him for you." Chandler offers.

(Y/N) scoffs, "Chandler taking care of something. Never thought I'd live to see the day." She smirks playfully.

"You're on one today, you know that?" He quips back.

(Y/N) shrugs happily, satisfied to know she successfully got under Chandler's skin.

            »»————-　⚜　————-««

     "So tell me something. What does the phrase 'no date pact' mean to you?" Ross asks harshly to Monica, who just revealed she got a date for the party.

"I'm sorry, okay. It's just that Chandler has somebody, and Phoebe has somebody- I thought I'd ask Fun Bobby." Monica explains gently to her brother as she takes a seat on the couch.

"Fun Bobby? Your ex-boyfriend Fun Bobby?" Chandler tilts his head.

"Yeah." She confirms.

(Y/N) looks at Chandler, "You know more than one Fun Bobby?"

"I happen to know a Fun Bob." Chandler justifies.

Rachel comes up from behind them all with a mug of coffee for Joey, "Okay, here we go..."

"Ooh ooh ooh ooh, there's no room for milk!" He complains.

Rachel glances at Joey and then at his coffee. She leans down and takes a large sip from the top. "There. Now there is." She shrugs.

"Okay, so on our no-date evening, three of you now have dates." Ross looks in between all of them, still upset about it.

"Uh, four." Joey adds.

"Four." Ross deflates.

"Five." Rachel chimes in.

"Five." Ross hides his head in his hands.

"Six." (Y/N) raises her hand. Taking a sip from Chandler's cup.

"Hey!" Chandler exclaims.

Truthfully, Chandler didn't mind (Y/N) taking a sip of his coffee. He found it slightly endearing. He actually really enjoyed her company due to the fact that both of them happen to be extremely sarcastic.

The brunette man furrows his eyebrows, just now processing what (Y/N) revealed. He pauses, "Wait, you have a date?" He asks her.

"Yes Mr. Bing." (Y/N) responds sarcastically. "Try to hide your shock please." She rolls her eyes.

"I-I didn't meant it like that. I was just interested in hearing you had a date considering two weeks ago you said you didn't plan on dating for awhile." He says, sipping his coffee awkwardly.

(Y/N) tilts her head, "Since when do you pay this close attention to what I say?"

Chandler shrugs, "I don't know..." He mumbles.

"I just can't believe everyone has a date but me." Ross leans back in his chair, crossing his arms to pout.

"Sorry. Paolo's catching an earlier flight."

"Yeah, and I met this really hot single mom at the store. What's an elf to do?" Joey shrugs.

"Yeah, and I met a cute guy at the grocery store when I was shopping for stuff to make my cheesecake." (Y/N) tells him sympathetically.

Ross looks up, "Is it your Oreo one?"

"Yes Ross." (Y/N) smiles.

"You're forgiven." He nods. "But the rest of you are not."

"Oh, c'mon. We'll have, we'll have a big party, and no-one'll know who's with who." Rachel tries to comfort him.

"Yeah, well I'll know. Hey, y'know, this is so not what I needed right now." Ross shakes his head.

"What's the matter?" Monica looks at him concerned.

"Oh, it's-it's Marcel. He's angry with me again. I have no idea why. He keeps shutting me out, y'know? He's walking around all the time dragging his hands..."

"That's so weird, I had such a blast with him the other night." Chandler says, moving his arm behind (Y/N), lightly touching her back. She furrows her eyebrows, but doesn't say anything.

"Really?" Ross looks at him, hurt evident on his face.

"Yeah, we played, we watched TV.. that juggling thing is amazing."

"What juggling thing?" Ross asks as his body begins to sag sadly.

"With the balled-up socks?" Chandler tells him. "I figured you taught him that."

"No." Ross frowns.

Chandler goes to continue once more, but (Y/N) puts her hand on his, "Just stop. You're making it worse." She whispers.

"Noted." He nods, keeping his mouth shut. He leans down to whisper since Phoebe's boyfriends friend walked in. "You know, you never told me what the name of your date was."

"You didn't ask." (Y/N) responds.

"Well, now I'm asking." He looks down at her, his eyes never leaving her figure.

"Well, if you're really that curious, his name is Wren." She whispers back to him.

He looks at her with a scrunched up face, "What the hell kind of a name is Wren?"

"A model name apparently." She responds smugly, taking his coffee from his hands, sipping it once more.

"He's a model?" Chandler looks at her, suddenly losing all confidence.

"Yeah. I figured he could give Joey some good contacts too. So, it's a win-win." She smiles, not noticing Chandler's change in demeanor.

"Yeah." He says grouchily. "Win-win."

            »»————-　⚜　————-««

     (Y/N) walks into Monica's apartment, she smiles at all of her friends as the part is in full swing. She watches as everyone begins to mingle and she makes her way over to the snack table. She places her Oreo cheesecake on the table and grabs her own plate, getting some of Rachel's artichoke dip in the process.

Before she could escape, Chandler and his date Janice come up to the table and the latter gets a big scoop of the same dip (Y/N) just got. "I love this artichoke thing!" She says boisterously and does her signature Janice laugh, making (Y/N)'s eyes go wide.

"(Y/N), you remember Janice." Chandler gives her a fake smile, clearly already annoyed with his date.

"Vividly." She replies with an even faker smile. "How are you?"

"Oh, I am fantastic! Now, you know what's totally amazing? It's just like we have been back together for...like what...like 10 minutes. And-"

"Is that all?" Chandler interrupts, making (Y/N) smirk.

"it's just like we were never apart.   Y'know I mean. Of course, we were... but forgive and forget. Well...forget." She laughs once more when a knock sounds at the door.

(Y/N) nods, and her eyes follow after Monica, begging to be saved. "Well Janice, lovely seeing you again, but Monica needs help... opening the door. So, catch you guys later." She rushes out and follows after her raven-haired friend.

Chandler watches as (Y/N) walks away, his eyes slowly looking over her body. He didn't really notice until now, but she looked absolutely stunning. The dress she was wearing fit her body perfectly. It hugged her in all the right places.

"Oh honey," Janice starts. "You've got a little drool on your chin." She laughs, wiping it off for him.

(Y/N) approaches Monica and a very disheveled Rachel.  She gasps at the sigh of her friend and the bruises that decorate her face. "Oh my gosh! Rachel, honey.. are you okay? Where-where's Paolo?" She asks as her and Monica pull her inside the apartment.

"Rome. Jerk missed his flight." She scoffs angrily.

"And then... your face is bloated?" Phoebe looks at her concerned.

"No. Okay. I was at the airport, getting into a cab, when this woman- this blonde planet with a pocketbook- starts yelling at me. Something about how it was her cab first. And then the next thing I know she just starts- starts pulling me out by my hair! So I'm blowing my attack whistle thingy and three more cabs show up, and as I'm going to get into a cab she tackles me. And I hit my head on the curb and cut my lip on my whistle." She stops and looks around, noticing everyone staring at her. "Oh, everybody having fun at the party?" She leans over to (Y/N) and Monica, "Are people eating my dip?"

(Y/N) and Monica nod as the (h/c) haired girl shows her the plate she has in her hand. Rachel smiles gratefully as Phoebe grabs Rachel's hand and escorts her into her room. (Y/N) huffs and goes over to sit next to Ross and Chandler who both seem to be sulking in the corner.

"What are you boys doing?" She asks with a glass of wine in her hand, sitting right next to Chandler.

"Hiding from Janice." Chandler whispers, peeking around the corner. "I haven't had a moment to breathe since I've been here."

"What did you expect?" (Y/N) chuckles. "It's Janice."

"Yeah." He huffs out, leaning his head against (Y/N)'s arm. She places her hand on his head, playing with his hair mindlessly. Chandler's eyes close as he enjoys the sensation of (Y/N)'s hands in his hair.

The two sit like that for a moment, just enjoying each others company. (Y/N) looks up from Chandler and notices Ross staring longingly at his monkey who seems to be ignoring him.

"You doing okay Ross?" She asks genuinely.

Ross sighs, "Look at him. I'm not saying he has to spend the whole evening with me, but at least check in." He pouts.

Before (Y/N) could respond a loud voice rings out, causing her and true two men to jump. "There you are! Haaah, you got away from me!" She says to Chandler, waking him from his almost peaceful slumber. Janice practically sits on his lap, making him look at her grumpily.

"But you found me!" He imitates her.

Janice looks over at (Y/N) and hands her a camera, "Here, (Y/N) , take our picture." (Y/N) reluctantly takes the camera and begins to snap photos. "Smile! You're on Janice Camera!"

"Kill me. Kill me now." Chandler looks at (Y/N) with pleading eyes.

The woman smiles and sends him a playful wink as she snaps another photo of the couple. "Keep smiling Chandler, you're on Janice camera." She says mockingly.

Another knock sounds through the house and Monica goes to look through the peephole. She smiles excitedly, "Hey everybody! It's Fun Bobby!"

Everyone cheers loudly as Monica opens the door. She goes to greet him cheerily but quickly notes the depressed look on his face. "Hey, sorry I'm late. But my, uh, grandfather, he- died about two hours ago. But I-I-I couldn't get a flight out 'til tomorrow, so here I am!"

Fun Bobby goes towards the couch and begins to talk about his grandfathers funeral. Janice grabs (Y/N)'a attention once more, forcing her to take more photos of her and Chandler.

(Y/N) dejectedly turns back around and comes face to face with Janice kissing Chandler. (Y/N) clenches her jaw jealously as she aggressively snaps a photo of the two kissing. Chandler notices (Y/N)'s posture become much more tense. He pulls away and sends (Y/N) a curious look.

"Oh, I'm gonna blow this one up, and I'm gonna write Reunited in glitter." Janice exclaims happily as she continues to try and maul Chandler's face.

(Y/N) scoffs under her breath and shakes her head. She goes to turn around but Chandler's voice stops her. "Alright, Janice, that's it! Janice... Janice... Hey, Janice, when I invited you to this party I didn't necessarily think that it meant that we-" He gestures between the two of them.

"Oh no. Oh no." The woman puts her hand up, tears forming in her eyes.

"I'm sorry you misunderstood..." Chandler trails off.

(Y/N) can't help but feel happy at the scene unfolding in front of her. She really did hate seeing Chandler with Janice. Or any female for that matter. Little did she know was that Chandler felt the exact same.

"Oh my God. You listen to me, Chandler, you listen to me. One of these times is just gonna be your last chance with me." Janice exclaims as she storms off.

(Y/N), not able to help herself, snaps a photo of Chandler being left on the spot. The man rolls his eyes, "Oh, will you give me the thing." He snatches the camera from her hands making her giggle at his irritation.

"So grouchy." (Y/N) teases as she begins to walk back over to the snack table, Chandler in tow.

"I know this sounds terrible," He starts. "But I am so happy she left." He breathes out relieved.

"You and me both." (Y/N) laughs. "I'm sorry, but her laugh drives me insane."

"You're not the only one." He answers with wide eyes.

"Hey, but at least she's gone now." (Y/N) smiles optimistically.

"And so is my chances of getting a kiss at midnight." He huffs, leaning back in his chair.

(Y/N) shakes her head at him, "Is that really all you're worried about?"

"Yeah, aren't you?" He queries. "Speaking of, I haven't seen your model man date." He tells her mockingly. "Did someone lie about having a date?"

(Y/N) rolls her eyes, and shows him a photo of the man, making his eyes widen at how beautiful he is. "That's not natural." Chandler shakes his head.

"But no, I didn't lie about having a date." (Y/N) stares at him. "He just bailed last minute. Said he took a job in LA at the Marc Jacobs show tomorrow morning so he had to fly out."

"Well, he's a jerk." Chandler states matter of factly. "Leaving you high and dry like that."

(Y/N) shrugs, "I'm not to broken up about it. Plus, I'm right where I wanna be." She smiles softly, squeezing Chandler's hand.

The man's heart leaps in his chest as the beautiful woman in front of him stares at him with her piercing (e/c) eyes. "Really? Sitting here, no date, with me." Chandler raises an eyebrow. "That's where you wanna be?"

"Why wouldn't I want to be here?" (Y/N) tilts her head. "I'd rather be here with you than anyone else."

(Y/N) glances over at the TV, "There's twenty seconds til midnight." She reveals.

"And the moment of joy is upon us." He smiles sarcastically.

(Y/N) listens as the group of people begin to count down. Ross, Monica, Rachel, Joey, and Phoebe seem to have formed their own little group in the other corner of the house. Everyone besides them seem to gather in their own little couples as they begin to count down.

3...

(Y/N) looks over at Chandler and stands up. The man looks at her with a confused look on his face. "What are you doing?"

"Get up." She commands.

2...

"What why?" He looks around rapidly, not understanding what's going on.

"Just get up." She repeats. "Trust me." She extends her hand out for him to take.

"Why do I have a feeling this isn't going to end well?" He asks warily.

"You tell me if it ends badly."

1...

"I don't understand-" Chandler furrows his eyebrows but is swiftly cut off by (Y/N) grabbing him by the collar and pulling him closer to her.

Happy New Year

(Y/N) smashes her lips onto Chandler's. The man sits in shock for a moment before settling into the kiss. He reciprocates her passion and continues kissing her happily. He grabs her waist and pulls her even closer than she was before. He digs his fingers into her side, causing her to gasp. He slips his tongue into her mouth smoothly and she sighs happily. Her hands shoot up into his hair, her thumbs rubbing the back of his head.

"Chandler's kissing (Y/N)!" Ross exclaims. "(Y/N)'s kissing Chandler!" He points over to the couple like a child catching his parents putting presents under the tree.

(Y/N) and Chandler reluctantly pull apart and both of them look over to their group of friends who are staring at them with blank faces. Chandler wraps his arm around (Y/N)'a waist.

"Well, Happy New Year everyone." He clears his throat. "But I think (Y/N) and I are gonna head back to her apartment."

(Y/N) nods rapidly, "Bye guys." She waves as the two frantically escape Monica's apartment, desperate to undress each other.

The group watches after them and Joey sighs, "It's about damn time." He exclaims.

Everyone nods and mumbles in agreement as they go back to the party. The tension between them has been palpable for awhile. It was truly only a matter of time.

Looks like the no date pact didn't do much good.

[cathrrrine]

rafael, sighing as he walks into the precinct: what is it now? i told you not to call me on my day off, benson.

olivia: sorry, we needed all hands on deck. suspect’s in holding, we need— wait, why are you wearing a tux?

rafael: i was in the middle of proposing to y/n.

olivia: you- AND YOU ANSWERED THE PHONE?!?!

rafael: i didn’t want to! she made me pick it up in case it was urgent!

y/n, skipping into the room while showing off her ring: I’M GETTING MARRIED! I’M GOING TO BE A BRIDE! HE’S GOING TO BE MY HUSBAND Y’ALL WOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOO

olivia: so… i take it she said yes?