#and neither does Wanda

[buthearmeouttho]

If I was part of the mcu (Pt. 18)

Melina: so are you going to tell us about your daughter?

Natasha: what- she is not my daughter.

Yelena: you act like she is.

Natasha: I might take a kind of guardian-like roll in her life-

Melina: are you going to adopt her?

Natasha: she’s not my daughter

also Natasha:

Natasha: no, don’t touch that

Natasha: you’re grounded, get over here.

Natasha: I’m on a mission, be good, don’t open the door for anyone, tell Jarvis if you need anything.

Natasha, smiling a little while I’m showing her a cool feather I found on the ground: That is a good feather

Natasha: Be good for Clint, you can stay with him while I’m gone this time.

Back in current time:

Me, coming over: Nat, Nat, I didn’t find that feather you said you saw to get me out of the room so you could have a conversation but I did find this handful of cool rocks and a stick shaped like a pistol:)

Yelena, mouthing to Natasha: If you don’t adopt her, I will.

[dmumt]

scrolled through the majority of a 14k pin minho board last night before the app inevitably crashed and then all my dreams were about looking at minho on pinterest is this a problem

[dahlibae]

MOMMYS SMART GIRL.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

(wanda maximoff x fem!reader)

summary — you finally graduated, finally a real adult, but you’ll always be wanda’s little girl.

warning(s) — drabble: age gap couple, smut, fingering(r!receiving), cunnilingus(r!receiving), tribbing, overstimulation, nipple suckling, mommy wanda, reader experience lil sub drop, aftercare! (18+)

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“You’re such a pretty little baby.” Wanda praised, her fingers sinking deep inside you as your body rocked back and forth against the soft sheets below.

Today had been a very special day for you both. You had finally graduated college, a milestone that had felt so far away when you first walked onto campus, uncertain of what the future would hold. But here you were, already stepping into the next chapter with a corporate job lined up in the city. You couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment, of all the hard work that had led you to this moment.

But as much as this day was about you, it was also about Wanda. She had been your constant, your anchor, since freshman year. When you met, neither of you could have known the journey you’d embark on together. From late-night study sessions in her home office to early morning coffee runs, she had been by your side. She'd supported you through every breakdown, every tear-streaked face as you questioned your worth, your place in the world. And somehow, she always knew exactly what to say to pull you back from the edge.

Through every stressful exam, every late-night cram session, she had been there, not just as a girlfriend, but as your best friend. She knew your weaknesses and loved you anyway. She was your strength when you felt weak and your safe space when the world outside felt too big and too overwhelming. You could still remember the way she held you the night before your biggest presentation, whispering sweetest words of encouragement when you doubted yourself.

She always believed in you, even when you didn’t believe in yourself.

“Such a smart girl. Been so good all year, haven’t you? I’m so proud of you.” She cooed, as she curled her fingers, expertly brushing your walls with a soft pressure she knew you loved. “But you don’t have to use your brain now, okay? Let Mommy take care of you.”

“Mhmm.” You managed to reply, your mind immediately emptied from her soothing words.

“Good girl.” She emphasised with one last kiss to your lips, before trailing down your body to your hips. There, she gently nipped your protruding bones before making her way to your thighs, biting and licking her way up to between your legs. She leaned down; a long, slow lick up your slit, her tongue pushed flat against your clit, as she circled your bundle of nerves.

The added stimulation was almost too much. Your head became even more fuzzy as you whined and twisted in each direction. Unsure of whether you wanted to escape her touch or draw her in closer. You reached down and grabbed her blonde curls, deciding you needed her closer, needed to finish, as you rocked your hips in into her mouth.

It took Wanda all but 3 seconds to recognise your slight tug and she released your clit, climbing back up your body, “What is it, baby? You don’t wanna cum?”

You replied, “Yes, Mommy. Just want you close.”

She should’ve known, whenever you were so deep in this headspace, you had always wanted to feel Wanda close. Restraints hadn’t worked out for you both the first time, leaving you vigorously upset being denied the chance to feel her close as you came.

She hadn’t moved quick enough and you started to whine before she cut you off, “Okay, baby. I’m right here.” She pressed herself over you, before deciding she wanted to come aswell. She moved your legs into position, spread far apart for her body to fit between, before pressing herself down against you. She tested the new position with a few rocks of her hips that had you head thrown back, mewling abashedly into her hair.

“Oh, does that feel good, baby?”

Your response was another moan.

She rocked her hips harder, feeling herself build at the feeling of your clit brushing against hers. The sight of your breasts bouncing as she thrusted into you turned her on even more, her arousal building dangerously fast. She knew she couldn’t be too hard—too rough— with you right now. And so, she slowed, and held you in her arms, tucking her head into your neck as she whispered sweet nothings, “You’re gonna make me cum. You feel so good, baby. You wanna cum with Mommy?”

She felt your hip snap up to hers, chasing the feeling as you began to fall over the edge, and she revelled in the way you curled into her form. She pulled back for a second just enough to be able to fit her hand between as she pressed hard circles against your clit, drawing out your orgasm enough until the pleasure became painful. Your body trembled as you sobbed carelessly into her curls. She was on you again, thrusting fast against your pussy. Her arousal now at its peak, and she too fell over the edge. Her own moans released into your curls.

Her movement slowed but didn’t stop and the overstimulation caused you to cry out. She shushed you gently, stroking your cheek gently as she got off of you, and pulled you into her chest. “Good girl. You did so well, my love.”

You fisted at your eyes, the warm tears burning against your skin.

“You know Mommy loves you, right?” She pulled you closer in, her bare breast flush against your cheek as she offered you one to suckle on, while her fingers wiping the remnants of your tears before pressing light kisses to your face.

You hummed in agreement. Your brain still unable to form proper words and also your mouth now busy attached to her nipple. But your eyes fluttered shut, suddenly not feeling so intense and emotional anymore. The calm buzz that usually followed after sex with Wanda finally set in.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

[randomshyperson]

Hey there! I really loved the ones you did for Wanda, so i was wondering if you'd be down to do one for Natasha with Touching 35, Hugs 17 and Hands 13 (if you're ok with it going that way).

If not, it's totally cool, love your works :)

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

prompt: linking hands together during sex, hugging from behind, kissing their bruises and scars | words: 1.686k | warnings: (+18), shower smut, bottom!natasha, language, mentions of violence.

challenge masterlist | general masterlist

-&-

The only sounds in the surroundings were running water and the news coming from the corner television that Natasha probably left on.

You closed the bedroom door behind you, making just enough noise to announce your presence without startling her - Not that you believed it was possible to sneak around with a black widow.

Natasha left the bathroom ajar and your gaze met hers in the reflection in the mirror. She smiled at first, no sound coming from her lips, neither of greeting nor of pain even though she was treating significant cuts scattered across her body. The purple marks on her back and chest were almost completely visible through that sports tank top she was wearing, and you sighed as you leaned against the door.

She held your gaze. "All it takes for you to show up is a near end of the world, huh?"

The teasing made you smile. You crossed your arms, knowing that if you didn't keep your hands busy, you would touch her. And you needed to know if Natasha wasn't mad at you first.

"Well, at least now I know that I can't leave you alone for five minutes without that leading to the eventual destruction of all mankind." You say, an undertone in the sentence that makes Natasha frown slightly. You sigh before adding; "I just said goodbye to my brother. We both agree that it's best to always have an Asgardian on the team." 

Natasha swallows hard and looks away. She's a master at hiding her emotions, and she does a great job of disguising the news that would easily be the best thing she's heard in weeks. She gives you a small chuckle, looking at you in the reflection. "You two think too highly of yourselves, you know? We took care of half of Ultron's army while your brother was taking a bath in a cave." 

You chuckle, joining in the comfortable push and pull you've always had ever since you first met her, so many years ago when Thor first came to Earth. 

"Is that so?" She hums in agreement, her body language betraying her and leaning towards you. "Because I heard you spent half the time in handcuffs." She raises an eyebrow. 

"Your intel is incorrect," she counters. "Ultron knocked me out, but I had my hands free." You laugh at her irony, shaking your head in disapproval. She smiles, mimicking the gesture before taking a deep breath.

An exchange of glances and the mood in the room changed completely. You looked at her so intently that Natasha thought it best to go stare back to the mirror. Finally, you spoke. "You could have called me." It was a whisper, too gentle or sad to be accusatory. She sighed softly. "I would have kicked Stark's ass in a second. Blown up a few things, or even charmed a few minds. But I would have been here. And you definitely wouldn't have been unconscious." 

She rested her hands on the sink, somewhat tense and visibly tired. "It wasn't anyone's fault." She counters seriously but keeps her tone as friendly as she can. "It's the job, malysha (baby). We go and fight, and come home with a few scratches. I knew how important your mission was. I won’t call you if it isn’t a matter of life or death. I was sure we could handle it, and in the end, we did."

But your gaze was on the large bruise on her shoulder when you replied with a "Few scratches, huh?" 

She gave you a sad smile and with a nod, you knew what she was allowing. 

You can touch me. 

You uncrossed your arms and moved slowly. Natasha sighed as she felt your hands touch her elbows, and then her shoulders until your arms wrapped around her. She was overcome by a sudden urge to cry - all the stress of the last few weeks, all the fights. And all the missing you burning feeling in her chest. She sighed, sinking into the warmth of your embrace for a moment. You kissed her neck and stared at her through the reflection. 

"Let me take a look." You asked and she opened her mouth to retort with a "You don't have to" but you were already hushing her gently, wrapping your arms around her waist to spin her around and have her against the counter. She bit her lip to hide her own reactions, eyes watching you carefully undress her.

The tank top came off first and she could see the darkness in your expression as you took in the new display of bruises. Then her combat pants and she removed her socks as you set the items aside in the corner.

Close again, you traced some of the more superficial bruises on her torso on your way to removing her bra.

Natasha said nothing, the cool air of the room making her body tremble just before it warmed again beneath your touch.

When you bent down to pull her panties to the floor, she let her fingers play with the strands of your hair for a moment.

“You’re such a charmer,” she murmured teasingly. “You’ve barely gotten here and there’s already a naked girl in your room.”

You chuckled, throwing her panties in the corner with the other clothes. "Don't be silly, this is your room." You replied in the same tone and tugged on your shirt, which got stuck in the attempt and Natasha was happy to help between one giggle and another.

She didn't steal any kisses, but you forgot to ask. You were busy exchanging complicity looks and giggles as she pulled your belt and pants away, and you stumbled out of your Asgardian boots.

Finally, you were both naked and under the shower. She turned it on and didn't wait for the water to heat up before pushing you under, and you didn't pull her along in sympathy for the number of bruises she still had.

But the light, teasing ,and joking mood changed as your fingers traced her new scars.

The water did most of the work, of course - Natasha still needed a lot to get used to the mystical side of life, and the existence of gods like you, but she would certainly never stop being enchanted by your abilities. Her body relaxed under your enchanted touch. The water drops would do the healing, but you ran your hands and lips over as much of her skin as you could, slowly as if you were idolizing every inch of her. When you finally got to your knees again with your lips on her thighs, Natasha was already panting, her legs shaking. 

"You're such a tease." She comments with her eyes narrowed, the hot water and the affection of your touch had completely relaxed her. She was aroused, of course, but it was warm, comforting somehow. 

You giggle mischievously, the bruises are completely gone now. The mystical, silvery glow of the water you manipulated to heal her had also completely drained down the drain, and now all that was left was you and your affections.

You looked up, slightly mesmerized by the beauty of the woman in front of you.

Your lack of action made Natasha look down, a smile playing on her lips. 

"Don't be shy now, darling. I'm ready for you."

You let out a shuddering sigh but resisted just long enough to tease her. "You always want me on my knees, Natalia. Is it because I'm royalty?"

She giggled, her dominant hand tangling in your hair and before she pulled you up, she growled an affectionate "Come here you dork."

Despite the urgency, the kiss was tender. At least at first, filled with the longing you felt for each other. Then Natasha's tongue slid to your bottom lip, never asking permission before increasing the urgency of that kiss, and you were grateful that her fragile human body was healed and allowed you to press her roughly against the wall.

She moaned into your mouth, fighting for dominance in the kiss before being overpowered by the sudden friction of your knee against her core. With her hips moving of their own accord, it didn't take long for her to break the kiss with pleading moans, full of need. You never denied her, you never could. She didn't even need to ask and you already moved your knee away to sink your fingers into her, being rewarded with the sweetest sounds and breathless sighs.

The hot water dripped against your back, and the closer Nat got to the climax, the more her body writhed. Natasha liked to kiss you when she came because she knew it drove you crazy to feel her shudder and whine into your mouth when she did it. One of her hands grabbed your face to control the kiss as your fingers danced inside her, filling her completely in a back-and-forth motion that was driving her mad. On instinct, she dug her nails into your back, and you grunted in slight pain, before using your free hand to hold hers against the wall. The brief restraint pushed her over the edge and all it took was a twist of your wrist and she came, whimpering into your tongue.

You kissed her chastely a few times until she could respond properly. She was still throbbing deliciously against your fingers when you pulled back to suck your fingers clean.

Natasha looked at you with dilated pupils, the hand that had been on your face falling to your shoulder next to the one you released.

"I think very highly of you, too, you now. “ She confessed with a rusky worn-out tone. “Just don't get too cocky."

You smile, shaking your head at your girlfriend's post-orgasm state.

Not that you've decided on a label.

"Making you come is all I need to get some compliments, then? Good to know."

"Shut up."

"With pleasure. I happen to have plenty of other ideas to occupy my mouth with."

She shakes her head, a goofy smile on her lips. "Idiot."

"And all yours, baby."

[wandaslovey]

overstimulation versus edging

i’ve been thinking a lot about the differences between edging and overstimulation and why i think natasha favors overstimulating and wanda favors edging.

i think the one thing they have in common just might be one of the most appealing aspect of either of them — and that’s the begging that accompanies it.

the difference though is vastly important, and that’s the reason why you’re begging. do you want it all to stop? or do you need it to keep going?

natasha loves to watch your body squirm. your back arching slightly off the mattress and your moans becoming higher in pitch as you fall over the edge for the first time. as your body starts to relax, coming down from the high, natasha locks her eyes on yours, and delights as she watches panic color your features when you realize she’s not going to stop. she holds you firmly in place as your hips jerk and thrash from side to side, hoping to escape the now extra sensitive stimulation. it doesn’t take long for you to plead with her, whining and writhing beneath her persistent ministrations. hearing your pathetic little whimpers is music to her ears, and the accompanying body quivers and jolts only add to the experience for her. bonus points if tears start streaming down your face while your head thrashes from side to side as if you’re trying to shake the sensitivity away from your body.

wanda also loves to watch your body squirm, just not in the same way. while your hips attempt to squirm out from underneath natasha’s touch, your hips actively seek more of wanda’s touch. she brings you deliciously close to the edge, knowing all your most sensitive spots and just how you like to be played with. every time the coil pulls impossibly tighter, about to snap, wanda ceases her previous ministrations, leaving you high and dry. the resounding whine that echoes through the otherwise quiet room makes her purr in pleasure. does she love watching you cum? yes. but does she love watching your entire being crumble before her eyes each time you’re denied? absolutely. she can’t help but chuckle darkly to herself each time you try and buck your hips into her retreating hand, always calling you her needy little thing. wanda never caves and gives into your pleading — no matter how pretty n pathetic you look or how much you cry and beg. if she decides you’re not cumming — you’re not.

needless to say, neither of these are for the weak. but, you can be a strong, obedient thing for them, can’t you?

[wandaverse]

you could do it on your own (while you’re looking at me)

ceo!wanda x assistant!reader headcanons

tags: dom!milf!wanda, bimbo!pillowprincess!reader, smut, mentions of strap

— when she meets the group of applicants, wanda instantly knows who she wants. you’re a wide eyed fresh of out uni graduate with barely anything on your resume, but you’re exactly what she wants; a pretty girl who’s pliant and can fulfil her less than professional needs and demands

— before you, wanda always kept her office blinds down and door shut. now, she keeps them wide open so she can see you sitting at your desk like her perfect pretty princess right outside

— a few weeks after you’re hired, wanda orders you to wear skirts everyday. “it’s protocol,” she says. you don’t argue and merely nod with an obedient smile (it sends a rush through her body and she has to excuse her to the bathroom)

— when you attend business events by her side, often rich men think they have the right to lay their eyes on you. wanda quickly remedies that by slinking her arm around your waist and pulling you snuggly to her side

— afterwards, wanda learns to start leaving hickies or lipstick stains (or both) all over your neck and collarbones and chest and everywhere else people can see so they know exactly who you belong to

— wanda packs more often than not and you develop a new routine. during her lunch break (or earlier if neither of you can wait that long), you come in and she takes you on her desk, against the window, on the couch, on the floor, or even against the door for everyone outside to hear if they listen hard enough. she doesn’t think there’s a single inch of her office that she hasn’t christened with your touch

— other times when the day is slow or you’re bored (which is more often than not (she really didn’t hire you for your skills or work ethic)), you sneak into her office without knocking. like a bunny, you prance across the room and unzip her pants before sitting on her lap and warming her strap for the rest of the day

— your favourite position though is when you’re seated comfortably on the edge of her desk. even more so on the days she walks into the office wearing a tie. you become obsessed with pulling her into a kiss by the tie around her neck as she slots between your legs and you’re sat on her desk with your skirt hiked up around your waist

— when you get a little greedy with your touch, wanda resorts to yanking her tie off and using it to bind your hands together behind your back. you secretly love the thrill of being hers to play with when she does

— looking up at her with innocent and sleepy eyes in the afterglow, you request that she wears ties more often. and well, who is she to refuse her pretty princess

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi 🙂 could you write a fic about Agatha and Rio both taking an interest in reader and competing for their attention. Who they end up with up to you. Xxx

I got issues w/ wanda stans which ultimately make me hate the character (I don’t want to but you freaks force my hand) by osmosis and I’ll just block you out cuz it’s honestly pathetic to listen to you speak.

You were cute, they both had to admit it, adorable even if they were kind enough to admit aloud. So congrats on being the object of desire of two very powerful and beautiful women. I’m jealous.

Neither Rio nor Agatha were exactly delighted to know that the other was also thriving for your affection and attention. Not. One.bit. They didn’t want to take civil either when it came to you and would boast rather loudly and confidently about how your heart was already taken as their possession.

‘You don’t have a heart to give, so why would you ever delude yourself to the idea that y/n would ever give you theirs on their own terms?’ Agatha said as Rio smirked and shrugged.

‘I do have a heart, it’s black and it beats for them as theirs does for mine, I just have to make them see that even if it means removing you from the picture.’ Rio replied but it only proved to make Agatha cackle as though she was told something funny rather than threatened. She’s had that be the case for a long, long time on multiple different accounts.

‘That’s cute but they were mine from the moment I stepped into Westview during Wanda’s…attempt to play house and acting as their wife,’ Agatha sighs. ‘Let’s just say I was given tastes of them which were sweeter than nectar.’ She smirks when she seeks the smirk on Rio’s lip was wiped off, replaced by a scowl as a perfect visual of jealously and anger overcame the face green witch.

‘Well we’re not in THAT Westview anymore my dearest Agatha,’ Rio began, ‘those memories you may try to hold over my head are long forgotten by them, besides it’s time they moved on with someone with more…potential.’ It was Agatha’s time to look annoyed and angry at Rio as she waves her hand. ‘Bye bye Aggie, we’ll be sure to send the marriage invite.’ She adds sarcastically before leaving.

Agatha, alone in the house she was trapped in for the past three or more years, took a deep breath to compose herself. If Rio wanted you, she’s going have to go through her first, after all you were hers first even if it was under the hex. You were always going to be hers before you were anyone else’s.

Agatha would try to woo you by doing things you supposedly liked during the hex, but once she realises that wasn’t the case anymore and the you in the hex was a charachuer of who you were. She knew that she had some actual work to do in order to win your heart before the black hearted Rio did.

She’d even console in Senior Scratch from time to time, tucking the rabbit in her arms and under her chin as she schemes about how she’s going to swoon you over to her.

‘Flowers did the charm once but it doesn’t exactly scream ‘ don’t make me the other woman in this relationship’ or ‘you chose me once, do that again because it’s the only correct answer.’ Agatha raised the rabbit to her eyes. ‘what do you think? Yay or nah.’

Senior scratch twitched his nose and flicked his ear.

‘You’re right, after Wanda traumatised this town, I doubt it’ll be easy getting to y/n anymore as it is getting a needle out of a haystack, but I’m not going to give them over to her.’ Agatha spat as he mind went to Rio earlier this morning, whispering rather flirty and somewhat vulgar things when told to someone with a particularly filthy mind, into your ear and smiling when you looked at her with wide eyes and a flustered face.

‘You know where to find me sweetheart, so don’t be shy.’ Rio then said as she locked eyes with Agatha as she kissed your cheek, leaving a perfect dark imprint of her lips there for anyone to see.

Rio on the other hand wasn’t afraid to saunter up to you and openly flirt with you while keeping her composure. It came to her as easily as breathing, and besides your reactions always made her smile in accomplishment, so she keeps doing it while handing you a special black rose that she conjured up just for you.

‘What’s this?’you asked.

‘A rose of course.’ Rio replied.

‘I know that but,’ you look from the flower to Rio, ‘what’s the occasion?’

Rio smiled as she walked up close to you, placing her hand over your own as she made you both squeeze the stem of the thornless rose. ‘No occasion, can I not be allowed to gift you something that will never wilt, never die, never look less perfect than the day I plucked it for you.’ Rio answered as she looked deeply into your eyes.

You smiled. ‘Thanks Rio, I promise to treasure it along with the lavenders that Agatha got me.’

Rio’s jaw twitched at the mention of the other witches name but didn’t let her annoyance be shown to you as she smiled tightly. ‘You take gifts from other women now? I’m hurt.’ You chuckled as you rested your hand on her shoulder, cussing a flicker of warmth to flow through her briefly.

‘I didn’t take Rio Vidal to be the jealous type.’ You joked, ‘besides it’s not like I can reject Agatha’s gifts, she can be very convincing.’ You add as Rio internally seethed.

‘Yes, very convincing.’ She chocked out through gritted teeth. Agatha was more of a pain in her ass than she originally thought.

‘Anyways I’ve got to go, Agatha invited me to her house for tea and snacks this afternoon but I’ll see you tomorrow for that abandoned botanical garden you told me about, see you later Rio.’ You bided the green with goodbye as you clutched the black rose to your chest as it emanated a brief green glow.

‘You think you’re winning this fight Agatha, but the wars only just begun.’ Rio spat as she watched Agatha welcome you with open arms, holding you close as she looks at Rio with a look of accomplishment.

‘Come on in dear, I have your favourites ready on the table. Senior Scratch has been missing you as of late.’ Agatha cooed as she booped you on the nose, her hand now sliding to your waist as she guides you into her home that felt familiar and smelled like lavender to ease you into a sense of comfort and warmth.

Who you end up with is up to you. (I’d want both but I’m a sucker for Kathryn Hahn and Aubrey Plaza)

[waitimcomingtoo]

Smell Ya Later

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you get a new body cream that allegedly attracts spiders, and someone else

Masterlist

Whenever you needed a some space from your everyday routines, you packed up your stuff and spent the weekend in your room at the Stark Tower. You had spent the day shopping and picked up a few self care items, including a new body cream you had seen online. Once night had fallen and you felt you had shopped enough, you retreated back to your room and sat at your desk to look at the things you had bought.

“Let’s see how you smell.” You said as you twisted the cap off the body cream. You had barely raised the jar to your nose when Peter appeared the doorway of your room.

“Hey.” He greeted.

“Jeez. You scared me. I didn’t know you were here tonight.” You laughed and put your hand over your pounding heart.

“Yeah, I’m spending the weekend here to give my aunt some time with her boyfriend. But, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was walking by and wanted to come say hi.” He laughed shyly.

“Oh. Well, hi.” You smiled and gave him a little wave.

“Mm. Something smells really good in here.” Peter sniffed the air as he walked into your room. You were pretty sure this was the first tike Peter was actually in your room and that made you gulp.

“Really? I don’t smell anything.”

“Maybe it’s just the air. Girls rooms always smell good.” He shrugged.

“Are you in a lot of girls rooms?” You asked teasingly but were dying to know the answer.

“No.” He chuckled. “But I remember from going over to girls houses for group projects and stuff in middle school. Plus, Natasha’s and Wanda’s room always smells good when I walk by. Not that I go around sniffing everyone’s rooms.”

“I’m starting to think you might.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.

“I don’t, I swear. Did you just go shopping?” He laughed and leaned against your desk. You sucked in a sharp breath over the close proximity and nodded your head.

“I did. But I didn’t get anything exciting.”

“What do you mean? This looks very exciting. What is this?” Peter asked as he held up a fluffy headband with a large bow at the front.

“A headband to keep my hair out of my face when I wash it.”

“Oh. I thought it was a giant scrunchie. Or a really small tube top.” Peter pursed his lips as he turned the headband over in his hands to try and understand it.

“No. Neither.” You laughed shyly as you watched him touch your things.

“What’s this thing?” He asked and held up your heartless curls rod.

“It’s for heartless curls.” You replied, making Peter look at you in confusion.

“You know. Curling your hair. With no heat.”

“This tiny pool noodle curls your hair?” Peter asked in disbelief and held up the limp rod.

“Yes. You wrap it around this and sleep in it. Then you wake up with curly hair.” You explained and wrapped a strand of your hair around it to demonstrate.

“Okay. I’m getting closer to understanding. What role does this thing play in all of that that?” Peter asked as he picked up a claw clip from your desk and opened it a few times.

“You use this to clip the rod onto your head while you wrap your hair.” You informed him.

“Wow. Sometimes I feel like girls live in an entirely different secret world than boys. Like, I just put water in my hair and say I’m ready. But you guys have all these fun fancy contraptions.” He smiled as he played with a scrunchie on your desk.

“Yeah. I guess it is kinda fun.” You shrugged as you looked at all the silly contraptions laid out in your desk.

“Woah. What’s this thing?” Peter gasped and picked up your jade roller that was still in the package.

“It’s called a jade roller.”

“You’re gonna have to explain.” He said and looked to you for help.

“I haven’t tried it yet but basically you put it in the refrigerator and then roll it on your face to decrease puffiness in the morning.” You explained as you took it out of the box.

“And it works?”

“I don’t know. But it feels good.” You shrugged and rolled it up and down your cheek.

“I can’t imagine that medieval looking thing feeling good.” Peter mumbled.

“It does. Come here.” You beckoned him with your finger and he leaned down closer to your face. You smiled timidly at him as you rolled it up and down his face.

“See? It feels nice, right?” You asked in a soft voice.

“I’ve never experienced this feeling before.” Peter said and closed his eyes peacefully.

“You should get one.” You chuckled and rolled it on his forehead.

“I don’t know. Mr. Stark already made fun of me for my Lana Del Ray poster. If he sees this in my room he might think I’m a little weirdo.”

“Who cares what he thinks? He has a “nail girl” for his weekly manicures and pedicures. And I think it’s attractive when a guy cares about his hygiene. Which says a lot about my standards now that I say that out loud.” You realized and thought about that for a minute.

“Maybe I will get one then. Because I care about my hygiene. A lot. More than the other guys you know, I bet.” Peter bragged, making you laugh.

“I would not have a hard time believing that.” You answered honestly.

“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? You’re so pretty.” Peter asked as he gestured to all the things on your desk. Guy cracked a smile at his casual compliment but didn’t make a big deal out of it.

“It guess it’s like you said. It’s fun. I like using these things when I’m having quiet time by myself.”

“I like that. That’s something new I just learned about you. I also didn’t know your last name until right now.” Peter tapped a school paper on your desk that said your full name. You laughed as he stood up and headed towards your door. The moment was ending but it was the first time you really talked to Peter one on one in that way so you still took it as a win.

“Seriously. Something smells really good in here.” He said from your doorway.

“I think I smell it too now. Maybe somethings in the air.” You smiled shyly.

“Must be.” He smirked. “Goodnight, L/n.”

“Goodnight, Parker.” You called after him. Once he was gone, you stayed looking at the doorway with a starstruck smile on your face. You didn’t know what prompted Peter to talk to you all of the sudden but you were thankful to whatever it was.

The next day, you went downstairs for breakfast and found Natasha and Wanda in the kitchen. You stopped to talk to them for a minute as you finished rubbing your body cream onto your elbows.

“Ooo. You smell good. What is that?” Natasha asked you.

“It’s a body cream from that brand Sol De Janeiro. I’ve never used it before but it had good reviews.” You told her as you smelled your wrist to catch the scent again.

“Wow. It’s really nice.” She sniffed you again. “You smell like how Moana feels to watch.”

“Thank you.” You smiled. “But when did you watch Moana?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of luxury sunblock or every flower scented candle at Yankee Candle at once.” Wanda added.

“That description also works, thank you.” You nodded in agreement.

“That reminds me.” Natasha began. “I need to get a new perfume. I’ve become totally nose blind to mine and I can never tell-“

“Hey guys. Mmm. Something smells good. What is that?” Peter burst into the room suddenly full of energy while loudly sniffing the air. You smiled and waved at him and he immediately went over to you.

“It’s this one.” Wanda said and pointed to you. Peter put his hand on your back and stepped closer to you to taken whiff.

“Oh, yeah. It is you. You smell amazing.” He told you.

“Oh, thank you.” You laughed shyly. “It’s just my body cream.”

“God damn. It smells so good.” Peter gushed. “I’ve never smelled anything like that. What’s it called?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I could find out and tell you, though.” You offered.

“Yeah, sure. I probably wouldn’t use it because it smells like a woman angel that turned into a vanilla bean but I wouldn’t keep a jar around just to sniff. It smells amazing.” He insisted and moved close to you to inhale again.

“So you’ve said.” Natasha snorted and gave you a look. You gave her a confused look as Peter put his hands on your hips and nose right on your shoulder to smell you.

“Sorry. I just really love that scent. It makes me feel like that scene in Ratatouille.” Peter said.

“What scene?” You looked over your shoulder to ask him and tried not to scream over how he was holding you.

“When that guy eats the ratatouille.” He said simply. “Holy shit, L/n. You smell like a flower that was dipped in crystallized sugar and then rolled in fairy dust. I could smell you all day.”

Just then, Tony walked by and saw how close Peter was to you. He frowned when he heard Peter sniffing loudly and rolled up the magazine in his hand.

“Down boy. Bad. Off of her.” Tony said as he smacked Peter with the magazine.

“But she smells so good.” Peter whined.

“No. Bad. Bad boy.” Tony shook his head and continued hitting Peter with the magazine.

“Fine.” Peter grumbled. “Bye.”

“Bye.” You waved to him as he left the room. Once you were alone with the girls again, they looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“What?” You wondered.

“How long has that been going on?” Wanda asked you.

“How long has what been going on?”

“You and Peter.” Natasha replied.

“What? There’s nothing going on between me and Peter.” You forced a laugh and looked to the side.

“Well he clearly wants there to be something. I have not seen a boy that down bad since high school. Wait, how old are you guys again? 14?” Wanda asked.

“22.” You corrected. “And Peter is not down bad for me. I’m pretty sure he likes this girl from his school.”

“What’s her name?” Natasha asked.

“Liz.” You answered immediately. “I mean, I don’t know. Who cares?”

“Oh, so the crush is mutual?” Wanda nodded in understating.

“No. Nothing is mutual.” You scoffed. “This isn’t liberty.”

“Oh, you have it so bad.” Natasha laughed at how flustered you were getting.

“Nuh uh. Maybe you like Peter and you’re trying to deflect. Ever think about that?” You asked her.

“Right. I like a middle schooler who cries to Lana Del Ray on weeknights.” She answered sarcastically.

“She has very moving music.” You defended him.

“I think it’s cute that you guys like each other.” Wanda said. “And it makes total sense for you to be together. You’re the same age and have a similar lifestyle. Why not tell him how you feel?”

“Because I don’t like him.” You insisted. “And he doesn’t like me.”

“If he doesn’t like you then why was he just using you like a scratch and sniff?” Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe he just likes to sniff things.” You shrugged. “Maybe that’s his thing.”

“Or maybe you’re his thing.” Natasha replied.

“Do you really think he likes me?” You asked them hopefully.

“I always kinda thought he did.” Wanda admitted. “And After that disturbing encounter, there’s no doubt in my mind. He’s definitely into you.”

“Hm.” You hummed and thought about it. You’d always had a secret crush on him and he had no idea so maybe it was possible that he felt the same way about you without you ever realizing.

You spent the day thinking about what the girls had said. Your thinking was interrupted when Peter returned to your room that night and took a whiff of the air.

“Mm. Smells good in here.” He noted.

“I have a candle on. I mean, lit.” You corrected yourself and pointed to your candle.

“Don’t knock it over and burn your room down. That happened to Brittany Spears, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” You insisted. “I watch all the videos of her spinning in her living room.”

“Same.” He laughed. “What are you doing right now?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“I was gonna go grab food. Would you want to-“

“Yes.” You said immediately. You felt embarrassed for answering so fast but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“Cool. Let’s go.” He said and nodded towards the door.

Thirty minutes later, you were sitting on a bench outside of Delmar’s with sandwiches and bottles of ice tea. Peter picked the place and you followed his lead when ordering because he seemed like a regular.

“And why is it flat?” You asked him as he held up his squished sandwich.

“Because it tastes better the flatter it is, duh. Try it.” He insisted and gestured to your squished sandwich. You gave him a skeptical look before giving it a bite.

“Okay. You might be on to something.” You admitted once you had swallowed.

“Thank you. Every few years my brain lets me have one good idea.” Peter said as he happily chewed his sandwich.

“What was the good idea before this one?”

“Chips in my sandwich.”

“I see. And are these ideas always sandwich related?” You chuckled.

“Wait.” He gasped. “Yeah. They are.”

“Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe you’re a natural born sandwich maker.” You shrugged.

“Maybe I’m Jersey Mike.” He gasped even louder, making you laugh. People were looking but you were too excited to be there with him to care.

“I was gonna say you’re Jared from Subway but I think he’s a pedophile or something.” You told him.

“What? No way.” Peter scoffed and pulled out his phone to google it.

“Oh damn. You’re right.” He realized. “Wow. Even Jared from Subway is a bad guy? Is no one safe?”.

“I mean, you could really say any male celebrities name and there’s like a 50% chance he has charges against him.” You shrugged.

“That’s so true. My record is clean, by the way.” Peter told you. “Until my identity gets revealed. Then I’m looking at a lifetime of property damages and breaking and entering charges.”

“Oh, for me too. I have trespassed more times than I’ve actually been invited somewhere.” You answered. Peter laughed and then looked at you fondly for a minute. You grew self conscious under his gaze and nervously cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry. I keep getting distracted by your perfume.” He admitted. “I can’t get over how good it smells. You smell like the freaking sugarplum fairy.”

“Thank you. You smell good too.” You complicated and nudged him a little.

“That’s because I stole some of Mr. Starks super expensive cologne before we left. He called me to his room once just to show me the price tag on it. I thought it was his social security number at first. And the bottle is so small. I thought it was stupid to spend so much on such a tiny bottle but now that I’m wearing it I feel like I really want to fire someone.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever felt that feeling.”

“Me either. Until today. I smell like a whole different tax bracket right now and I don’t know if I can go back to my Axe Dark Temptation spray. I don’t want to smell like the bourgeois anymore.”

“Thats so funny.” You chuckled. “Do you always take his cologne?”

“Never. Just for today because I knew I was gonna ask you to hang out.” He said before taking a bite. You paused and sat with the implication that he did something just to impress you.

“I’m flattered to know you stole for me.” You said with a coy smile.

“Well you always smell amazing so I didn’t want you to think you were hanging out with some stinky rat.” Peter explained.

“I would never say that about you. I must say, you’re the best smelling rat I’ve been around.”

“Since we live in New York, I’m taking that as a compliment and letting it inflate my ego.” Peter warned you.

“Your ego must be pretty big already though, right? If I was a guy your age who looked like you did and could do the things you can do, I’d be super annoying about it. Like, raise my hand in class using two fingers and ask a question that’s just a roundabout way to show off how intelligent I am kind of annoying.”

“Looks like me? Can you elaborate on that, please, miss?” He asked with a cheeky smile.

“You know.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Giant muscles. Giant brown eyes. I don’t know much about spiders but giant something else, I’m guessing. That spider bite served you well.”

“Stop. I’m shy.” Peter laughed and covered his face with his hands

“Come on.” You groaned. “You have to know you’re cute.”

“My aunt says I’m a handsome little lad.” He said and batted his eyelashes to make you laugh.

“She’s right.” You laughed. “But seriously. If my arms looked like that I’d only wear tight white shirts and ridiculously skinny jeans. And obviously slick my hair back like a Greaser. A full Soda Pop Curtis, if you will.”

“Oh, so you’re an Outsiders fan? This is me trying to maintain a regular conversation while hoping my heart rate returns to normal after being bombarded with compliments, by the way.” Peter said with a rosy blush on his face.

“I love The Outsiders. I’m still chasing the high I felt when my teacher played the movie for us in 5th grade and Soda Pop came out of the shower in the beginning. I think all the girls in that room remember that moment. I haven’t felt that way since.”

“Really? Never?”

“Maybe once or twice.” You smiled fondly at him.

“Well, to answer your question, I am actually a total loser at school and have an ego the size of a walnut. No one knows I can do the things I can do so I’m just another goofy goober on campus.”

“How can you saw you’re a goober when you’ve probably saved the life of every person in your school? More than once I might add.”

“Because I didn’t do that stuff. Spiderman did.” He explained. “When I’m on campus, I’m just me. It’s the only way to protect my identity. I have to let all the credit go to someone else.”

“Okay, I get not taking credit to remain humble and anonymous and what not, but what about all the other cool stuff you can do? I’ve seen you move a refrigerator with ease and casually run a mile without breaking a sweat. How do you resist the urge to show off all the time?”

“Because I wasn’t some sports star before I was bitten so it would be highly suspicious if I showed up one day and started dunking on everyone and breaking their ankles and third sports term. I only want to use my abilities to help people. Not to get popular.” He shrugged. As he spoke, you felt your crush on him turned into full blown infactuation. You’d always liked him from afar but now that you were getting to know him, he was even better than you thought.

“You’re better than me. I’d be doing backflips down the hallway and climbing on the walls. And if I got in trouble, I’d just be like “remember when New York wasn’t taken over by aliens? You’re welcome, bitch.” And then I’d swing away and probably kiss a cheerleader. Maybe even two.” You told him.

“Uh uh. My powers have definitely not gotten me any kisses from cheerleaders.” He laughed and shook his head.

“So you don’t have a girlfriend or anything?” You asked and couldn’t help but smile.

“No. My roster is empty. And I wish I could blame that on the Spiderman stuff but I can’t. I’ve never been lucky in that department.”

“I don’t understand that. You’re so…” You trailed off when you realized you were about to say too much. Peter looked at you with a coy smile and raised his eyebrows.

“So?” He asked.

“So annoying.” You insisted. “And ugly, actually.”

Luckily, he understood that you were saying the opposite of what you meant and smiled in appreciation.

“What about you? You must have a boyfriend and 10 guys lined up ready to take his place the second he falters, right?”

“11 guys.” You corrected.

“Damn. I’m sorry. I should’ve known.” He said and held up his hands in defense.

“It’s okay. How could you have known? But, um, no. No boyfriend.” You told him and watched carefully for a reaction.

“So you don’t like anyone at your school?”

“Not at school, no.”

“Oh. So there is someone.” He smirked.

“There may or may not be a boy. But he likes someone else so it doesn’t even matter.” You waved your hand in dismissal.

“Does he know you like him?” Peter asked. Your knees and elbows were touching as you sat together on that bench. You couldn’t help but notice he had gotten closer and closer as you talked.

“No.” You replied as you stared into Peter’s eyes.

“That’s obviously why he likes someone else.” Peter insisted. “I guarantee that if he knew he had a chance with you, he’d forget all about that other girl.”

“I don’t know. Do you really think that?” You asked skeptically.

“Definitely. He’d be crazy not to go for someone so…” He trailed off to give you a taste of your own medicine.

“So?” You shook his arm to urge him to continue.

“Ugly.” He replied. “Really, really ugly. Not pretty at all. Definitely not funny or charming. And a stinky rat. And ugly, if I didn’t mention that before. Ghoul like, even.”

“Thank you.” You smiled warmly, knowing he meant the opposite of what he was saying.

“You’re very welcome.” He smiled back. “So when are we doing this again?”

You did it again the next night, this time at a food truck you liked, and then a few days after that. That’s when Peter started giving you his weekends. You started hanging out more and more and grew to be close friends in just a short time. You lived at home during the week and could look forward to Peter’s almost nightly visits while he was on parol just to sit in your window and talk to you. He was so so consistent that you started leaving your bedroom door open just for him.

“I’m here. Don’t be naked.” Peter said as he climbed through your window one evening.

“I just got out of the shower. What if I was naked? Then what?” You asked as you rubbed your body cream into your skin.

“Then we’d have a funny story to tell at parties.” He said as he pulled his mask off. You couldn’t help but smile at the way his messy curls stood up on his head.

“Oh yeah? And what’s so funny about me being naked?” You teased him as you squeezed the excess water out of your hair with a towel.

“That’s not the funny part. The funny part would have been when my eyes sprang out from my head on slinkies and made an audible “boing-oing-oing” sound. Right before my head exploded and left a smoking stump on my neck.” Peter told you, making you playfully roll your eyes.

“Oh wow. Very Tom and Jerry of you.” You chuckled.

“A full Tom and Jerry. The only thing missing would be the little blue birds and or angles flying around my head but I didn’t say that one because it’s typically reserved for traumatic head injuries.”

“You’re stupid.” You laughed and shook your head endearingly at him. Peter smiled back at you

“You’re stupid.” He chuckled. “You smell good.”

You really liked being friends with Peter. The more time you spent with Peter, the more you found you could talk to him about anything. He seemed so interested in every little thing you said. You worried your crush suddenly taking an extreme interest in you might be too good to be true, so you were determined to enjoy it while it lasted. And do far, it had lasted two months.

“Hey you two. Are you gonna be hungry…” Tony trailed off when he assessed the situation in front of him. You and Peter turned your heads when you heard Peter’s bedroom door open, giving Tony a full view of the green face masks you had covering your faces. You were sitting on Peter’s bed and applying masks to each others faces so your hands were full of the green goop as well. Tony looked back and forth between the two of you for a minute but eyes kept returning to the giant pink bow headband Peter had on to hold his hair back.

“Oh.” Tony nodded. “Hm. Okay.”

“Hi Mr. Stark.” Peter waved.

“I was gonna ask if you guys were hungry. But now I don’t know how to feel.” Tony said with a blank expression.

“We’re okay. We door dashed some food. Thank you, though.” You replied.

“No problem. Try not to have too much fun, ladies.” Tony snickered and closed the door.

“He doesn’t get us.” Peter rolled his eyes and smeared some of the face mask across your forehead. You smiled at the mention of “us” and stared into his eyes.

“He wishes he was gonna have clarified skin and minimized pores in 45 minutes.” You agreed.

“45 minutes? Oh shit. We should’ve brought snacks.”

“I can go grab some. I need to pee anyway.” You told him and hoped off his bed. You hit up the kitchen after the bathroom and raised the refrigerator for some snacks. When you shut the refrigerator door, Natasha was standing there watching you.

“So. Having another stay at home date with Peter?” She asked and pointed to your face mask.

“It’s not a date.” You rolled your eyes. “We’re just two friends hanging out.”

“Right. And do you share clothes with all of your friends or just the ones you don’t have feelings for?” She asked sarcastically.

“He wasn’t wearing my pants that day, okay?” You sighed. “He just asked me to embroider little molecules into his jeans and then wanted me to sign my name. Which is very normal for two friends to do.”

“So that’s not his sweatshirt you have on now?” Natasha asked and pointed to the Museum of Natural History hoodie you had on.

“It is. But-“

“But. Mm hm, yeah?” She cut you off with sarcastic interest in her voice.

“Yes, but.” You stated. “It’s too small on him now that the bite made him all big and muscly. But his uncle bought it for him and it was too sentimental to throw away so he let me have it.”

“Oh. So he gave you an article of clothing that his dead uncle gave to him? That’s very platonic of him.” Natasha said before cracking a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re implying.” You played dumb.

“I’m implying that you two are dating but pretending you’re not.”

“What?” You forced a laugh. “We are not dating.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re not fooling anyone with that. Why don’t you just call a spade a spade and make out already?”

“Because it’s not a spade. Your mom’s a spade. We’re just friends.” You insisted and felt glad your face mask was covering up your embarrassed blush.

You went back to Peter’s room with the snacks and pushed Natasha’s comments from your mind. Peter could tell that something was bothering but he didn’t push it.

You spent the next few nights at home but headed back to the tower to spend the weekend. You knew Peter would be arriving later that night so you got ready in your room while you waited. You scrolled on your phone while you did your makeup and came across an article on the body cream you’d been wearing lately. You started to read it but got distracted by the sound of people in the downstairs. You left your room and took the elevator down to see if it was Peter, but found Wanda and Natasha instead.

“Oh, hey. I was just telling Nat I got that cream you told us about. It just smelled so good on you.” Wanda told you.

“Did you? Tell me what you think of it. It works really well but I think I have to stop wearing it. I was just reading online that apparently it attracts….” You trailed off and pulled out your phone to show Wanda the article. You got distracted by a text from Peter telling you that he had arrived. You furrowed your eyebrows and stared at the text as things started to make sense in your head.

“Attracts what?” Wanda asked you. You looked up to answer her but got distracted by Peter walking in.

“Spiders.” You told her as you stared at Peter.

“Hey, Y/n.” Peter greeted with a smile. “Come with me up to the roof. I have something to show you.”

Peter took your hand and started pulling you towards the elevators. You were still lost in thought but regained composure enough to look at the girls while you were being pulled away.

When you got to the roof, the sun was just beginning to sink into the city skyline, making for a peaceful atmosphere. There were some snacks set out and a sheet you recognized from Peter’s room.

“What’s this?” You turned to him to ask. He was already staring at you and watching carefully for a reaction.

“You said you’d been so busy with homework lately that you don’t even realize when it becomes night so I thought we could take a mental break together and watch the sunset.” Peter explained with a sheepish smile. You lit up when you heard his plan and forgot all about the article.

“You planned this for me?”

“I didn’t want you to work yourself to death. You’re gonna do fine on your finals. You’re the smartest person I know. Other than, like, the two super genius’s I know. But you’re definitely up there.” He assured you. You broke into a smile and threw your arms around him to thank him. He stumbled back a little a before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back.

“Thanks, Peter. This is really sweet.” You said and pulled away just enough to look at him. You stayed with your arms wrapped around each other as the sun began to set around you.

“You’re very welcome.” He said with a fond smile. You stared into his eyes and felt his magnetic force pulling you towards him. Peter’s eyes dropped down to your lips before a rosy blush covered his face. You couldn’t believe what was about to happen was actually happening. He started to lean in and cracked a smile just before your lips could touch.

“God, you smell amazing.” He whispered to you. You snapped out of your trance and took a step back from him.

“Oh my God.” You gasped. “I knew it.”

“Wait, what? Knew what?” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to look as disappointed as he felt that the moment had ended.

“You don’t even like me. You’re just attracted to my delicious smelling body cream!” You shouted and pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“Woah, what? I have been accused of so many things but that is truly a first.” Peter said and held up his hands in defense.

“I bet this whole thing was a set up just so that you could sniff me!” You gasped and pointed his picnic.

“What are you even talking about?” He matched your tone and pulled his hair in exasperation. You put your hand over your heart to catch your breath as you looked between him and his setup. Everything made sense now. Peter started talking to you the moment you opened up that jar of body cream. He only wanted to hang out with you once you started wearing it. And as you stood there on the roof with him and realized it never had anything to do with you, you felt gutted.

“I thought…I thought you liked me.” You said in a quiet voice as your face sank with disappointment. Peter turned red all the way to his ears and laughed in embarrassment.

“I do like you.” He said quietly.

“But not for me.” You shook your head. “For the way I smell.”

“What? That’s crazy?” He laughed is dismissal. You rolled up your sleeves and walked back over to him to hold your arm under his nose.

“You like this.” You told him.

“Damn, that smells good.” Peter whispered as he took in your scent.

“See? It’s my body cream. It attracts spider. Whatever is lingering in your DNA from the bite makes you attracted to this specific scent.” You grumbled as you pushed your sleeves back down.

“Huh. That explains why I got a boner in Sephora the other day.” He realized.

“Why were you in Sephora?”

“I was getting us more face masks. I even used your email so you could get the points.”

“You did?” You asked and cracked a smile. Peter looked at you sympathetically and took a step towards you.

“I had a whole night planned for us. I was gonna bring you up here to watch the sunset. And I brought snacks you like. Even disgusting Salt and Vinegar chips.”

“I love those.”

“I know you do, for some odd reason. And once the sun had set, I was gonna go downstairs with you to do the face makes. I got you a panda because you like them and mine looks like Hello Kitty, see?” Peter said and he pulled the masks out of his bag.

“Very impressive selection.”

“I know. Once we had them on, I was gonna tell you that you’re the only person I don’t feel like I need to wear a mask with. Or you’re the only person who makes me feel the way I do when I’m wearing my mask. In parenthesis, my Spiderman mask. Which implies you make me feel invincible. I don’t know. It was gonan be some mask related metaphor that I was hoping would come to me in the moment.”

“Why did you need a mask related metaphor?”

“So I could ease the tension and segway into telling you that I like you.” He admitted with a timid smile.

“You do?” You asked skeptically. Peter nodded his head and put his hands on your shoulders.

“I wouldn’t do all this for you just because I liked the way you smell. And believe me, I love the way you smell. If I could shrink you down using the Honey I Shrunk the Kids machine and shove you up my nose, I would. But I like a million other things about you too that don’t involve the olfactory bulb.”

“Then how come we only started hanging out once I started using the body cream?”

“Okay, I’ll admit, I got a whiff of the body cream and basically floating in the air down the hallway into your room like a cartoon pig being lead to a pie.” Peter prefaced. “But that was just the first time you wore it. It gave me the confidence to ask you to hang out which is something I’d been wanting to do since we met. And once we started hanging out and I learned all these new things about you, I liked you even more. Which I didn’t know was possible because I was already listening to Lana Del Ray and pretending you wrote the songs about me. When you started smelling divine, that was just the icing on an already big cake. I’m talking Cake Boss level size cake that’s mostly made of Rice Krispies and plastic tubes.”

“So now I’m divine? I thought I was ugly and not funny or charming at all.” You teased him as you stepped even closer.

“You’re right. I still find you very unattractive and don’t want to be your boyfriend and l definitely don’t want to kiss you-“

You cut him off by pulling him by the shirt into a kiss. He stopped talking immediately to kiss you back, putting his hands on your face to pull you closer.

“You smell so fucking good.” He growled and pulling you closer by the waist. You giggled against his lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You and Peter eventually retired to the sheet to watch the rest of the sun set. You laid on his chest and listened to his heart beating while the scent of his cologne filled your nose. You went back downstairs hand in hand once the sky was dark and passed by Wanda in the living room.

“Goodnight, Wanda.” You smiled at her as you and Peter walked by.

“Goodnight.” She replied and waved her fingers. Peter stopped suddenly in his tracks and looked at Wanda.

“Woah.” He smiled. “You smell really good, Wanda. What do you have-“

“Oh, no you don’t.” You cut him off and pulled him by the back of his shirt away from her.

“It’s the cream.” Peter said in defeat. “I’m defenseless to the cream.”

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[notafunkiller]

Bucky Barnes is the best super soldier

How it was subtly emphasized in The Falcon and The Winter Soldier:

He always holds back

With the Flag Smashers and even with John Walker. We could see the difference in the last 3 episodes. Sebastian Stan did an incredible job making it clear in a subtle way.

I want to mention that famous "Stay there" scene, and how it was visible Bucky was not punching as hard as he can in the fight with John.)

This is the thing about Bucky, he isn't after the kill, he just does his part. He doesn't try to show off his skills or that he is a good guy. He doesn't try to play the victim role, either. In the scene where Zemo fake-activates the Winter Soldier in Madripoor, he just makes a point. He's obviously not even trying hard.

If he wanted those in the club dead, they would be. But his self control was wow. Sebastian acted so well, his exes said everything.

*And to be honest, even when he was TWS, he could have killed everyone, but he didn't. He could have killed all of the Avengers in Civil War is they were his mission, but they weren't. This is how Natasha survived when she met him, too. It depended on what kind of mission he had (if he wasn't allowed to be seen, then the witnesses would die too, but otherwise? He didn't bother).

2. His skills

People tend to forget how smart and good at making strategies Bucky is. He's been fighting (even though he hates fighting and never wanted to be in the army) for years before he was even captured by Hydra. And this is the reason why government still want him, after all. They can use his strategies as a leader (*cough* Thunderbolts *cough*).

In the last episodes of TFATWS, we could see how he outsmarted everyone. Karli was so terrified of him.

3. Karli Morgenthau

And talking about Karli, the phone call was interesting:

She asked him if he's not tired of fighting for the wrong side, and then told him she's fighting for something bigger than herself.

"And with all the bodies you've collected, have you ever been able to say the same?"

The first thing I wanna point out is how everyone talks about the deaths Bucky caused when he was controlled by Hydra, but everyone ignores the fact that all the Avengers killed far more, but since we consider them the good side, we just don't care.

Clint, Tony, Steve, Wanda etc. They all cause(d) far more deaths than "two dozen" (known assassinations - to quote Natasha), and neither was controlled. The double standards are something else, especially for Clint. (One of the reasons why Tony was on the other side in CW was because of his guilt, after all.)

The second point is how Bucky's answer says a lot more than we might realize at first:

"You don't think I ever fought for something bigger than myself? That's all I ever tried to do, and I failed twice."

Even as TWS, Bucky had to be convinced he is on the right side, that what they do is to save the world, to give "the world the freedom it deserves".

Even brainwashed and put to sleep all the time, he had to be lied to. Bucky as TWS was a victim too. He is not a victim only because he didn't have memories or control, but also because they lied to him and used him as a toy. That milk scene is so loud. (And I am gonna talk about it in a different post). He had no rights, no choices. He was used to being tortured.

[And I wish they explored it more. We deserved and deserve a WS film - maybe with him in Romania getting back his memories, writing in his journal etc.]

"You think your cause justifies all this death, but in the end, the nightmares won't go away. You're gonna remember all the ones you killed. Trust me. Don't do this. Don't go down this path."

Despite being on opposite sides, Bucky still said this to Karli, trying to help her, to make her see the big picture, sharing how he felt and feels.

He is on "the right side". He is a hero, and Bucky being thanked by that man for saving everyone's life was touching.

4. Baron Zemo

You can see how smart, strong, and rational Bucky is when he decides to break Zemo out of jail (his plan was amazing too), risking so much (his relationship with Wakanda people and his own freedom) to get his help for the mess. He puts the cause above his own (huge) trauma. And this makes that moment in Madripoor even more disgusting (he is treated as an object, as a toy):

Zemo: Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum. And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.

The way he keeps his composure, reacts and manages the situation... absolutely incredible!

This conversation also says a lot:

Zemo: The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path.

Bucky: Maybe you're wrong, Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve.

Zemo: Touché. But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?

Bucky positions himself below Steve, who's considered a good hero, a good person... like no other. But Steve never had to go through what Bucky did: from being kidnapped like that, to being tested on, to falling off the train, to being tortured, and used, and brainwashed for decades, and put to sleep when he was not needed and having n "keepers".

Also, interesting how all Steve wanted was to fight (for a good cause, but still)... and fighting still means violence, meanwhile Bucky never wanted to fight, not even before becoming TWS, in the army (and yet he is still great at fighting. And he is deadly, even when he holds back.). All he wanted was peace.

Despite not getting the "perfect serum", despite being brainwashed, put to sleep, and forced to fight for decades, he is still himself. He never gave in to the dark side for real. He fought in his own way. The first thing he did when he woke up was to choke the Hydra guy with a whole new arm!

Bucky is so underrated: from his intelligence and fighting skills, to how human he is. Being flawed, keeping his sassiness and charm from the 40s, but getting more mature and carrying his past on his shoulders... he's so relatable and real. And every day, he shows Zemo he is wrong.

The show he makes in his final scene with Zemo is absolutely fantastic. He doesn't just prove the point he isn't defined by the serum and Hydra (AND not even by Steve, thanks to Sam. His speech made him realize the important thing about himself: that he decides who he is, not others - even those who know him before becoming TWS- "And this might be a surprise, but it doesn't matter what Steve thought. You gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are." parallel to "Steve believed in you. He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield, that is… that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing. [...] So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me."), but also that he is superior.

When Zemo tells him that he decided to let him alive (probably so he can kill Karli) and basically calls him a killing machine: "programmed to kill", Bucky plays the role, lets Zemo talk him into killing Karli, and then Bucky watches him waiting for his own death.

[Also, Bucky's line: Imagine my relief is hilarious.]

The acting was incredible: the shock on Zemo's face and the amusement and somehow relief on Bucky's after he pulls the trigger and lets the bullets fall... He proved him he's THE standard of the super soldier. Because despite everything he went through, he is the best.

Zemo telling him to cross his name off felt like a fresh start (+ telling Nakajima the truth).

5. John Walker

John, on the other hand, is lucky Bucky is an understanding person. He gets what is like... the pressure, the environment, the loss, and even tries to help.

Bucky: Don't go down that road. Believe me, it doesn't end well.

John: I'm not like you!

Of course he is not like Bucky, because Bucky has control. He is not killing to get revenge in a cynical way.

"That serum doesn't exactly have a great track record."

John kept judging Bucky every time they spoke, somehow placing himself above this "broken" man.

"This is all really easy for you, isn't it? All that serum runnin' through your veins. Barnes, your partner needs backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?"

This is so wrong on every single level, especially because Bucky didn't choose to take the serum, and he always had his friends' back. He's loyal and ready to sacrifice himself.

The "funny" part about this is John ending up taking the last super soldier serum vial. All the judgement, the disgust, the patronizing tone, just to do that. Plus, of course, to kill someone with the shield.

(John proves Zemo's point about super soldiers, and Bucky does the opposite.)

And what is it easy for Bucky anyway?

He's under government conditions (so CACW coded), he has a vibranium arm that I bet the government would try to take after he dies (HOPEFULLY WHEN HE'S 200 YEARS OLD IN HIS BED, as Sebastian wants too) if he isn't in Wakanda, he is haunted by nightmares (which also can mean he is still Hydra's TWS in another universe as we found out from Strange), and he has to learn how to live for real. He's smart, charismatic, has values and principles, and he's incredible.

We need to see his version of TWS going after everyone Hydra helped. TWS is him, a part of him, and doing that on his terms, having control over it would help him heal.

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒔𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

part 7 of 🌧️welcome to hell🌧️

summary - time passes and you finally find your happiness, but does it last for long?

warning - smut, swearing, near death, angst, bad thoughts, doubt, dirty thoughts, slight violence, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, headers by me.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Time had passed since Steve had apologised, things were slowly getting better. You had found friends that you felt you could trust, you were currently standing with Nat and Wanda. You had stopped listening to the conversation a while ago when your eyes had found Steve’s, you didn’t mean to but everything seemed to disappear when you looked at him. 

You could see his expression was serious from where you were standing but as his head turned and his eyes connected with yours. You liked how it softened slightly, he looked at you differently from how he had looked at everyone else and you could feel yourself falling. 

“He looks at you differently.” Nat’s voice pierces your mind.

You hum, not daring to remove your eyes from his. “How does he look at me?” 

Wanda giggles, her eyes flickering between you two. “Like he never wants to look away.” You felt your heart flutter as those words leave her lips.

A similar conversation takes place with the men across from your group. 

“Damn, the way you look at her…” Sam whistles. “You got it bad.” 

Steve’s brows furrow, “How do I look?” 

Bucky smirks, patting his back. “Like you would kill for her.” And Steve would, he knew he would do anything for you. 

Steve felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest when you smiled at him. He had never seen someone with the prettiest smile, not until he met you. He could feel his lips lifting on their own, returning your sweet smile, feeling like he accomplished something when you shyly look away, bottom lip between your teeth holding back a grin. 

You deserved the world and Steve wanted to give it to you. 

“I’m going to do it.” He stated, causing Bucky and Sam to turn their heads his way. “I’m going to finally ask Y/n out.” He looks at them and grins. 

“That’s great, man! When are you gonna do it?” Sam pats his back, while Bucky looks at his best friend with a smile. 

“Now.” That’s all Steve says as he’s already heading towards you, not being able to wait any longer. When he stops in front of you, he swears that everyone can hear how loud his heart is beating. But he didn’t care, all of his attention was on you. “Hi.” Steve sounded like he had run a mile, but you just seemed to knock the breath out of him. 

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with affection. He looked so good in front of you. “Hi.” Why did you sound so out of breath?

Neither of you notice Nat and Wanda slowly moving next to Bucky and Sam who watch you guys with giant smiles. 

“Hi.” Your smile widens as Steve repeats himself and you raise a brow. How could someone be so cute and handsome at the same time? So rough but soft? Steve blinks, his cheeks turning pink as he realises he’s already said hi. “Go out with me?” His eyes widen when he blurts out. “I mean, would you like to go out with me?” 

“I would love to.” Your smile never left your lips and only he seemed to be able to do that. 

Steve nods with a smile before his mouth drops open. “Wait really?” You giggle, nodding. “Good, great! Yes.” He stumbles before clearing his throat. “Now?” 

It was your turn for your eyes to widen. “Now?” You nervously look down at your outfit. “I’ll need to change… I don’t think I should wear this for our first date.” 

Steve shakes his head. “You don’t have to, I mean… You can if you want, but I think you are beautiful in anything.” His eyes don’t leave yours and suddenly you no longer care about what clothes you are wearing.

You lick your lips and turn, beginning to walk off. “Let’s go, pretty boy.” You faintly hear your friends cheer as Steve follows like a lovesick puppy, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. You let out a startled gasp when he suddenly appears beside you, forgetting about his long legs and how he manages to move so fast with them. 

Your chest tightens when you feel his hand softly grasp yours, his fingers fitting so perfectly with yours. He squeezed your hand gently as though he knew how nervous you were. 

Steve had led you to his car, opening the door for you before walking around to the drivers side. You felt the need to ask him where he was taking you, it was right on the tip of your tongue but when you looked at him. You no longer cared, you just wanted to be anywhere he was.

You watched the scenery pass by as Steve drove before he turned into a parking lot. “I just have to grab a few things and then we will head to our date. Does that sound okay?” He looked at you and it felt nice that he wanted to make sure it was okay with you before he did it. You hadn’t experienced this before.

You nod but Steve shakes his head, cupping your cheek softly. “Words, Sweetheart.”

You don’t think you should be feeling what you’re feeling on a first date. Nope, definitely not. You couldn’t jump his bones on a first date, it’s not right. But it’s the only thing you could think about as you stared into his eyes. 

Steve chuckles, his thumb stroking your skin. “Unless you want to come with me?” 

You shake your head, you definitely wouldn’t be able to walk or think straight. You’d need a few seconds without him to be able to calm yourself. “N–no, I’m okay. That sounds okay to me.” Would it be so bad to ditch the date and have him fuck you into the backseat? 

Steve nods, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead before exiting the car with a promise he’ll be quick. The moment the door shuts, you lean back and let out a breath, watching him walk into the shop. Probably wasn’t the best idea as your eyes next left his back or arse.

“Fuck me, how am I going to last?” Your eyes squeeze shut as you try and divert your thoughts somewhere else. “He’s so sweet… I just want to pin him down and ride him.” You huff. “That’s definitely not helping. But he is sweet though…”

You probably looked insane to anyone outside of the car looking in. But you needed to have a small conversation with yourself or you’d end up going crazy. 

Steve rushed around the store, grabbing the things he needed to make this date worth it for you. He didn’t want to screw up his chance, you were what he wanted. He thought about you when he woke up and when he went to sleep, every little thing reminded him of you. Steve felt like the time was finally right. He headed towards the exit after paying but stopped as he came across a small flower stand that he swears wasn’t there when he came in but he doesn’t question it as he wasn’t exactly thinking much when he walked in, his hand skims over a few of them as he tries to find the perfect ones. 

“Not those ones.” His brows furrowed as he heard someone speak to him, causing him to look up. An old man smiles as he moves closer. “Those won’t do.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“The flowers. You’re getting them for someone special, yes?” Steve nods, an image of you appearing in his mind. “Then those are definitely not the ones. Here.” The old man begins to pick certain flowers from each bouquet and Steve opens his mouth to say that he probably isn’t allowed to do that but closes when he turns around. 

Steve’s mouth drops open, his arm reaching out and his hand softly grazes the flower. “They’re beautiful.” He pulls his hand back and reaches into his pocket to grab his wallet. “How much do I owe you?” 

The old man shakes his head, pushing the bouquet towards Steve gently. “It’s on the house, son. Now go, you don’t want to keep this special lady waiting any longer.” He smiles softly, a sparkle in his eyes as Steve grabs the flowers off of him. 

“Thank you, thank you so much. This means a lot.” Steve nods with appreciation before bidding the man a goodbye and walking away. Steve stops, feeling slightly bad. “Wait, I can’t take these for fr–” As he turns, he sees that the stall is gone. As though it was never there. His brows furrowed as he looked between the vacant space and the flowers. Surely it wasn’t all in his head, he had the bouquet in his hand. With a shake of his head, Steve walks out of the store and heads towards the car, questions filling his mind. 

You smile when you see Steve and all the thoughts that cloud his mind suddenly vanish as he looks at you. He smiles back, placing the basket neatly in the backseat before climbing into the front and handing you the bouquet. His hands shake slightly, hoping you’d like them. 

“Steve…” You stare at them with wide eyes, your hands slowly grabbing them and you lean in to smell them before you turn to him, your mouth opening and closing. “They’re beautiful… You didn’t have to…” You blink, feeling tears brim your eyes as you stare at him. “Thank you.” 

Steve reaches over, taking your hand softly. His thumb stroking your knuckles. “I would give you the whole world if I could.” He brings your hand up and places a soft kiss on it before he turns the car on, never letting go of your hand. “Now, are you ready to start our date officially?” You nod, no words able to escape you as you tighten your hold on his. 

You don’t think your mouth had closed since the beginning of this date with Steve, he had pulled moves that you weren’t expecting. Well, moves you didn’t think you deserved. 

You had finally arrived at your destination, which confused you a bit as he parked his car in a dirt parking lot in front of the woods. You looked at him and tilted your head. “If you brought me out here to kill me. I just want to let you know that you will probably get a one star review for first dates.”

Steve looks at you and chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t kill such a beautiful woman. I’d be incredibly stupid if I did.” He kisses your hand again before hopping out of the car and jogging around to your side before you even have a chance to turn around. Steve opens the door and helps you out before grabbing the basket in the back, his hand never leaving yours as he leads you through a short path. Your mouth drops open once again as you notice a beautiful field at the end of the path, it looks like something from a dream. “Do you like it?”

You squeeze his hand, not taking your eyes off of the field. “I love it.” You feel Steve let go before watching him walk out and find a spot, you watch him set the basket down and open it, pulling out a blanket. He lays the blanket flat on the ground before pulling food and drinks out of the basket. You walk over as he gestures for you, grabbing your hand softly as he helps you down. You stumble, falling into his chest gently. Your hands resting flat on the hardened muscle, his hands gripping your hips. 

Your eyes meet and you both notice how close you are to each other. You notice how well you seem to fit together. 

“Sorry…” Your cheeks heat up and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you continue to look into his eyes. 

“Don’t be.” Steve’s eyes dart between yours and your lips, his grip tightening slightly. “Are you hungry, Sweetheart?” 

You nod, teeth sinking harder into your lip because you aren’t thinking about food. Steve’s lips lift into a smirk, one hand moving to cup your cheek as his thumb pulls your lip from your mouth. 

“For food, Sweetheart. No matter how much I want to, I’m not going to sleep with you on the first date, nor the second or third. I want you to know I’m serious about being with you for you and not what’s between your legs.” He looked so serious and all you could think was–

Is it possible for hearts to have orgasms?

Steve sets you in a comfortable position on his lap, he liked the feeling of you close and when you didn’t protest, he took that as a good sign. He grabs the paper plates he bought and piles food onto them, listening to you ask for either more or a specific thing. You talked in a different light then how you guys talked when around your friends, it felt good, refreshing even. 

After you had finished eating, you and Steve lied onto your backs. You decided to play a small game that included the clouds and you couldn’t stop the laughs from escaping you. Steve couldn’t stop himself from staring at you. 

Your head falls to the side, the smile slowly falling off of your face as you notice Steve looking at you. “What?...” Was there something on your face? 

He hums, eyes fluttering as they dance across your face, taking in your features. “Just wondering how anyone could let you slip through their fingers. Must be blind or dumb… Or possibly both.” 

“You wouldn’t let me slip through yours?” Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip again and it was driving Steve crazy. 

He shakes his head. “I’d choose you and I’ll choose you, over, and over, and over. Without pause, without a doubt, in a heartbeat. I will keep choosing you.” You suck in a breath at his confession. Steve moves closer and takes your face into his hands. “Don’t you know? I have been yours. You always had my heart from the beginning. I fell for you ages ago. I have always belonged to you and only you.” He leans closer and your lips part. “I am yours, Sweetheart. Even if you aren’t mine.” 

It felt like everything had finally fallen together as he uttered those words. You could finally see what you had in front of you, you could finally feel what you had been pushing away. You wanted to jump, you wanted him.

“I’m yours.” The moment those words fall from your lips, Steve’s lips crash into yours, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss, his hand moving to cup the back of your head while the other cups your cheek. You could have sworn there were sparks, fireworks… Everything that the books and movies said would happen. 

The void inside yours and Steve’s chest had finally been filled, causing an extreme amount of love and happiness to flow through you. 

You pull away, softly gasping for air. You didn’t want to stop, because his lips felt so fucking good against yours. But unfortunately you needed to breathe and it seemed as though Steve felt the same as your eyes connected with his dark gaze.

Steve’s thumb strokes your cheek, “God, your ex is such a fucking idiot.” You hum, blinking slowly as you continue to stare into his eyes, his words barely registering in your mind. “But if I ever run into him. I’m definitely going to thank him.” 

You blink, brows furrowing as you pull back. “Huh?”

Steve grins. “Don’t get me wrong, If I ever meet the guy. I’ll definitely kill him for hurting you. But if he didn’t hurt you like he did, you wouldn’t have left and we wouldn’t have bumped into each other again.” He moves closer, brushing his nose against yours before pulling back and smiling more. “So, before I kill him. I am going to thank him for leading you back to me.” 

You huff, glaring at him a bit before cracking a smile when Steve just grins back. Your eyes flicker down to your fingers that play with his beard, humming softly before looking back into his eyes. “You wouldn’t kill him… It’s not who you are.”

Steve leans forward, pressing a rough but tender kiss against your lips before he pulls back. “You don’t seem to understand the power you hold over me, Sweetheart. I would rip the world apart with my bare hands if anything ever happened to you.” Your heart jumped, but not in fear. “Hell, I’d do it if you simply asked me too. That’s how much power you hold over me, Sweetheart.” Your lips part as he takes your chin in his hand, gently caressing it as he looks at you. “I need you to understand before we go any further with this. That I am yours and only yours. There is no other person that I want, no one else crosses through my thoughts when I think of love. You are the only one I want to be with.”

“I understand.” 

Steve shakes his head. “No, no you don’t and that’s okay. I won’t go anywhere when you have doubts about me, or when you begin to worry that I may be cheating. I am going to stick through it all because I want you. Because I will prove to you that you are the only woman I will ever love, ever be intimate with. Even if it takes forever for you to fully trust and believe, I can do this all day.” His words were so gentle and filled with love that you felt like crying. 

You cupped his face into your hands, pulling him back in for a deep kiss. Your eyes closing as you savor this feeling, enjoying how complete you feel when his lips touch yours. 

After your first date, everything else seemed to finally fall into place. Steve kept his word on not sleeping with you on your second and third date, which was driving you insane because he treated you so well while looking so god damn hot doing it. It was like he knew that you were seconds away from jumping him because he’d tease you and smirk while doing it but he would never let it go any further. It was like he was doing everything in his power to make you understand he was in this for more than just sex. 

You stared at yourself in the mirror, taking deep breaths as you prepared for another date Steve had planned. The other dates you didn’t react like this but this one he was taking you to a carnival. You were scared that what you had with Steve would change after this. You knew it was silly, it was just a carnival but what if this was a sign? What if things went downhill because things reminded you of him?

You blink out of your daze when you feel arms wrapping around you, your back hitting a thick body. Your eyes meet Steve’s worried gaze, your mouth opens but Steve beats you to it. 

“If you’re thinking you aren’t beautiful again. I swear I will put you over my knee.” He watches as your thighs squeeze together at the thought. “Maybe not, you seem to be into that idea.” Steve spins you around, pushing you softly against the counter while gripping your chin between his fingers. “Do you want to tell me what you are feeling?” 

You begin to chew on your bottom lip, staring up at him as you think. Steve tuts gently, pulling your lip from your teeth as he glares down at them before his eyes dart up to your eyes, raising a brow. “Johnny took me to the carnival…” 

He sucks in a breath at the mention of your ex, wishing he could give that man a piece of his mind. Possibly dumping his body into the ocean also but that could wait. “We don’t have to go if it’s making you uncomfortable, Sweetheart. I am happy as long as you are happy.” 

Your brows furrow as you hate this feeling, your ex hurt you and now you are acting like a child because a man who actually loves you wants to take you somewhere special. “No, I’m being stupid. I want to go.” 

You let out a soft gasp when he pushes you into the counter more, squeezing your chin slightly. “Sweetheart. Don’t you dare call yourself fucking stupid again. You are not stupid for feeling like this, do you understand?” 

You pout slightly, squeezing your thighs together softly as Steve moves your head up and down. “Good girl. I knew you would.” He leans down, pecking your lips gently. “Where do you want to go, Sweetheart?” 

“The carnival.” You let out a small whimper, wishing he would just fuck you right here and right now. 

You arrive, hand gripping Steve’s. He thinks it’s due to anxiety and bad memories but you really just want to sink to your knees and worship him. 

Steve lets you pull him along, going from game to game. You play a game of each before he takes a turn, winning you every prize you have your eye on. You couldn’t be happier, the other memories now forgotten as they are replaced with the happiness Steve brings. 

“I’m going to get us some food. Will you be okay here?” Steve asks, cupping your cheek as he peers down at you. You nod, smiling up at him as he leans down and pecks your lips. “Call out if you need me, Sweetheart. I’d drop everything to make sure you’re safe.” 

You let out a sigh of happiness as he walks away, your eyes falling to his arse. You were slightly jealous at how glorious it was compared to yours. But then again, if you asked Steve, he would say yours was a work of art. 

“Y/n?” You are pulled out of your thoughts as a familiar voice calls out to you. Your eyes drift and lock onto your ex-husband’s, he walks over with a giant smile. “Damn, you’re looking good! How have you been? Who was that guy?” 

You blink, confused. “Uh, I’ve been fine. That’s Steve.” You began to look around, hoping to catch Steve’s eye but you couldn’t see him anywhere. How far had he gone for food? Did he really go for food or was he pulling a Johnny? Your heart squeezed at the thought of being played again, you were stupid to think that you could get your happy ending. 

Johnny reaches out and touches your arm, moving closer. “I’ve missed you, Baby Girl.” You feel like you are going to throw up as the nickname slips from his lips. “Why don’t you give me another chance, hmm? I promise I won’t do it again.” 

“What happened to Sarah?” 

Johnny scoffs, his thumb stroking your arm. “She didn’t want to come. Don’t worry about her, so. What do you say we get out of here and I can make up for all of that time we missed?” 

You try to pull away while looking at him disgusted. “What the fuck, Johnny. You haven’t fucking changed at all. I loved you!” 

Johnny scoffs, “I know.” 

“And you broke my heart.” 

He nods. “I know that, too.” 

Your mouth opens as you go to say something but a dark shadow looms over the two of you. You turn your head and sigh as you realise it’s Steve, his eyes dark as he glares down at Johnny. Without realising, Johnny loosens his grip allowing Steve to pull you closer to him, tucking you into his side. 

“This is the guy you replaced me with?” He laughs, pointing. “This guy? He couldn’t even make you fucking scream if he tried.” He looks between you and Steve before settling back on you. “Come back to me, Baby Girl and I promise I’ll make you forget this guy.” Johnny reaches for you only for Steve to reach forward and grip his neck. 

You looked around with wide eyes, thankfully Steve chose a more secluded area because he wanted to spend some time with you without others intervening. 

“Touch her again and I’ll break your neck.” 

That was not supposed to turn you on. You were sick, yep. Definitely sick. 

Johnny tries to scoff the best he can while his neck is currently being squeezed. “Please, the slut wants me back. She’s so fucking pathetic I bet she spread her legs the moment you gave her the smallest bit of attention.” 

You watch with wide eyes and a wet cunt as Steve’s grip becomes tighter, he leans closer and whispers words low enough you can barely hear. 

“I’m going to kill you.” Steve’s voice becomes threatening, a slight growl escaping as he glares into Johnny’s eyes. “If you say another word about the woman I love, if you look at her, if you even think about her. I am going to fucking kill you.” 

“Dud–” Johnny tries to speak, his face turning red as he struggles to breathe.

“Actually, I think I will kill you now.” 

You realised Steve wasn’t kidding. He would follow through with everything he had told you on your first date, your eyes widened even more when you realised he had claimed you were the woman he loved. Loved. 

He, Steve Rogers, loved you?

Your chest tightens, “Steve…”

“Don’t you dare argue with me, Sweetheart. You’re mine.” The growl that slips from his lips is so feral, you felt like falling to your knees. “You don’t belong to this piece of shit anymore.” Steve turns his attention away from the man he’s currently choking to you. A darkness swirls deep inside of him, blinding him from being able to think rationally at this point. “You belong to me. Understand?” 

Fuck. 

Without much thought, you launch forward, capturing his lips in a deep, love-filled kiss. Pouring everything you felt into him, your arms moved, cupping his face as you did your best to pull him closer to you. Steve’s grip loosens, dropping Johnny. The both of you ignore as he falls, holding his throat as he coughs, trying to breathe again. 

You sigh happily as Steve’s body turns fully towards you, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against him as his other moves to cup the back of your head. Your lips moving so beautifully together, a squeal escapes you as Steve suddenly lifts you, your legs wrapping around him. You moan against his lips as his hand moves from your back to your arse, squeezing and slapping it. 

You pushed through the lust clouding your mind, finally realising you were still very much in public while your ex husband was still rubbing his throat on the ground. But the feel of Steve’s hands and lips against you was like heaven, you didn’t want this to stop ever. Maybe you should thank Johnny, it seemed his arseholeness was the final push for Steve to give into both of your desires. 

A moan slipped from your lips as Steve pulled you even closer to him, nibbling and sucking on your bottom lip as he devoured you. “Fuck. I don’t want our first time to be here, Sweetheart but you’re making this so fucking impossible.” Steve groans, squeezing your arse harder and bringing you into an even deeper kiss. 

“Take me home, Steve.” You breathe into the kiss, tugging slightly on his hair as you pull back to look at him with hooded eyes. “Please. Claim me as yours completely.” 

You watch his eyes darken even more if that was even possible. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman.” Without letting go of you, Steve bends down and stares at Johnny. “If you even think about trying anything. I will end you.” Your grip on him tightens at the threat, causing Steve to smirk. “You lost an incredible woman because of how pathetic you are. But I would like to thank you for leading her to me. If it weren’t for you being such a screw up, I wouldn’t have this wonderful woman in my arms and soon in my bed where you will be the last thing on her mind.” 

With one last look of disgust, Steve carries you throughout the carnival and to the car, hurriedly placing you inside before rushing in himself and driving you back to his place, you squirm the whole way as he leaves his hand on the inside of your thigh. 

You barely have time to breathe as Steve stops the car and instantly rushes to your side. Your arms wrapping around him as he picks you up, you had never seen Steve so… Impatient before, he was always the type to be calm and collected. Your eyes scan his face, noting the way his jaw clenches and his eyes darken. He was so beautiful, how did you become so lucky? You reach Steve’s door but you barely notice, your eyes are stuck on him. Admiring his thick beard and his hair that he had begun growing out. 

Steve looks down at you. “Are you okay? We don’t have to–” 

You press your lips against his gently. “Shh. I want you.” Your hand cups his cheek, smiling softly as he leans into your touch. “I am better than okay. No one has ever done what you did, Steve and I love you for it.” 

A squeal leaves you as Steve launches forward, capturing your lips with his. He manages to open the door before pressing you against the back of it, his hands moving all over your body, not wanting to miss anything. You moan into the kiss, it was like everything was finally falling into place. Your hands fly up, cupping his face and tugging on his hair. You pull him even closer, not wanting there to be any space between the two of you. 

Steve pulls back and you whimper, “God. I want you so bad.” Your breath gets caught in your throat at his confession. His hands grip your hips, looking you deep in your eyes. “You seriously don’t understand the effect you have on me. I can’t even be in the same room as you because I just want to touch you every chance I get.” Your mouth falls open, legs squeezing together.

“Steve…”

He hums, eyes focused on your lips. “Yeah, Sweetheart?” 

“Fuck me.” 

A grin makes its way onto his face as your eyes connect. “As you wish.” 

Next thing you know, you’re on your back staring up at the ceiling as Steve pulls your thighs onto his shoulders. You don’t remember when your clothes had come off but you can barely think as Steve begins to feast on you, your hands curl into the sheets below. “Oh god!” He groans deep into you, tongue swirling and flicking before his lips wrap around your swollen clit, sucking it hard into his mouth as your back arches off of the bed. 

Steve pulls away as you’re about to cum, causing you to look at him with furrowed brows. “I want to feel you cum around me. Then I’m going to take you apart over and over again until you can barely remember your name. Understand, Sweetheart?” 

Your mouth falls open as you stare at him. Brain feeling so fuzzy that you can’t even respond to him now. Steve leans closer, pressing his body against yours. A moan fills the room as you feel his length resting against your cunt. “Don’t worry, Sweetheart. Save your voice, you’ll need it to scream my name out later.” Steve grips your hips, rubbing his thick member against your slick folds before he begins to push in. “Fuck. You feel so good.” 

Your hands fly up, gripping onto him as he thrusts deeper inside of you. “Steve!”

“You’re being so good for me, Sweetheart. My good girl.” He rests his forehead against yours as his hips move, thrusting in and out of you at a steady but rough pace. His hands move all over you, gripping every part of your body before he rests on your neck, cupping it. Your arms wrap around him, crying out as he fucks you.

You clench around him, feeling your end approaching. “Steve! So close!” You moan as his lips connect with yours, bringing you into a deep kiss. His thrusts pick up, slamming into a spot deep inside of you that causes you to see stars. Your back arches, pressing your body closer against his as you cum hard around him. “STEVE!” You scream out, blacking out for a slight moment.

Steve groans into the kiss, biting down gently on your bottom lip as his cock twitches, pumping you full of his cum. You hold onto him tightly as he continues to coat your walls, hips moving softly against you. He pulls back and looks at you with darkened eyes. “You’ve got me hooked, Sweetheart. There’s no way I’m letting go of you now.” You gasp as you feel him harden inside of you, fully aware that you’re in for a long night.

Steve flops down beside you, huffing slightly as he tries to catch his breath. You stare dazedly up at the ceiling. “Wow.” 

He smiles, pulling you close to him. You snuggle into him, your sore body relaxing as he begins to caress your shoulders and back. Steve leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead before resting his chin on top of your head. “I love you. I want you to know that this isn’t a one time thing for me. You are it for me, okay? You are the woman I want to spend every waking moment with.” You smile happily into his chest. 

So this is love? You could get used to this kind of love. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[declareqenius]

some would sing and some would scream

summary: your girlfriends are two of the best mob bosses in the city. you and natasha were out for a nightly walk, both feeling restless as you awaited wanda’s return from a business trip. it was going well, until someone got the jump on both of you. 

pairings: WandaNat x Reader

warnings: blood, violence, knives, being tied up, stabbing, passing out

a/n: hey guys! here’s another one. i have no idea how mobs work, which is probably a good thing, but i hope it makes enough sense. second part, anyone? let me know what you think! wanda is barely here but is mentioned throughout. 

Part 1 | Part 2 

It’s been days since you and Natasha have seen Wanda. Days, maybe a week, since you were both taken by the henchmen of an enemy family; the Celestials. They have nerve, you’ll give them that, but you know as soon as Wanda and the rest of your family finds your location, they won’t know what hit them. 

The metal chair is cold against your legs and the restraints around your wrists are digging uncomfortably into your skin. You know the more you struggle, the worse it will be, but you need to at least try. There are cuts on either cheek and one gash on your thigh- which is exposed because you decided to wear shorts that fated day. You started regretting your decision yesterday because they kept their torture room freezing, and although you reside in New York, the cold has never been- and never will be- your friend. 

Natasha sits next you in a chair identical to yours. Her restraints are different, though, and it’s obvious the Celestials know how big of a threat she is. She’s continuously struggled to get out of them and your heart pangs in your chest because part of you knows it’s because she hates seeing you hurt. 

Your girlfriend is safe from cuts and gashes and it’s all due to them wanting to get under her skin. They know of the relationship you share with the two powerful mob leaders, and they’re trying to use it to their advantage. 

Natasha doesn’t break easily. Neither does Wanda. Everyone knows this, including you, but Nat barely lasted ten minutes when Najma- the leader of the Celestials- started dragging the knife across your thigh. She begged her to take her instead, but Najma was quick to assure that any torture you faced would be dragged out. 

“Nat. Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep struggling.” Your firm voice cuts through the thick silence and leaves no room for argument. You’d stopped struggling five minutes ago when you realized it wouldn’t help, but Natasha kept it up and the redness around her wrists started to worry you. 

“I need to get out before they come in again. Need to get you untied.” Her voice is gravelly and preoccupied, and her plight is obvious. The only thoughts swarming her head are about getting you out of there unharmed. 

“And then what? You fight them off with nothing and we die trying to escape? We leave Wanda alone? She’ll never forgive us for that. We have to think about this, Natasha.” 

You’re honestly surprised how calm you were, considering the situation. But you know Wanda is on a murderous rampage and Natasha is going through anger induced anxiety at the mere thought of either of you not making it out of this, so you’re left being the reasonable one. 

“I am thinking about this, Y/N!” 

Her chair clangs to a halt as she stops struggling with a frustrated huff. You know that if the two of you weren’t in the hands of your family’s greatest rival, then your girlfriend would let her tears flow free. The only sign that she had any intent of crying before she remembered where you were was her red nose. 

“I’m thinking about it,” she says defeatedly, yet firmly. “Najma is going to come back any minute and she is going to harm you in unimaginable ways and I can’t stop her because I’m tied to this stupid fucking chair.” 

“Natty,” you say softly, “look at me, please?” 

God, you wish you could reach out and touch her. It takes a moment for her to find some semblance of composure so she can look you in the eyes instead of staring guiltily at the gash in your thigh. 

“Listen to me, okay? I need you to hear me,” you start, waiting until Natasha subtly nods her head to continue, “You aren’t going to tell them anything. No matter what they do to me-” 

“But-” 

“No. Listen. Whatever they do to me, I need you to grin and bear it until Wanda gets here or you have a secure plan to get us out. It’s going to be painful for both of us, but I’m a big girl, I can handle it, okay?” 

“Detka, I don’t know if I can-” 

“Natalia. I knew what I was getting into the moment you and Wanda told me what you did for a living. I knew it would happen eventually. There’s only so much protecting my knights in shining fedoras,” you give her a gentle grin at your joke, “can do. I need you to promise me. No matter how much pain I’m in. We need to wait it out. That’s all we can do right now, my love.” 

Natasha looks like she desperately wants to argue again, but you both know she’s only got so much fight left and she needs to save it for when Najma comes back. You try not to imagine what the leader of the Celestials has in store for you; which ways your body will be bloodied and scarred, but it’s hard when Natasha’s brain is going a mile a minute and the blood from the gash on your leg won’t stop dripping down your thigh. 

“Do you remember our very first date?” You ask, a small smile on your face as you look up at your girlfriend. 

“Malysh-” 

“Nat, please. I can’t sit in silence.” 

She sighs and looks away for a moment. To compose herself. You fear that sentence nearly sent her over the edge, but a moment later she nods. 

“Like it was yesterday. Wands and I had thirty minutes to clean ourselves up after having gotten back from taking care of something. We were so worried we were going to be late, and so we texted you that work held us up for longer than we anticipated. You were so patient with us. You still are so patient with us.” 

“Have to be with you two. Who knows what kind of trouble you got into when it was just the both of you parading around. Someone has to keep you in check, make sure you have something, someone to come home to. Both of you.” 

“And we cherish every moment we get to spend with you, detka.” 

Natasha says it so sincerely and it pushes you over the edge. Your eyes start watering and while it’s not a full-on sob, your tears do fall because you know where Natasha’s mind has gone. Where it has been this entire time. 

Then, it feels as if all the air in the room is sucked out. All the love you felt from Natasha moments ago is gone when you see her face switch to one you had only seen a handful of times. Your girlfriends try to keep you out of the business as much as they can, but you were still privy to some things. Natasha’s expression looked distant and blank, and you hear clapping from the far right corner of the room. 

Your heart sinks to your stomach, but you keep your features neutral. 

Najma. 

“Aw, how sweet. Quite a show you both put on. If this were reality television, my family would be rooting for you. Little lovebirds. It’s a shame your other girlfriend isn’t here. I’m sure it would spice things up.” 

“If she were here, you would be dead already,” you snark. 

“Dorogoy-” Natasha starts in warning, but Najma is quick to cut her off. 

“It’s okay, Ms. Romanova. She won’t be able to... joke around much once I’m done with her. I must say, I have been quite lenient and I am a sucker for a love story, but I fear it is time to get some answers. So, every time you refuse to answer one of my questions, your little girlfriend here will endure some kind of pain. Haven’t decided yet. Won’t decide until that moment. Whatever feels right, I suppose. Nod to let me know you understand.” 

Natasha nods. 

Your eyes bore holes into the side of her head and you hope she hears your pleas. Your reminders. 

“Good. We’ll start off easy, then.” Najma takes her knife out of her boot and slowly walks over to you. She places the tip on your upper arm. The way she’s looking at you, as if you were a turkey to be carved instead of eaten and enjoyed, chills you to the bone. 

“What is your name?” Najma directs the question towards Natasha. 

“Natasha Romanova-Maximoff.” 

“Hm. That’ll do. What is your wife’s name?” 

“Wanda Romanova-Maximoff.” 

These were all answers that Najma knew already, and you’re unsure of why she’s wasting time. Not that you’re complaining. The more time she takes to interrogate Natasha, the more time Wanda has to find you both. The only name Najma shouldn’t know is yours. Natasha hasn’t once used it since you’ve been kidnapped, and you figure it’s for a reason. Your only family is the one you were welcomed into when you officially became Wanda and Natasha’s girlfriend, but your name not being out there kept you safer. 

“And what is your girlfriend’s name?” 

There it is. 

You glance at Natasha, fully aware of the knife on your arm but deeming it safe enough to move the slightest amount. Natasha’s eyes catch yours and you don’t have to plead with her this time. Her decision was made the moment her green eyes met your own. 

Keeping your name a secret gives both of you a better chance when Wanda breaks the both of you out of this place. 

So, when Natasha moves her eyes from yours to look at Najma, you prepare yourself for the pain. 

The redhead doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. Najma knows it isn’t a question she’s going to answer simply by the blank determination written across her face. 

“Very well then,” the Celestial leader says, bored as she drags the knife slowly across your upper arm. 

You stare at Natasha the entire time. 

Natasha stares at your arm, and you know it is her way of punishing herself. 

As if being locked in a freezing room with no way out wasn’t punishment enough. Your girlfriend forces herself to watch as one of her foes marks your body with their knife. Their torture. 

It makes her angry and she clenches both her jaw and her fists to keep herself from pulling on the restraints, having learned her lesson twenty minutes earlier. 

Wanda will never let her live this down. 

You’re glad it’s not Wanda with you. She would have been able to kill everyone by now, but if they had put special cuffs on her and made her watch as they tortured you, you know she would have given everything up to ensure you lived. 

You appreciate how much your girls love you, but the family wouldn’t have been able to take that kind of hit. So, you’re glad it’s Natasha who is with you, and maybe you’ll get the chance to reiterate that to Wanda someday soon. It will surely keep them from biting each other’s heads off while you’re recovering. 

“Next question.” 

You can hear the Cheshire Cat-like grin Najma wore as she placed the knife in a different spot on your body. This time, your thigh, about two inches higher than the first gash she gave you. 

“Where is the Mind stone?” 

Again, Natasha doesn’t answer and you audibly keel over in pain when the knife creates an identical gash to the one that came before it. 

Again, Natasha watched the knife slide across your thigh. 

“Hard eggs to crack, but I have only just begun.” 

Now, Najma is in front of you and you barely have enough time to process the cool metal of the knife being dragged down your face. Your breathing is heavy, but you muster the most spiteful expression you can. 

“I would really hate to see this beautiful face marred, Natasha. It would be such a shame. She could pose for those magazines. I hear it is great work, but enough small talk. Maybe I won’t have to mar your beautiful face, my little paaltoo.”

You decide then that you only like Urdu when Kamala speaks it. 

“All Natasha has to do is give me the location of the Mind stone and your pretty little face will go unmarked. Don’t worry, it will only hurt a little bit. It’s more of a... reminder for your lovers.” 

Even if your girlfriend’s face remains neutral, you can tell she’s seething on the inside. You glance at her for a moment and you know that you need to stall more. Enough for Wanda to find both of you. Nat can’t do anything but not answer Najma’s questions, and eventually Najma will tire of the game she’s playing. Who knows what that would look like? You doubt she would kill you quickly and undermine the work she’s already done on you, but if Najma doesn’t have something to quell her violent hunger, you don’t know what will happen to you or Natasha. 

So, you have to keep Najma entertained. Interested. Piece of cake. 

When you know that her focus is on Natasha’s expression and not your “pretty little face”, you send a guilty look to your girlfriend. Better to ask for forgiveness later. Then, you muster up all your courage and remember all the times you’ve seen Wanda and Natasha interrogate people, and you speak.

“What makes you think Natasha will talk? You’ve gotten this far and she hasn’t said a word. Maybe she doesn’t care about me as much as you think she does.”

“Mm, you’re not going to get me that easy my little paaltoo, I hear how she speaks to you. How she looks at you. And how she seethes every time my blade runs across your delicate skin. The love this woman holds for you is insurmountable. Don’t think me a fool.” 

“You picked the wrong one.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Blood runs down the side of your arm and thigh and you’ve long forgotten how to feel the searing pain. 

“The wrong girlfriend. You should’ve picked Wanda. Natasha is tough to crack but she’s been through a lot. Wanda, though? Wanda has a heart of gold and the sight of me in danger would have had her spilling all of her secrets. Or it would have sent her on a murderous rampage and we’d be out of here already, but you never know. All I’m saying is that Wanda would have given you so much more than Natasha ever will.” 

Your nonchalance must have been jarring to both the women in the room, and you’re certain that Yelena, your best friend, would have been proud of you. 

“I’m holding a knife to your face and you have the audacity to judge my methods?” 

Najma pierces your skin with the point of the blade and it almost makes you laugh. 

“What are you going to do? Kill me? You would lose leverage over Wanda and Natasha. You wouldn’t give that up so easily.” 

“And what makes you think I couldn’t find something else they hold dear to them?” 

“You would be searching for the rest of your life.” 

It’s a big statement. Words that probably hold a lot more weight than anything you have ever said before, but you’re aware of what you mean to your girlfriends. How all of you balance each other out in ways that no one expects upon first meeting the three of you. In fact, you’re so certain of your feelings for them and vice versa, that if you make it out of this alive, then you’re going to propose to them. 

Wanda would absolutely kill Natasha if you didn’t make it out of this alive. Guilt would eat both of them up, but better one of you makes it out than neither of you. 

Another slash of the knife on your cheek and you can feel the sting of the blade as Najma follows all the way through with a flick of her wrist. 

“Natasha, tell you girlfriend to shut up.” 

“I’ve never listened to Natasha.” You’re a bit of a brat sometimes, it’s true. “Besides, I’m going to bleed out soon anyway. Then my lovely girlfriend won’t have anyone to talk to. That would be such a shame because I’m a gem.” 

You decide then that you’ve stalled long enough, and really all you did was give your already gushing wounds time to bleed even more. The light headedness is starting to catch up to you and you sincerely hope that you’ve done enough. 

Najma doesn’t pay any mind to your talking, probably realizing what exactly it is that you were doing, and instead she focuses on Natasha again. 

“I will ask one more time.” 

This time Najma positions the knife in front of your stomach and you don’t know if she’s going to stab you or cut you, but you’re not sure she knows either. Frantic green eyes lock onto yours as you get a good look at Natasha. Your eyes are calm as you try memorize everything from the way her braid sits on the side of her shoulder to the perfect shape of her lips. Fear pulses through you and you know that somehow it is not entirely your own, but you shake your head all the same. 

You will not be the reason your family falls. You will not be the reason that Wanda and Natasha have no home to go back to. 

“Where. Is. The Mind stone?” 

Nat’s eyes are pleading but yours remain blank and you know she has to bring forth years and years of training to look away from you and instead at Najma. So the woman holding the knife can see the defiance in her eyes along with her lips pursed in a straight line. Natasha isn’t going to say a word. 

The knife plunges into your left side and you don’t scream, you aren’t going to give your captor that satisfaction, but the sound you do make is enough to have Natasha looking away and a single tear rolling down her cheek. To your confusion, though, Najma doesn’t withdraw the weapon. She leaves the blade inside of you and brushes off her hands before grabbing you by the chin so you can look directly in her eyes.

“Don’t breathe too hard, my little paaltoo, otherwise a vital organ will be caught and I would so love to torture you more later.” 

With that, she lets go of you and walks out. You think that having to look into that woman’s eyes was worse than any of the torture she’s inflicted on you. 

“Natty,” you breathe, voice worn and your eyes wanting to shut already. You’ve never been stabbed before and the pain plus your other wounds is too much. 

“Detka, I’m so sorry,” Natasha’s voice breaks and your heart aches for her. 

“Shhh. Don’t apologize, my love.” Breathing is starting to get really hard. “Natty I need to tell you something.” 

“Anything, malyshka.” 

You know Nat is desperate to keep you talking. Keep you awake. Alive. You don’t want to give up just yet. Wands will be here soon, you can feel it. 

“I think,” your head lolls to the side for a moment, “I think I only,” you breathe in and out, “like Urdu when Kamala,” you swallow because your mouth feels really dry all of a sudden, “speaks it.” 

“Me too, detka. Me too.” 

You can feel yourself fading, and you don’t think the knife has hit anything vital yet, but maybe a nap would help lessen the pain. Just a quick one. 

Your head lolls forward and it jostles the blade a little. You can hear Natasha’s panic, how her voice wavers and breaks as she addresses you. 

“Detka, baby, you’re doing so good for me, love. You’ve done so good. I need you to hold on just a little bit longer, okay? Just a little longer. For Wanda. Please, baby. Need you to stay awake.” 

You blink your eyes open and muster enough strength to look up at her. 

“I’m so tired, Natty.” 

“I know, baby. I know, but I need you for just a little longer, okay?”

“I don’t know if I can, Natty.” 

Breathing hurts and blood is sticky. Your head once again droops forward.

“Please. Please, Y/N!” 

Natasha’s cries are suddenly drowned out by the door opening. You assume it’s Najma, because even in your drowsy state, you didn’t miss the fact that Natasha screamed your name. 

But then there’s an explosion and you’re able to open your eyes just enough to see swirls of scarlet red surrounding the room. You can’t hang on any longer, but you hope that Wanda and Natasha will forgive you as you finally let your eyes close all the way and your body slump forward in the metal chair you were tied to. 

The last thing you felt was Natasha’s hands on you, trying to wake you up, and the last thing you heard was Wanda’s agonizing screams.

[cubbihue]

How did/does Timmy feel about the whole changeling and becoming a fairy situation? Was he ever upset about it seeing as it was an accident? I think at first it would probably be like "oh cool I'm a fairy!!" But eventually the reality of having to leave behind his friends & not being able to grow up alongside them would kick in :0

Also does changeling Timmy know he's a replacement?

It would have been cruel of Cosmo and Wanda to take Timmy away after such an accident. They quickly undid the works, and then tried again when he was a bit more aware, older, and wanting. It's the second best thing to happen to him!

Of course, becoming a Fairy takes much more than a single night! There's quite a bit of paper works involved. And Changeling making. Timmy had about 2-3 years until he fully transitioned and said his proper goodbyes.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

Do you know who or where you're meant to be? Whether you are in the right place and time? If perhaps your parents should have had a child in August instead of September? That you should've been 5 hours younger, not older?

Would you still be yourself had you been born the day after? Had your parents been interrupted that night, and tried the next month, would you still be you? If your name was Jesse and not James? If you were born the youngest and not the oldest?

Who are you truly, when any action, or inaction, in the stream of time, in the web of movement and influences, could have changed the course of your entire being?

You don't question it.

Neither does Changeling Timmy.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 8 part 8

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

so anyway rio could have stepped in at any moment and ejected billy into oblivion / prevented agatha from getting a full recharge. but did she? no, no she didn't. this is absolutely a fucked up game they're playing instead of talking about their feelings. rio tried to talk and agatha rejected her (almost) every time, so theatrics and blood it is! god it sucks so much that this stupid flirt/hurt/posture/dance is the only way agatha allows them to communicate.

agatha's smirk! she's like, now you're gonna get it! now I'm gonna fuck you up!!! rio has been throwing her around like a rag doll, but now that she has her powers back agatha can finally put allllll her shields up and do a little show of her own.

when it comes to agatha everything is about being in control of the narrative, being the one who hurts rather than being hurt, never showing any weakness or vulnerability. she was awfully vulnerable without her powers and that has allowed rio to creep in closer, something that agatha had managed to escape for so long. it's no coincidence that she chooses this appearance, the same one she chose when going face to face with wanda. this is what she was trying to look like with her purple coat too: the formidable, merciless witch. it's an armor she clings to, a mask to feel powerful that won't ever show the mess she's hiding underneath. this is what agatha chooses to look like when she's scared.

rio: fuck off you little meddling twink the adults are talking

agatha: mwhahahah I'm such a big scary villain just lemme check if billy's okay real quick.

actually let me gush for a second about agatha's greenhouse being full of herbs and potions! her witchy basement disappeared because she had built it with a magical illusion, but in here she's been totally experimenting with physical craft (neeeerd).

billy's like, are those two fuckers honestly actually flirting right now

CHILDREN I swear to god

LEAVE MY INFURIATINGLY STUPID EVIL MOM ALONE!!!

poor rio. just her luck that when she finally gets to corner agatha a baby maximoff comes into the picture. I love my perfect mama's boy.

the bittersweet look she gives billy. she's truly having a lot of firsts, now she finally admits that all her dancing/fighting with rio is futile, it's just for show and it won't ever truly solve anything. what is she even doing, involving billy? billy who's still so earnest, so eager to help.

I SEE YOU JAC SCHAEFFER! I SEE YOUR EVIL WAYS! I SEE YOU CREATING THESE SILLY LITTLE SHOWS SO YOU CAN EXPLORE THE IMPOSSIBILITY OF LOSS AND GRIEF AND OUR OWN MORTALITY!!!!

but she's being 100% genuine here???

okay, no, this is still agatha we're talking about.

she's being aT LEAST 80% GENUINE! she's having a moment of clarity, she's contemplating the true awfulness that would be sacrificing billy on the altar of her own fucked up issues. the mask has slipped and the real agatha is peeking through, swords in her heart and all.

her parting words to billy: you are not bad. the same words she wanted to imprint on him when they had their first mask off conversation. don't let people cast you as a villain, like they did with me.

Neither are you, says Billy.

You're the only one who thinks so.

The thing is, being so hated, doing all the fucked up things she does, really hurts agatha. It's no justification whatsoever, doesn't make her any less of a villain. she goes out of her way to be misunderstood, to never show any weakness, to selfishly rationalize all the horror she inflicts, because the alternative is opening up to more potential hurt, and she's been hurt too fucking much in the past. and the more she pushes people away, the lonelier she is. it's a vicious circle.

three people loved her despite it all: rio, and she ran away from her when things got too overwhelming. nicky, and that's a whole other mess that I'll get into next episode.

and now billy loves her, and she craves that love just as much as she wants to run away from it. she'll hurt billy to protect herself, she'll hurt him first because she's afraid that he eventually will leave or die or get mad and will hurt her. because right now? she's feeling so much love for billy, and that's terrifying to her. the more she loves, the more she opens up to heartbreak.

both gorgeous shots

billy: I'm not that nice.

also billy:

then she got an idea. an awful idea. agatha got a wonderful, awful idea.

oh this is perfect, isn't it, agatha? you somehow convinced the boy to turn himself in! if he goes through with it, rio has promised to leave you alone! you'll be free to crawl back to your dark dark corner and accumulate bodies and power like the old miserable smaug you are!

you can see agatha's survival instinct kick into high gear. this is how she has survived so long. this is what she does.

BILLY'S FACE. I got to laugh a bit, sorry kid.

rio shaking her head both in triumph and exasperation. of course you betrayed the kid, agatha you piece of shit. rio didn't expect any less from you.

and she can't even look at him, the coward.

but I thought we were having a moment??

he went ahead and made a grand gesture without being ready to actually sacrifice himself whatsoever, and now he's going "mom??? come back and pick me up, I'm scared??" it's like agatha is kicking a puppy.

the slow, dramatic turn. the evil grinchy grin. this is the most egregious example yet of agatha putting her mask on, and we have all the context to understand exactly what she's doing and to see what's going on both on the surface and inside her wretched little soul. she's not cruel and uncaring, that's play acting - she's actually small and scared and a coward. she's once again running away screaming, rationalizing it as a smart choice and breaking her own heart in the process.

so I know billy's telepathic line was added in post because disney execs feared audiences wouldn't buy agatha turning around on her own. what absolute buffoonery, such massive disregard for your viewers' intelligence.

...on the other hand. billy full on misreading the situation and trying to fix things that are beyond him, only to accidentally hit the target? somehow fixing a delicate fragile problem by hitting it with a hammer? totally on brand for him.

is this how nicky died? it kind of is. she did choose her own fear over nicky's well being, despite loving him so so much.

whether you choose jac's version or disney's version, here's what happens next: agatha stops in her tracks. her stupid grin fades away, and she clutches her chest. she finally did it, she told a lie too big. her poor heart, already bleeding from all the swords stuck in it, simply cannot take one more stab. sure she's all about self-preservation, but at this point she's damned either way: she either goes out saving billy or she's killed by her own regrets and sorrow.

she turns around. she runs. not to billy. to rio.

going back to what my mother jac schaeffer (whom I love more than jesus or pizza) said: this is not agatha enacting a grand plan, she's not taking a ~calculated risk like she'll tell billy later, the fucking liar that she is. sure, she had a vague hope of turning into a ghost, but she didn't know for sure. this is agatha's emotions taking over her brain - like they tend to - and forcing her to use what are probably her final moments on earth to TAKE WHAT SHE'S BEEN CRAVING ALL ALONG

agatha grabs rio's face and SMASHES their mouths together. FULL ON proceeds to EAT HER FACE she wants her so much. rio is shocked for a moment and then closes her eyes and gives in completely. and you can see the poison taking over because this idiot - this gorgeous, tragic dork - has decided to kill herself by absorbing rio's powers - but this is not going to be a mere 'peck of Death', no sir, that's not what it's called! agatha is gonna SNOG Death, she's gonna TONGUE that immortal being, she's GETTING ALLLLL HER MONEY'S WORTH. dear lord the HUNGER and YEARNING and DESPERATION on her face.

and I love that she's taller here. they're basically the same height so who's taller depends on the shoes they're wearing, but I love love love that agatha gets to engulf her for once. agatha taking control, rio giving herself up completely

what? you thought that now that magic has been absorbed THE KISS would be over???? well THINK AGAIN. because now we're going to switch angles, we're going to linger, we're going to make it look like almost gratuitous fan service, oh yes we are!!!

I truly don't know what to say. I would like to thank jac of course, and kathryn hahn and aubrey plaza for MAKING THE FUCK OUT and exchanging so much spit on camera like the true professionals they are. thank you writers room, thank you to all the crew who had to listen to the ungodly noises these two were undoubtedly making. thank you gandja monteiro for directing this. I'm going to even thank the lighting department for making it thunder so we can (more or less) see what's going on. this was truly a group effort. well done you all!

and they keep kissing until the very last available moment, and rio doesn't know how to let her go

but this is so on brand for agatha. you know if rio was in her place she'd try to be as gentle as possible to ease agatha's grief. agatha literally went for the most dramatic, most over-the-top, most emotionally devastating way to go. this was supposed to be rio's big moment! and what does agatha do? she makes it all about herself. again. should be the other way around, but once again rio gives, agatha takes. you just gotta laugh at this point.

Death looks on stone faced as her love turns back to nature and balance is restored. she wraps herself in her cloack and tries very, very hard not to cry.

agatha really went and made rio kill her, didn't she? rio, who isn't ALLOWED TO. these two are soooo wrong and so toxic for each other and yet they love each other so freaking much, I truly cannot get enough of them.

go to episode 8 part 9

[claramelooo]

CRIMSON REVERIE

Now it starts!

Love it <3

Pairing: Dark!Witch Wanda x Reader

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Warnings: +18

Summary: You don't understand why Professor Maximoff watches you so much, apparently, neither does she

Read here: Prologue | ENVY | MULTIVERSAL ANCHOR

FUEL

The awakening was abrupt but not uncomfortable. Wanda blinked slowly, adjusting to the dimness of the room. The hand resting on her waist was large, familiar, but rough—different from the softness she had expected. For a moment, she wished for something else, but as she turned, she found Vision, his calm, usual expression still present as he slept.

Wanda's chest tightened. It was like a reverse dream—something desired yet distant. She slid out of bed carefully, trying not to wake him, but memories began flooding her mind, blending with the conflicting emotions pulsating in her chest.

In the hallway, she encountered Tommy and Billy, still sleepy, one chasing the other with muffled giggles that warmed her heart. For a moment, she almost forgot she didn’t belong there. Almost.

Even with them there, even with Vision by her side, something was missing. Something she couldn’t ignore.

Wanda took a deep breath, heading to the kitchen and pouring herself a cup of coffee. The memories of this universe began to align, filling gaps. She was a teacher, a respected and feared figure on campus. Vision was her husband. Her children, healthy and happy. Everything seemed perfect, but the emptiness persisted, like a hole she couldn’t fill.

The emptiness had an oblique face and a delicate shape. Sharp eyes, yet kind. Her heart burned—for something, for someone. But Wanda didn’t understand. Something was wrong.

Vision entered the room, his presence methodical and precise as always. “You’re up early again,” he remarked, his yellow eyes analyzing her with customary objectivity.

“I didn’t sleep well,” Wanda replied, closing the book without looking at him.

Vision tilted his head, the gesture almost human, but something was missing—emotion, spontaneity.

“Is something on your mind? Can I help?”

The question was logical, a rational attempt at a solution. But that was always what was missing: human warmth, the living flame

Wanda felt should be there.

“No, Vision. It’s not something you can fix.”

He frowned, as if trying to understand.

“I detect a change in your behavioral patterns since this morning. There seems to be an increase in emotional tension. Are you feeling dissatisfied?”

Wanda looked at him and, for a moment, tried to find the same spark that had drawn her to him in another time, another place. But it wasn’t there. Vision was precise, methodical, and though kind, he lacked passion. He never had it.

“I’m just... confused,” she admitted, resting her chin in her hands.

Vision moved closer, sitting beside her with carefully calculated motions. He took her hand, like a rehearsed gesture.

“Wanda, you have everything you ever wanted. Me, the boys, a respectable career. What more do you need?”

The words hit like a punch.

“Everything I ever wanted,” she repeated bitterly. “Yes, of course. That should be enough.”

Vision tilted his head again, observing her with almost clinical curiosity.

“If there is something else you desire, we can recalibrate our environment to meet your needs.”

“Recalibrate?” She laughed without humor, pulling her hand away from his.

“You think this is about the environment, Vision? It’s not that simple.”

“Then what’s missing?” he pressed, the logic in his voice starting to irritate her.

Wanda remained silent for a moment, taking a deep breath.

“What’s missing… is life, Vision. You don’t understand because you don’t feel it. You’re… functional. Logical. Precise.”

Vision processed her words, but his response was direct, almost mechanical.

“My purpose is to ensure your well-being and that of the boys. If I’ve failed, I can correct it.”

“You haven’t failed,” she replied, tiredly. “I just... I don’t know. I don’t know.”

He stayed silent, perhaps trying to calculate an appropriate response. But Wanda knew it was futile. Vision couldn’t be what she needed. He wasn’t passionate about life. He didn’t understand it and never could.

She looked at him, trying not to feel guilty. He couldn’t grasp what it meant to be human, nor the emptiness she felt.

“You’re good, Vision. A good father to the boys. A good partner for... whoever you believe I am here,” Wanda murmured, standing.

“Wanda, you’re speaking as if you’re somewhere else,” he remarked, with his usual precision.

She paused at the door, not turning around.

“Maybe I’ve always been.”

And with that, Wanda walked away, leaving Vision alone in the room, silent and unchanged, as always.

[...]

Wanda’s heels echoed through the university hallways like a warning, and you felt your heart race even before lifting your eyes from the notebook. Professor Maximoff was coming.

She was the kind of woman who could stop time, who made others bow with just a glance. The rumors about how even the administration feared confronting her were not exaggerated. Wanda Maximoff wasn’t just a professor; she was a force of nature.

You’d never admit it out loud, but there was something about her that always left you on the edge. It wasn’t just her stunning beauty or the low, firm tone of her voice, but the way she seemed to see you differently. As if she knew more than she should. As if she could strip you bare with a simple raise of her brow.

She stopped directly in front of you. You looked up, meeting those emerald-green eyes fixed on you, and felt your throat go dry.

“Miss...” she began, her voice low and drawn out, as if considering whether it was even worth speaking to you.

“Y/L/N,” you quickly completed, trying to sound confident, but the hesitation in your voice betrayed you.

“I’m well aware of your name,” she replied, a hint of disdain in her voice. “Don’t think I forget my students.”

Wanda Maximoff hated you. Not with a simple, petty hatred, but with something more complex, more visceral. Every word you spoke in her classes, every glance you held, was an affront—not just to who she was but to what she had fought to build.

You didn’t seem to fear her like the others. You didn’t buckle under the weight of her presence, nor stumble over your words like so many other students when Wanda directed her penetrating gaze at them. Instead, you challenged her in ways she couldn’t ignore, even when she tried. It was in the details: the way you held her gaze a second too long, the faint curve of your lips suggesting that you knew something—something Wanda didn’t want anyone to know.

She hated you because you were a distorted mirror, reflecting the cracks in her flawless facade. Your audacity—subtle or otherwise—was an uncomfortable reminder that, no matter how much control she had over her world, there was something about you that eluded her grasp. It infuriated her, and at the same time, it ignited a fire she didn’t know how to extinguish.

Your face warmed, but you masked it by shifting your gaze to your notebook. “Of course, Professor.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment, and you felt her eyes boring into you, assessing, intimidating.

“You’re aware that your analysis of Blindness is overdue, aren’t you?” Wanda asked, leaning forward slightly, arms crossed over her chest.

You swallowed hard, trying not to get lost in her scent, which seemed to wrap around the air around you. “Yes, Professor. I... I’m finishing it; I just need one more day.”

“One more day,” she repeated, as if savoring the words, her lips curling into a half-smile that promised nothing good. “You always have an excuse, don’t you?”

“I don’t—” you started, but she raised an eyebrow, and the words died in your throat as she noticed the slight stiffening of your shoulders.

“Perfect,” she thought, feeling a cruel satisfaction. There was something almost addictive about watching you struggle to maintain your composure in front of her. It was a game Wanda hated playing, but one she couldn’t walk away from. Not when it came to you.

“Spare me, Miss Y/L/N. I’m tired of hearing excuses from students who think they can survive my course with mediocre effort.”

When your eyes finally gathered the courage to meet hers again, there was a palpable tension in the air, as if it had grown heavier. Wanda could feel the heat rising in her skin, but she attributed it to anger—it had to be anger.

You challenged her again, with that look that seemed to dare her: Go on, Maximoff. Break me, if you can.

It was unbearable. It was intoxicating.

Your heart was beating so fast you thought she could hear it. But instead of feeling ashamed, something else was coursing through you. Admiration? Desire? Maybe both.

“I promise I’ll deliver something worthy, Professor,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though you knew she could detect your hesitation.

As you spoke, your voice filled with a sweet blend of hesitation and boldness, Wanda realized she wanted more than just to crush your defiance. She wanted to understand why you did this—why you dared to draw her attention at every turn in this place. Why she couldn’t keep you under her control. Every word you said was a conscious effort to maintain power, but the truth was, she also felt something close to fear—fear that, somehow, you were seeing more than you should.

More than anyone ever had.

Wanda tilted her head slightly, her eyes fixed on yours as if searching for something. “I hope so. It would be a shame to waste the talent you have on laziness.”

You almost smiled but held back. She had just complimented you, even if indirectly. That was rare coming from her.

“I won’t disappoint you,” you replied, your voice low, almost a whisper.

“We’ll see,” she murmured, straightening up and casting you one last look before turning to leave. “Don’t waste my time, Miss Y/L/N.”

You watched her walk away, her firm steps echoing until they faded. Only then did you release the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

As intimidating as Wanda Maximoff was, you knew you couldn’t avoid her. You didn’t want to. The truth was, there was something about her that made you want to be noticed, even if it was with a stern gaze.

And you were willing to do whatever it took to earn that gaze.

At the end of another exhausting class, you sat on the grass near the university entrance, laughing at the silly jokes Kate made about a professor who, apparently, fell asleep during his own lectures.

"I swear, he blinked so slowly he had his eyes closed for, like, three minutes!" Kate gestured dramatically, pulling hearty laughter from Yelena, who was munching on something crunchy and undoubtedly unhealthy.

"Maybe he was just meditating," Bucky suggested, biting into an apple with the nonchalance of someone who had seen it all.

"Or he died, and no one noticed," Yelena retorted, her mouth full, making Kate almost choke from laughing too hard.

"You guys are terrible!" you chuckled, trying to focus on finishing your report on your laptop.

"No, you're terrible," Kate said, pointing at your screen. "Still working on that? You know Professor Maximoff is just going to look at it, laugh in your face, and toss it in the trash, right?"

You made a face, and Bucky gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Relax, you'll survive. Just don't look her in the eyes; rumor has it she can read souls."

"She already read mine and found it disappointing," you muttered, eliciting more laughter from Yelena and Kate.

Before the banter could continue, your phone buzzed. A notification flashed, summoning you to meet Wanda Maximoff in her office.

"Uh-oh," Kate teased, peering at the message. "Someone's in trouble!"

Yelena sighed dramatically. "Goodbye, my friend. It was nice knowing you."

"You're all horrible," you retorted, standing up with a knot in your stomach, trying not to let your growing nerves show.

“Come in,” her firm voice called out as soon as you knocked on the door.

With hesitant steps, you entered to find her seated behind the desk, her reading glasses perched on her nose and an open notebook in her hands. She didn’t even glance up as she began speaking.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"No, Professor," you replied nervously.

She closed the notebook with a sharp snap, finally lifting her piercing gaze to meet yours. "Let me clarify, then. This," she gestured toward a paper on the desk, "is unacceptable. Not only are you failing miserably in my subject, but you're also wasting my time and that of your peers."

"I can improve," you said quickly, the tension rising in your voice.

She tilted her head slightly, a cold smile tugging at her lips. "Improve? It's far too late for that. I’m failing you—preemptively. And understand this, darling, it’s not about me; it’s about you and your persistent inability to meet my expectations."

Heat flushed your face, and your hands trembled with adrenaline as you faced the weight of her authority. But you refused to back down so easily. "Maybe your expectations are too high," you shot back, crossing your arms defensively.

Wanda let out a low laugh, a sound that pierced your confidence like a dagger. She rose slowly, walking around the desk with calculated precision, as though she owned the room—and you.

"Do you really think you can challenge me here, in my office, after weeks of subpar performance?"

"I know I'm not perfect," you managed, your voice faltering slightly. "But that doesn’t give you the right to humiliate me like this."

She stopped just steps away from you, leaning in slightly so your faces were mere inches apart. Her emerald eyes seemed to strip away every fragment of pride you clung to.

"Oh, humiliate you? No, darling. You couldn’t even begin to comprehend what I’d do if I truly wanted to see you in a truly degrading position," she whispered, leaving your knees feeling like jelly.

Yet, there was something in her gaze—a blend of authority and something darker, more elusive—that stirred something within you. It wasn’t just anger or frustration; it was as though she was testing you, pushing you toward a boundary you didn’t know existed.

"Whatever you want," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of courage and vulnerability, "fail me. I won’t beg." You finished, pride laced in your tone.

Wanda’s lips curved into a smile that almost looked satisfied. "Such a brave little girl, aren’t you? And yet, here you are in my office, trying to justify this deplorable behavior."

She circled you like a predator stalking its prey, each step echoing as a reminder of who held the power. "But you know as well as I do that the fall of the proud from their pedestal is always glorious to watch."

"Then maybe you’ll fall along with me," you snapped in a moment of reckless defiance, instantly regretting the words.

But instead of anger, you heard a low, vibrating sound—Wanda’s deep, rich laugh. You swallowed hard, feeling your heart hammering against your ribs.

When Wanda stopped behind you, her presence was almost suffocating, the heat of her proximity wrapping around you like a smothering cloak. Her voice was a low whisper, heavy with a nearly physical weight.

"Tell me, Miss Y/L/N, just how far are you willing to go to save your scholarship? To avoid tarnishing your already fragile reputation?"

Her words struck you like a blow. Your heart raced, and tears welled in your eyes.

"Please," you began, your voice breaking. "I can’t fail. I’ll lose my scholarship. I… I can’t afford to stay in school if that happens."

Wanda arched a brow, as if dissecting you with pure disdain. Slowly, she leaned against the edge of the desk, her posture radiating dominance.

"Oh… so now you’re willing to beg? Where’s all that courage now?"

You nodded quickly, the lump in your throat making it hard to form words.

"Beg," she commanded, the word sharp and cutting.

"I… what?" you asked, lifting your head in shock.

"Beg," she repeated, slicing through the silence. "Show me that you understand your place. That you grasp what it takes to redeem yourself."

The knot in your throat tightened as your pride warred with the growing urge to yield. But deep down, you knew Wanda would always win. She always did, with a precision that was both terrifying and mesmerizing.

"Please," you whispered, barely audible.

She tilted her head, feigning that she hadn’t heard you. "Louder. Make it worth my attention."

Tears spilled freely now, and your hands clenched in your lap, struggling to hold back sobs. "Please, Professor. I’ll do anything. Just don’t fail me. I—I'm trying, really trying to do better…" you stammered, the words crumbling in your throat.

"Trying," she repeated with a smirk, standing and approaching slowly. Her measured steps were like a drumbeat of inevitability. "Trying isn’t good enough. Do you think I’m here to entertain mediocre excuses? To tolerate justifications from a student who can’t even meet my gaze as she speaks?"

Your heart pounded as her intense stare bore into you. You tried to speak, but your words refused to come.

Wanda took another step, so close now you could feel the heat radiating from her. "Look at me when I’m talking to you," she ordered, her voice low and cutting.

You obeyed, your tear-filled eyes meeting hers.

"I… I’m sorry," you managed to whisper, your voice shaking.

"Sorry doesn’t fix anything," she countered, leaning in close, her whisper brushing against your ear. "Do you think you have the right to waste my time?"

Wanda watched you from above, her eyes fixed on you as her mind oscillated between anger and a cruel pleasure she couldn’t fully comprehend. The humiliation you exuded, the vulnerability manifesting in every tear streaming down your face and the tremble in your voice, seemed to fuel something dark within her.

For a moment, Wanda felt as if something in her soul was awakening. An ancient warmth, a spark of long-dormant power, began stirring in her chest. It was as if parts of herself she barely understood in this universe were reacting directly to your submission and the palpable fear emanating from you.

When she noticed the warm liquid trickling down your legs, the realization of what you had done struck her like a wave. And in that moment, satisfaction coursed through her so intensely that her eyes glimmered with faint, red sparks.

The weight of Wanda’s psychological dominance was crushing, like an invisible hand tightening around your throat. It wasn’t just the fear she inspired; it was the way she dismantled every layer of your defenses, exposing parts of yourself you didn’t even know existed. She had a cruel talent for finding the cracks in your emotional armor, carving a direct path to the core of your vulnerability.

“Are you really this fragile?” Wanda asked, her voice laced with a soft disdain that was anything but accidental. She tilted her head, studying you like a predator sizing up its prey. “I haven’t even done anything to you yet, Dekta. It’s just... words. Just me.”

Her gaze was so piercing it felt like she was invading your mind, pulling out your innermost thoughts and laying them bare in the open. It was terrifying, but there was also something inexplicably captivating about the way she wielded power—not just over the room, but directly over you.

As she stepped closer again, her movements were slow, deliberate, as if savoring the moment. Wanda stopped just in front of you, leaning slightly so her eyes were level with yours. Her smile was almost gentle, but her eyes—those hauntingly captivating crimson eyes—betrayed the intensity that burned within.

“Do you know what I find fascinating?” she murmured, her voice now soft, almost seductive. “How you try to resist, try to hold on to some semblance of dignity and pride... but I see. I see exactly what’s happening here.”

There was something hypnotic in the way she spoke, as if every word was a sweet spell, wrapping around you and tightening with each syllable. Your body reacted before your mind could process it—cold sweat on your skin, a slight tremor in your muscles that you couldn’t control.

“I think you know I could destroy you with a snap of my fingers,” Wanda continued, the tip of her fingers brushing your face in a gesture that was almost tender. “But that would be too easy. Too quick. No, I prefer this... I prefer watching you break, piece by piece, knowing you’ll never be a match for me. Because you know I’m already in your head.”

Wanda stepped back slowly, an almost imperceptible smile curving her lips. “Pathetic,” she murmured, though there was something else in her voice—a dark satisfaction.

With your face flushed red with shame and your hands trembling, you stammered, “Please, professor. Forgive me. I won’t fail again.”

She tilted her head, as though assessing your sincerity, and finally allowed a small smile, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes.

“Perhaps you can be useful after all,” Wanda said, making a great effort to move away from you and your pleading eyes “But don’t think of this as a favor. You will work for me. As my assistant. That means you’ll be in my office every day after class, doing exactly what I tell you. Understood?”

“Yes, professor,” you replied, quickly wiping away the tears.

“Good girl,” she murmured, returning to her desk and resuming her paperwork. “Now leave. And don’t make me regret being generous.”

You left hastily, your face burning with embarrassment and your mind still reeling from everything that had just transpired. Deep down, a small part of you knew this second chance came at a high cost—but you also knew you had no choice.

Later, sitting on the central lawn with Kate, Yelena, and Bucky, the group’s usual chaos surrounded you. Yelena was stealing fries from Bucky’s lunch while Kate lamented a presentation she had to give.

“So, what’s the big news?” Yelena asked, her mouth full, noticing your troubled expression.

You hesitated before blurting it out. “I’m going to be Professor Maximoff’s assistant.”

The trio froze.

“What?!” Kate choked on her soda. “Professor Maximoff? The one who looks like she walked out of a gothic horror movie and makes the board of directors quake in their boots?”

“The very same,” you admitted, bracing for their reactions.

“No, this isn’t just weird; it’s a death sentence,” Bucky said, crossing his arms and giving you a serious look. “What did you do to deserve that?”

“She was going to fail me. I begged her not to, and this was the deal.”

Yelena burst into incredulous laughter. “So she made you grovel and now she’s turning you into her butler? I already like this woman.”

“It’s not funny!” you snapped, crossing your arms.

“It’s hilarious,” Yelena replied with a mischievous grin. “But seriously, do you need help? Should we start a student revolution for your freedom?”

“Or sabotage her office,” Kate suggested.

Bucky sighed. “You two are terrible advisors. Look, it might not be so bad. You’re smart. You’ll survive. Maybe even learn something… other than how to be terrified.”

You gave him a weak smile. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Buck.”

That evening in the dorm, you sat on your bed hugging a pillow, while Darcy worked on her laptop at the desk nearby. She wore an old t-shirt and shorts, her hair tied up haphazardly in a way that somehow made her even more stunning to you.

“So, what happened today?” Darcy asked without looking up from her screen.

“I got ‘promoted’ to Professor Maximoff’s assistant,” you said, your voice heavy with defeat.

Darcy chuckled and finally turned to you. “Seriously? That woman’s terrifying. How did you manage that?”

“It’s not like I wanted to,” you muttered.

She walked over and sat beside you, leaning in casually but close enough for you to catch her scent. “I think you must be special to her. She doesn’t seem like the type to do favors.”

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment,” you said, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

Darcy met your eyes, hers sparkling with a mixture of amusement and something more subtle, almost predatory. “You look so good today.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“Just sayin’,” she teased, laughing lightly, though her tone carried an edge of something deeper.

You knew Darcy enjoyed toying with you, pushing your limits. It felt like she understood how you felt and used it to keep you on edge, perpetually yearning.

“It’ll be fine with Maximoff,” Darcy said, squeezing your shoulder lightly. “And if she’s too mean, just call me. I’ll protect you.”

“I think you’d be the one needing protection,” you joked, trying to mask how much her touch affected you.

“Maybe,” Darcy replied with a playful smirk, giving you a wink before returning to her laptop as if nothing had happened.

And there you sat, watching her, caught between hope and frustration—an impossible tug-of-war Darcy seemed to enjoy orchestrating.

[...]

You sat in an uncomfortably stiff chair in Professor Maximoff's office. The space was pristine—shelves lined with worn-spined books, meticulously organized as if by military precision. Sunlight streamed through the large window, casting a warm glow on the polished wood of her desk.

Your gaze, however, was fixated on a silver frame atop the desk. Inside was a photo of Wanda beside a tall, elegant man—Vision, the name you'd heard whispered through the hallways—and two smiling children, Tommy and Billy. The image radiated serene, stable happiness, the kind that felt utterly unattainable to you.

Your chest tightened. That was her life: perfect and orderly, with a loving husband, happy kids, and a flawless career. In contrast, you felt like an intruder, someone scrambling to hold it together while navigating college and life.

“You’re not allowed to snoop.” Wanda’s sharp voice cut through the air behind you, making your shoulders stiffen.

You turned in the chair, wide eyes meeting hers. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

“Sorry,” you muttered, quickly averting your gaze.

“You always have something to apologize for, don’t you?” Wanda’s voice was calm but laced with disdain as she walked toward you, her heels clicking against the hardwood, each sound amplifying the tension. “Do you know what happens to little girls who break the rules?”

“I didn’t mean to; I just…”

She raised a hand, silencing you immediately.

“I don’t want excuses. If you’re going to work here, you’ll learn to follow the rules. Rule number one: my personal life is none of your business. Rule number two: what happens in this office stays in this office. Understood?”

You swallowed hard, shame warming your face. “Yes, Professor Maximoff.”

“Good.” She leaned in slightly, her face only inches from yours. “Do you know what else I expect from you?”

“I… I don’t know,” you stammered, your voice faltering under her piercing gaze.

“Excellence,” she murmured, the word a threat and a promise all at once. “Nothing less. And if I sense you’re not giving your best…”

She didn’t finish the sentence, but the look in her eyes said enough.

You nodded quickly, the weight of shame and insecurity pressing heavily on your shoulders. “I’ll do my best.”

“I hope so,” Wanda replied, straightening her posture and smoothing her blazer with a decisive gesture. “Now, organize these papers and make sure my desk is spotless. You have thirty minutes.”

You quickly rose to comply, trying to ignore the persistent tightness in your chest as you passed the desk again. The photo still sat there, smiling at you like a cruel reminder of everything you’d never have.

As you began sorting through the papers, Wanda stood nearby, her eyes fixed on you. At first, it seemed she was merely ensuring you were doing the task correctly.

But then something shifted.

It was subtle at first, almost imperceptible. Wanda’s jaw relaxed slightly, her breathing became deeper, less controlled. Her eyes, sharp and calculating moments before, began to wander over the movements of your body. They lingered longer than they should have—on your legs, where the hem of your uniform skirt rode up slightly more than intended when you leaned forward.

Something inside her stirred, a spark kindling deep in her chest.

Wanda blinked, once, twice, as if trying to clear her thoughts, but the sensation persisted. It wasn’t just your presence that unnerved her, but the vulnerability radiating from your every gesture. The way your fingers trembled as you handled the papers, the flush on your cheeks, the faint hitch in your breath when you felt her gaze. It was intoxicating, feeding a part of her she had long suppressed.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, the faintest glimmer of red flashing at her fingertips before she reined it in. It was enough to make her close her eyes for a moment, battling the power threatening to surface.

“Control yourself,” she muttered under her breath, the words so soft they were almost inaudible.

But it wasn’t so simple. The abyss within her was widening, and the Scarlet Witch—the part of her she had locked away in chains—was straining against its binds.

She tried to look away, but her thoughts were already spiraling. Blurred memories surfaced like waves, unrelenting: warmth, the soft sound of breathless gasps, the damp heat of skin pressed against skin. Her mouth went dry, and a familiar heat spread through her chest.

“You really don’t know how to be appropriate, do you?” her voice came out harsher than she intended, though it carried an unspoken weight she couldn’t hide.

You froze, your hands pausing mid-motion. “What did I do now?” you asked hesitantly, your voice trembling.

“That skirt,” Wanda pointed, her expression deliberately neutral as she fought to maintain control. “Do you think it’s suitable for a professional environment? Or are you just trying to distract everyone?”

Your face flushed immediately, and you tugged at the hem of your skirt instinctively. “It’s the college uniform… I don’t choose the length.”

Wanda took a step closer, her presence suddenly overwhelming. “You don’t choose, but you certainly enjoy the attention, don’t you?”

“No, I swear I don’t…” your voice cracked, and you dropped your gaze, discomfort radiating from you.

Wanda leaned in, her words brushing past your ear with a mix of reproach and something else you couldn’t quite name. “I don’t like distractions, especially the ones coming from you. So if you want to stay here, learn to be invisible.”

You nodded quickly, unable to respond as the weight of her gaze bore down on you.

Wanda stepped back, straightening and exhaling softly, as though trying to smother the heat coursing through her. She knew it was wrong—knew she should stop—but the power and control she felt in reducing you to submission were addictive.

“Finish this and leave,” she said, turning toward the window, as if the view outside might cleanse her thoughts. “And next time… be more mindful of what you wear.”

You continued organizing the papers, her words echoing in your mind. That tone—a mix of scolding and something unnameable—sent shivers down your spine.

“Distractions, especially the ones coming from you.”

You weren’t sure why, but the idea of destabilizing someone as composed as Wanda Maximoff—even slightly—sent your heart racing. She was practically untouchable, the most feared and respected figure on campus, and yet… something in her gaze, in the faint tremor of her voice, ignited a spark in you.

You glanced at Wanda, who now stood with her back to you, her posture rigid, hands clasped behind her. Deliberately this time, you leaned forward slightly, letting the skirt ride up just enough to test the waters.

“Leave,” she commanded, her tone clipped, without even looking at you. But there was something strained about her voice, something forced.

You obeyed but couldn’t resist one last glance before walking out. Her face remained calm, but the tension in her shoulders and the way her fingers gripped the edge of the desk betrayed her.

Maybe you weren’t as invisible as she wanted you to be.

[...]

The first time Wanda saw you, something inside her stirred. It wasn’t hatred, nor was it passion. It was a pulsating, inexplicable irritation, like an itch she couldn’t quite reach. You weren’t particularly remarkable—at least, you shouldn’t have been. Just an ordinary student, dressed simply, with an attitude that oscillated between nervousness and boldness. But there was something about you, something Wanda couldn’t ignore.

Your clumsy, awkward demeanor seemed tailor-made to test her. That first day, when you rushed into class late, cheeks flushed, stumbling over your own feet and nearly dropping your backpack, Wanda couldn’t help but roll her eyes. A strange, unjustifiable anger bubbled in her chest, as if your mere presence was a personal affront.

But it wasn’t just that. As she watched you shrink under her sharp gaze, something else began to stir beneath the surface—a familiar energy she had long since forgotten. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. Her fingers tingled, and the air around her seemed to hum faintly.

“Do you think you can waltz into my class late and just take your seat as if nothing happened?” Wanda’s voice was as sharp as a blade.

You mumbled an apology, stammering, and Wanda saw the blush on your face deepen. Your vulnerability should have soothed her irritation, but instead, it only fueled it. There was something deeply satisfying about seeing you so submissive, so intimidated.

In the days that followed, Wanda began noticing small details that annoyed her even more. The way you chewed on the tip of your pen while trying to grasp her explanations. The muffled sound of your whispers to classmates, though you clearly lacked the courage to challenge her openly. Your almost naive persistence in trying to please her, even when she deliberately ignored your efforts, made her grit her teeth—and feel something else. A thrill that defied logic.

And then there was that moment when you raised your hand to answer a question, hesitant but resolute. Your eyes met hers, and Wanda felt a pulse of something deep within her. Your presence was like a crooked mirror, reflecting parts of herself she didn’t want to see, parts she preferred to keep buried.

She didn’t understand why her powers—dormant for years, stifled by a “perfect” and mundane life—seemed to stir every time you were near. Perhaps it was the way you appeared so fragile and yet so impossible to ignore. Or maybe it was something deeper, something Wanda didn’t want to name, because to do so would mean admitting that you, in some way, held power over her.

And Wanda Maximoff couldn’t bear the thought of not being in control.

Now, as the room lights were dim, and classical music played softly in the background, Vision was attentive as always, delicately tracing the contours of Wanda’s body with steady hands. Yet her mind was elsewhere.

She tried to focus on the man’s hands caressing her skin, tried to feel the heat, the passion that once united them. But every touch of his felt pale, distant, almost lifeless. As if something essential was missing.

It came suddenly, like a raw and uncontrollable wave: the image of you. Not the “you” who was both docile and irreverent, always striving to please her, but the “you” who was desperate, tear-eyed, and begging for a forgiveness she had denied.

The muffled sound of your pleading echoed in her memory, and Wanda felt the warmth Vision was trying to rekindle explode with an almost painful intensity. The memory of the tremor in your voice, the way you begged, submitted, and allowed her to hold power over you until you wet yourself, tears streaming down your face as she crushed you emotionally…

A heat surged through her body. Her heart raced, and she felt a sharp tingling in her hands and her own core. Unknowingly, red energy began to spark around her fingers.

Vision noticed, tilting his head slightly but misunderstanding. “Is everything alright, my love?” he asked, his voice as gentle as ever.

“Yes,” Wanda lied, though her breathing was heavy, almost ragged. She closed her eyes, trying to push away the guilt beginning to surface. But the pleasure was far more real now.

The image of you lingered, growing stronger. The way your short skirt revealed just enough of your backside to make her crave more, your legs trembling with nervousness, the blush that painted your face as you shrank under her gaze. It was wrong, but Wanda couldn’t stop. You were fragile, so easy to break, and the thought awakened something ancient and primal within her.

She bit her lower lip hard, stifling a moan that wasn’t meant for him. No, it was for the vulnerability she had seen in you. For the way your submission made her feel something she hadn’t felt in years: raw, palpable, and absolute power.

Wanda longed to have you begging for her, but in a different way now. She wanted to press your pretty face between her thighs, smothering you until you turned purple from her suffocation. Wanda wanted to shove her fingers into your mouth, making you drench them with your saliva—so it’d be easier to slide them inside you.

Could you be a virgin? Pure?

At that moment, Wanda only wanted to wear a strap-on and take you from behind, punishing you for wearing that tiny skirt and for having such a sharp tongue. She’d thrust into you so hard that the only thing you’d be able to scream would be her name, like a sacred and solitary mantra—as if she were a goddess needing prayers to grow stronger. You’d offer her your sweet little cunt.

Wanda wanted to pour herself into you, to leave her seed inside you... she wanted… Wanda wanted...

“Wanda, your magic…” Vision stepped back slightly, puzzled.

The heat within her grew, fueled by the energy now visibly pulsing in waves around her hands. Scarlet hues filled the room, and the woman nearly floated.

She opened her eyes, realizing the lights in the room flickered and the bed trembled faintly. “I… I’m fine. Just keep going…” she insisted, gently pushing him.

“Perhaps you should rest, my dear,” Vision suggested, ever logical.

Wanda nodded, wanting to end the moment before he noticed anything more. He left the room, respecting her space as he always did. As soon as the door closed, Wanda collapsed onto the bed, panting.

The realization hit her like a punch. She had nearly climaxed thinking about you—not Vision, the perfect husband, the father of her children, but you, a pathetic and insignificant student. Her soul twisted with hatred at the truth, but hatred was a fuel. It ignited her.

“Little bitch,” Wanda whispered to herself, her words heavy with a rage that seemed endless. She got up abruptly, her bare feet meeting the cold floor.

She walked to the large mirror in the corner of the room, staring at her reflection with eyes glowing redder than they should. “What’s wrong with me?” she murmured, though she knew the answer. It wasn’t a mistake. It was a desire so primal it eroded her reason, leaving only instinct in its place.

She closed her eyes again, trying to banish the image, but it was useless. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, anger boiling under her skin. “I don’t want this,” she said louder, as if speaking the words aloud could undo the knot of desire and hatred tightening around her.

But the Scarlet Witch within her smiled. It wasn’t about wanting or not wanting. It was about giving in. About realizing that the control Wanda prided herself on was slipping through her fingers when it came to you—as if she couldn’t control you.

She hated what had just happened, but she hated even more how much she enjoyed it.

When Vision murmured something as he reentered the room, Wanda turned to look at him. There was a calmness on his face that brutally contrasted with the storm inside her. He loved her. He would do anything for her.

And yet, it was you that Wanda wanted to crush. It was you she wanted on your knees, sobbing, begging.

And it was you who, somehow, made her feel alive again.

For the first time in a long time, the Witch within her desired something.

~*~

As the great philosopher Selena Gomez once said: If you wanna, come and get it

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[randomshyperson]

Wanda, touching, 20.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: bandaging/stitching up an injury | warnings: kissing, fluff.

challenge masterlist | general masterlist

The pain from small cuts is minor and easy to ignore with the close proximity of your faces.

Wanda is so busy checking your focused features on the task of preparing her bandages, that she only realizes she’s staring when she catches the teasing smile you’re not bothering to hide.

She feels her face warming, but she doesn’t look away.

“It doesn’t take a mind reader to know what you’re thinking.” You mumble, a bandage stained with her blood folded between your fingers. The item is discarded in the trash under the iron desk, and Wanda misses your gaze on her when you have to pull away to do so.

“It doesn’t.” She retorts. “You never needed powers to read me anyway.”

You grin at yourself with her words, adjusting the chair near the counter to sit down. You shuffle your feet so that you’re sitting across from her, at an uneven height due to the counter Wanda is leaning against. Looking up at her face, your hands move to play with the hooks of her jeans.

“You think I’m mad at you.” You say, looking her in the eyes. Wanda swallows, but your expression softens and she feels a significant amount of the weight leave her shoulders when you shake your head no, signaling that you really aren't. There's a pause before you continue speaking. "It's true that I wish you would be more careful. But I will never be mad at you for doing your job."

You pull the hooks gently, and her body moves forward. She waits for you to plant your feet on the floor so the chair doesn't sag backward under the extra weight once she sits on your lap.

She almost gets too distracted to talk, but still manages to mumble: "You say you're not angry, but I can feel your energy."

Your arms wrap around her, and the warmth is quite welcome. But even though you’re looking at her face, you don't focus on her eyes. You seem unable to ignore the bruises across her face. Wanda knows how much you hate seeing her hurt. So she adds: "And I also don't need to read your mind to know when you lie to me."

You sigh, a small smile forming on your lips then. "Maybe I cursed Steve on the way here." You murmur, arms hugging her a little tighter. Wanda lets her hands rest on your shoulders, unable to resist the urge to lean towards you. With narrowed eyes, you add: "Maybe I even punched him."

The confession comes half an inch from her lips, and Wanda ends up chuckling against your mouth. You pout when she pulls away and pats your shoulder in reprimand.

There are murmurs about it being no one’s fault, about the job being hard or something, but you stand up with a sudden urgency. Wanda chokes on an affected sigh as she is pressed against the counter, your mouth firm and hungry on hers.

Neither she nor you remember where you are, or how visible you are when with your mouth pressed into hers, tongues dancing and fighting for dominance. Everything is background when you're together. At least, for a moment.

Someone clears their throat behind you, and suddenly she does remember that you’re both in the compound’s infirmary and the glass windows of that room too.

You hide your state with a rusky groan and a crossing of your arms, but Wanda feels very self-conscious about the flush on her neck and chest. It’s easy to hate the cleavage of her outfit at times like these.

"Bruce thinks it's best to run some tests on you, Maximoff. At least an x-ray, just in case." Natasha lets you both know, a small smile playing on her lips at interrupting such an inappropriate make-out session in the middle of the day. "Will you give us a minute, Miss Stark, or should I wait until you get your medical degree to run the tests yourself?" 

You roll your eyes at the teasing. Natasha will definitely mention to your dad that you've been skipping classes again to take care of your girlfriend, but you steal another kiss from Wanda on your way out anyway. 

She's worth every bit of trouble.

[fandomnerd9602]

Heat?

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

That doe of yours was insatiable. Plain and simple.

Even after you found the boys, Wanda was bent on finding any and every excuse to pull you off somewhere private.

Her kisses, her moans, the way she wraps herself around you, it was all so intoxicating.

You loved her and she loved you. Plain and simple. Or so you thought.

You found yourself in the Westview sanctuary break room one morning. You were already on your second cup of coffee, Wanda kept you up for most of the previous night. And somehow she had to energy to skip thru the hallways happy as can be, do her work diligently and effectively.

And here you were, tired and content, nursing another coffee from your Visit Wakanda cup.

A familiar groan wakes you up a little as your future in-law, Pietro, wanders in. His face carries the same bags under the eyes and tired expression you saw in the mirror.

“Hey bratok, any more coffee?” he smiles at you. “Rough night?”

“Of a sorts” you retort.

“Nattie,” he whistles, “she is a firecracker now. Those hybrid heat cycles.”

“Heat cycles?”

“Yeah,” he takes a seat across from you, “female hybrids are insatiable in their heat cycle. I thought you knew that”

Your face went pale. Wanda was insatiable lately, she was practically pawing at you as soon as the boys were asleep. Could it all be because of some uncontrollable urge?

“W-would Wanda’s match up with Natasha’s?”

“Well they are mere months apart in age so…yeah” pietro takes a sip of his coffee. “I wouldn’t worry though. Nattie loves me and Wanda loves you. Maybe a little too much”

You found your mind racing. Thoughts of your doe, your boys, this newly found out heat cycle. How far back would it go? Did she ever truly love you?

The questions probed at your mind all day and into the evening.

Later that evening, your loving doe came down the stairs, happy as could be. Wanda was dressed in a mini nightdress and silk robe. She was definitely trying to push your buttons. But was it just from the heat cycle?

“The boys are asleep.” She giggles as she nuzzles into your lap on the couch. “Wanna watch something?”

“Dick Van Dyke?” You try to maintain composure. She was in your lap, letting out little purrs.

Her giggles from the following thirty minutes of yours and hers favorite show was intoxicating. You loved her giggles and laughs.

And then she turned to you. “Are you tired, detka?”

“Not really”

She purrs, “neither am I” she slips into your lap, wrapping her arms around your neck.

She begins kissing you. One of her hands begins to play with your belt.

You gently put your hands on her shoulders and push her away. Wanda’s eyes immediately spring to worry.

“What’s wrong, detka?” She takes your face in her hands.

“We can’t. Not like this.”

“What?” Her eyes show hints of sadness and perhaps regret.

“I love you Wanda, so much. But I can’t take advantage of you when you’re in your heat cycle. I-I need to be sure that we love each other for the right reasons”

Wanda begins to giggle again. And then it grows into a full on laugh as she collapses against the couch. She tries to bury her face in her hands, to hide the growing embarrassing blush.

“Detka,” she giggles, “I’m not in my heat cycle. Did Pietro tell you that?!”

“Yes”

She recomposes herself and takes your hands in hers. “Detka I am with you because I love you for everything you are. You are the most thoughtful and loving mate I could ever wish for.”

“You are the most amazing mate” you smile at her, kissing her palms, “you gave me a home, a family. I love you”

“I love you” she blushes. “And I only want to show you how much joy you bring me.”

“So you’re completely insatiable…”

“On my own terms,” she giggles. “Besides…my heat cycle doesn’t start till next month”

And with that she gives you a wink before cuddling into your side, ready to watch another episode of your shared favorite show.

Meanwhile at Natasha’s den, Pietro was struggling to keep his own mate at bay.

“Down Nattie!” He tried to keep her away but that wolf was just so seductive.

“Down? I dare you to keep me down” she growls happily. Her wolf tail swishing back and forth seductively.

Pietro couldn’t say no to that.

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @idkwhatever580 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @softlymaximoff @russianredassassin @revanshand @aloneodi @julieromanoff