#for your own sanity Wanda do not look

[tinkertoysdamn]

[claramelooo]

Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late, I'm at a sleepover! Enjoy!

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT!

Warning: +18, discipline

Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat Fem reader

Summary: After forgetting a date with Wanda, you get what you deserve

Read here: Prologue | Part 1 - Predator | Part 2 - The Prey | Part 3 - On your Knees | Part 4 - The Spider | Part 5 - The Lamb | Part 6 - Pure Crimson

VELVET CHAINS

DEPENDECE

The days passed, and you remained unaware of the storm of emotions brewing within Wanda. You felt safe, confident by her side.

Wanda had shaped your self-confidence, helping you develop a sense of identity beyond the submissive, uninspired version your parents had tried to mold. Over time, through playful glances and mischievous smiles, she realized how unique your personality truly was.

Your witty comebacks, questionable humor, and untimely jokes—those were the traits that made you so singular in her eyes. She watched you as if every move you made was a piece of a puzzle she could never fully solve, yet she couldn't stop trying.

It was your carefree nature that unsettled her. You were like a hurricane—unpredictable, irreverent, and utterly at ease being yourself around her. Wanda, so accustomed to meticulous control and carefully planning every step, found her sanity tested by your provocations.

Like that afternoon.

"Do you always have to have the last word?" Wanda asked, raising an eyebrow as she stared at you from across the room.

"Only when someone gives me a reason," you replied, resting your chin on your hand, a smile playing on your lips—half challenge, half charm.

Wanda crossed her arms, slowly walking toward you.

"You know that drives me crazy, don't you?"

"Maybe," you teased, your tone light but full of mischief. "But you love it."

She stopped in front of you, leaning just enough for her presence to completely envelop you. Her green eyes sparkled with that familiar mix of exasperation and fascination.

"And why would I love something so infuriating?"

You shrugged, tilting your head with an innocent smile full of unspoken intentions.

"Because it means you never know what to expect from me. And you like the challenge, Wanda. Admitting it won’t kill you."

Her laugh was low, almost dark, but you saw the corner of her mouth curl upward.

"You’re unbelievable," she murmured, taking your hand and pulling you closer—so close you could feel the heat radiating from her body. "And do you know what the problem with that is?"

"Hmm?" you prompted, looking up at her from beneath your lashes with the most playful expression you could muster.

"It’s that I never want you to change."

The admission carried a weight that caught you off guard. For a moment, the air between you grew heavy with unspoken emotions. But instead of retreating, you chose to break the tension in your own way.

"So, if I make another bad joke right now, you’ll still like me?"

Wanda sighed, but there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

"Go ahead and find out, little one."

You didn’t waste a second.

"What’s the name of the sleepiest superhero? Napman—because he fights sleep!"

Wanda closed her eyes for a second, as if summoning patience. When she opened them, her gaze was intense.

"See? This is what drives me insane."

"But you still like it, don’t you?" you teased, leaning into her, confidence radiating from every move you made.

Wanda didn’t respond with words, but the slow smile spreading across her lips was answer enough.

Hours later, you were curled up on the couch under a blanket, a book open on your lap. Wanda was in the kitchen, focused on preparing something, as she often did, and you felt comfortable enough to be entirely yourself—playful, sassy, and a little bratty—the way only you could be around her.

"Wanda, you’re taking forever!" you whined, throwing your head back dramatically. "I’m going to starve before you’re done!"

She appeared in the kitchen doorway, one eyebrow arched, her gaze making you shiver—but not enough to stop your antics.

"Then come here and do it yourself if you’re in such a hurry," she said calmly, though her tone carried that edge that always made you think twice.

You looked at her with a mischievous grin, knowing exactly what you were doing.

"Oh, but you do it so much better. I deserve the best, don’t I?"

Wanda set down what she was holding and walked toward you, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She stopped beside the couch, looking at you with that perfect mix of exasperation and amusement only she could manage.

"You do deserve the best. But do you know what else you deserve?" She leaned down, taking the book from your lap and setting it aside. "Discipline. Lots of discipline."

Your smile faltered for a second, but you quickly recovered. “Discipline? Why? I’m an angel!”

Wanda chuckled softly, leaning in closer until your faces were just inches apart. “An angel? Are you sure about that? Because to me, you seem more like… a brat.”

You tried to hold back your laughter but failed. “And what are you going to do about it, mommy?” The nickname came out in a challenging tone, and you knew you were playing with fire.

She narrowed her eyes, a slow smile forming on her lips. “Want to find out?”

Before you could respond, Wanda grabbed you by the waist, lifting you off the couch as if you weighed nothing. You squirmed, laughing loudly as she carried you toward the kitchen.

“Wanda! Put me down!” you protested, though your laughter betrayed any attempt to sound serious.

“Not until you learn to stop provoking me. Now, cut the apples, darling. I’m making pie.” She set you down on one of the kitchen chairs, returning to the stove with a satisfied expression.

You crossed your arms, pretending to be indignant. “This is an abuse of power.”

Wanda glanced over her shoulder, smiling. “This is love, my sweet. Now stay quiet and let me finish dinner, or I might come up with other ways to deal with your brattiness.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but her expression made you think twice. Instead, you grabbed one of the apples from the counter and started eating it, that mischievous glint still in your eyes.

Wanda shook her head, laughing softly. She knew you wouldn’t change, and deep down, she didn’t want you to. After all, it was precisely your antics that made every moment with you so unique.

[...]

The smell of freshly brewed coffee and cinnamon donuts filled the small café in the heart of the city. You were sitting in a quiet corner, surrounded by books, notebooks, and loose papers. A cup of cappuccino sat cooling by your side as you scribbled furiously, eyes fixed on a seemingly endless reading list.

“This looks like torture,” Yelena remarked, appearing beside you with a tray in her hands. She sat across from you, balancing her coffee cup and a plate with a croissant.

“It’s Yale,” you replied with a sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Not exactly a walk in the park.”

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Yelena asked, frowning slightly. Despite the playful tone, there was genuine concern in her voice.

“Because it’s my dream,” you said firmly, shrugging. “And dreams require sacrifices.”

Yelena laughed, tearing off a piece of her croissant. “Always so dramatic. Relax a little, will you? You’re doing great. Besides, nobody can be perfect all the time.”

“Easy for you to say,” you teased, glancing up at her. “Some of us have to work for what we want.”

“Ouch,” she said, placing a hand over her chest as if wounded. “You’re cruel. And speaking of hard work…” Yelena looked around before leaning over the table. “I have to ask. What’s going on between you and Wanda?”

Your heart stopped for a moment. Her tone wasn’t accusatory or suspicious, so you decided to test the waters.

“What do you mean?”

Yelena frowned. “‘What do you mean,’ seriously? You’re temporarily staying in that witch’s house. Do you realize how concerning that sounds?”

You let out a relieved laugh. “Witch? What are you talking about? Wanda’s an amazing woman!” Yelena gave you an incredulous look.

She crossed her arms, leaning back in the chair as if she were assessing you. Her gaze was half playful, half interrogative. “Amazing woman?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are we talking about the same Wanda who, with just a look, makes everyone either want to run away or kneel? Because, honestly, this ‘amazing woman’ has a pretty… controlling vibe.”

You laughed, stirring your coffee to avoid her gaze. “She just has a strong personality. She’s determined, you know? It’s not like she’s mean.” You replied—cheeks burning as memories of the previous night flashed through your mind, where you learned firsthand that Wanda could be mean, after all.

Yelena scoffed. “Oh, sure. And I’m the Queen of England.”

“I’m serious, Yelena,” you insisted, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. “She’s incredible. Smart, funny… and she treats me well.”

“Treats you well, huh?” Yelena leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. “That’s a cute way of saying you’re being super gay for her, isn’t it?”

Your eyes widened, and you groaned in exasperation. “Yelena! Stop it! Wanda’s married!” You made exaggerated hand gestures, hoping to wave away any suspicion.

“Yeah, I know. And yet, here you are, stammering with flushed cheeks.” The blonde pinched your cheeks between her fingers, making you yelp in protest.

“All right, all right!” Yelena raised her hands in surrender. “I won’t tell anyone about your little crush on the married milf.”

You let out a sigh of relief, but you couldn’t help casting a cautious glance at Yelena. “I don’t have a crush on anyone!” you insisted, crossing your arms and trying to sound firm.

Yelena smirked, the mischievous glint in her eyes showing she didn’t believe you for a second. “Oh, sure, because not having a crush perfectly explains why you get all flustered just saying her name.”

“You’re unbearable,” you muttered, grabbing your coffee cup to hide behind it.

“I’m unbearable, but I’m right,” Yelena countered, leaning forward with a conspiratorial look. “So, what did she do to make you like this? Was it that killer stare? Or maybe the way she talks, all authoritative?”

“Yelena!” you exclaimed, nearly spilling your coffee.

“Ah, I knew it!” Yelena slapped the table, laughing loud enough to make a few people in the café glance your way. “You like it when she bosses you around, don’t you?”

“I’m going to kill you,” you said through gritted teeth, though your face was so hot it could have set the entire café on fire.

“Relax, no one here’s judging,” she said, raising her hands again in mock innocence. “I’m just saying that if it were me, I’d probably be swooning too. I mean, the woman’s a total icon of milf power.”

“Milf power? Where do you even come up with this stuff?” you asked, laughing despite yourself.

“I’m Russian. Every Russian knows this,” Yelena replied with a dramatic wave of her hand.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling. Yelena always had a way of disarming you, even when she was being completely irritating.

Yelena raised her cup as if making a toast. “Now, spill. Does she kiss well or not?”

“Yelena!” you exclaimed, feeling your face heat up even more.

“Oh, come on, I deserve to know! If you’re going to tangle with a powerful witch, at least give me the details.”

You shook your head, laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re predictable,” Yelena shot back with a wink. “But that’s fine. I’ll find out one way or another.”

Her laughter echoed through the café, and for the first time in days, you felt a little lighter.

[...]

When you got home, you immediately sensed something was wrong. The house was too quiet. Wanda was in the living room, arms crossed, her eyes glinting with an intensity that made you freeze in the doorway.

“Hi,” you began hesitantly, feeling the tension in the air.

“Did you have fun?” Wanda asked, her voice low but laced with controlled anger.

You swallowed hard, nervousness coursing through your veins. “Yes…” you replied, testing her mood.

Wanda tilted her head slightly, as if assessing your response. The smile that curled on her lips was small but completely devoid of humor. “That’s good,” she said, her sweetness as sharp as a blade. “Because while you were out having fun, I was here… thinking.”

“I wasn’t… I was studying.” Your justification was completely ignored as Wanda started walking toward you, her movements feline.

Wanda took a step closer, and you instinctively stepped back. “I was thinking about how foolish I was to believe you knew your place.”

“My place?” you repeated, surprise mixing with your growing unease.

“Yes, your place,” she replied, her voice colder now. “By my side. Here. With me.”

“Wanda, I didn’t do anything wrong,” you started, but she raised a hand, cutting you off.

“Exactly! You didn’t!” she questioned, her eyes blazing with anger. “You were out with her while I was here… waiting for you for tea.”

As she mentioned it, your gaze fell on the tea set, perfectly arranged—you cursed yourself mentally. You and Wanda had developed small rituals throughout the day, and tea time was one of them.

She would sip her tea while you lay on her lap, listening as she read to you. Guilt stabbed at your heart.

“I… I just went out with a friend. Yelena is a childhood friend,” you argued, trying to remain calm, but her intensity was almost overwhelming.

“Friend,” Wanda repeated, as if tasting the word and finding it repugnant. “Is that why you ignored my messages? Came back smelling like coffee and laughter that wasn’t mine?”

When Wanda realized you’d been with Yelena, it was as if something inside her cracked. Her first reaction was disbelief—how could you be with someone else? It wasn’t conventional jealousy, not the kind that came with exclusivity. It was something deeper, primal, a visceral cry of possession she didn’t know she had until she met you.

She tried to focus on other things, but her thoughts kept circling back to the image of you laughing with Yelena. The smile she considered hers, willingly shared with someone else. As hours passed and her messages remained unanswered, every minute felt like a cruel reminder of her lack of control.

When the sacred tea time you both shared came and went without you, Wanda felt a knot in her stomach. A simple tradition, but one that held deep significance for her—a moment of connection, a bubble where the outside world ceased to exist. And you had broken that.

Anger consumed her, a heat rising through her veins and burning away any rationality. It wasn’t fair. She knew that. You hadn’t promised her exclusivity, but her heart screamed otherwise. She hated herself for being so dependent, so vulnerable.

When she finally heard the door open, it was like the eye of a storm. But when she saw you, with your hesitant smile and disarming tone, the anger surged back in full force.

Her anger wasn’t just about you spending the day with someone else. It was about the vulnerability you made her feel, the intensity of her emotions that she couldn’t control. Wanda didn’t want to feel this way, but at the same time, she didn’t want you to be anyone else’s.

“Wanda, this doesn’t make sense,” you said, frustration building. “I love being with you. Why are you acting like this?”

The confession hit Wanda like a shock, but it didn’t extinguish the fire in her eyes. Instead, she took another step toward you, closing the space between you.

“Because I don’t share what’s mine,” she said, her voice low and weighted.

Before you could respond, Wanda gripped your wrist firmly—but not painfully—and pulled you closer, your faces so near you could feel her breath.

“You need to understand something,” she said, her tone so serious it stole your breath. “I’m yours. And you… you’re mine.”

The weight of her words crashed over you like an avalanche, leaving your body tense. Her gaze darkened even further, and before you could process it, her lips captured yours—demanding, possessive.

There was no gentleness in the kiss, only raw intensity and desire. When she finally pulled back, her eyes were blazing, as if the entire world had disappeared and left only the two of you.

Wanda murmured, her tone slightly softer but still brimming with authority. “I think we need a little reminder of who’s in charge here, don’t you?”

Wanda stood in the center of the room, arms crossed over her chest, her piercing gaze fixed on you. The intensity of her eyes made your skin prickle, but her voice remained calm, as if each word was meticulously chosen.

You know you made me furious today," she began, her voice low and controlled but with a sharp edge. "And when I feel this way, we need to address it properly. First of all, what's the safeword?"

"Green to continue, yellow to slow down, and red to stop," you answered in a near whisper, tension pulsing through your body.

She nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Exactly. Now, I want you to know I have no intention of hurting you, but you need to learn not to test my boundaries. Understood?"

"Yes," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

"Good girl," Wanda said, her tone firm but tinged with a tenderness that made your knees weak. "Now, lie across my lap."

Your breathing quickened, but you obeyed. With trembling fingers, you unbuttoned your pants and slid them down, draping yourself over her lap, your heart pounding in your chest.

Wanda placed her hand gently on your back, stroking your skin in an almost comforting gesture. "We’re going to count together. Each spank, understood?"

"Yes, ma’am," you replied, your tone small and submissive.

“Why are you being punished, Y/n?” she asked, her hand stroking your ass with a firm grip.

Your lower lip trembled as embarrassment washed over you, leaving you feeling exposed.

"I… I didn’t reply to mommy’s messages, and I forgot about our plans together."

"Good girl," Wanda said, already feeling some of her anger dissipate. "Identifying and acknowledging your mistakes is a big step. I’m very proud of you, dekta."

The first spank came swiftly, making you gasp at the initial sting. "One," you said, your voice shaky.

The second was firmer but still controlled. "Two."

As the spanks continued, the heat in your skin grew. Each one was meticulously measured, never crossing the boundaries you both had established. Wanda’s hand was firm, but you knew she was entirely in control.

By the eighth spank, tears began streaming down your face. Your voice quivered as you counted, "Eight."

Wanda immediately paused, her hand resting on your warm skin. "What’s the color?" she asked, her tone now filled with concern.

"Green," you responded between sobs, though she didn’t seem fully convinced. She sighed, stroking your skin gently.

"Are you okay? Do you want to keep going?" The anger that had consumed Wanda earlier seemed to be rapidly dissolving, replaced by a tenderness that made your heart ache.

"I’m okay," you replied, still tearful but sincere. "Please, don’t stop."

Wanda hesitated for a moment before resuming, her hand stroking your back again. "Alright. But I want you to know that, even when I’m upset, my priority is you. I adore you, my girl, and I will never push past your limits."

“N-nine,” you sobbed, feeling the sting radiate through you.

“Ten!” you exclaimed, relieved that it was over. As Wanda pulled you into her arms, you let everything go—all the anger and guilt you had bottled up.

"Shh, my girl," Wanda murmured, running her fingers through your hair. "It’s okay now. I’m here, and I’ll never let anything hurt you. Not even me."

You nodded, still crying softly as the warmth of her presence enveloped you completely. In Wanda’s arms, you knew you were safe.

Wanda felt herself lost in the abyss that was you. It wasn’t love, at least not the romantic, delicate kind people liked to describe. It was something far more visceral, something that clenched her chest like a closed fist and kept her awake at night, suffocated by a need she didn’t know how to satisfy.

You were a throbbing, vivid, uncontrollable obsession. Every smile, every distracted glance was like a spark igniting something primal within her. Wanda found herself lost in mundane moments—washing dishes, folding clothes—and suddenly, she was thinking of you. The sound of your laughter, the way you furrowed your brow when focused, the warmth of your skin beneath her fingers.

She knew this was dangerous. She knew there was a fine line between wanting someone and needing someone. But with you, that line had long been obliterated. It was no longer a matter of choice. You had become a part of her, an extension of her will, and it terrified her.

What scared her most, however, was the power you wielded without even trying. All it took was your absence for the emptiness to settle in her chest like a slow, corrosive sickness. A mere delay was enough for her mind to conjure terrible scenarios, a storm of insecurities and paranoias she couldn’t contain.

And then there was the touch. My God, the touch. When your fingers met hers, it was as though the world around her ceased to exist. There was something possessive about the way Wanda held your hand, as if she feared you might vanish if her grip wasn’t firm enough. And maybe you would vanish, because you weren’t hers—not really—and that was a constant torment.

There were nights when she lay beside Vision, the husband who was supposed to be her anchor, staring at the ceiling with someone else’s name caught on her lips. In those moments, she felt the depth of her dependency. You were like a drug she’d tasted once and could no longer abandon, no matter how hard she tried.

You were her ruin, but also the only thing that made life pulse through her veins again.

And perhaps that was what Wanda feared most: that without you, she wouldn’t be able to feel anything at all.

~*~

UNREVISED CHAPTER

Tag List <3

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[ageofevermore]

SO SCARLET IT WAS

REQUEST — can you do a blurb of Wanda and reader? where reader has been sending wanda love letters anonymously. in the end it's revealed it was reader and wanda asks why they would do that when they are already married

WARNINGS — mentions of canon age of ultron events, mentions of canon civil war events, mentions of natasha’s death in endgame although very brief for my own sanity more then yours, parent clint and nat although it’s more nat focused, fluff to the max

AUTHORS NOTE — i don’t wanna talk about how this was supposed to be a blurb. also, for the sake of this timeline, wandavision is genuine not a scripted reality. wanda and reader did everything the right way and found a life together in westview

AGE OF ULTRON

You shouldn't have fallen in love so easily, especially not with her, you were a trained Avenger for thors sake, love was supposed to be at the bottom of your priorities barrel. That was easier said than done, because from the very first time that your eyes met across the battlefield, everything inside of you froze, skipped, and stuttered all at once. You should’ve been alert enough to detonate the blast before it could wound Clint, usually you were steps ahead of it, but her eyes were absorbing all the explosions around you and the soft watercolor green was alight with fireworks so beautiful you couldn’t look away. After that, you stood no chance of ever clearing her from your head. Even if she was supposed to be the enemy, even if you’d never experienced love before. Nat and Clint gave you the benefit of the doubt at first. You never missed your mark on a mission, but the cold temperatures and the fact that Helen said your heart rate was alarmingly high for your average bpm had given them the slightest indication that something was bothering you. That maybe, you hadn’t been so recovered from your history with Hydra as they thought. So, they sent you back to therapy.

Truthfully, therapy distracted you from her for a while, revisiting your past could distract you from anything for a short amount of time, but then you started having dreams. Not the nightmares that tickled your belly and drenched you in sweat and had you knocking on Natashas bedroom door at three in the morning looking for evidence that you really had been saved, but dreams of what ifs that all included her. Dreams where Natasha and Clint weren't the ones who found you barely clinging to life in an abandoned facility in Russia, dreams where it was her. That should’ve been the second indicator that you were never going to escape the curse she laid upon your heart without a single word. But you still tried to convince yourself that you could get over this, that you could see straight with clear judgment.

When she got inside of Natasha’s head the second time you crossed paths, you should’ve been enraged. You should’ve been cured of any delusion you harbored in your heart, but the attack only made you hurt for her. If things had played out differently, if Natasha and Clint had found her like they’d found you, maybe she wouldn’t be the enemy. If Natasha and Clint hadn’t found you, maybe you’d have ended up in her shoes, afraid to go against the only orders you knew. In moments like these, where Natasha’s half unconscious lost in her mind, and Clint is rolling in panic, and Tony is enraged and defeated, you seem to be the only one aware enough to recognize that maybe this is all she knows. That maybe, she’s just trying to not to get hurt again.

Natasha sees your feelings for what they are a few hours after landing at the farm. You had been sorting through your small selection of clothes that Laura organized in the back of the guest room closet while Natasha took a shower. You wanted to find something loose that didn’t irritate the healing wounds on your side from the first mission, but you were so far in your head you’d looked at the same shirt four times without realizing. Natasha had watched the entire event unfold, and like she never could when it came to you, fought feelings of rage and pride. You are the closest thing she’s ever going to have to a daughter, and watching you fall in love with someone so dangerous, she doesn’t know what the appropriate reaction is.

“You like her.” The assassin's tone was even, not giving away if she felt one way or another about the predicament you’ve landed in, but keeping her posture open so you wouldn’t shut down like you had a habit of doing. She and Clint knew you like the back of their hand, how had it taken them this long to realize you weren’t just reeling at the confrontation of your past, but falling in love with the enemy. You hadn’t even noticed she was still in the room with you, and that the shower water hadn’t been running at all. Every muscle in your body tensed, you were caught, and this could only go so many ways.

“I'm sorry.” With wide eyes, you faced your mentor who had become like a mother to you in the last decade. You weren’t a kid with heavy PTSD anymore, you had overcome most of it, not without extensive work and self-reflection, but for the most part, you were just an ordinary teenage girl who saved the world on occasion. That’s what Clint and Natasha saw when they looked at you. That wasn’t the girl Natasha was looking at now. She was staring eye to eye with a child tortured by Hydra. A child without family and without confidence in herself. A child who thought she was about to be hurt.

In that moment, Natasha abandoned the rage she was clinging onto in her belly. At that moment, Natasha decided to lean into her pride, to just be your mother instead of your mentor. You had found somebody you cared about, and as your mother, she would be elated to help you recognize that feeling without holding onto the shame you were undoubtedly forcing yourself to remember. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Malyshka.”

“She’s the enemy! She hurt you, she-she could’ve killed Clint!” You spluttered, trying to reason with yourself that this wasn’t a good thing. That you were insane for trying to redeem a girl who had almost torn apart the only family you have.

Natasha forced herself to see the situation from your shoes, something she admittedly should’ve done from the get. She forced herself to remember that you had been with Hydra for six years of your life, that had she and Clint not found you, you might’ve ended up on the same field with Wanda playing against them. She never wanted to think about that possibility, never wanted to think about how little her life would mean without you, but in another universe, she’s sure that's how it played out. “She’s just a kid who doesn’t want to get hurt. But you didn’t fall in love with the enhanced, did you?” Natasha asked, and your cheeks flushed so violently scarlet they were almost maroon, almost the same deep shade as the magic tendrils that danced between your crushes fingers. “When the blast hit Clint, you were frozen. I thought you were stuck in a flashback, that the cold had brought you back to that abandoned base, that wasn’t it, was it? You were looking at her. You were seeing her as a person, not a weapon. Something we all should’ve done a lot sooner.”

“She has the greenest eyes, Nat. But-but after the blast hit Clint, she-she was so scared. She’s just trying not to get hurt. Something happened to her, I think she’s still scared because of it.” You admitted, tears welling in your eyes at the possibility of her getting hurt at your hands, because at the end of the day, you would never sacrifice Clint and Nat for her. At the end of the day, your side was with the people who raised you.

“Whatever you choose, Clint and I support you.” Natasha hated that her voice shook with tears, she hated that you were growing up, she hated that you were being shoved into a corner where you had to pick between finding out who you were as a person, or being an Avenger.

At the mention of your mentor who was like a father, your chest grew tighter. She almost killed him. She almost took him away from you, from his kids, from his wife. How would he ever forgive you for choosing her? “She almost killed him, Nat.”

“You will never, never lose us. Get that thought out of your head, right now.”

You sniffled, shuffling your feet against the carpeted floors to feel something other than stabs of aching pain in your chest. How did you end up here? “I don’t blame Clint if he doesn’t forgive her. If it comes down to his life or hers. I don’t blame him if he chooses to live.”

“Malyshka, I could’ve shot him the first day I met him. There is not an ounce of self-preservation in his bones. He sees the good in people too easily to just give up on them. Just like you. If it comes down to him or her, he’s choosing the both of them. You know that as well as I do.”

“Nat?” You asked softly after silence had fallen over the two of you for a beat, her words circling your head and your heart on a loop. When your mentor hummed, you spoke again, this time admitting what you’d been trying to deny. “I think I love her.”

CIVIL WAR

You didn’t want to believe what you were hearing. You didn’t want to believe that half of your team and mentors had signed the accords, that they had agreed with Secretary Ross to an extent and therefore fed into the bullshit propaganda that the enhanced were dangerous. You were almost enhanced. If Hydra had succeeded, you would’ve been all the same as Wanda and the new vigilante Spiderman. Had they forgotten that? Did they really only see Wanda for her powers? Not for the teenage girl that had lost her parents and her brother and been manipulated and abused and used as a test-subject? Had they just let that slip their mind so easily?

You hadn’t left Wanda’s side since Natasha broke the news to you. Almost a year had grown between now and the events of Ultron, and the former was trying her best to fit in, to make up for all the red in her ledger at the hands of Hydra. She was making leaps of improvement, but that still wasn’t enough. She was still just another enemy in the eyes of Secretary Ross, and he had asked you to do the impossible. Choose a side. Why was everyone making you choose a side?

Wanda tried not to let you see how much this was upsetting her, but from the moment you saw her across the battlefield you’d been able to read her like she was your favorite book. When she held you at night, you could feel how tense she was. When she walked around the compound, you could see how uncomfortable she felt and how she wanted to just melt away and not exist. It broke your heart, but once again, you’d been put in a situation where you couldn’t do anything to help. A situation where the majority saw you as just a kid unfortunate enough to have no real family.

“Let's run away.” You suggest one night when you’re wrapped up in nothing but a thin blanket and Wanda’s arms, far far away from reality and for this one single moment in time, it’s just the two of you. Just Wanda and Y/N. There aren’t any superpowers, or any Avengers level threats, or United States government officials trying to control them like objects the same way Hydra had. It’s just them. Just two teenagers broken by life and in love.

“To where.” Wanda hummed, her lips flush against your neck as she fought sleep to instead spend this moment with you. The vibration of her voice tickled your belly in the sweetest way you had ever experienced, and a flush spread across your cheeks so scarlet in color it was almost maroon.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Ohio. I hear it’s the best place to create your own reality.” You admit shyly, picking up the cold hand that's draped across your midsection, and beginning to play with her fingers and pull at her knuckles to hear them crack the way she loves, especially after training sessions with Natasha where their main focus had been working on controlling her magic. Secretly, you love the way her muscles contract after her knuckles pop and how she involuntarily squeezes your hand in hers. Secretly, its not a secret at all.

Wanda lets you play your game, knowing your intention but having never shared her knowledge with you. She finds it cute how eager you are to feel her, even in ways as innocent as this moment. And secretly, although it's no secret to you, she loves feeling you all the same. She loves coming up behind you and hugging you tightly, she loves when you just lay against her and shudder every time her breath tickles your neck, she loves when it's just the two of you in a moment as nothing more than girlfriends. “What would we be in this reality?”

“Fiances.”

Wanda snorts, laughing so hard the muscles in her belly tighten and her face goes scarlet. “We’re a little young for that, detka.”

“Childhood lovers. We would’ve been best friends since Kindergarten. You would’ve asked me to be your girlfriend in the fifth grade, after I failed a spelling test and wouldn’t stop crying. I would have said yes without a pause. We would’ve never broken up, and our parents would have loved it. Pietro would’ve teased us, but he would be happy for you. And when we graduated high school, you would’ve gotten down on one knee right then and there. We wouldn’t waste a single moment. And Nat and Clint would be elated. Your parents would call me their daughter. It would be perfect, our life in Ohio. Nobody would bat an eye at how young we are, because love doesn’t know numbers, it just knows feelings.”

Wanda sniffled, wondering how she could get so lucky to have you. “Would we have kids?”

“Two. Twins. I would think they were girls the entire time, and I would ask that we name them Natalia and Lauren, but you would know that they were boys. You never told me that, but when they were born you’d tell me you dreamt it. Two boys, William and Thomas. We’d call them Billy and Tommy. They’d be just like you. Stubborn and silly, but the sweetest angels. Our life would be complete.”

“And we’d raise them in Ohio?”

You shook your head, twisting in Wanda’s arms so you could see her watercolor eyes. Even without explosives lighting up the room, there are fireworks in them. “I would find us the perfect plot in New Jersey. We would build a home for them, where they could just be kids, and we could be the cool moms who host sleepovers and invite the entire town to birthday parties. Nat and Clint would visit on holidays, and they’d be sad that we moved away, but they’d be so happy for us. We would be so happy.”

ENDGAME

How could this be happening? How could you spend five years without the woman you love, and the second you have hope of getting her back, lose the woman who was the closest thing you had to a mother? How could you gain the weight of hope, and lose it in seconds. Five years without Wanda was agonizing, but you never feared for a second that you wouldn’t get her back. You had lost too much to give up, and when Tony had come to the compound, saying he found a way to get everyone back, how did you not know that you would lose everything all over again? How had you let his words sound like a fairytale? Why was the world always sacrificing the things that completed you? Why did you think for a second you could ever be completely happy?

WANDAVISION (wandayn sounded wrong)

“This is the sixth letter I’ve found since Monday!” Wanda was exasperated, coming into the kitchen with her arms full of babies and letters. Her messy red hair was tied back, away from her face, no doubt due to the fact that Billy and Tommy had just entered a phase where they loved to grab and yank at your hair if you left it down and in reach.

“Oh? What’s this one say?” You quizzed, brushing flour off of your hands and grabbing the dishrag. The kitchen was a disaster as you attempted to bake a cake for the twins first birthday, but you couldn’t care less about the mess as you took in the sight of your wife. She looked absolutely ethereal, with hair so red it was almost maroon and love in her eyes so exuberant it was like a never ending firework show.

“Something about how I complete them!” She was completely at her end with these letters, and the anonymous slash at the bottom that gave away nothing about who it could be from. The both of you had come a long way since mourning Natasha and finding a life for yourself in New Jersey, and the last thing Wanda wanted was somebody tearing apart everything that was finally good. That was finally easy. You both deserved this more than anybody else.

Your eyes sparkled mischievously, a glint of something chaotic catching Wanda’s attention. “They’re from you, aren’t they!” She gasped, handing you Tommy when he started to fuss, and adjusting Billy now that her other arm was free. You giggled, looking for an escape route but your moment was short lived as Wanda came closer and her hips pinned you to the island. “Why!”

“I’m in love with you. I thought you should know.” You answered simply, although it was so much more than that. Losing Natasha hadn’t been easy for either of you, leaving the Avengers was almost harder, because it was the last piece of Nat you had left, but you knew that she would’ve wanted this for you. She would’ve wanted you to be happy, to have a family, to find everything she wasn’t able to find because of her past. The life you lived now, as much as it was for yourself and for Wanda, it was for her and all that she had given to you.

“We’re married!” Wanda beamed, “I already knew you loved me!”

You giggled, leaning up to kiss her sweet scarlet lips, but a baby hand kept you from kissing her. “Do you want a kiss, Tommy? Do you want some love?” You giggled, showing his tiny palm in kisses before moving on to do the same thing to Billy, wondering how you had come so far from battlefields in only a decade.

[rebeltombraider]

We're All a Little Mad Here (One-Shot)

Rating: M for the Warnings in the next line. (M is a very slight thing in this imo, but figured it suited best just in case)

Warnings: Some Language, Some Dark Humor (in the form of a threat that amuses Agatha), and Plot threads from Agatha All Along (SPOILERS)

Description: Agatha shouldn't have been surprised that the only other surviving Maximoff sibling was just as unhinged as Wanda had been. But this? This turned out to be the other side of the Maximoff coin that Agatha had been looking for in Westview. Now to find a way to get her to join her Coven without promising things she can't give. Should be easy enough, right?

Based off of a larger fic I'm working on! Possibly an AU of it <3 Features a Named Reader (mostly because using Y/N throws me off and I gotta get used to it still, so going with a Comic name this time!)

Second one-shot on Tumblr and third one-shot ever, so I apologize if it's rough D:

"No."

"No?! But you haven't even heard our pitch! Hell, we haven't even said anything to you yet!"

Agatha watched Teen look between herself and the woman gathering supplies to purchase for some trip, she could only assume.

Sokovian accent out in full, the witch drawled her reply, "I did not stutter." Teen's distraught huff had her rolling her eyes, "Listen, my brother was the one who always wanted to help people and my sister was the one who just wanted to live in peace. Look where we are now. One of us is dead, one is missing and presumed dead, and one remaining only cares for those of hers that are gone." She looked up from the small pile of items in front of her to her left where Agatha and Teen still stood, "Guess which one I am. Walk whatever your damn road is yourself that your mind is all but screaming about. I have a sister to find."

Realizing the Maximoff was walking away, Agatha groaned in realization.

'Fuck... alright, here we go. Buckle up, Harkness, you've got an untrained terror to recruit from that list.'

"You'll never find Wanda."

Teen took a few steps back and stood behind Agatha at the threatening aura the woman gave off at those words.

"What did you just say to me?"

"She's dead. But you know that, don't you? You felt that thread snap just like it did when Pietro died. Based on the look in your eyes that you've probably had long before we approached you, all three of you had some sort of accidental connection when Wanda and your magic began to show while with HYDRA. A shredded connection that has all but shattered whatever sanity you had in the first place. Not that Wanda had any, either."

Dark blue magic began to rattle shelves and foundation, a sure sign of slipping control.

"Uh... how 'bout we not piss off the witch who can probably kill us very slowly and very painfully?"

"Hush, Teen, little Maxi won't do anything to us. After all, how will she get to where Wanda really is without us? I'm one of the only people to ever walk the Witch's Road and return."

Agatha smiled when the shaking around them ceased immediately, 'Got you, sweet cheeks. Knew little ol' Wanda had to have been dropping you hints in your dreams to where she's stuck at. That thread isn't gone yet, is it? Just strained by the distance.'

"Speak."

"Not here. Meet us at my place in a few hours. I'm sure you know enough from Wanda's own memories of Westview where you can find me. Come on, Teen." Stopping just as she turned to leave the isle, Agatha looked back at the still unmoving Maximoff, "What's your name, by the way? Wanda talked about a sister but never said any specifics beyond named after some grandmother? She was ridiculously protective of anything about you."

"Natalya. Call me Nat and I will feed you your own innards."

"Then we'll see you soon, Natalya Maximoff."

"See you soon, Agatha Harkness."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"How did you know she'd listen to you like that? I thought for sure she was gonna turn us into paste or something!" Teen laughed breathlessly as he drove back towards Agatha's house.

"I didn't. At least at first."

"Wait, what? That was just a shot in the dark?"

Agatha rolled her eyes at his surprise, "I'm honestly surprised she let me get more than a few words in without being tossed about the shelves like a wrecking ball, but..." Seeing Teen turn down the road that lead to her house, she decided to show him a little bit of what she noticed, "Natalya was desperate. She might seem like a murderous ball of rage right now, be it her normal state or not, but she reeked of it. It looks like little Maxi's been trying to find a way to Wanda ever since she... ended up there."

"... and you might be her only chance to get to Wanda."

"Right in one."

Putting the car in park, Teen turned his full attention to Agatha, "How do you know she'll follow through with the risky chance of her not finding Wanda on the Road?"

"Because I know Wanda's there and if anyone will be a strong enough tie to bring her back here easily, it'll be her remaining triplet. Those siblings really did end up in some deep magic. It's one of the things that drew my attention to Wanda and her Hex in the first place."

Both unbuckled and climbed out of Teen's car, "This all seems so insane. Cool, but insane."

Strolling up to her destroyed front door, Agatha called over her shoulder to Teen's scrambling form catching up with her, "We're all a little mad here."

'Now to get this bus of crazy cats loaded up and moving before the Seven get here.'

[cissa-calls]

Countdown to Agatha: Darkhold Diaries: Day 630

Agatha: “Just do it!”

Y/N: “I’m NERVOUS”

Agatha: “It’s fine! Just. Do. IT.”

Wanda: “What’s happening?? It’s midnight.”

Wanda, seeing the damage: “You hypocrite”

Agatha: “I promise it’s not what it looks like!”

Wanda, looking at the hair trimmings on the floor and up to Agatha’s new, slightly uneven bangs: “I think it’s exactly what it looks like. And after you MOCKED me for almost cutting my own bangs when my sanity was crumbling in Westview?!…I don’t even know what to say”

Agatha: “I’m sorry!”

Wanda: “Don’t try and beg for forgiveness when your actions have already done all the talking necessary”

Y/N: “It’s HAIR! It’s gonna grow back.” *packing up their shit* “I swear - are we back in a sitcom in Westview?!” *slams the door* “Salem in HELLLLLL”

[tvseries-writings]

Road Trip VIII

Road trip masterlist

Wandanat x Bioquake x reader (Bobbi x reader platonic!)

TW: blood

Summary of previous chapters: When Nat, Wanda, Daisy, Jemma and reader have an accident, reader is injured so badly that Jemma and Wanda must combine science and magic to save her with only one side effect...special healing powers that allow to project the injuries onto someone else but at a high price. What happens when the girls find out what this “high price” consist in?

Silence invades the room since you told them the truth about the tests. You had hoped that lie would last at least a couple of weeks, but instead it hadn't even lasted a day. Jemma looks at the papers in her hands, barely holding back tears and quickly shaking her head.

They say there are five stages of grief. And even if that is not their mourning, not yet at least, each of them, knowing the truth, is going through at least one of those stages.

Jemma is facing denial, rereading again and again those words that are incomprehensible to you but which Fitz has diligently summarized for you, as if by doing so he can find a permanent solution to your situation that you can accept.


"No, no, there must be something we can do...if you don't use your powers then, maybe-"

Daisy paces back and forth across the room, making her shake just barely, almost imperceptibly to anyone who doesn't know her. Daisy is incredulous, bewildered by a revelation of such magnitude.

"This is not your choice, all right? I wanted to tell you because I was forced to," you cast a glare at Daisy before continuing to speak, "and you have no say in the matter, get over it."

You know you've been hard on them, you know it and you see it in their looks but it's for their own good and for your own sanity. No one banned them from using their powers, even when they were hurting them so they have no right to ban you...not if you can save lives. You could even heal cancer with your powers, how can they not understand that.


"You may be right, sometimes our powers hurt us but we don't sign a death warrant every time we use them detka." Wanda takes a few steps toward you but you back away, shaking your head.
"I could save who knows how many lives, I...you are special, you always have been, by your powers or your qualities and now I too will finally feel useful in something" "Even if it means your death y/n? Because that's what we're talking about, you can't deny it and each of us is all too aware of it; do you realize that if you keep using these strange and dangerous new powers, you'll only destroy yourself until there's nothing left of you?"

Natasha struggles to keep the fear from seeping into her voice but you know her, you know she is only scared and afraid of how far your recklessness may take you this time.

You look away, unable to sustain the former widow's sharp but concerned gaze.


"I'm aware of that Nat, I know I'm signing my own death warrant but if it will help even one person then I'll be more than happy to take the risk."

"This is bullshit! Are we really going to allow her to do something like this? This is stupid and dangerous. You're committing suicide y/n and I can't stand by and watch you do it, at the cost of stopping you by force."

Daisy raises her arm toward you, she doesn't know why either but hopes to stop this madness even though both you and she know she would never hurt you. In fact, after a few seconds in which you all remain silent, the inhuman lowers her arm with a defeated air.


"Please love, please...we would not survive without you."

Daisy lets tears line her cheeks as she collapses to her knees, repeatedly shaking her head, "you can't choose to leave us if you have the option to not to, please..."

Your heart breaks and your body moves before you can stop it. You kneel next to her and hug her, kissing her cheek and whispering that it will be okay even though you know it is a promise you cannot keep. Wanda approaches you and joins the embrace, Jemma follows her while Nat remains motionless, just a few steps away from you. She would like to join but the pain she is feeling right now prevents her from doing so.


"Nat" Wanda whispers, turning toward her lifelong companion, inciting the redhead to join but the latter shakes her head.
"Please" you look up, mimicking the word with your lips, and she resists for a few seconds before complying with your request. This warm squeeze is supposed to be for Daisy but actually, if you have to be honest, you think it serves all of you.

You don't know how long you stay like this but when you speak again, your mouth is dry and your voice trembles.
"I'll...I'll be careful, I'll only use them when I think it's necessary okay?"

The girls nod, not what they wanted to hear but they know they won't get anything else from you.
"All right but first I want to do some tests and many, many blood tests so I suggest you prepare yourself psychologically."

You huff dramatically and hide in Wanda's arms.

"Wands save me" you whimper and Nat pats you on the butt shaking his head.
"I don't think you're going to get off that easy" "No no, Jemma is right and in fact, we'll help her hold you down for as long as detka" Wanda leaves a kiss on your temple and smiles when you let out another whimper.
"If you're going to have your way at least you have to suffer a little" Daisy sticks her tongue out at you and you kick her on the shin which makes her pout and massage the injured area.

"I hate you" "No you don't" "No you don't...I hate you very much."

"Y/N!"

.................................................................................

During the next three weeks Jemma doesn't give you a break and Bobbi certainly doesn't help. You have pitted arms and think you're missing a lot of blood after all the blood draws the biochemist forced on you. Just like she's doing today.


"Stop it Bobbi, that's the third one today..please."

You sigh, shaking your head and withdrawing your arm from the blonde's hands and almost injuring yourself with the needle.
"Y/n! Be careful or you'll hurt yourself."

Bobbi removes her gloves and places them, along with the syringe, on the small table to your right.

"I know you hate all these rockstar withdrawals and I know how terrible you are as a patient but-"

Your phone rings and as soon as it does, you immediately recognize the ringtone.
"Director Fury, tell me."

Bobbi watches you throughout the entire call, trying to figure out what your boss is telling you but can't. She has never been good at reading other people's emotions, let alone their looks.

"All right director, no problem. We'll leave right away."

You end the call, putting the phone back in your pocket and getting up from the infirmary bed. A dizziness forces you to sit back down and Bobbi snaps toward you, grabbing your arm to keep you from falling to the floor.

"Hey hey, easy. I just took a liter of blood from you, I don't think it's a great idea to get up so fast without even drinking your juice."

Bobbi hands you the juice and watches you carefully as you drink it all so as not to infuriate her.

"Can I get up now boss?"

A smile of defiance paints your face and the spy rolls his eyes, nodding his head to give you permission.


"What did Fury tell you?"

Bobbi tosses the used syringe and gloves into the trash can, but continues to watch you out of the corner of her eye to make sure that once you're on your feet you don't get hit with dizziness again. 
"We have a mission and we need to leave right away, it's a 084."

"Origin unknown..." Bobbi whispers and you nod. You both know that code all too well, as does Daisy.
"We need to warn the others and move now."

You head for the infirmary exit but Bobbi blocks you.
"You can't go on the mission, Fitz hasn't finished designing the electricity absorber for your neural connections yet and if anything goes wrong Jemma would kill me, non-" "Bobs, I know. It's going to be okay okay? I promise. Now get ready, I'm going to call the others."

When you finally find them, they are all four ( or almost) engaged in a violent, but also deeply exciting, sparring session.

Natasha is on top of Daisy, pushing her against the mat beneath them while Wanda and Jemma watch them on the sidelines with mischievous smiles on their faces.
"Do you give up Agent Johnson?" "Forget it Romanoff."

It takes Daisy a couple of tries before she gets the better of Nat and knocks the redhead to the ground, holding her hands above her head and legs apart.

That sight makes you hot, but as soon as you remember the real reason you came after them, to your regret, you interrupt the little scene before you.

"As much as I hate to interrupt you...Fury called me, we need to leave immediately for a mission. It's about an 084."

Daisy untangles herself from Nat's grip and looks at you with a look you've never seen on her before.
"When do we leave?"

………………..………………………..…………………………….

In less than four hours, 084 turns out to be much more "known" than expected, and you, Daisy, Bobbi find yourselves tied, in a cold, dreary gray cell, to each other, because of a white, misogynistic, and, above all, psychopathic Nazi asshole.


"I remembered you dead."

You spit on the floor; the mix of saliva and blood settles inches from his designer leather shoes.

You cast a glance at Daisy and Bobbi. The former is still unconscious but the rise and fall of her chest indicate that she is still alive while the blonde is awake and struggling against the handcuffs as she watches that being torture you helplessly.


"Oh my dear, you know how we Hydra people are...when you cut off one head two more pop up."

Whitehall smiles; a crooked, sick smile so sadistic it makes you cringe, even if you don't show it.
"Although it's been years, I see you still use the same jokes. Old age is looming eh? Indeed, since you ran out of your beauty serum, quite a few wrinkles have appeared."

Another fist crashes against your jaw and is so hard that your head snaps to the side and more blood joins the blood from before on the floor. Whitehall wipes his hand on a handkerchief taken from the pocket of the ivory jacket he is wearing.

He shakes his head, smiles at you and grabs your face with his right hand, cupping your chin between his index finger and thumb so hard you think he might shatter it. Despite his age, the asshole still has a lot of strength.

As long as he takes it out on you and leaves Daisy and Bobbi alone, though, he's more than okay. At least until Nat, Wanda and Jemma come to your rescue. Knowing them, they will already be hot on your trail.


"Now tell me agent y/n, where is the journal that S.H.I.E.L.D. seized from me?"

Whitehall grazes your cheek with the scalpel, causing a small cut that makes Bobbi wiggle even more from her restraints; you know that look, she's telling you not to pull too hard.

"For the umpteenth time, you Nazi prick, I don't even know what you're talking about!"

Blood drips from your nose, probably broken considering the throbbing pain. Obviously you know what he's talking about, it's no secret that S.H.I.E.L.D. came into possession of the red journal inside of which were engraved the super-soldier activation words but I doubt that a Hydra bigwig would need it so badly that he would kidnap three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

Daisy lets out a groan as she slowly opens her eyes and you freeze, aware that Whitehall will now focus all energy on her.

And to think he only managed to capture you with a sedative in the form of gas...uh, Nazis, those assholes never change.

"You Americans are so stupid...the red diary, from Hydra. Seems obvious to me."

Whitehall cracks a smile before carving you one more time with the scalpel only this time, the cut is deeper and all too close to your carotid vein and Daisy, who has just woken up and recovered from the sedative, as soon as she sees how you are reduced struggles against the handcuffs and yells at Whitehall to stop.

"The destroyer of worlds...glad you could join us in this pleasant reunion."

He turns away from you, focusing on Daisy. The Inhuman tries to activate her powers but can't, the collar on her neck prevents her from doing so, and the Hydra scientist smiles as he sees her tenacity.


"Daisy Johnson, Quake, the Destroyer of Worlds, many names but without powers you are nothing."

Whitehall approaches one of your soulmates, and when he injects something into her neck, you can't see anymore and the handcuffs become completely useless against the rage you're feeling and the fear that whatever that was inside that damn syringe might cause Daisy harm.

It all happens quickly; Whitehall reaches down and grabs you by the chin again and then uses that same hand to dab the blood that suddenly comes out of the wound in his neck-the exact same wound he gave you that is now gone from your skin and transferred to his. The blood from your nose comes out even faster and more copiously so that your head starts to spin but you can still make out a smile on that psychopath's face.

"Ha Ha, I knew the rumors were true, and a little water injected into one of your lovers gave me the confirmation I was looking for. What amazing powers, the gift of healing and destruction as sides of the same coin."

Whitehall shakes his head while continuing to smile as he takes his handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabs the blood coming from your nose; not that it has much effect since the bleeding is due to your powers.
"I look forward to experimenting on you, my dear. It will be painful but you know, breakthroughs require experimentation."

He turns to the two energetic men on either side of the door, the only way out of that room, and motions for them to take you away.


"Pick her up and take her to the room. I'll prepare for operations; we must start now. Science does not wait!"

Bobbi watches intently, and as soon as Whitehall and one of his two henchmen emerge from the gray and far too brightly lit cell in which they are keeping you locked up, the handcuffs that held her bound fall to the floor. The sound the handcuffs make as they hit the floor makes Igor the enforcer turn toward the blond spy. Bobbi picks up the chair to which she was tied and smashes it over the giant's head, and within seconds the latter falls unconscious to the floor before he even realizes what is happening.

You observe your surroundings without really doing so. Your head is spinning and the nosebleed still doesn't seem to have stopped; in fact, you don't know if it has; you are so dazed that you don't realize it. Passively, you watch Bobbi untie Daisy and then pick up the gun that the giant idiot dropped after being stunned. And then, as Daisy approaches you and Bobbi unties you, you feel yourself return to the reality around you. At least in part.

"Hey, look at me, are you okay?"

Daisy takes your face in her hands, tearing off a piece of her shirt and dabbing at your nose to the best of her ability.

Bobbi keeps her gun pointed at the door as her spy skills take over, though that doesn't keep her from checking you out with her eyes every few seconds. After all, she is one of your closest friends and she cares a lot about you.
"You're an idiot, you shouldn't have used your powers for me."
"You would have done the same for me Dee," you whisper, concentrating on focusing on her face and straining to pronounce the words correctly. Daisy does not respond and merely looks at you, continuing to hold the now blood-soaked piece of her T-shirt under your nose.

"Shit Bobbi, it won't stop bleeding. What should I do?"

Bobbi continues to watch the door as she kneels down to slip something metallic from her right boot before tossing it to Daisy.
"This is the neural connection stabilizer that Fitz designed, it's only a prototype but it should help. Besides, it's not like we have much choice right now sestra."

Bobbi shoots you a look, startled by how out of it you seem and lacking connection to reality. Daisy applies two electrodes to the sides of your temples, attaching them to the thick and particularly heavy iron headband at the back of your neck, and then, as soon as she presses the power button Bobbi points to her, the pain suddenly fades and your head stops spinning considerably, the same way the blood stops going down.


"How I love Fitz," you smile, shaking your head just barely to try to ward off even the dazzling nausea that unfortunately has not yet gone away.
"Yeah well, don't push it, we don't know how much it holds and I'm not about to find out y/n" Daisy gives you a warning look before helping you to your feet. You sway dangerously to the side as the world tilts but Daisy keeps you firmly anchored to herself, giving you a concerned look. It takes a few seconds before you stabilize.


"I just feel a little dizzy, that's all. I'm okay Dee."
"Yeah, sure, you're okay...if you're okay, I'm the director of S.H.I.E.L.D."

You roll your eyes and snort, giving Daisy a gentle nudge and realizing only then that the Inhuman is still wearing the collar that blocks her powers.

"Bobbi, can we get it off without hurting her?"

You turn to the blonde, and when the latter shakes her head, you tighten your lips, thinking how much you'd like to put a good bullet through Whitehall's skull.

Noises outside the door alarm you and you waste no time in grabbing a broken chair leg to use as a weapon.
"Oh, that's scary."
"Better this than air."

You stick your tongue out at Daisy, and for a few seconds you think you are safe, perhaps on the couch, sitting between the women you love most in the world as you watch a few movies on one of your movie nights.

Then, three gunshots cause you to take a defensive stance, putting yourself in front of Daisy to protect her just as the door to the closed cell you are in is smashed open and falls to the floor with a thud.

Bobbi doesn't lose sight of the entrance, but when she recognizes the silhouette of the person standing in the knocked-down doorway, a smile breaks out on her face and her shoulders relax as she lowers her gun.
"Did I step on your moment?"

Natasha smiles and runs toward you and Daisy, squeezing you in a hug before exchanging a pat on the back with Bobbi.

"Good entrance Romanoff, I see you still like to show off."
"Oh Morse, you know me well. My ego comes first."

Natasha presses the earpiece she has in your ear, looking at both you and Daisy relieved to see that you are both okay albeit with a few bruises and some blood.
"Jem, Wands...yes, I found them, they are fine. Whitehall escaped but we will find him."

...............................................................…………..

The journey to the Zephyr is silent, methodical and full of bullets lodged in the heads of Hydra soldiers. When you arrive on board, you are greeted by a warm, smothering embrace from Jemma and Wanda, and even Bobbi cannot escape it. And then, as was bound to happen, Jemma drags all three of you to the infirmary.

"Come on Jem, I'm fine. Really." you grumble as the biochemist wipes the crusted blood off your face, ignoring your protests.
"You're not fine, you used your powers and you shouldn't have. It was stupid and reckless, so let me do my job."
"That lunatic injected who knows what into Daisy, I couldn't stand by and do nothing Jemma! You would have done the same. All of you would have, don't lie."

Jemma shakes her head, casting a glance at Daisy before moving to the front of her crib.

"Oh, don't start with me. Think y/n."

Daisy gives you a dirty look, one of those that a brother gives his sister after the latter has ratted you out, and you amiably show her your middle finger. You two really love each other only you have a strange way of showing it, that's all.

The biochemist tilts the Inhuman's head, looking closely at the tiny little hole the syringe has left in Daisy's skin.

As Jemma drains Daisy with at least two vials of blood, you approach Bobbi and brush her arm with your hand.

"Hey, are you okay?"

You whisper and Bobbi nods, sighing so softly you almost heard it.

"You went too far, it could have been bad," the blonde whispers and clenches her jaw. You look away, doing anything to avoid meeting her eyes," she could have killed you and I couldn't have done anything about it. Do you understand that y/n? You cannot jeopardize your life like this...your life is not worth less than my life or Diaisy's life."

You shake your head and flinch away from Bobbi, drawing the attention of the other two girls in the room.
"I had no choice, you know how fixated Whitehall is on Daisy and her mother!"

Bobbi remains silent, she probably would have done the same thing in your place but the fear she felt at almost losing her best friend a few hours earlier still grips her stomach.

"Y/n, Bobbi is right. My life isn't worth more than yours and I don't want you to do shit like that ever again."

Daisy gets off the crib and walks over to you, taking your hands between her own and drawing circles on your skin.


"Yeah, I'd say we have enough stubborn, reckless people in this relationship already."

Natasha says, entering the infirmary at that moment. Behind her, Wanda crosses your gaze, turning a small smile.
"Honestly-and happily-I still don't know how you are all unharmed considering you never think before you do anything."

Jemma shakes her head and emphasizes a sigh of exasperation to let you know how much you stress her out.

You smile and the tension that seemed to hover in the room before quickly dissipates. Jemma picks up the tablet next to the crib Daisy was on, looking at the results that the fast S.H.I.E.L.D. machines have sent her.

"Well, then Dee looks like Whitehall was telling the truth. I don't know if it was water but it didn't alter any of your values so at the moment I'm satisfied...Not that you're safe from any future tests in the days to come, let's be clear."

Daisy snorts and Wanda hugs her to comfort her, unsuccessfully holding back a smile. After Jemma finishes observing your test results, the biochemist clears Bobbi for any substantial damage, simply giving her a palliative for a nasty bruise on her shoulder, and then, after long and careful consideration, decides it is time to remove Fitz's device.

She has you lie on the crib, though your protests are anything but feeble, and then hooks you up to a million machines. Heart rate, blood pressure, breathing, CO2--everything.
"Bobbi come here, Wanda stand by in case your intervention is needed."

You feel like that crib is your bedside, with all the people you love around you and wires poking out of your body everywhere. Jemma lifts up your shirt, gluing the two electrodes one above your left breast and the other under your right armpit.
"Oh Jem, I don't think we should do this right now," you whisper, pretending to be scandalized as Jemma pats you on the shoulder. The whispered word "idiot" and the laughter that follows make your heart warm.

Daisy, Wanda, and Natasha remain silent as they watch Jemma slowly and carefully detach the electrodes on your temples, also slipping off the iron tube behind your neck.


"How do you feel?" Bobbi says, watching the monitors and checking your vitals, noting a gradual increase in your heart rate.
"Simmons, heart rate 95 and BP 130/85 and rising."

Jemma runs to one of the drawers; you can't quite make out her movements or the faces of your girls despite the fact that they are inches away from you. Your vision is blurry and you're pretty sure your nose has started bleeding again and profusely too, considering the concern-laden tones of voice of the girls around you.
"Shit y/n, stay awake," Bobbi says to you, slapping your face a couple of times when she sees you squint.

Natasha is dabbing your nose with all the paper she can find, and her face contorts more and more from worry with each blood-soaked handkerchief she throws on the floor. And then, in the general chaos, while Jemma is injecting you with drugs for hypertension and to try to lower your heart rate, Daisy does the only thing that makes sense to her: she takes the electricity absorber and puts it on you in the exact same way it was just moments before. And everything disappears, your vitals return to normal and stable, and the nosebleed stops.

In your regained lucidity, you rub your suit sleeve under your nose, trying to get the crusted blood away.

"Well, Fitz really did a good job."

A small smile curls your lips as Jemma leaves a kiss on your cheek, breathing a sigh of relief.
"You're going to kill me one of these days, really. And anyway, you're going to stay on this crib until I'm sure you're okay, and we've got to find a solution to this," the biochemist taps you a couple of times against Fitz's jaw-dropping invention.
"We'll probably force you to stay there for life, considering the heart attacks you're giving us" Wanda giggles, wiping away tears she hadn't been able to hold back.

"I agree" Natasha leans over, leaving a kiss on your lips and being immediately followed by Daisy.
"Not bad for an agent without a degree, is it?"
"You're an idiot."

"Daisy Johnson, you know you're not just a stupid piece of paper to us. You don't-" "Jeem, I was joking. Chill."

You shake your head as Jemma continues to rail at a poor, helpless inhuman who nevertheless deserves every single word the biochemist is saying. Ah, they are so cute when they bicker. You love them.

Thanks for reading! I know it's been a long time but hey, at least it's a very long chapter come on. Comment, share and tell me what you think. If you want to support me, this is my ko-fi link☕️ and as always: have a great day!

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[faithforgottens]

𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆.

from the writer’s desk: i’d tell you i started this a year ago after deciding i needed closure on post - crying on newport beach about how i’m incapable of being loved but that would mean me unloading all over the dash, and nobody needs that. i’m just a girl, out here projecting like tomorrow’s not coming, and thought i’d share. please know that i love carol, i just had to pick a character that i didn’t have strong emotional attachment to in order to play my villain. motivation to continue this would be much appreciated, thnx.  summary: you’ve been stuck in carol’s web for nearly four months now, and you need a distraction before you go postal and commit a capital crime or worse, tell her you love her. fortunately for you, natasha’s willing to offer her services. contains: college!natasha x female reader —— warnings include toxic relationship dynamics that involve infidelity, gaslighting and cheating, marijuana use, alcohol consumption, nsfw content [ fingering, dirty talk ]. →  inbox status: OPEN                                        don’t repost my works anywhere.

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     am i gonna see you tonight?

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     :(

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     hellllllooooooooooo??

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     I WANNA SEE U I MISS UR PRETTY FACE

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     pls come tonight. it would mean everything to me

You’ve never claimed to be smart.

In fact, you’re pretty sure you have to fall on the opposite end of that spectrum in order to bother showing your face tonight at the behest of Carol fuckin’ Danvers. Satan. It’s the work of the goddamn devil pulling you from the clutches of your apartment’s comfortable silence where you’d be much better off riding through the nuanced gut-punching waves of disappointing Carol guilt instead of the hell storm that is being played once again by Carol guilt. You even put on eyeliner for such an occasion, because if you’re going to get fucked over (either physically, emotionally, or both), you might as well look good doing it.

Her name’s still lighting up your phone as the Uber drops you off at the curb, boasting a flood of pictures on Snapchat that illuminate the awaiting scene inside of the frat house through blurry streaks of glass bottles and marijuana smoke and the pale expanse of her neck where a glint of her gold necklace flashes is promised to you to do as you wish, leaving behind bruises or lip prints. It’s an enticing picture painted for you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think maybe tonight will be the night she tells you she’s free from the clutches of Maria, her perfectly sane girlfriend that you’ve only ever known through Carol’s jilted lens, and that she’ll even let you climb her like a tree in front of her friends.

Lucky you.

Except you do know better. In the pit of your stomach, you know the reality is that you are in closer proximity than Maria, which therefore makes you the most convenient piece of ass at Carol’s disposal, that Carol believes — and is likely right about how — you’re still wound tight enough around her finger to make you drop to your knees like a good little girl, blinded by her golden halo of hair and the whiskey-soaked taste of her lips and ready to excuse her shit treatment of you. That even feeling like you have her for the beat of a butterfly’s wings is worth your sanity. And despite it all, it isn’t enough to keep you away. It’s not enough to exile the parts of a masochistic heart beating in your chest that somehow loves her, even if the only part of you she loves is your willingness to show up for her.

Carol’s fraternity is co-ed, which means that between all of the brothers, their social circle extends to the farthest corners of the university — they consume a fair bit of your own, considering you have at least two classes a semester with Bucky, sit with them at Wanda’s softball games (mostly so you can talk shit about your high school ex that made the team), and rent study rooms at least once a month with Thor, Bruce, and Val to spiral into late night insanity while you all contemplate the meaning of life and attempt to memorize vocabulary words. You slip in through the door, bass thudding into your molars and the heavy blanket of smoke and sweat covers your bare shoulders as you weave your way through the house.

“Look who finally showed up!” Behind the counter in the kitchen is Sam Wilson, running position as makeshift bartender. You detour long enough for a vodka and Diet Coke, stopping next to the barstool that Bucky’s perched on. He tucks you underneath his arm for a side hug, other hand tipping his own solo cup back as he tries to drain the last bit of liquor down his throat.

They’re good friends to you. It’s why you hate doing this dance with Satan — because at some point, you feel that there’s going to be a tectonic shift between the two of you that dredges up a rift in the concrete and you don’t know who will be left on your side. You don’t know who you’ll be able to look in the eye and lie to about Carol, who would pick you over her. You don’t even know if any of them would believe you or would write you off as crazy as you’ve been writing yourself off as of late.

You tell yourself that you’re trying, goddammit, to shove that piece of yourself back into a locked drawer and enjoy the company of your friends.

“Anybody seen Danvers?” you pitch as nonchalantly as you know how, planting your elbows down onto the granite of the counter while you watch Sam mix your drink. He goes heavy on the vodka, which you quietly appreciate.

Bucky snorts. “Yeah, we’ve seen her alright.”

“She’s in the dining room trying to rally everyone into a round of strip beer pong,” Sam explains. “Last we saw, she got her shirt stuck in the chandelier.”

“The face of class, this fraternity,” you tease as Sam hands you your drink. He can’t help but laugh, a jovial, guttural noise that makes you smile, even though your stomach is currently in your throat.

You bid them farewell and snake through the living room, trying to avoid the furniture or the bodies of other people and almost always fail in avoiding both at the same time as you carve out a path to the dining room. It’s densely packed, which forebodes the game of beer pong that the boys mentioned. You try not to cut your elbows into the bones and flesh of others to make your way through, but your adrenaline is humming at the thought of seeing Carol, the thought of her body glowing in the house lights and the cut of her physique out on display for anyone, including you, to openly ogle without abandon.

“Goddamn, Danvers!” someone yells mirthfully. “Keep it in your pants!”

Whistling down to one thought, one track, your mind lasers in and you’re positive that the sharp point of your elbow nails T’Challa directly in the ribs as you finally make it to the inner lip of the circle around the dining room table. It’s desperate. You know it’s desperate. You'll care about it later, you’re sure, but for now, all that’s on your mind is her.

“For the love of fuck, I—” Someone stumbles back into you, dark hair in frizzy waves and the bill of their baseball cap nearly jabbing straight into your nose. Wanda Maximoff spins around, her eyes lightening up at the sight of you as she grabs onto your wrist to stable herself. “Oh! Hey, babe,” she says with a smile. “Didn’t know you were coming.”

“Me either,” you tell her, trying not to be blatant as you scan for Carol. “Carol didn’t tell me until last minute.”

“Boo,” Wanda pouts, before turning to yell over her shoulder, “Danvers! Fuck you!”

“Get in line!” Carol calls back, and your head locks in on where her voice comes from. Your stomach plunges into free fall when you see her: as promised, she’s standing around in her sports bra and jeans, white teeth glinting and blonde hair curling around onto her tanned shoulders, biceps on display and her arms snaked around — her.

Maria Hill, in the flesh, pressed against Carol’s side and her chin balanced on Carol’s shoulder as Carol makes a shot one-handed that successfully lands in a cup on the opposite end of the table. Carol cheers victoriously, and Maria kisses her cheek, and you notice that Carol’s hand on Maria’s side drifts down towards her ass.

All of Carol’s messages swim inside your mind, the ones where she assures you that it’s all real, that she and Hill are done, that Hill’s holding her back, that she’s felt things for you since the moment she laid eyes on you and just knew; the ones where she paints a beautiful picture of a future with you, the same picture she’s just doused in cheap spirits and ruined for the dozenth time. Your drink suddenly tastes like arsenic, heavy and uneven in your stomach, the room shrinking and heat crawling up your neck in an uncomfortable panic. You are going to be sick.

Wanda’s voice comes through in the midst of the ringing in your ears. Fuck you, Danvers.

It takes you a moment to realize that Wanda’s voice isn’t just a reverberation inside your mind, but is right in your ear. “Hey!” She calls your name again, and you finally snap your attention back to her. She scans over your face for a moment, eyebrows folding in the center of her brow. “You alright? Where’d you just go?”

The shock is fresh on your face, salt water from the crashing wave that’s irritating your eyes — you refuse to let yourself cry, here in front of everyone, because all that’s going to do is open the door to a conversation you don’t want to have, incite a fight with Carol that you’ll surely lose, leave you feeling even lower than you do at the moment. You shake your head, trying to shake whatever emotions that aren’t nonchalant off of your face. “Noth—nowhere,” you stammer, voice an octave higher than usual. Wanda’s perplexity only deepens. “More crowded than I thought. Got beer-splashed.”

Wanda breaks into a smile, seemingly buying your excuse. “C’mon, what’d you expect?” she ribs. It’s a loaded question, and if Wanda wasn’t Wanda, you’re sure it’d be enough to light your rapidly shorting fuse. The thin strain in your falsified smile must give something away, because she softens the slightest bit and wraps her arm around yours. “Let’s go downstairs. I’ll kick your ass sideways in pool.”

You appreciatively take Wanda’s out, allowing her to guide you away from the Carol show and the crowd of people you have steeled yourself in order to not cry in front of and head with her towards the basement, which the frat has renovated into a lounge space with a giant television, sectional that is infamous for its hosting of The Threesome, and the pool table. It hasn’t garnered quite the same audience that the beer pong game has, but less people means you feel slightly less suffocated. Carol’s still got her foot on your throat, but down here, it’s easier to maneuver and act as though you haven’t just had yourself made a fool in front of everyone without them knowing.

Relieved for the little things, like elbow room, you sit down on the arm of the sectional and take a long drink from your cup — if you’re going to survive the rest of the night without your tail tucking between your legs (and you’re determined to further your self-sabotage by going the extra mile to ensure Carol knows she fucked up, even though it’s likely she doesn’t care) you’ll have to be drunker than this. Wanda adjusts her hat on her head and picks up a pool cue, glancing back over her shoulder at you. “Want someone to show you how it’s done?” she teases.

You lift your cup in acknowledgment, smile shedding off of your lips. “Go for it.”

As Wanda weasels her way into the current game of pool, you do a quick intake of who all’s downstairs. There’s a few of the brothers, a few of the brother’s dates, people that are otherwise background characters designed to make campus seem at capacity but not so many people that no one would notice if you threw up in the corner or worse, started crying. You purse your lips around the rim of your solo cup, scanning the company around the pool table. Wanda sidles up next to another one of her brothers, poking her with the pool cue. “Nat!” Wanda whines. “Give me room.”

Natasha Romanoff shuffles out of the way with the roll of her eyes. “Poke me with the stick again and it’s gonna go somewhere less than ideal.”

Wanda flicks her middle finger upright before hunching around the shape of the pool cue. “You don’t scare me, Natty.”

“Your funeral.”

Your eyes follow Natasha out of the way, and she feels their weight because the next thing you know, you’re off the cliffs and deep somewhere inside the greenery of her eyes. They’re pretty eyes, you idly note, and you find yourself mulling over Natasha Romanoff, as a person, as a concept, as Natasha. She’s the oldest of the girls in the fraternity, a senior to your junior, and she’s been around for so long that it’s hard to remember a time when she wasn’t there. It’s hard to imagine a room without her in it, a constant fixture on the mantel that you don’t even bother acknowledging it anymore.  

She cocks an eyebrow at you after what’s sure to be a long moment of staring, and Wanda, who is unfortunately more observant than you’d like to believe, begins laughing. “Am I interrupting this little staring contest?”

Natasha smirks. “I could win a staring contest and kick your ass at the same time, Maximoff.”

“Show off,” Wanda grumbles as she passes the pool cue over to Natasha. She then looks at you, and whatever grumpiness dissipates, her shit-eating grin returning. “Now, you on the other hand,” she preludes with a gesture towards you. “There’s no way.”

You drain the rest of your drink and discard the cup off to the side. "You talk a lot, Wan,” you inform her as you walk up to the side of the pool table. Wanda just grins as you turn to Natasha, gesturing for the pool cue. “Let me have a go.”

Natasha acquiesces and passes you the pool cue, giving you the space you need coupled with a low nod of encouragement. There are a few clusters of balls around the table and you’re trying to eye up a shot that’ll give you not only a handful of points, but will get Wanda off your back — even if you are grateful for the timing of her diversions.

Unfortunately, it’s not enough; you can still hear the laughter and music through the walls from upstairs, a raucous noise that scatters your train of thought. Is it Carol? What’s she doing? What’s she whispering into Hill’s ear? Does she know you’re even here? Does she care? 

Probably not.

You take the shot without thinking, balls ricocheting off the sides of the pool table. Wanda barks out a laugh. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Just getting warmed up,” you say stiffly, handing the pool cue off.

Wanda’s face is alight with amusement, nodding slowly as she moves around the pool table for her next shot. “Okay.”

You’re too far in your head, and you know it. You’re content to linger on the outskirts of the game while everyone else that Wanda goes about recruiting takes their turn. It’s a few minutes or an hour before the cue ends up back in your hand, like a rickety sort of clockwork that is unexpected but also entirely predictable. You assess the situation and find a decent enough angle now that the game has progressed, significantly so.

You bend over slightly, eyes fixed on a blue ten that’s not too far from the cue. Before you can make the shot, you hear someone behind you muttering. “Do it like this.”

When you glance over your shoulder, it’s Natasha, only a few inches from where you stand, hands hesitating before she reaches out. “Back up,” she guides, her hands stationing on your hips and forcing you to take a half-shuffle of a step backwards. “And lift your elbow like this.” You’re clay and she shapes you how she wishes, her touch feather light. “Okay. Now try.”

You do exactly as she says, pool cue shooting from your hand and colliding with the cue ball. The ten you’ve had your eyes on sails into the pocket without any interference. 

“Nice shot, sweetheart,” Natasha says, her voice ghosting along the back of your spine. As you straighten up, you glance behind you, noticing the faint grin along the curve of her lips.

“Well that wasn’t sexual at all,” Wanda comments with a low whistle as the pool cue returns to her grip. “Do losers get laid still? I wouldn’t know.” With a toothy flash of a grin, she draws the cue back and makes another shot — you’re not entirely focused on her efforts, thanks to the gravity of Natasha’s sights still pressing deep into your skin.  

Wanda talks a big enough game that she recruits nearly everyone standing around the pool shot to give it a go, which provides a window of opportunity for Natasha to brush a hand along your shoulder and steal you away. “Up for a smoke?” she asks, and you nod. You allow her to lead the way out through the basement’s French doors, slipping outside into the backyard where the sky is dotted with stars, the air smells only the slightest bit cleaner, and the music is nothing but a dull pulse from inside the house.

Natasha steers you away from the patio where other fraternity brothers and their guests are sitting around, enjoying their drinks and laughing amongst their idle, stoned conversations around the fire pit. You follow her into the grass, trailing around the side of the house until the two of you don’t have any other company aside from each other and Thor’s knockout rose bushes that he takes great pride in.

She leans up against the wall, hands fishing in the pocket of her jacket for her lighter. For someone who’s devoted the rest of their evening to shooting metaphorical (or even literal) middle fingers in Carol’s direction, you’re still too far on edge to be nonchalant about any of it. The quiet is all consuming, maddening inside of your buzzing mind. Natasha produces a joint, embers burning on the end as she lights it and brings it up to her lips. You’re left to watch as she takes a long, casual drag, a cloud of smoke billowing from her lips on the exhale. Her wrist then extends, offering the joint up; if there is such a thing as too eager, you’d be the poster child for it, the way you pluck it from her fingers and take a hit.

“Something on your mind?” she asks, her voice a low drag of gravel against the muted bass thud inside of the house. You open an eye and glance over at her, her green eyes burning holes through you as she watches. 

“Eh,” you mutter half-heartedly with a shrug. “Not worth it.”

You pass the joint back to her after you take one more drag, your eyes fixed on the steady stream of smoke that you forcibly control the exit from your mouth. It’s nice to have control over something, you think, even if it is, to some degree, just seeing how long you can hold your breath. 

“Seems like you could use a distraction,” Natasha comments, fingers idly rolling the joint between her fingers as smoke still curls from the tip. 

You laugh, a low and guttural noise that’s passive at best. “Yeah, probably.”

Natasha turns so her entire body is facing you, and it doesn’t register, the way that she’s looking at you, until you feel her brush your hair off of your face. Your eyes fully open, somewhat surprised by the action, watching her carefully. Natasha’s a lot of things, but gentle isn’t one you’d readily associate with her. It’s almost like she’s handling you like glass, waiting for the right moment to shatter you. It’s a hiccup in your chest, a strange feeling washing over your body.

“Let me distract you, then.” She says it simply, like it’s the most logical conclusion to arrive at.

“Nat, what...”

“C’mere.” One of her hands encircles your wrist, guiding you closer. You follow wordlessly in her guidance, unsure of what she’s doing or what’s to come. She takes another hit of the joint, her eyes glowing the same way the end of the joint does, a low burning fire that seems to grow hotter the longer your eyes are connected. 

The hand holding your wrist slides up your body until she’s cupping your jaw, her thumb darting across the expanse of your face to swipe across your lips in a prompt to open them. She lowers the joint, bringing her face inches away from your own as her mouth forms a perfect circle and releases smoke. You’ve shotgunned weed before, but never at such a close proximity. Natasha breathes out and you breathe in, eyes fluttering shut at the intimacy of the moment. 

“Gonna let me distract you some more?” she whispers, and you barely register yourself nodding before her lips capture your own. Her mouth is plush and soft but nothing about her is gentle anymore — this is where she forces a spiderwebbing crack across your surface, the deft way in which she manipulates your lips to do exactly as she’d like, her tongue skating across the skin and opening your mouth to allow her access. You can’t help but to sigh into the kiss. She is exactly what she claims she is: a distraction, a welcome reprieve, and the golden halo around Carol’s head seems fuzzy and jilted now.

Natasha kisses you like she’s trying to set you on fire; at some point she has absconded the joint and ground out its remnants into the mulch, both her hands cupping your face as she boxes you in with her legs and adjusts the two of you so your back is now flush against the wall. “How’s this?” she murmurs against your ear, lips starting a descent down your neck that is feather light and the gentle scrape of her teeth.

“Very... very distracting,” you stammer out, fingers curling into fiery red hair. 

“Good,” Natasha hums, her mouth vibrating over a particularly sensitive spot on your collarbone that causes your grip in her hair to tighten. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be so far in your head.” 

You nod, thankful for the reward of her body pressing against yours. 

“What d’you say?” Her voice ghosts over your skin, and for a moment, you’re not sure what it is she’s asking. It takes a moment, the weed and the liquor clouding your mind, but the dig of Natasha’s blunt fingernails into your hips and the graze of her teeth along your skin serves as motivation. “Huh? What d’you say, princess?” 

“Thank you,” you gasp, the feeling of her mouth tightening around your skin wet and hot sending a glimmer of electricity down your spinal cord. Natasha chuckles, a dark and melodic noise that buzzes through your body. 

“You’re welcome,” she croons. “’S that all you needed? Or do you need more?”

More. It’s the knee jerk response you have, the way your world has narrowed down to just her and the scent of her heady perfume and each individual curve of muscle is now flush against you. Your eyes open only to see Natasha grinning like she’s the fuckin’ devil. 

Maybe you were misplaced somehow.

Natasha’s hands drag over your sides, up and down roughly as she kisses you and forces your legs farther apart so she’s able to snake one of her thighs in between them. She rucks your top up on the edges, fingers brushing over your skin in a delightful contrast to the cool evening air. Natasha is hot, her touch burning and singeing the skin wherever it moves. She’s painting you out of ashes and making you into something beautiful, something uniquely her own. Her hands slip underneath your shirt and you feel one hand trail upwards, fingers wrapping around your breast before squeezing. It elicits another tiny moan from you, which Natasha swallows down with a kiss. “Shh,” she hisses against your lips. “Be quiet.”

You arch into her touch as her fingers slip beneath the cup of your bra and pinch your nipple tight, another squeak of pleasure groaned into her mouth. It only encourages her further, the other hand of hers moving in the opposite direction. “Want me to touch you?” she whispers in your ear while you press your mouth into her shoulder, breath warm against your ear and her teeth just barely missing your earlobe. “Bet you’re not distracted now; only thing you and that pussy are thinking about is me, huh?”

“Fuck, Nat,” you mumble into her skin.

“Yeah you are,” she replies with a shit eating grin, your head tilting back until it roughly meets the back of the wall as her hand goes up your skirt. 

You’d been meticulous prior to coming over, thinking on whatever lone star trailing in the sky that you’d be seducing Carol tonight; you’d purposefully worn your skimpiest pair of underwear just to show her what she could have if she was with you. It’s only when you see the look on Natasha’s face, the way her pupils dilate and her jaw slackens the slightest bit as her fingers skim in between the folds of your thigh and vulva and feels lace that you feel something resembling satisfaction. “You came ready for a distraction, princess,” she grumbles, moving your underwear to the side and swiping her fingers through what is now sheer want dripping from you. “Fuck, you’re wet.”

“N... Nat,” you whine, squirming around in the pursuit of pressure. “Touch me.”

She places the tip of her finger at your entrance, just barely teasing it in. “Ask nicely, honey.”

The words spill from your lips without thought. “Please, Nat, please touch me, fuck m—” She cuts you off as she slips her finger inside of you and you all but rocket up the side of the wall at the feeling. Her free hand, still underneath your shirt, wrestles out from beneath the fabric and is slapped over your mouth to muffle whatever noise you make.

“Thought I told you to be quiet,” she says between her gritted teeth. “Here.” She presses her index and middle fingers against your lips and you acquiesce, opening them wide enough to allow them to slip in. “Suck.”

You do as you’re told, happy to oblige as she begins to finger you. There’s nothing soft or sweet about the way she fucks you; she adds another finger and finds a steady rhythm, curling each time she’s knuckle deep inside of you just so she can be rewarded with you humming around the fingers in your mouth. It amuses her to some extent, the way her eyes have darkened and her mouth is slightly agape. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and considering how tight you are wound, you’re not going to last long.

"Clench around me, pretty girl,” she hisses amongst the other litany of dirty things she’s whispering in your ear. “Such a sweet pussy, does whatever I ask it to; what if I want this pussy all to myself? You gonna let me have it?”

You nod, Natasha withdrawing her fingers from your mouth before she hauls you in for the filthiest kiss of your life. “Fuck,” you whimper against her lips. “Yours, Nat, your pussy.”

“Yeah, I know. This is my pussy now, all tight and hot and wet and desperate just for me. This was what you needed, wasn’t it? Needed me to fuck you silly until you forget how to put one foot in front of the other.”

“Please, Nat, gonna...” 

“What?” she teases, her thumb flicking across your clit and you know that she’s doomed you, mind and body barreling down a track that there is no return from. “What, baby? Use your words.”

“Gonna come,” you manage to get out, and she fucking laughs.

“‘S right,” she agrees. “Gonna make this little pussy come all over my fingers, since I’m the only one who can. That right?” You nod; her fingers tighten in your hair and pull your head back so your neck is exposed for her. “C’mon, baby, wanna see you make a mess on my hand. Come for me like a good little slut. You know you want to.” You do, you do, and everything is bordering on the edge of too much the way Natasha is sucking your neck and rubbing tight circles on your clit. “Show me who’s pussy this is. Come.”

Another few thrusts and flicks of your clit and you are gone, Natasha bringing her mouth back to yours to swallow the keens and cries of you hitting your climax. The brick wall underneath you scratches at your shirt but it is a heavenly feeling, losing control underneath Natasha. She just smiles when she pulls away and you slump into her, perfectly sated. 

“That was hot,” she says with a wicked grin, pulling her fingers out of you. She doesn’t break eye contact as she brings them up to her lips, sucking your taste off of them. Her eyes alight with pleasure, a contented hum reverberating from her vocal cords. “Thanks, pretty girl.”

Beat that, Danvers.

[oksana-moods]

Queens of Promise - Smut Part

Summary: Following the trails of her sun kissed skin led you directly to a heaven that you soon learned you had been locked out of.

A/N: Okay, if you don’t read smut, this chapter is not for you, but worry not. Part 9 will be posted around the weekend of shortly after. Now if you do read smut, here’s a treat. Some sort of 8.5 part for the ones who enjoy this kind of reading and yeah I wrote roughly 4.5k words of smut. It was just so easy, it flowed haha. Please, tell me your thoughts.

Warnings: Smut. MINORS DNI! +18 ONLY! Explicit content, bad language.

Previous Parts here

“Between Heaven”

“I- I don’t know how to love.” You reply. You had had many experiences with women in bed or in any place actually, but you had never loved. And Wanda Maximoff, somehow, was so much more and again, you didn’t want to treat her any less than she deserved. “And you deserve more.”

Her brows furrowed at your hesitance, but one look in your eyes and she knew how scared you were. Maybe for completely different reasons but still, just a scared woman in front of another.

“You speak about what I deserve, but what about what I want?” Her words set your whole body on fire and you’re all but aware of how close she was. “And I want you to show me how it is.” Her confidence hit you full force and you couldn’t deny how bad you desired the woman standing in front of you.

You felt her hand caress your cheek then your hair, then back to your cheek. “Wanda, I don’t wanna do anything that you might regret.” You held onto your last shred of consciousness as if your life depended on it. Maybe not your life, but your sanity.

Wanda was about to link her lips with yours again, but refrained herself at your words, then looked at you and asked you to open your hooded eyes. “I want you to be the first to touch me. I won’t regret this.” Her voice was hotter than lava and melted every nerve in your brain.

Her body burned with the same desire yours did. Then, you let go of that fragment of consciousness and let your own instincts take over your entire being. “Your wish is my command, Your Highness.”

You pulled Wanda into your body and as soon as her body was fully flushed against yours, you pulled her in for a searing kiss, setting your heart ablaze. Your hands roamed her body as if desperate to feel her.

You kissed her cheek, then her earlobe before your lips found her neck. While you let your own desire dictate the rhythm, Wanda’s mind became a puddle of nothingness. She had never been touched like this before and only the gods knew how much she yearned for your touch.

While kissing, biting and sucking on her pulse point, your hand hovered over her breast and gave light squeezes, the best you could with so many clothes standing between your skins.

Realizing she needed more, much more than she was having, Wanda helped you ease the buttons of your tunic. Since you were disguised as a trader, your clothes weren’t so difficult to shed, but hers, it was quite the opposite.

As you walked to her back in order to take off the many laces of her dress, Wanda’s mind started to wander and wonder. You definitely moved expertly, so far, you knew where to kiss or touch as if her body was your own.

“I’ve heard stories about your…” She bit her tongue, trying to find the right words. She was taught that a princess shouldn’t use bad words or talk about profanities. “Sexual adventures.” She decided to find a common ground. Not too much polite nor too much whorish.

She closed her eyes and this time she bit back a low moan that tried to escape her lips when you bit the exposed skin of her back.

“Hm.” You hummed before biting her once again, this time slightly harder and, this time, Wanda couldn’t suppress the sound escaping from her mouth. “People like to talk. Why don’t you tell me what stories and I’ll tell you whether they are true or not?”

Wanda nodded, not fully certain that you’d see, but she couldn’t trust her voice. Your hands touching her over the fabric was maddening enough. She couldn’t even think about when you touched her bare.

Upon feeling that you were working on the laces, she tried to concentrate on said stories. They were vulgar but she’d be lying if she said she never felt a fever on her midsection once or twice.

“C’mon, Princess. I wanna hear it.” Your voice so low on her ear wrecked her nerves, little by little. In addition to that, the way you always pronounced the word princess made her blood boil, for you always spoke as if it weren’t her tittle, but a condescending call. And fuck, her body betrayed her resolves once more when another moan escaped her lips.

A low chuckle was the only thing she heard, but she knew you had seen what you were doing to her. You were experienced and she was just a woman about to be deflowered and, for the first time in her life, she didn’t want you to be respectful about it.

“You made love with a woman before her husband could. Called for prima nocte.” Wanda spoke one of the first stories she had heard about your libertine actions across the world.

“False.” One lace off and you kissed Wanda’s bare skin. The feel of her body against yours and the power you had over her was intoxicating, your heartbeat increased with every sound coming from her mouth.

“You took a whore as company when you went to a war against a rebel Lord.” Wanda found her voice but with all your ministrations was getting hard to focus on her memory.

“False.” You kissed her again. “She was a castle maid from Triskelion, not a whore.” You clarified and Wanda gasped both at your words and at your tongue touching her back.

“And you threatened to make love with said Lord’s wife if he didn’t stop with the rebellion.” Wanda’s voice failed her for the first time as your fingers touched the growing amount of bare skin of her back.

“True, though I remember using the word fuck.” Your voice was back on her ear, your hot breath was electrifying. “I’d fuck his wife and daughter if he didn’t stop the rebellion.”

Wanda gasped both at your words and at your mouth leaving a kiss on her earlobe before returning to your activity. There was something about the way promiscuous words rolled out of your tongue, her body was on fire and, though completely inexperienced, she knew you didn’t even start.

“And I didn’t have to enforce for his daughter came willing for me to fuck her.” You completed though Wanda’s mind was far gone, for she felt that you had reached and opened the last lace. She could feel her gown loose on her frame, yet you haven’t undressed her.

Shivers shot throughout her body as you left a trail of hot open-mouthed kisses over her back, the trail followed the perfect path of her back bones from the nape of her neck until her lower back. She felt your hands roaming her skin as if to touch-imprint the feel on your memory.

It was so chaste and so sensual at the same time, which sent her nerves into tatters and the redhead could feel the heat pooling on her midsection. If she were to be honest, it was embarrassing the effect you had over her body.

With your nose, you trailed her back up until your mouth was once again close to her ear and asked. “Can I?” Your hand gave a light pull on her dress so she could understand what you were asking.

She remained silent and you feared that your confession had scared her away, but it was short lived for her voice broke the silence.

“Please.” Right then and there, you realized, that there was nothing that you wouldn’t do if Wanda asked you with that voice. It was half whispered half raspy and full of crave.

With a light pull of your hand, the gown pooled on the ground at Wanda’s feet and although you were behind her, you saw her trying to raise her arms to cover her body. Only you stopped her by gently grabbing her arms.

“I won’t hurt you.” You whispered into her ear and punctuated with a chaste kiss on her shoulder. “If you’re uncomfortable, I can stop.” You were so turned on that your whole body shook, but you wouldn’t be a jerk and disregard Wanda’s feelings.

“I know. It’s not you.” You opened your eyes as you felt her moving and now her front was completely flushed against your body. “This- I’m feeling a little self-conscious. That’s all.”

Her insecurity hit you in the chest for you did not expect that. If anything, Wanda’s body was just as perfect as a sculpture could be. In fact, Wanda’s body was a shrine begging to be worshiped.

“You are perfect, Wanda.” You kissed her lips once, then trailed until her shoulders and back. “Let me show you just how much.”

This time, she didn’t give you an answer. Not with words, for that matter. She pulled you in for a kiss that could scorch your soul but only made your body crave hers more and more.

Almost impatiently, Wanda pulled your lower tunic and you got rid of your pants and soon you were skin to skin.

After guiding her to the bed, your mouth left hers and trailed down the sweet valley of her breasts. You tasted one, then teased the other before lavishing her nipples with the attention they desperately needed.

Wanda’s back arched once, then twice with every movement of your tongue around her hardened peaks, and it was perceptible that it was becoming hard for her to control the sounds coming out of her mouth.

You travelled southern on her body, never forgetting to kiss or touch every single inch of her silky skin and with every touch another jolt of pleasure coursed through her. And every moan made you wetter.

When you were a little bit lower than the line of her navel, and about to reach her intimacy, you looked up silently asking for permission. Wanda nodded at you through demi-hooded eyelashes, and you swore that you were yet to see sexiest sight.

You continued down and found her midsection already soaked. You had felt it while grinding your leg on it, but this sight, well, now this was the sexiest.

You had to physically refrain yourself from attacking her lips and clit directly, but you remembered that this was her first time. You couldn’t act like a deranged dog. So, out of respect, you planted small kisses on her groin, up and down on both sides until she was used to your actions.

Her breathing, though, became heavier with every touch of lips and tongue.

Then, you gave a feather-like kiss on her sex and chuckled when Wanda’s body jolted out of the bad.

“Sorry.” She apologized, but you assured her with another kiss, not so light this time.

Soon, you stopped with the kisses and started to lick and suck her clit in the rhythm of her moans and sharply intakes of air. As you started to properly eat her out, Wanda’s knuckles were white, grabbing the sheets for dear life and that sight drove your head into nuts.

Incoherent words started to fall from her mouth, but you couldn’t understand, and you knew the reason why she spoke so low. “You can speak out loud. No one’s going to hear you, except for me.” You reassured her with your signature smile.

“But I-.” She tried to form coherent thoughts as she popped on her elbows, but it proved harder than she had imagined. “These words are so unladylike.”

You chuckled and kissed her inner thighs just for good measure, but you liked the effect it had on her, nonetheless. “You can speak whatever you want, Princess. I’m sure I’m going to like.”

Not even sparing her a glance, you dived between her legs again and her moan was loud and clear this time. “Don’t hold back your pleasure.” Your ministrations pulling sweet sounds from her, and it was driving you insane.

After a hard suck on her clit, Wanda jolted again half shouting an ‘oh’. You could feel the pleasure building in her and she wouldn’t take long.

“OH.” She exclaimed and the flow of juices coating your chin and tongue told you that she had come. You locked eyes with her long enough to see her shy smile, making your heart do somersaults in your chest.

When she rested her head again, you lunged on to her intimacy for another round. The moans and jolts were accompanied by grunts and another set of incoherent words, though this time you could almost discern one or another.

Deciding to increase her pleasure, you used one finger to tease her entrance and her perinium “Oh my-.” She cut herself by biting her lips and you smirked, she was closer than you thought and soon, your mouth was rewarded with her juices again.

“Such a good girl.” You murmured as you climbed the bed so you could lay by her side. Wanda only smiles and has her eyes hooded, definitely enjoying the bliss of her orgasm.

“What you were doing down there,” Wanda’s raspy voice broke the silence. “It was so good.” and it was your turn to smile softly. Her body glistened with a thin coat of sweat and by the gods she got more beautiful with every passing second.

She opened her eyes and let her head fall to the side to properly look at you, there was this new emotion dancing in her eyes, and you wished you could categorize every single one of them for later contemplation.

Wanda lifted her hand and traced your features with the back of her index finger, it was slow and kind as if she too was trying to engrave your traces into her skull. “You are so pretty.” She said softly, voice much like an angel. “Your eyes, your lips… you’re driving me insane.”

The back of her finger touched your lips, and you pecked it lightly, earning another smile from her. You leaned down and kissed her once more. It was slow, almost lazy until she pulled back and asked.

“Is this taste…?” You chuckled at the poor woman in front of you. Like a full castle lady, she couldn’t let vulgar words pass through her lips, it doesn’t matter that she spoke one or two barely minutes ago.

“You, Wanda.” You kissed her again, languidly, and pulled back looking directly at her eyes. “This sweet taste is your sweet juice.”

You saw her cheeks tinting with a light shade of red and you laughed. The innocence right after what you just did wouldn’t match anyone else but her. You dropped your head and kissed her cheek once, then traced her cheekbone with your nose until your breath found her ears.

The redhead knew that this action was nothing compared to what you just did, the kisses and the things you made her feel, but she could feel her body reacting again. Her arousal flared through her body like a wave and the feeling was exhilarating.

When you kissed the skin right under her ear, the sokovian let out a strangled breath and you felt her hand coursing through your back. Her nails dug onto your skin right after you bit her neck the harsher until now.

Your lips were back on hers in no time and, for the second time that night, your leg was in between hers, this time the wetness pooled from her center but also from yours. The feel of this perfect woman exploring your body was maddening, especially after she learnt that if she squeezed your ass just right, she’d bring your hips onto hers.

Between sloppy kisses and ragged breaths, Wanda would probably make you cum by only grinding her and it wasn’t fair. Her power over you wasn’t fair.

Wanda moaned and all the pleasure she was feeling was everything and nothing at the same time. Somehow, she wanted more. She wanted you more, but she didn’t know how to ask for. Or even what to ask for.

However, she desperately needed to feel more.

The harshness with you groped Wanda’s ass made her hiss and bite your shoulder, earning her a moan from you. It was plain to see that she’d make you go insane by the dawn if you lasted that long.

You found yourself kissing and playing with her nipples again. If more comfortable with you and your ministrations or if because she was finally setting herself free, was unknown to you, but Wanda moaned loudly. It was music to your ears.

As your tongue swirled around her hard, swollen peaks, your hand traveled further down her body. The woman beneath you hissed and let her head fall back on to the mattress as your finger circled her clit.

The wetness coated your digits, making it easy for you to tease her folds, her entrance and go back to her clit. It was almost a pattern, sometimes slow and sometimes pressing her intimacy a little harder, but never really touching where you wanted. Or she needed.

You wanted to make sure Wanda would feel all the pleasure you could give, you wanted to make sure that her first time being touched would be as perfect and delightful as it can be. All you wanted was to love her properly.

It was obvious by her body movements that Wanda wanted more. Her lust was so high that she’d take your fingers and anything you were willing to give her, but you never quavered your ministrations.

With the tip of your middle finger at her entrance, you locked eyes with her and asked. “Can I?” There was no turning back now. After her answer, her life would change forever. Up until now it was all teasing and play, but now you offered her the real game.

“Yes.” She choked between deep breaths, mouth sexily hanging open and eyes wide with anticipation.  

You held eye contact as you slowly slid your finger passed her cunt and you felt her tight walls pressing your digit. Her face contorted with pain but also with pleasure and her mouth moved without speaking any word.

This woman would be the death of you.

You let her adjust to your length for a moment and when her chest weaved with calmer breaths, you started to move. Nice and slow. In and out in a lazy pace, you could feel her sex clenching around your finger, sending your nerves out of the window.

This new feeling, the feel of you inside her was effervescent, incandescent even. Her soul, much like her body, was about to burst with this new sensation. Her hips moved on their own accord, as if trying to meet your hand and increase the pleasure.

She tried. She tried moving faster but still felt like something was missing. She wanted more and this time she asked.

“More.” She breathed out and she wanted to slap your face after you shot her one of your daring smile. You were playing with her body, taking your time and finding pleasure in make her squirm under your touch like a needy virgin.

Although you were indeed playing the sculpture laying under you, you conceded her wish. You took your finger from her cunt and after a whine escaping Wanda’s lips, you pushed two fingers inside her. Walls once again clenching around your skin, sending goosebumps through your spine.

You could feel she was full, moving desperately to increase the friction because you still kept a steady pace. You wanted to see how far you could take her, for the sight of her writhing and about to beg was heavenly.

Incoherently words flew from her lips, and you knew what she wanted. You didn’t have to be experienced to know that. But you wanted her to give in to you fully. You needed her to.

“Use your words, princess.” Your hot breath on her ear and that tone again made her walls clench involuntarily. The way you used her title as a praise was infuriatingly hot and she had to admit you had her wrapped around your finger. Literally.

The shyness that refused to leave her the whole night, suddenly was thrown out of the window. Much like a shameless whore, she bellowed. “Gods fuck me. Harder.” The urgency of her command was emphasized by her nails piercing your skin, much like her existence punctured yours.

And who were you to deny any demand of this ruler? Who were you if not another servant willing to do as their mistress ask? Who were you if not the most devoted disciple of this goddess?

She asked and you delivered. You fucked her just as she had asked and if before her moans were loud, right now it was like her lungs couldn’t hold back any longer. Your name floated through her lips, and she enchanted it like a prayer.

The rhythm which you fell in with her body was like magic and you had never experienced it before in your life. Up until now, you hadn’t felt the pleasure coursing through your partner’s body like you did now. As she chased her orgasm it was like your own body could feel it too.

You could feel the pressure building within her stomach, so you cooed. “Cum for me, princess.” Again, the praise sent shockwaves through her skin, and it was all too much. She couldn’t hold this amazing sensation any longer, so she came undone.

Wanda’s screams as she reached her climax were certainly engraved in your memory for life and, much like the sight of her, you’d never forget the things she made you feel.

After you helped her ride her high, you took your fingers from inside her and you could see her eyes darkening with lust once you wrapped your lips around your fingers as to clean the juices coating them.

“Gods, the things you make me feel.” Wanda sighed and you snorted amused, wondering if she could read your mind like an open book. Or maybe she was a witch.  

“You’re beautiful, Wanda.” You kissed her lightly before laying down by her side. You could feel your core pulsating with need, but you wouldn’t ask her to touch you. Your adventures were probably too much for her already.

Your thoughts were sliced, though, as she turned her body to face you. Expectancy was evident in her face, but also something else. Again, she was unsure. You just didn’t know of what.

“I- I don’t know what to do.” She stated almost uncertain, and you frowned your brows in confusion and hurt.

One would think that after the night and pleasure you had just shared, Wanda would stop doubting of the undeniable feelings growing between the pair of you. But no.

She’s still feeling the bliss of the sex, yet, here she was, breaking your heart with her fears and will probably go back to her enchants of ‘we’re enemies’ as though you didn’t just pour your heart for her.

“Wanda.” You sighed, your wetness belonged to the past now. “We can figure what to do with this enemies thing in the morning, yeah?” You asked, eyes almost pleading for her to let you in, for once.

“What are you talking about?” Wanda retorted, now her brows were furrowed too.

“Weren’t you just second guessing what we just did?” You asked again, suddenly feeling a bit lost.

And definitely, a lot lost when Wanda laughed. You realized, with a start, that this was the very first time you saw her laughing this freely. Eyes closed, nostrils flaring and mouth wide open. She was like an angel brought to Earth.

Your heart literally fluttered watching her.

After her laugh died down, Wanda looked at your eyes and spoke. “No, you twat. I was saying that I don’t know what to do.” She let her hands roam your body a little as if trying to convey her message, then completed. “To make you feel good too.”

“Oh.” You muttered dumbly and she sneered at you again. You were so used to her withdraws that your brain automatically read her sentence as another one. “Oh.” You muttered again after your mind finally wrapped itself around what she meant.

“You don’t have to.” You assured her, with a small smile gracing your lips. “It’s okay.”

She shook her head lightly and shifted her body so now it was her turn to straddle you. The previous confusion now long forgotten, and your body shivered with anticipation. Your own arousal was back on full force.

“But I want to.” She purred in your ear as she lowered her body. The feeling of her nipples against your own was from another world. This woman had you at her mercy.

“Just do what your body says.” You whispered after you found your voice, for her mouth was already attacking your neck as if there was no tomorrow.

If anyone would’ve told that one single woman, made of flesh, could open the gates of the heavens for you, you’ve laughed. But here you were, knocking the doors of the paradise called Wanda.

Apparently, the redhead was a fast learner for her mouth was sent from heaven while playing with your nipples. But when she reached your sex, it was as if she’d suck the life out of you and by the gods the sight of Wanda eating you out whole mouth was the sexiest sight you had ever had.

Every kiss, every touch was like a thousands of blazing suns scorching your soul until you begged for forgiveness to every and all of your sins. Even the ones you haven’t committed yet. There was something spiritual in the way the auburn woman drove your body to a hidden place of pleasure.

Right then and there, you understood that the feel of Wanda’s love was like waking up into a perfect dream. It is like learning that you’ve been locked out of heaven this whole time and she was the goddess who guarded the key.

Much like the time, inexorably and inevitably, your heart fell for Wanda, for everything you possessed now belonged to her.

Body, mind and soul.

Part 9

taglist: @californianwhiterabbit

[angelofverdum]

Agatha all along S01E05

Hey girl, feeling better? How's your face?

I can't believe the writers messed up Agatha's trial. This episode felt so off-putting. Agatha is the main character, how are you going to write such an underwhelming episode for her?

For my sanity, I'm going to believe it was because Teen was controlling them.

I wanted to believe Teen wasn't Wiccan really hard. I was praying those theories and rumors weren't true, because I knew this would happen.

Now, the whole house is mad. Wanda's stan hating on Agatha and Agatha's stan hating on Teen.

First, I don't think Agatha killed Alice on purpose. I think Agatha's powers are like a drug for her, so when Alice hit her she couldn't control it. Her remorse was real. My question is why did the door only open once Alice was dead? The trial was done to punish Agatha.

Sure, it was awful that Alice died after breaking her curse but wasn't that her role? To protect. And at the end of the day, Agatha is a villain and her mother sucks.

Teen's reveal was one of the most underwhelming things I've seen on TV. I don't know if it was because we all knew already or because Kathryn Hahn was acting circles around the heartstopper guy, like did you see how she changed her expression when she figured it out? An actress.

By the promo pictures, the next episode is focused on him and some people are mad about that. I understand it's Agatha's show but we literally need to know his backstory, and what the hell was he doing in Westview.

I'm not a Wiccan defender but he is Wanda's son and Agatha and Wanda are connected, whether you like it or not.

I feel like we need to wait and see what happens after the next episode to start a riot, if they made the show all about him and Wanda then we can fight.

He could have been looking from Wanda and ended up in Westview, only to realize that Agatha is a witch like his mom. Or he could be Agatha's antagonist.

Honestly, I wish he was Agatha's son. That way the show wouldn't have any connections with the movies and it could be their own thing, and maybe get another season.

[pamaizai]

Hey, what's your favorite Dont Starve Character(by Lucy from last post I would guess Woody) and why you preffer this character, also whats your least favorite one. And besides of that, any advices for a person that just starts to learn drawing? (like i sketch a bit from time to time with pencil or on secondhand graphics tablet (small wacoom one) for relax but i would like to draw more often and try to improve my skill from almost zero XD, and do you have any advice about shaky line in digital? Like sure I can use stabilizer setting, but if i put it too high i draw hella slow, and if its too small its too shaky(I use fire alpaca and medibang if it has anything to do with it).

I am playing as him since 2018 so even before he got his update. Why? well, he has Lucy- undestructible axe that you cant get rid of (you can actually abuse it bc by design its a flint axe and you can switch a 1% durability one into Lucy, giving other player the brand new) and i vibe a lot with him regarding his backstory. Also most friends i played with are Wendy, Willow, Wortox, Wickerbottom, Warly and Wx players- so we have fire and charcoal, attacker, healing, quickstart with backpacks, food making and a aguy who goes head first underground- but no real gatherers.

Before updates he was just a "chop chop" guy that could go insane if he did it too much (rel) so you had to balance it with planting and cutting down the trees. After his character refresh it he became ace of all trades- he can gather wood, stone, grass saplings as a beaver, he can kill hoardes of hounds and spiders and even the Deerclops as a moose, he can locate lunar island and discover the map as goose.

And after skilltree update he can even create a helmet and +15% speed walking cane- tho other perks regarding his wereforms i think make his character too easy, especially when you earn points by playing as him so you KNOW his weaknesses and learn how to work with them, to just turn them off (hunger and sanity).

He is useful in every situation in my eyes. And i like bringing 5 stacks of wood in first 3 days. Also i learned to kite treeguards :D

I dont really mind any characters. All of them are pretty balanced and dont have annoying drawbacks that makes me not want to touch them-i simply prefer Woodie. But i aint fond of one decision Klei made regarding Wortox, Wurt, Wormwood and Wanda, so all purchasable ones-not because of mechanics tho.

Why do they have ghost models corresponding to their equipped skins, but not other characters? I want wood themed Woodie transformations too q-q even Abigail has her own skins whyyyyy

Regarding drawing i dont really have good tips. The only ones that are coming to my mind is

breaking model into geometric shapes might help (thats how i draw most of the time and its visible in my sketches)

referencing instead of tracing, even badly referenced helps you more with drawing

using your own hands as a reference is enough XD and its not cheating to look out poses

the more you draw something the better you get at it

you can actually make black shadows work but it will make it seem flat, dark purple set on multiply is enough to me but it depends on artstyle i noticed

Those happened to me:

you may see a lot of mistakes in your own artwork more often than others so dont fret abt it. But if you really are anxious (like me) you can go back to look at it some time after finishing.

you dont have to draw everything in every style. Its no artschool here and you are mostly drawing for yourself anyway. Tho dont use it as an excuse to only draw one thing, try something new from time to time.

custom brushes are cool and dont be afraid to experiment with them. Who knows, it may become your go-to/default brush.

harder pencils dont erase that well but are good with details and leave a lighter mark, als you probably wont need a whole set of 'em i am using like 3 at most (5H, HB, H)

even tho i have a sketchbook on myself 24/7 i still end up drawing in notebooks because i think "its not good enough for a sketchbook"- no, SKETCHbook, its meant for doodling so do it there and you will have a way to track your progress (i myself have a whole DRAWER of papers that i sometimes look through and let me tell ya, seeing that progress is noice)

i knooow they may seem generic but everyone has a different way of drawing and some things may or may not work for them. and i never went to artschool im self taught tho i learned a lot by looking at other artists and watching speedpaints.

With Stabilization- I didnt really use FireAlpaca or Medibang, but I remember that when i was using my old One by Wacom tablet i did had it on like 7 in SAI, because my hand was trained well enough to not shake so much but i needed it to be more precise. I would try drawing a zig zag and waves on the lowest setting and then increase it until you can draw sharp edges and smooth curves at the same time, with line following your pen path as close as possible. The slower you draw lines the more precise it gets.

it might be a bit different in each program especially with different ranges of stabilization but it might be similar to what i have here.

It could be issue of a compatibility between tablet and program, but i checked for myself and it shouldnt be it, tho it doesnt really make it impossible.

hope i helped with artist part of ask ^^"

[clarktooncrossing]

HEY THERE PEOPLE OF TODAY AND ROBOTS OF TOMORROW! IT'S ME, CLARK! There is a madness deep in the dark catacombs of Castle Clarkenstein. For years these claustrophobic corridors have been the home of the ghoulish giraffe himself, watching as the world passes by. He prefers it this way. It gives him more time alone with the voices. The voices tell him many strange things. Yet they always come back to one: make more monsters! Everyday they tell him this. Everyday he is unable to comply. Hey, being a mad scientist on a budget means he can’t afford the fancy scientific equipment needed to breathe life into newborn abominations. Guy’s gotta afford pizza somehow. Luckily, he has discovered a way of sorts to please the voices. During all those years of watching, Dr. Clarkenstein noticed a particular pattern. Every night during October saw artists posting new pictures based on peculiar prompts. Many of them based on children of the night. While the spotted specter might not be able to craft new zombies, he can sure as heck sketch’m! As such, I provide this friendly warning to you all now: Be afraid. Few people can survive the horrors that are DUDELZ of the Damned!

By that I mean I decided to do my own take on Sketchtober this year just minus the prompts. Anybody gotta problem with that? Tough, cuz I already drew this crap so you might as well check it out.

How does an alien hailing from the planet Garbanzo manage to run a successful drive-in business in the age of streaming services? By not being an idiot. After buying a former run-down truck stop turned drive thru, Ziggy realized his enterprise had to cater to a niche audience. A niche audience that, like him, realizes the best way to watch B-Movies is on a big-screen from the comfort of your car. It’s why the Robot Monster goes to such great lengths to keep everything running smoothly. Thus everyday he sweeps the parking lots, pops fresh popcorn, and inspects his projectors. Gotta make sure the movie can actually be watched, am I right? Can’t very well enjoy The Blob when your equipment’s possessed by evil and spewing out blood like a gore geyser! It’s why he and his wife Wanda make sure to sharpen the chainsaw whenever possible. That’s just smart business!

It’s also an excuse for me to pay tribute to Evil Dead. Specifically the scene near the end where Ash (Bruce Campbell) stumbles around the cellar of the cabin, looking for buckshot only to find more blood. The poor man has the stuff dumped onto his head by the gallon via leaky pipes before he’s seen quivering in front of an antique projector. More of the red stuff leaks onto the lens, making it look like the whole world is turning a creepy shade of crimson around our hapless hero. According to Campbell, the scene was meant as a tribute to one of the production’s backers, Andy Grainger. Thank goodness for Andy then, cuz it’s easily the most ironic moment in the movie, even serving as the cover for the comic adaptation years later. It at least serves as the perfect visual for Sam Raimi’s style of directing. Weird camera techniques, buckets of blood, and Bruce Campbell’s sanity shredded to pieces. Now here it all is in my tribute to the films starring Clarksburg’s resident B-Movie expert, Wonder Ziggy. I hope to draw more of this crazy character soon, but for now I hope you all enjoy this DUDEL!

MAY THE GLASSES BE WITH YOU!

PS: In case anybody's wondering where yesterday's DUDEL is, sorry folks, my schedule got wonky. I plan on re-releasing that soon, but first I gotta finish a commission for my friend AND cleaning my entire house to bottom. My entire body is sore, though given Ziggy's circumstance, maybe I shouldn't complain. XD

[randomshyperson]

Craving - Wanda Maximoff x Reader [Kinktober]

Summary: Work reports pile up between the kisses you two share, and even though you insist you need a break, Wanda craves for you.

Warnings: (+18), smut, bottom!Wanda (little bratty too), thigh riding, making out, teasing, top!reader, fingering | Words: 900

A/N-> Is this Kinktober or Bottom!Wanda month? There are no complaints from me, to be clear.

Kinktober Collection | General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--

A pile of accumulated reports took up much of your desk, yet in the room, there were no sounds of keys or pencils, only the rubbing of clothes and lips - Gasping whispers mingled as you and Wanda rolled over in bed.

"I really... need... work..." Lost words escaped between one kiss and another, but neither of you made any mention of getting up and ending the heavy making-out session. Wanda, in fact, firmed her hips against yours, both legs open at your sides as she ground deliciously on top of you, her lips never leaving yours.

You followed the rhythm of her tongue, and when she sucked, pulling out a whimper from you, you felt the smug smile on her lips and you took advantage of her mouth descending to your jaw to regain a little control over your own breathing.

"Wanda." You called out to her, once, twice, three times until she grunted impatiently and turned her gaze to you, dark and affected. You offered a small smile, your hands on her thighs. "Three days of piling up work, baby. I love you, but if I delay another day, the captain will come here and get me out of your room himself."

"We'll keep the door locked." She retorts as she leans in, lips brushing against yours as she speaks, and you almost give in. But you take a deep breath and turn your face away before you lose your sanity. "Please, baby, I need you."

You groan with the purposefully needy and husky tone she used against your ear, squeezing Wanda's thighs. 

"God, you're such a tease." You murmur, shuddering at the wet kisses Wanda deposits on your neck. "Let me finish at least a few, then we can play." You try to reason, but Wanda begins to suck on your skin. Once she marks it, satisfied with how you gasp, she whispers in your ear.

"But I want you now." 

"Wands, please-"

"I'm not letting you go." She interrupts you almost in annoyance, firming her arms around you, and you sigh, hugging her thighs.

"Okay, but I need to work, or we're going to get even busier and further away from each other." You argue, reasoning better now that she has stopped kissing you. Moving with some difficulty, you crawl across the mattress with Wanda on your lap, until you reach the table. You drag the item close to the edge of the bed and sigh again as you try to concentrate on the boring Avengers reports and not on your girlfriend's perfume. 

Just as you begin to understand what you are reading, Wanda gets bored, and bites your shoulder, causing you to exclaim in pain and surprise.

"Jesus, what was that for?" You question receiving only a guilty chuckle in return as she adjusts herself on your lap.

"Pay attention to me." She asks trying to occupy your field of vision as you try to continue your reading. "Y/N!"

You put the paper down, looking her in the eye.

"We've been fucking for days, and it's been amazing, don't get me wrong, but we need to work, Wands! I bet you have a dozen reports to fill out as well and-"

"I don't care." She interrupts as she sits on your thigh, biting her lip as she finds the perfect pressure. You squeeze the paper hard as you feel the heat emanating from her. "I really want to cum but if you're not going to help me, I'm going to do the work myself."

You open your mouth in surprise, a warm heat spreading throughout your body. Wanda raises her eyebrow in challenge, and you let out a chuckle.

"Go ahead then, I wanna watch." You retort, and she gasps slightly, blushing heavily over your gaze. But she doesn't lose her nerve, and you bite your lip as she begins to move, grinding slowly against your thigh. You know she is not wearing panties, both from the wetness you can feel and the fact that hours ago it was you who ripped the item out after showering together, but the information still makes you shiver.

Wanda lets out affected sighs as the friction is precise on her clit, and you flex your thigh to help her, receiving a satisfied smile in appreciation. It doesn't take long for her movements to fail, and she chokes, grabbing your shoulders.

"Malysha, please, I need more." She practically begs, bouncing on your thigh, her wetness spread all over your skin.

You move one hand to her waist, and the other to the sweaty strands of her hair falling in front of her face. "Oh, honey, but you were so confident about doing it on your own." You tease, and Wanda grunts with some frustration, her orgasm close but out of her reach. "Keep trying, it's hot to watch you."

She gasped in irritation, grabbing your jaw to kiss you hard, her hips never stopping moving, her pussy making a wet, hot trail on your skin. The sensation was completely intoxicating, and you had no idea when you dropped the reports nor when you pushed them to the floor to put Wanda on the table and sink two fingers inside her, but neither of you is complaining.

Not when she cums, not when she screams your name into the ceiling.

Only when F.R.I.D.A.Y lets you know that Captain Rogers has asked for a little quiet and prioritization in the work activities.

[femalexfuries]

You're Home

Paring: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Tags/Warnings: 18+ Only, Soft!Giantess!Wanda, Semi-Dark!Fic, Age Play, Mommy Kink, Size Kink, Slight Dumbification, Slight Angst, Mentions of Kidnapping, Mentions of Punishment

Length: 2.9K

Summary: A series of moments between you and Wanda.

Green eyes, bright and full of admiration, stare down at you while a pointer finger gently trails up and down the side of your face. A whimper comes at the sudden contact and you instinctively start to stretch your legs and arms as you begin to wake up. You yawn and rub at your eyes with the back of your hand, hoping to deter the probing fingers in the process. The older woman coos at the display before her and waits with bated breath for you to open your eyes and meet your new future.

“Hi, little one,” comes a soft voice from above, startling you.

The speaker sounds familiar and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter; willing this to be only just a dream. If true, the voice belongs to a friend you made during your time with S.H.I.E.L.D. and someone whose obsessions had driven you apart. Natasha introduced the two of you and, for a short period, you became very close. Over time, however, what appeared to be friendly concern and affection morphed into possessiveness and irrational behavior. Despite your attempts to talk with her and satiate any fears she may have, the efforts proved futile and caused you to break away completely for your own sanity.

“Oh,” the woman says with a laugh as you jump and flinch, “did Mommy scare you?”

The surprise from the use of the title makes you open your eyes suddenly and blink rapidly in an attempt to adjust to the light around you. The earlier touch returns for a moment and the blurriness of your vision finally dissipates enough to make out the smiling face above you. 

Wanda.

“Hi my tiny girl. You don’t have to be afraid. Mommy’s here now.”

Her words are so sweet that you almost feel safe for the briefest moment despite the history between you; and the confusion of her unexpected arrival. As you look more intently, studying her expression, you see the same look of infatuation that drove you away months prior. Only when you widen the scope of your focus does the situation become even more alarming.

The proportions between you are all off. Although she had always been taller than you by a few inches, from your current vantage point, the difference had apparently increased by feet. The finger stroking your face is attached to a hand big enough to cup your entire head easily. You grip the fabric beneath you in each fist and twist your body away from the prying fingers to glance behind you. A dresser sits a few feet away from the bed you find yourself on and appears like a skyscraper from your vantage point.

Sensing your growing distress, the older woman leans closer to offer soothing affirmation.

“You’re okay, malyshka. You’re home now.”

—

“I don’t want any,” you say, doing your best to fight back tears.

The past several weeks have been spent with Wanda methodically stripping away any of your independence and replacing that freedom with complete reliance upon her. The combination of her gigantic size and the cabin she built to accommodate that made doing most anything for yourself now relatively impossible. At this point, the only choices left in your life appeared to be compliance with her wishes or disobedience with subsequent punishment.

“Mommy knows you don’t want any juice, sweetheart. But you need to drink some even still and make sure you’re getting enough fluids.”

You shake your head defiantly and look down at your feet. The seemingly insignificant act of choosing whether or not to drink some apple juice was being stripped away from you before your very eyes. Despite your best efforts, as the reality of the situation sets in, you feel the building tears overflow and spill down your cheeks.

Wanda sighs when she realizes that you have started to cry and walks over to grab something from the cabinet across the room. You hate how you feel slightly panicked as she walks away and leaves you feeling practically all alone in the enormous kitchen. Aside from your sniffling and hiccuping, only the sound of some light shuffling and liquid sloshing can be heard in the otherwise quiet room.

Even when the older woman returns to stand in front of you once again, you never raise your head to look up at her lest she detect any sense of relief. The feeling would be only in passing, however, as punishment would likely be next on your agenda for the day. You were not looking forward to having to spend some time with your nose in the corner or participating in any other demeaning ordeal she had planned.

“Mommy got your special cup, milaya.”

In reality, there was nothing particularly special about the red sippy cup. The only reason the drinkware could even be considered notable was that, unlike most everything else in the home, the size was proportionate to you rather than to Wanda. You were able to hold the handles and drink unassisted instead of having to rely on help as was the norm: and the requirement. To say that you did not like the sippy cup and the minimal independence that came with it, no matter how infantile, would be a lie.

“Cup?” you say warily, unsure if she was simply lulling you into a false sense of security.

“Yes, baby. Do you want some juice from your special cup? Mommy needs you to drink something.”

You mull over your options momentarily and begrudgingly decide to accept the juice and hopefully avoid any repercussions. Rather than verbally concede, you simply held both hands upward and made grabbing motions toward the cup. Wanda smirked in victory at having you give in to her demands regardless of the slight work-around. While she took no issue with punishing you, a small adjustment was nothing as, in the end, you would always do as you were told.

“Thank you, Mommy,” you say in a barely audible voice as she hands you the drink.

Wanda did her best to gently wipe at the tears on your face with her thumb and hummed in approval as you brought your special sippy to your lips.

—

“Who’s that?”

Wanda tenses up instantly at your question. She never received visitors and only rarely would even a passerby be seen at a distance traveling through the countryside. Thinking that perhaps someone had finally come to disrupt her peace, she prepared herself for the worst and approached the front door.

“A reindeer,” she says flatly when her eyes finally meet the apparent “visitor” you were referring to. “We say ‘what’ instead of ‘who’ for animals, Y/N,” she chides gently.

You frown at her correction.

“Why? Animals are like people because they have a personality too.”

The giantess has no rebuttal for your point and instead simply nods in acceptance of your words.

“I suppose you’re right, my thoughtful little girl.”

—

You had fallen off the bed in the middle of the night thanks to your unfortunate habit of thrashing during a nightmare. The trip to the ground felt like falling out of a second story window and the moment of impact made you cry out in fear and pain.

The sound of your cries woke Wanda instantly and she frantically began to rifle through the crumpled sheets in search of you.

“Mommy!” you screamed out unabashedly when she did not come to your aide immediately.

Even over your cries you could hear her flailing about before finally stumbling out of bed. The pain in your head began throbbing and you pulled at your hair in frustration. She finally rounded the corner of the bed after what felt like an eternity and gasped at how pitiful you looked wailing on the floor. Not wasting another second, she carefully lifted you up, making sure to support your head, and sat back down on the bed with you cradled protectively in her arms.

“My poor little girl. Mommy is so sorry, malyshka,” she says and accentuates her point with a kiss to your forehead.

She continues to press more kisses onto your tear-stained cheeks before gently placing you back onto the bed with the intention of looking over you for any severe injuries. The moment she broke contact, the volume of your cries increased dramatically and you grabbed frantically at her hands until she quickly scooped you up again.

“You’re okay, baby. You’re okay. Mommy’s here.”

Being held once again, you are more than content to cry out all of your pain and frustration. Wanda only bounces you gently and whispers comforting words as you slowly stop crying and begin to wear yourself out. The way you paw at your eyes and squirm tells her everything you refuse to say.

“Someone's ready to go night night, I think,” she says with a small smile.

You whine in response, but this time do not fight as she lowers you back onto the bed. An array of pillows are propped around you and she adjusts your position to best be supported by them as you sleep.

“Here’s your blanket, milaya,” she coos and begins to tuck the edges in.

Wanda briefly continues her fussing before finally appearing satisfied and laying down beside you. She reaches out and rests her hand on your torso, feeling your chest rise up and down with each breath.

“Mommy’s right here. You’re okay.”

You feel comforted by the weight of her hand and wiggle into the cozy cocoon she has made for you before finally drifting off to sleep once again. 

—

The sun feels good on your skin and you close your eyes to look up and soak in the rays.

Wanda was busy preparing your lunch and did not notice as you snuck out to get a better look at the herd of reindeer grazing behind the cabin. Although going out unsupervised was against the rules, you intended to be gone only a short while. You reasoned your escapade would be fine if you did not venture far from the home and kept your distance from the animals.

The wind blows gently across the field of wildflowers and you sit in silence; content to enjoy the feeling of being outside and alone for the first time in what feels like forever. You watch as the reindeer walk lazily about and pick at the grass or stop to mutual groom. Enjoying the serenity, you chance lying down after a bit and closing your eyes; only to fall asleep before you even realize how tired you feel.

You had no idea how long you had been sleeping. In reality, you would have likely continued to do so had the reindeer not become agitated and woken you. Some raised their heads and shook their antlers while more bellowed out and stomped at the ground with their hooves.

No sooner had you come to and picked up on their anxiety did a loud crash sound from the cabin. The commotion seemed to continue for several minutes and you knew that Wanda was enraged; entirely due to your absence, no less.

Instead of running back to meet the chaos head on, your fear of the unknown causes you to freeze in place. You simply stay put and remain seated on the ground as you nervously pick some of the flowers closest to you. At any moment Wanda would come outside, find you, and punish you for disobeying her.

The sound of a small explosion erupted and you tensed as your mind raced with thoughts of what exactly could have been destroyed. Your legs twitch and you contemplate running back to, at the very least, attempt to put an end to the destruction.

Wanda yells out your name with such force that the reindeer spook and begin to run off. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, clutching the flowers you picked tightly to your chest. As thundering footsteps begin to approach, you only hope your staying put will somehow appease some of her anger.

Eventually, the ground stops shaking around you, the temperature grows colder, and the light becomes less glaring. You know that Wanda has finally found you. For a moment you do not dare to look up, but after mustering some courage, you hold the flowers up weakly.

“Hi Mommy,” you say sadly. “I’m sorry I made you destroy the house.”

Wanda’s cold glare falters slightly at your words. She recovers quickly, however, and crosses her arms over her chest to give you a more pointed glare.

“Are little girls supposed to leave the house without Mommy?”

“No,” you say quietly, dropping your arms and the bouquet down into your lap.

“Then why did you disobey me? You could be hurt out here. Anyone could come along and take you away.”

You anxiously move your hands to pick at the grass around you and try to come up with an appropriate explanation. Finding only one, with a resigned sigh, you simply tell the truth.

“I wanted to pick you some flowers and look at the reindeer.”

With that, Wanda’s remaining anger seems to dissipate as she drops down to sit next to you. She rubs at her temples for a moment before looking down at you with a gaze mimicking the sadness you displayed moments prior. You bite your lip in contemplation before taking a chance to go ahead and sit on her lap. Holding the flowers up once again, this time she gives a small smile and accepts the tiny bouquet.

“The flowers are beautiful. Thank you.”

She puts a hand up to signal her intention to continue just as you are about to make another point.

“But, Mommy makes rules to keep you safe, little one. You are going to be punished for breaking those rules. No arguments.”

You simply nod solemnly in acceptance.

—

“Why are you so big, Mommy?”

Wanda snorts slightly at the question before tossing you a playful smirk. She puts her book down and watches as you try and collect your crayons to put back into the box.

“I’m surprised you took so long to ask that, malyshka. That would have been one of Mommy’s first questions and you’ve been here several months.”

Several months.

The time seems longer, or maybe shorter, than you even realized. You had long ago lost count of the days you spent with Wanda despite the fairly consistent routine she created for you. 

She seemed to be waiting for an answer to her unspoken question but you simply gave a noncommittal shrug. Of course you had wondered from the very beginning what led to the transformation, but never did you think the timing appropriate to ask the burning question.

“Do you not like Mommy like this?” she asked with a mock pout.

Panic flashes in your eyes briefly and you stand up from your crafts to run over and grab onto her pant leg. You shake your head vigorously and only stop when you feel her start to gently pat your head.

“No! I like Mommy lots.”

She chuckles at your puppy dog eyes and brushes some flyaway hairs down. You continue to stare up at her expectantly until she finally concedes to your earlier question.

“Mommy has been doing a big book project since even before you came home. A very important one that’s taught Mommy a lot of useful information about how to grow and manage the power within her. So much energy needs to be kept in a larger, more perfect vessel.”

For a moment you bite your tongue and think critically about her words and their possible implications. Just as quickly, however, with the swarm of information, you lose interest and begin playing with the hem of her shirt.

“Okay, Mommy.”

Wanda laughs and bends forward to pull you up onto her lap. Not wanting to sit, you kick your legs out until she allows you to stand on her thigh and hold her hands for support.

“That’s a lot of big information for such a tiny baby, isn’t it?”

You nod your head, only half-listening as her necklaces catch your attention. With a grunt you lean forward and try to detach one of your hands to pull at the chains. She obliges after a moment and watches as you try and grab a hold of the pendant.

—

“Mommy? Do you love me?”

Wanda looks over at you with surprise. The two of you had been sitting in comfortable silence on the bed when you asked the question with no forewarning.

“Of course. Mommy has always loved you,” she replies with confidence despite being slightly caught off-guard.

You let her response hang in the air as you meditate on her words.

“Even when we met?”

She nods and watches as your demeanor shifts to be more unsure. You look pensive but give little away as to what is really going on in your mind.

“Do you love Mommy?”

Wanda waits anxiously as you take time to choose your words carefully. After a few moments, you seem to decide as you roll over to face her.

“Uh-huh,” you say slowly, watching as her face reaches an indiscernible expression. “Mommy always takes care of me.”

She softens as you explain what she has repeatedly told you from the very beginning. Her knuckles brush across your cheeks and you reach up to capture her hand with both of your own.

“Love you,” you whisper into her palm.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Pls do a wanda x reader where instead of her falling for vision, it was r and Westview and all was with r then at the end of MoM, America instead of portalling to the universe with the other wanda and the kids, she portals to a universe where r and wanda we're together but wanda died, so when wanda walks though the portal and r sees wanda, they're kinda reunited ig? Sorry if this was long or complicated lmao I just love this woman sm

I’m on it!!! I will do this justice cuz MoM has only made me love Wanda even more.

A/n: these two songs inspired me for this fic and I will not elaborate on how they do but they just do.

Wanda wanted you back. She wanted you back so badly she created the Westview hex for you! Her magic temporarily gave you back to her. She was finally at peace with herself when she got to awoke to your slumbering face besides hers within the confines of your shared bed; Your warmth comforted Wanda even in her most sleepless of nights and she could never forget the taste of the spiced lavender tea you’d always have before bed upon your tongue nor the sweet popcorn upon your lips whenever you kissed during a movie night after tucking Tommy and Billy into their safe, warm beds. Even now as she hunted down both Stephen and America Chavez she could still vaguely taste you upon her variants lips as you bid each other sweet dreams.

In another life Wanda got to kiss you, hold you, protect you, raise kids with you. All the while she was left to suffer on the outside, looking in through the window into a life that could’ve been hers had things gone a little differently. Happiness seemed to avoid her whenever it could and whenever she did experience true happiness it was only temporary and would ultimately end in misery and death. The Darkhold had corrupted her beyond reasoning, it had sent her on this excruciating journey to track down America Chavez, a kid with a ability she wanted, no, needed to unlock the door that hide you from her. Praying on her losses to its benefits as it saw fit as the prolonged usage of dark magic had drained more then its fair share of her life force. It almost took away her sanity, her humanity and made her become delusional to an extent that the grief and suffering Wanda originally felt after being forced to end your life for the greater good only served as the catalyst of her impending descent.

Why did Wanda have to sacrifice her happiness, the love of her life so everyone else could keep theirs? It wasn’t fair. When was it her time to be happy, genuinely happy? Why did she have to be the one to sacrifice everything and to suffer immensely afterwards on her own?! Why wasn’t she aloud to be selfish for once without the accusations of villainy being placed unfairly upon her shoulders?! This is what she kept telling herself as she tried to reach you across the multiverse through any and every means within her disposal in order to retain her life with you and her children once more. Yet a setback came in the form of the Darkhold being destroyed by some determined sorcerer she once thought was killed in the attack of Karmar-Taj whom died shortly afterwards driving a knife through the dammed book; leaving Wanda desperately scrambling for an alternative solution to her issue; even going so far as to torture Wong by hurting other half-dead sorcerers for him to spill that the Darkhold had only been a mere copy of the actual transcriptions that laid embedded within the stone walls of Wundagore mountain.

Wanda, at this point, was willing to do anything and everything in her power to get what she was rightfully deserved, no matter who she had to carelessly hurt in the process; sure she should’ve been at least happy that in other realities she got her happy ending with you, Billy and Tommy. Yet it wasn’t enough for Wanda, she wanted to be the Wanda that got the happy ending even if it meant stealing you away from another Wanda. She couldn’t help the feeling of jealously, the feeling of bitterness within her soul whenever she saw a multitude of her variants getting to sleep beside you every night and be embraced and embracing your sugar and marshmallow scented warmth lovingly through her chaos magic. Wanda knew that if you were in her position you would just just as, if not more, ruthless and aggressive in your endeavours in reaching her to get closure. She knew it, she just knew you would, her soul knew you would for she believed your souls were crafted by the same hands and we’re sent to find one another no matter where you were in the multiverse. Your souls and magic were one in the same to Wanda that she firmly believed that you were soulmates, even in your past lives and that you were meant for each other no matter what because at the end of the day you were made to be hers and she was made to be yours. Forever.

So once you died the magical link that came into full effect as a byproduct of spending every waking moment and being sent on several missions paired together was painfully severed, Wanda felt as though she died right then and there beside you and ever since the Scarlet Which had taken her place. When America Chavez told Wanda that even though she wasn’t going to allow her to take her power, as an alternative she decided to take her to what she wanted instead; Wanda only scoffed in disbelief, not wanting to give her the benefit of the doubt in case it was some form of trick to get her to become complacent that when she was about to do the unthinkable as a result of being pushed to the edge one to many times, the star shaped portal before her lead into a familiar layout within a familiar house. The picture frames where littered across the walls, the sofa was protected behind the coffee table that was littered with tissue as a person who sat upon it was cradling a picture frame against their chest as they cried into the tissue tightly gripped in their hand. Unaware of the starshaped portal and the two people standing within it looking at you solemnly.

Wanda soon realised that this person was in fact you and audibly gasped, her hand immediately letting go of America Chavez’s neck as she made her way into the living room to sit across from you. Watching with a broken heart as you cried, collapsing to your knees; it perfectly paralleled how she was like when she found that you had bought a plot of land within Westview just for her and you to grow old in with the abbreviation of a scarlet heart when her powers took over from the emotional distraught that threatened to drown her over and over again. You were hurting and badly from how tightly you grasped the picture frame. “Wanda,” your meek voice croaked, broken, “why’d you leave you. You said we’d be together forever. I MADE WESTVIEW FOR US AND YET YOU STILL LEAVE ME!” Flares of (f/c) magic emitted from your form, altering the house into one of a gothic structure to represent you inner most thoughts and feelings before it glitched back to the sitcom-esque home from before. “Why were you the one to die, it’s unfair my beloved. All I wanted was to be with you until our last breath and yet fate,” you said the word with such venom that Wanda could feel the fear others felt when faced on the receiving end of her wrath, “took you away from me unfairly and yet everyone else got to keep those they love. WHY ME?! WHY AM I LEFT TO SUFFER A BROKEN HEART IN YOUR ABSENCE?! Huh….why me….I didn’t do nothing wrong..” Wanda had heard enough as tears brimmed her eyes and her soul pained in tandem with your own as she reached across the coffee table to catch a tear falling from your cheek before holding it so you were forced to look into her eyes.

You gasped upon looking at her, dropping the picture frame in the process that thankfully it landed with a thud instead of the sound of glass smashing, “Wanda?” You scrambled to your feet as you felt her other hand reach to your other cheek, her thumbs rubbing against your skin. Your eyes flicker towards America Chavez who only looked at your sympathetically before closing the star shaped portal behind her, leaving you and this woman who shared the same likeness to your late wife within your house dressed like a witch. “I’m not your Wanda.” She admitted sadly as she watched your eyes flicker across her features as though you had materialised her through thought, “I’m aware,” you said after a beat of silence, “yet I don’t have the heart to send you back to your reality, your still my Wanda no matter what because you always said that our souls were made by the same hands; Made to find one another in any and very lifetime we are born. I was made to follow you and you were made to follow me, through heartbreak and the good times. We’re made for each other.” Wanda felt the tears stream down her face at your words as she leaned into the hands that came in contact with her cheeks to wipe away her tears with gentle touches as though you’d break her.

“Fate hasn’t been the kindest to you has it?” You asked as Wanda only collapsed into your arms where she could smell your marshmallow and sugar scent clinging to your skin, “I lost you and everything I’ve done up until now has all been for you.” Wanda admitted as she buried her face deeper into your neck as she felt you let out a sigh of relief, “the countless people I’ve killed to get to you had been wasteful but if it meant I get to be in your arms as I am now I’d kill countless more for you my love.” You didn’t care what this Wanda has done in her reality, you should but you didn’t have the heart to cast her away when fate had taken pity on you and given you a Wanda just as broken as you were at your loss. “I don’t care what you did Wanda, fate has finally given me what I wanted and I have no plans in letting you go back there without me, multiverse be dammed by our actions for I’d rather ruin the multiverse with you then be cursed to live without you ever again.” Wanda didn’t waste any time in kissing you and upon your tongue she could taste the spiced lavender tea and upon your plush lips she could taste the sweetness of popcorn. She finally got what she always wanted. A happy ending.

[abimess]

"I protect her from everything. As long as nothing can protect her from me." (fluff or angst you choose but can you pretty please make it dark reader)

This was my first attempt in dark characters and it was... Something else.... Hope you like it, anon 😬

"I protect her from everything. As long as nothing can protect her from me." Your eyes are as sick as your lines, the veins pulsing; and Natasha finds herself completely frozen in place, the ropes squeezing her wrists and legs. "I can't let you keep putting nonsenses into my girlfriend's mind."

"I didn't tell her anything that wasn't true." The redhead hits back through clenched teeth, pulling at the ropes in a failed attempt to break free, her head throbbing where you had hit it hours before. "She's not yours, Y/n. Wanda is not a property-"

"You're wrong." You turn away, walking with your back to her toward a small table near where Natasha's chair is. Still, your irritation was noticeable in your voice. "She is mine. The same way I'm hers. And I won't let anything or anyone keep us apart." 

"She wouldn't even be with you if Jarvis hadn't died, Y/n, don't be ridiculous." Despite the not at all fortunate situation the redhead finds herself in, Natasha can't control her own anger, wanting to try to hurt you back somehow.

"I know that." Your voice is quiet instead, and and the redhead's eyebrows remain frowned in confusion for just one more second before her eyes widen with realization, her expression terrified. "It was you..."

"I just did what was best for her." You give your confirmation and the redhead feels all the air being knocked out of her lungs. 

"You're a psychopath!"

"I'm in love!"

Natasha had no idea someone could look so devoid of sanity, but there you were. Eyes wide-open, face twitching. And in your hand, a hunting knife.

"This is it, then? You're going to kill me?" The redhead tries to hide her tears but to no avail, her heart about to jump out of her mouth in fright. You, on the other hand, raise the deadly item calmly. "I didn't want to... But, you see, I have no choice."

"Yes, you do. You can let me go. I-I won't tell anyone." She promises in a trembling, pleading voice, but you merely force a smile. "We both know this isn't true, huh?" You reason, and for the first time Natasha is sure there's no way out, breaking into a sob. 

"I'm sorry, Natasha. I promise to make the pain go away soon." You assure, even though she knows it isn't true. And, when you take a step toward her, she closes her eyes. 

[deathxwalkerxx]

I’ll See You Again

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, talks of dying. Very crappy letters. 

Summary: You were in love once, and then the love of your life disappears. Will you see her again, or is it too late? 

A/N: @mrsrushman @bliam-fortuna @neverylee Idk if you guys still wanna be tagged but let me know!! Also this a little bit longer, I apologize.

part 4

Day 1

Hey, curls. So you weren’t in school today. Maybe it’s my fault that I don’t know where you live. I probably should have asked where you lived, or even offered to come to your place rather than us always going to mine. This clearly makes me a bad girlfriend. I do hope you’re okay though and I missed you in class. You didn’t miss much. Lunch was pretty much the same, but I didn’t have you there with me, to chill with and make fun of the bullies that seemed to be growing each day. It’s weird how bullies can make friends, don’t you think? Why couldn’t they bully each other? Wimps are what they are right? I’m not used to writing letters, and I don’t know where to send this one from. Hopefully though you come back tomorrow and I can give it to you! Be cute, if we wrote each other letters right? 

Love you.

See you tomorrow, 

Yours always, Y/N.

Day 15

Hey you. So. Where are you, Curls? It’s been fifteen days since I’ve last seen you. No one knows where you are, no one is telling me anything! You can’t have just vanished right? I keep checking the news thinking maybe someone has taken you, but after seeing what you did with father, I don’t think anyone could just take you off the street. So what happened? I don’t even know why I’m asking in these letters that I’ve written, they’re just being placed in a box hoping that when I do see you next, you could read them and answer the question that I have asked! I miss you, Nat. I’m starting to think going to school is just me hoping I’d see you outside the gates where you usually wait for me to show up. I’m starting to forget what you looked like. We should have totally taken pictures together. So I have at least something to remember that you were here. 

Maybe tomorrow I’ll see you.

Love you always.

Yours forever, Y/N.

Day 30

Hey. So. I’m not where I used to live. I left my father, and I think you should be proud of me for that. If you even knew about it of course. I’m just writing these letters now I guess to keep my own sanity. I miss you, Natasha. I don’t know what happened to you, and I keep having nightmares of something bad happening to you. Why haven’t you tried to get a hold of me? To let me know that you’re okay? We have our own secret spots you know? I’m tired, so I’ll write you a letter another time. Take care of yourself. Bye.

Love you.

Day 55

It’s our anniversary. 

Natasha couldn’t get through all of your letters. As much as Wanda wanted her to, she just couldn’t. She could see the pen was wobbly as you continued to write them, could see that you barely said anything anymore in the letters. Usually it was just a ‘hi’ or you just wrote out ‘i love you’ but that was it. You told her that you got a job in one of them, telling her how much you hated it, people groping you as you walked past them. You talked about how cold your place was, and that you thought Natasha would hate it, and would try to put some color in it. Never once did you mention your illness in these letters. You wouldn’t even let her know in the letters? Natasha’s eyes met Wanda’s, as she was sitting across from her, reading the letters that Natasha had finished with. “Why did you want me to read these? It doesn’t give me anything.” Natasha says and Wanda was sighing, before bringing the box closer to her, so she could go through the letters and pull one out, to hand over to Natasha. 

“If you don’t want to read all of them then fine. But read this one. And then tell me you still want to help her.” Wanda says which has Natasha frowning. Why wouldn’t she want to help you? What could you possibly have written that would have her not wanting to continue to save you? Her hands weren’t shaky as she took the letter from Wanda, though on the inside she was definitely shaking. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she opened up the letter. This one didn’t even have a date on it.

Dear Natasha.

Hey you. I know now that these letters aren’t getting to you, but on the off chance that maybe one day they will find you, or perhaps we find each other, I need to say a few things. Don’t save me, Natasha. I know you’d want to, and I understand where you’re coming from. I’d want to do everything in my power to save you. But if you asked me not to, if you were completely done with your life and just wanted to move on. Then I’d accept it. I’d hate it but I’d accept it. I’m done, Curls. I can’t. I can’t keep going like this. I may never see you again, and I feel like if I did get the chance to see you… I know what the ending is going to be like. Even if you could save me. At the end of the day, I’d just die on you anyway. 

You have to let me go, Natasha. This is my wish. Please. 

Natasha once she finished reading that letter, she placed it on the table and shook her head. You didn’t even know if you’d see her again. How could you possibly ask this of her? Why would you ask this of her? How is this fair on Natasha? Didn’t she deserve to try and save you? To have the future you had talked about with her moments before? Didn’t you both deserve a chance? “She’s scared, Nat.” Wanda whispers, which has emerald hue snapping to the other redhead. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head. “I get that she’s scared. She’s dying, she has every right to be scared.” Natasha says, and it was Wanda’s turn to shake her head while she leaned on the table, a hand reaching to take Natasha’s in hers. “She’s not scared now. She’s scared for the future. If she survives through this, she’s going to wonder when the next time is coming. To Y/N. She thinks of this as her final destination. And if you find a way to save her, and find a loop. She’s going to think for the rest of her life that death is just now waiting around the corner.” Wanda explains to the ex assassin, hoping she would understand.

“I don’t care. I’d protect her from it, Wanda. I get that she’s been going through this by herself, but I’m here now, and I’m not about to let her die, or go through this alone.” Natasha says, and perhaps she should let you go, if that’s what you want, but Natasha didn’t think that’s what you really wanted. You wanted it now, because you are tired, and you just want this to end, but there was no way that she would let this end, not while she was here. She stood now, and Wanda watched her with a crease between her brow. She couldn’t figure out what she was doing, but she moved with Natasha, watching her going into the medbay where Bruce and Cho were. “I need your help.” Natasha says to the both of them, as she sat down on one of the beds looking at the both of them.

“Nat.” Wanda says, only to close her mouth when Natasha held up her hand, silencing her. Wanda knew not to get in the way when Natasha was on a mission. She was scary without a mission, she was terrifying with one. “Are you hurt?” Bruce asks Natasha who shook her head. “I have a friend, who’s sick, who’s dying. And I need your help to make sure that doesn’t happen.” She says as her eyes flick between Bruce and Cho, hoping they were taking this seriously. “What’s their condition?” Bruce asks, and Wanda watches as Natasha tenses at the question. She knew this was hard on the ex assassin, but she wasn’t sure if she should be doing this without at least talking to you first, considering Wanda knew your thoughts on this. “Her heart is failing her.” Natasha says to them, her eyes still flickering between the two. “She’ll have to go on a waiting list for a new heart.” Cho says before Natasha was shaking her head. “She doesn’t have a lot of time. Look I came to the both of you, because I know you’re the smartest doctors I know. So I’m sure you could come up with something for her. She’s here in the compound. So if you’d want to run some tests, or anything, I’ll go get her.”

Wanda heard these words and she couldn’t help but feel the anger slowly boiling in her veins. Natasha just offered you up as a test subject without even thinking about what you might want. She watches as Natasha leaves the medbay, and she follows suit, taking Natasha by the elbow. She leads her into Natasha’s room, because she also wanted to make sure you were okay. “You just offered Y/N up like she’s some sort of lab rat.” Wanda hisses under her breath, not wanting to wake you up. “It’s for her own good, Wanda. I know that she wants to do this her way, but I’m not going to let her go. I can’t let her go. She’s not the only one who lost someone that day, she’s not the only one who wants someone.” Natasha whispers, her voice cracking as much as she didn’t want it to, but she couldn’t help it.

“Don’t you think you should talk to her first? Before making these types of decisions for her? She has a right to put her say in this.” Wanda whispers, trying to get some sense into Natasha. “She made her right very clear, and it goes against what I’m trying to do for her.” Natasha whispers, before both of them tense up when a shaky groan escapes your lips. “I can’t hear what you’re saying, but I can hear you saying something.” You mumble out to the both of them, which had them walk closer to Natasha’s bed. “Natasha has decided to make you a lab rat.” Wanda says, not even thinking about sugar coating it. To her you had a right to know what Natasha was doing.

“A lab rat for what?” You ask as you slowly try to wake yourself up. You have a feeling you were way too tired to have this conversation right now. “To help you. I talked to Cho and Bruce to see if there is any way that I can help you get better.” Natasha says softly, as her hand pushes some of your hair off your face. “Why? I don’t. I’ve come to terms with what is happening with me, Natasha. I’ve done everything I’ve wanted to do in my life. I have nothing else.” You say, as you watch Natasha shaking her head, you look to Wanda, asking in your mind if she could give you and Natasha a moment. You watch as she nods her head before leaving the room and then your attention goes back to Natasha.

“No. No. You don’t get to want to see me, and say that you’ve done everything in your life. When we haven’t even….” Her words trail off, and you were quick to sit up and pull her into your arms. “I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was for you to go through this with me, Natasha. I want to be here with you, I do. But I’ve accepted that I can’t. I don’t want you to get your hopes up, Curls. What happens if they can’t help me?” You ask her as your hand runs through her hair and then down her back. “I have to try. Can’t you just let me do that? Can’t you just help me try?” She whispers into your neck, breathing you in deeply. Your heart broke hearing her words, your breathing coming out shaky.

“I could never say no to you.” You whisper softly, your lips pressing to her hair, and you take a deep breath in, making you relax in her arms. “So you’ll do it? You’ll let them?” She asks, as she pulls back from you, though her arms still stay around you, doing her best to help you stay up right. “Yes. For you I’ll let them try.” You whisper, and your eyes close when you felt her lips on your forehead. “They can do the tests here, if you don’t like medbays.” She murmurs against your skin making you shiver and hold onto her tighter. “As long as you’re with me, I think I’ll be okay. When do they want to start?” You ask her, before Bruce was walking into the room now, making you both pull apart from each other.  “Now would be a good start.”