#steve rogers x witch!reader

[cece693]

THOSE 4 TERRIFYING WORDS

pairing: steve rogers x male reader synopsis: 'We need to talk' is a universal line delivered when one wants to break up. Everyone knew this, even Steve (a man from the 40s). Not wanting to lose the one person he loves, Steve is determined to show you why that's a bad idea.

You’d only said four ordinary words—“we need to talk”—but the moment they left your mouth, Steve Rogers went sheet-white, like you’d just handed him divorce papers wrapped in vibranium foil. You don’t notice the storm gathering behind his eyes—you’re already stepping into the corridor—but Steve hears the click of the latch and decides two things simultaneously:

You won’t have time to second-guess the relationship if he eliminates every reason you could possibly be unhappy.

He absolutely will not let you finish a sentence that starts with “we need to talk.”

He tugs on a Henley you once said makes his shoulders look “bite-worthy,” slicks his hair into a movie-poster wave, and cooks you dinner. Not just any dinner—lasagna with homemade pasta sheets, because apparently pasta rollers are what Amazon Prime is for when you’re catastrophizing at 3 p.m.

You walk in still dusted with rooftop grit, and the smell of basil hits you first. Then Steve appears holding a casserole dish like it’s Mjölnir, blue eyes shining with equal parts hope and mortal terror. “Uh… hi?” you say, eyebrow cocked.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.” He kisses your cheek, voice syrup-sweet. “Take a hot shower, get comfy. Everything’s taken care of.”

You blink. “We—”

“Later.” He flashes a smile so earnest it almost creaks. “Want you relaxed before we…talk.”

The evening gets even weirder.

Steve insists you sit while he serves you a borderline-Michelin meal, refusing to let you lift a finger. He even tells FRIDAY to dim the lights to a “romantic yet conversation-friendly” 30 percent. When you reach for the Parmesan, he’s already there, grating like a man possessed.

After dessert (tiramisu, made from scratch, obviously), he shepherds you to the couch and gently sets your legs over his lap. The television flicks on: your favorite comfort show. He pretends not to notice the way you stare at him as though he’s sprouted antlers.

Twenty minutes later he turns off the TV, swallows hard, and speaks fast—as if the words are grenades he can’t afford to drop.

“I know I mess up sometimes. But if you ever feel unfulfilled”—he gestures vaguely southward, blush blooming—“I’m open to newer arrangements.” He forces his gaze up to yours, all courage and heartbreak. “If you wanted to invite someone else in, or just explore without me, we'll do it.”

Silence.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Steve, what—”

“I can be whatever you need,” he barrels on. “If you want to call the shots in bed—” (You arch a brow; he forges ahead) “—I’m happy to let you lead. In fact, I like it. Thought maybe you didn’t know that.”

Oh. Oh. The puzzle pieces click together: extraordinary dinner, foot rub, open-relationship clause, sudden enthusiasm for being your prettiest bottom. All because you said we need to talk.

A laugh—half love, half exasperation—bubbles out of you. Steve’s face falls; he thinks you’re laughing at him.

“Steve, sweetheart, no.” You cup his cheek. “I’m laughing at myself for not realizing how that sentence hit your 1940s anxiety circuits.” You press a kiss to his forehead. “I’m not dumping you. I wouldn't even dream of doing so.”

He blinks. “You’re not?”

“I just wanted to talk about adopting Lucky from Clint—you know, the pizza dog? We need a proper plan before we bring home a Labrador with a carb addiction.”

Beat. Steve’s mouth opens, closes, opens again. A laugh bursts from him, bright and shaky, and he folds forward till his forehead rests against your sternum.

“Lord, I’m an idiot.”

“My big, handsome idiot,” you correct, threading fingers through his hair. You maneuver him so he’s sitting between your thighs, broad shoulders bracketed by yours—a posture that says I’ve got you. Fingers slide under his chin, tilting his face up.

“Listen carefully, Rogers. I’m satisfied. I’m crazy about you—your dad-joke smile, your post-mission baby-blue hoodies, the way you still thank café baristas like they just saved the world.” Your thumb strokes his lower lip. “And yeah, I like being in charge sometimes. But I never doubted that you’d let me.”

His cheeks go rosy. “It’s not that I let you—”

“I know.” Your grin turns wicked. “You love it.”

He shivers. “Maybe a little bit.”

“There’s the honesty I wanted.” You lean down, kiss him slow, claiming. His lips part on a soft gasp, surrendering with the effortless grace of a man who could flip a truck but would rather melt under your touch. When you break for air, he’s gazing up like you hung the moon.

“So,” you whisper near his ear, “about Lucky: do you accept dog-dad duty?”

He nods emphatically. “I’ll sew him a shield-shaped collar.”

“Overachiever,” you tease. “Now, since you’ve already cooked and declared me king of the bedroom—”

“Forever,” he murmurs.

“—I think it’s time to show you how much your efforts are appreciated. Upstairs. March.”

His breathing stutters; then the soldier surfaces just long enough to obey a direct order. He stands, but you snag his belt loop, tug him back for a final reminder. “Next time I say we need to talk, assume I mean something mundane and ask before spiraling, okay?”

“Yes, sir.” His answering smile holds relief, devotion, and a glint of anticipation.

[romanoffshouse]

Steve: Why is Y/N crying on the floor?

Wanda: They're drunk

Steve: And?

Wanda: They saw a picture of Natasha's partner.

Steve: But they're Natasha's partner.

Wanda: Yeah, I know.

[thenatashamaximoff]

Something Wicked

Summary: After the dark entity known as the Scarlet Witch takes control of Wanda Maximoff, she unexpectedly breaks up with you as a twisted reward for saving her. The pain of the breakup lingers for six long months as you try to cope and move on, finding solace in your own pursuits. However, just as you begin to find your footing again, you are revisited by old friends as they request your aid when the Scarlet Witch resurfaces.

✎

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 3459

Heavy rain pummeled against the roof above you, but your attention was elsewhere. You marveled at the captivating beauty of your own veins, their emerald hue ensnaring your attention once more. The delicate skin on your forearm barely concealed the intricate network of verdant pathways pulsating just beneath the surface. It was a mesmerizing sight, an otherworldly shade of green that seemed to radiate with vitality. It was as if nature itself coursed through your very being, and you couldn’t help but be awestruck by the phenomenon as if you were seeing it for the first time again.

Your fingers wove through the thick fur of the small dog lying before you, a patient in need. Its shallow breaths and pained whimpers tugged at your heartstrings, yet the pain the animal was feeling caused a tightness to grip your muscles. As you touched the creature, you could feel its distress, intimately aware of every ounce of suffering it endured.

Drawing upon the energy within you, you channeled it toward the dog, willing healing and comfort to permeate its being. Gradually, its breathing steadied, the whimpers fading into silence. A surge of relief washed over you as the dog let out a joyous bark, springing to its feet on the metal examination table. A smile stretched across your features, mirroring the elation in the owner’s eyes as he stepped forward.

“Thank you,” he uttered, his voice laced with a mixture of gratitude and awe. His laughter mingled with relief, and he extended his hand for his furry companion to shower with affectionate licks. “That was incredible.” You drew in a low, shuddering breath, your arms trembling as you attempted to shake off the residual pain you had absorbed from the dog. As he embraced his pet, his fingers finding solace behind its ear, his gaze locked with yours, brimming with wonder. “I must admit, I was skeptical at first, thinking it was just another one of those scams. But witnessing your work… I’m glad I went with my gut.” He pressed his lips tenderly against the top of the dog’s head, a thin layer of tears glistening in his eyes as he inhaled deeply. With a determined nod, he raised his chin, composing himself. “I’ll see you around, doc.”

You chuckled softly, the sound laced with warmth and camaraderie. “Hopefully not too soon,” you replied, a gentle jest dancing in your words. A soft smile adorned your face as the owner departed, the room enveloped in a sense of profound gratitude and hope.

You lingered in the lobby, your gaze fixed on him as he hastily pushed open the glass door and scurried towards his car, seeking shelter from the relentless downpour. The heavy droplets cascaded from the sky, each one threatening to soak him to the bone. The urgency in his movements was palpable, his determination to avoid the drenching rain evident in every hurried step.

A jolt of thunder rattled the building, forcing you out of your stupor. You exhaled heavily as you approached the door. Through the rain-streaked surface, you peered out into the desolate parking lot as your last patient drove off into the night, your lips pressing together in a tight line. With a firm grip, you clasped the bottom of the OPEN sign, flipping it to CLOSE, while your other hand swiftly secured the deadbolt.

Standing there for a moment longer, you observed the heavy raindrops pummeling the pavement under the dim glow of the streetlights. A sense of foreboding weighed upon your shoulders, causing your gut to knot with unease. Determined to shake off the disquiet, you turned on your heels, ready to retreat back into the safety of your establishment.

But as you spun around, your heart leaped into your throat, freezing you in your tracks. A figure materialized in the doorway to your only examination room, shrouded in darkness. Steadying your voice, though your heart hammered against your ribs, you spoke with a measured tone, “Sorry, but we’re closed.” You moved to the side, taking refuge near the desk on your left. Your hand traced the inside of the counter, inching closer to what it sought. “You’re welcome to return tomorrow to make an appointment.”

A soft voice, laced with intrigue, cut through the tense air. “Or we can do it now.” The figure moved forward, stepping into the light, and relief washed over you as you met the familiar, piercing gaze of Natasha Romanoff. Releasing the handle of the concealed gun beneath your desk, you crossed your arms tightly over your chest. “Hey, Y/N. It’s been a while.”

“Nine months.” You shrugged nonchalantly, nodding subtly as you added, “Approaching ten soon.”

A faint smile tugged at Natasha’s lips as she gracefully approached, taking in the surroundings of your humble business. Her eyes wandered, absorbing every detail, as if memorizing the essence of your new life. “I imagined you doing a lot of things when you left,” she remarked, her voice tinged with a hint of astonishment. “Being a vet wasn’t one I anticipated.” Her gaze flickered back to you, her eyes meeting yours as you leaned against the desk. “Do you even have your license?” She arched an eyebrow teasingly, evoking a huff from you.

“What do you want, Natasha?”

Her lips curved into a more prominent yet gentle smile, but her eyes betrayed a hint of mischief. “What makes you think I want something?” she returned, feigning a wounded expression.

A trace of annoyance flickered across your face as you cleared your throat, not easily swayed by her act. “I haven’t heard from anybody on the team since I left,” you stated.

Natasha’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a more earnest expression. “I know,” she admitted, her voice carrying a touch of remorse. “We’ve all been… busy. But that doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten about you.”

A pang of vulnerability resonated within you, a mixture of yearning and the lingering sense of abandonment. You had made the difficult choice to walk away from the team, to forge a different path for yourself. Yet, a part of you had always hoped for a connection, a reassurance that your absence hadn’t rendered you completely forgotten.

“So why now?” you asked, your voice holding a hint of uncertainty. “Why reach out after all this time?”

She took a step closer, her gaze unwavering and earnest. As she poised herself to respond, a voice interjected before she could utter a word. “Because we need you, Y/N.” Startled, your eyes darted towards the source of the second voice, your attention suddenly drawn to another figure standing at the entrance of your examination room. Lost in the sight of Natasha, you had failed to notice the presence of a companion.

Your curiosity piqued, you shifted your focus towards the newly arrived figure, taking in their appearance and attempting to piece together the puzzle before you. Who was this unexpected partner accompanying Natasha, and what role did they play in this unfolding situation?

A scoff caught in your throat as Vision stepped into the room, his presence commanding and analytical. His unwavering gaze remained fixed upon you, intensifying the unease that simmered within. Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but release your disbelief. “You couldn’t have waited a few more seconds?” Natasha’s low question resonated in the room, its undercurrents of exasperation and frustration unmistakable.

“You were drawing it out,” Vision claimed, his tone devoid of emotion. “Time is of the essence, and we have little to spare.”

Your attention shifted, focusing your gaze squarely on Vision, a flicker of resentment igniting in your eyes. Your question, however, was directed towards Natasha, a mixture of confusion and disdain permeating your words. “Why is he here?”

The Russian’s response was steady, her voice tinged with a sense of understanding. “He insisted on coming,” she explained. “She’s back, Y/N.” It took a moment for the weight of her words to sink in, for the significance of their presence to fully register. Your gaze reluctantly shifted from Vision to meet hers, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach as the realization dawned upon you. “The Scarlet Witch has returned.”

A surge of sensations swirled within you, a maelstrom of recollections, regrets, and feelings. The return of the enigmatic and powerful being known as the Scarlet Witch held implications that stretched far beyond your current circumstances. It signified the revival of a chapter you had hoped to leave behind, a chapter that had left its mark upon your very soul.

As the gravity of the situation settled, a wave of emotions crashed over you, leaving you gasping for air. The resurgence of the past had brought forth a flood of unwelcomed memories and unresolved pain, and the mere thought of confronting it once again threatened to suffocate you. In that moment, you knew you couldn’t face it head-on with the Avengers.

You pushed past them, making your way to the hidden staircase around the corner. Their footsteps echoed behind you, their presence a constant reminder of the choices that lay before you. You remained silent, determined to retreat to the solace of your apartment, to gather your thoughts and find a momentary respite from the chaos unfolding.

Entering your kitchen, you could feel them looming behind you. Natasha’s voice cut through the air, her concern discernible. “Y/N, did you hear me?” Her gaze fixated on you as you retrieved a box from the freezer, allowing the door to swing shut. Her brows furrowed in confusion, Vision standing by her side. “Y/N-”

“I heard you,” you asserted, avoiding direct eye contact as your focus shifted to a frozen meal, the instructions becoming a temporary refuge. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”

Vision, his voice filled with urgency, interjected, “Wanda is in danger. How can you let her suffer-”

You cut him off, your gaze finally meeting his. Anger burned in your eyes, a testament to the pain that still lingered within. “The same way she let me suffer,” you declared, your voice laced with bitterness. The words hung heavily in the air, a raw truth that underlined the depth of your hurt. “You two wasted your precious time coming here. I’m not going back.”

A tense silence settled in the room, the weight of your decision palpable. The Avengers, once your allies, now stood before you, their expressions reflecting a mix of concern and disappointment. The path ahead seemed uncertain, and while part of you longed to join them, to embrace the cause once more, the scars of the past held you back.

With a heavy sigh, Natasha’s gaze softened, her words carrying a weight of understanding. “I know what she did to you. I know the pain she caused, but you also know how dire the situation can become. It’s going to escalate, and without your help, more lives will be at risk. More lives will be lost.” Your eyes locked onto hers, imploring you to remember the purpose that once drove you. “You were an Avenger, Y/N, because you believed in putting an end to that agony.”

Her words reverberated in the air, stirring a mix of emotions within you. Memories of your past life as an Avenger, the camaraderie, the shared purpose, surged to the surface. The weight of responsibility and the desire to protect innocents clashed with the scars of your own personal pain.

You hesitated, torn between the desire to shield yourself from further harm and the realization that your abilities could make a difference in preventing a greater catastrophe. The echoes of Natasha’s plea resonated in your mind.

Taking a deep breath, you met her gaze once more. “You don’t know anything,” you expressed flatly. “I hope you can find a way to save her without me.” With those words hanging in the air, you turned away from them, putting your focus back on the frozen meal in your hands as you stepped over to the microwave.

“She still loves you.” You felt yourself freeze at the android’s voice, your grip tightening and ultimately crumpling the box. Natasha’s voice was low when she attempted to stop him, but he continued with no regard for her. “She never stopped loving you, Y/N.”

“Don’t do that,” you claimed, your voice barely above a whisper, yet you knew he heard you. You dropped the meal onto the counter with a loud thunk as you leaned against it, bracing yourself. “Don’t manipulate my emotions so you can have your happy ending.”

The memory you had fought so hard against managed to trickle in through the cracks Vision’s words caused, and tears pricked the backs of your eyes as you looked at Wanda in your mind. Her soft features, usually filled with warmth and love, were now only filled with sorrow and agony. The pain of the past surged through your veins, threatening to consume you once again. You closed your eyes, desperately trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you, yet it only gave you a clearer view of what had happened.

“You’re wrong,” you sneered, pivoting to face the pair. “Wanda never had any true affection for me, and the Witch only aimed to exploit my vulnerability.” With your arms tightly folded across your chest, you leaned against the countertop behind you and subtly shook your head. “Picture this, Vision: rescuing the person you cherish from a… an ominous force, only to have her confess that she’s never reciprocated your love.”

The weight of those words hung heavy in the air as you paused, your gaze fixed on a distant point. The bitter taste of betrayal lingered on your lips, and a mixture of hurt and anger etched itself on your face. The truth had been unveiled, revealing a painful reality that shattered the illusion of love and trust you had held onto.

The memories flooded your mind, each one a piece of the puzzle that now formed a clear image. You recalled the moments of tenderness, the stolen glances, and the whispered promises of forever. But now they seemed like mere illusions, a cruel facade that masked the true intentions of the Scarlet Witch.

A surge of conflicting emotions coursed through your veins. On one hand, there was a sense of disbelief, a desperate desire to deny the harsh reality that had been thrust upon you. On the other hand, a wave of seething anger swelled within, fueled by the profound sense of betrayal. How could someone you loved so profoundly deceive you in such a way?

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as you continued to steady yourself against the counter. The pain in your voice was undeniable. “The two of you can relax here for the night and wait out the storm, but I expect you to be gone in the morning.” Leaving your untouched dinner behind, you moved past Natasha and Vision, disappearing into the recesses of your apartment. The heavy thud of the closing bedroom door echoed, and a deep exhale escaped your lips as your back pressed against it.

In the quiet solitude, a whispered “I’m sorry” lingered in the air. The memory of her apology played like a haunting film on the back of your eyelids. You recalled the way she looked at you, a mix of remorse and helplessness, and your naive laughter that had once dismissed her regrets. At the time, you hadn’t fully grasped what she was apologizing for… until she mustered up the confidence to continue.

Shaking your head, you pried yourself away from the door, crossing the room to the edge of the bed. As you began to untie your shoes, you grappled with memories that threatened to overwhelm you. You tried to push them back into the vault you had constructed, sealing it shut to prevent the flood of emotions. Yet, despite your efforts, the vault had opened, and you allowed yourself to remember - her smile, the depth of her eyes, the infectious laughter that once filled the room.

A vice tightened around your heart as you recalled the tender moments, like the gentle sweep of her hand through your hair, a simple touch that held profound meaning. The recollection of nights entwined together, limbs and blankets creating a comforting chaos, brought both warmth and pain.

The struggle to forget was real, but the past insisted on resurfacing. With each memory, the walls you had built threatened to crumble, exposing vulnerabilities you had meticulously hidden. 

The soft knock barely registered in your mind, lost beneath the weight of your thoughts. It wasn’t until a voice - steady, familiar - cut through the haze that you blinked back into the present. Your gaze lifted, sluggish and unfocused, until it landed on Natasha standing in front of you.

Your eyes flickered, landing on the frozen meal - now fully cooked - resting in her hands. The same one you’d abandoned in the kitchen. The same one you had no energy to make for yourself.

You hesitated. Accepting it meant letting her stay, meant listening to whatever argument she’d prepared to drag you back into the fight. But when your stomach let out a low, insistent growl, the choice was made for you.

Wordlessly, you took the meal.

She sat beside you without invitation.

“You’re right,” she murmured as you shoveled a forkful of food into your mouth. “I don’t know anything.”

You chewed slowly, your eyes fixed on the meal rather than the woman beside you. But she wasn’t finished.

“I don’t know what happened between you and Wanda after everything,” she continued. “I just know that whatever it was, it was bad enough to make you leave. To move across the country. To try to disappear.”

You swallowed, the food suddenly feeling heavy in your throat. “How’d you even find me?”

A low chuckle slipped from her lips, quiet and knowing. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you.”

You huffed, shaking your head as you lifted another bite to your mouth. “Too busy to stop by, but not too busy to spy.”

She exhaled through her nose, but there was no denial. Only quiet acknowledgment.

“You know I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important,” she said, her voice steady, unwavering.

And the worst part?

You knew she was right.

You let Natasha’s words settle in the space between you - heavy, unshakable. She never wasted time on trivial things. If she was here, it meant things were worse than she was letting on.

Your grip tightened around the fork as you forced another bite past the growing lump in your throat. “I already told you - I’m not going back,” you muttered, barely above a whisper.

Natasha didn’t argue. She didn’t scoff or roll her eyes. She just sat there, hands resting on her thighs, watching you with that quiet patience you hated. She knew you too well. Knew you’d be the first to break…

And you did.

“Is she really that far gone?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, quieter this time.

She inhaled, slow and measured. “She’s unraveling.”

A shiver crawled down your spine.

You remembered it too clearly - the way Wanda’s power frayed at the edges when the Witch began to take control, the way she trembled beneath its weight, fighting a battle no one else could see. You had been there, helpless as the Scarlet Witch whispered promises and lies in equal measure, clawing her way to the surface mercilessly.

And you remembered the way Wanda looked at you before she lost the fight - eyes wild with desperation, fingers twitching as if reaching for something… for you…

And then—

She let go.

But you held on.

The memory burned through you, a sharp ache settling deep in your chest. You swallowed hard, blinking against the image, forcing yourself back to the present.

“She’s looking for something,” Natasha said, her voice quieter now, almost secretive. “Or someone.”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “And let me guess - you think it’s me.”

She didn’t answer right away. Just held your gaze, steady and unflinching.

You scoffed, setting your meal aside. “I left for a reason.”

“I know.”

“She made her choice.”

“I know.”

Jaw clenched, you exhaled sharply through your nose and pushed off the bed. Sitting felt suffocating. Pacing was better—movement was better than feeling.

Natasha stayed silent, watching as you wore a path into the floor. Then, finally, she spoke, “She’s not just looking for you, Y/N.” A pause, weighted and deliberate. “She’s calling for you.”

Your stomach twisted. Whether you wanted to believe it or not, she was right. And you both knew it.

“You might be the only one who can reach her before it’s too late.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dark Energy 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff

Summary: you become a point of contention between Wanda and Steve.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“I’ll be in and out,” Wanda promises. 

“Oh, okay, are you sure you don’t want me to wait out here?” You peer up at the daunting facade of the large compound marked with an A in a notable swoosh. The Avengers logo adds to your imposter syndrome. 

“Are you serious? That would be awfully rude of me,” she tuts. “It is me who forgot my phone.” 

“Right,” you chew your lip and hurry along with her as she waves her hand and a scarlet aura has the doors opening at her will. 

“Don’t worry so much. My coworkers are probably busy.” 

“Um, yeah, I wasn’t...” 

“And not so intimidating as you think. In their little costumes, eh?” She chuckles. 

You try to laugh. You don’t think they look ridiculous. Some might call it camp but you’re sure there’s some practical use to it all. What would you know? You’re just you. 

“Anyhow, we’ll fetch my phone and be off to the festival,” she assures you. “I am not in the mood to spend any more time with these freaks than need be.” 

She glances at you as you blink in shock at her branding. She clucks. 

“I am joking,” she pokes you. “I tease them and they tease me. Do you know what rhymes with ‘witch’?” 

You make another face and she laughs again. You hurry on, feeling like a little girl rushing after their parent on the way to the principal’s office. Not in a million years would you expect to have a friend as cool as Wanda. Well, she doesn’t seem to mind you and she shows you all sorts of cool things like the cards she reads and the dolls she makes. 

“That’s not very nice,” you say. 

“Not all my friends are as nice as you,” she assures. 

“So you’re friends with the Avengers?” 

“Some,” she shrugs. “Some not so much.” 

She stops at a door and flicks her fingers. They open as she struts forward. You linger and only follow her as you steady yourself. All night, you spent wading in anxiety in anticipation for the berry festival but you are wholly unprepared for this. 

You step into the doorway as she holds out her arm. A little red rectangle flies through the air. She catches her phone with a hum. She taps the screen with her almond nails as she turns to you. 

“There we are. I have the passes here,” she wiggles the screen at you. “My friend, Antonia, she will be selling her scarves and such. She does wonderful work.” 

“Cool, uh, guess we should get going--” 

You spin around, only to walk into a wall that wasn’t there before. You gasp and step back as two hands come up to steady you. You bat your lashes as your eyes flick up. You gulp as you recognise the famous chiseled jaw and golden hair. 

Steve Rogers holds you at arm’s length as your eyes flit up and down. His chest is huge, arms too, biceps exposed as he wears a loose muscle shirt. You’ve only ever seen him in his gear or suited up. On television, not face-to-face. 

He smiles as your mouth falls open. Wow. You've never seen anyone like him. Not aside from Wanda. They really are superhuman. 

“I’m sorry, Captain America,” you say as you gently step out of his grasp. 

Wanda giggle and nudges your side with her knuckles, “no need for all that." She raises her chin, "Steven.” 

He rolls his eyes, “so now you bringing civilians in here?” 

“Not to worry, we are on our way out. No need to sound the alarm,” she sniffs. 

He looks between you, “hi, Steve.” He offers his hand. 

“Oh, there he goes with the manners,” she rolls her eyes. “Come on, we’ve lost enough time.” 

“I don’t know how they do things where you’re from, Wanda, but an introduction is pretty typical.” 

“Well, I know when you’re from and times have changed,” she taunts and takes your hand. “Come, we are late.” 

She pulls you around Steve and you can only let her. You stumble along with her and crane to look back. He’s watching you. He gives a wave then disappears through the door. 

“He’s been such a stickler lately,” she complains. “If he hadn’t been on my case, I wouldn’t have forgotten my phone.” She lets you go as she checks it again. She locks it and tucks it into her red leather coat. “Ah, whatever. Forget about work, we’re going to have all sorts of fun.” 

You can’t speak. You're still in shock that you were in presence of the Captain America. You can feel his grip still warm on your arm. You’re not one of those fan girls but you always thought he was pretty cool. You think most people who aren’t you are. 

Wanda hops into her red convertible and pops on her sunglasses. The cat eyes give her a sleek look. You’re own are too big, inherited from a coworker who was giving them away. Like the rest of your things, you just sort of collected it. Never a voice of your own, just taking what you get. 

“I’ve never been to a berry festival,” you say. 

“Oh, you’ll love it. It’s more than just berries. Mostly stalls. Pies, jams, honey... but then you have the crafters. Like Antonia. Or you can have your tarot read but I must warn you, those swindlers aren’t so accurate as I am.” 

“Mm, yeah, probably just want money.” 

“Precisely, but we might find you a nice deck. I could show you how to read.” She offers as she shifts into gear. 

“Okay.” 

She’s quiet as she adjusts her mirror. You sense her peek at you. You smile at her sheepishly. 

“Forget about him.” She girds. “That captain has a lot of issues You don’t need to get into all that.” 

“I’m not--” 

“The serum made him look that way, he’s still that insecure skinny man inside.” Her voice deepens. “Do you remember when I read your cards? I said you would encounter dark energy. You would fare well to avoid him.” 

“Dark energy? Captain America?” 

“Steven Grant Rogers,” she corrects you. “Just a man. Just another simple man. And at the core, they are all the same.” 

[rxmqnova]

*Avengers meeting*

Tony: Y/N is late again.

Steve: How did this happen? I called her at 8 o'clock this morning and pretended it was 11.

Clint: I printed up a fake schedule for her saying we were starting at 9 instead of noon.

Natasha: I set her clock to say PM when it's really AM.

Wanda: Oh boy. We may have overdone it.

*Y/N bursts through the door*

Y/N: WHAT TIME IS IT?

[sunschay]

You Bring Me Back to Life || Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Despite your broken heart, you try your best to overcome the huge hole that your ex-girlfriend, Natasha, left in your chest. You just never imagined in a million years that you would fall in love again, with your best friend, the Scarlet Witch.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: None

Word count: 5,755 words

Part 2 from A House of Lies

Sweat runs down your neck and drips from your forehead, accumulating on the back of your neck. The park is open and looks pleasant, it's still early so a small crowd of people gather around the huge green lawn, some chatting, others simply doing some exercise or admiring the crystal clear lake a few meters away or the huge fountain with a beautiful bronze sculpture. You stop, unscrew the cap from the transparent bottle and collect all the water to your stomach in minutes. 

Exactly three months ago, your life changed dramatically. Especially because you simply discovered that your lovely ex-girlfriend, none other than Black Widow, had been cheating on you for months right under your nose, in addition to having lied several times that she was going on missions with the rest of the Avengers. 

You trusted Natasha deeply and she destroyed your heart without even thinking about how you would feel. Besides, you were sick, isolated at home, on bed rest because a serious pneumonia had caught you. 

The fact that Natasha had taken advantage of your weak physical state, damaged by the virus, to betray you with fucking Captain America still hurt you deep down.

Fortunately, you had realized how much Natasha hurt you. Not only because of the cheatings you discovered, but sometimes you simply reflected on Romanoff's behavior and saw that she didn't seem completely ready for a relationship. Sure, she took care of you, even more so after you got sick, but when it came to companionship and trust, things were different. She always seemed suspicious of you even without giving her any reason to, and she didn't know how to solve an argument without yelling or sex, she really thought that fucking would solve everything. But no, you always prioritized dialogue and patience, things that Natasha really didn't mind putting ahead of your relationship.

Natasha also didn't know how to show her feelings clearly.

You didn't blame her for that, after all, the Red Room reshaped her into a cold woman created to be a special assassin with no limitations. 

Still, Natasha wasn't exactly the most loving type. She was a difficult person to deal with and you knew it from the beginning, but you fell for her anyway. Not because of her body, although she seemed sculpted by the gods above with every curve and every inch of soft, warm skin, even with her scars. She was a good person. She was a great friend and knew how to deal with situations of all kinds. 

She just wasn't a good girlfriend. She wasn't loyal either, and that kind of spoiled her. 

“God, it could be less hot.” You lamented, already completely drenched in sweat from your morning runs. 

You had learned something good from this lesson. Natasha had taught you, not directly, but she had opened your eyes to see that you needed to care much more about yourself than just the people around you who could stab you in the back. Exactly as she did. You were fortunately able to recover from pneumonia and were already feeling better and much more energetic. That's why you had already returned to your intense training and running, after all, taking care of your body had always been a habit, not an obligation.  

Things were going well, except for her completely broken mental state and her trust issues having returned because of what she did. 

Yeah, she really did a number on you. 

You sighed in relief when you entered your new temporary apartment, placing the bottle to fill under the cold filter and packing your things in your bag. You were still going to go to the gym that was a few meters away from the neighborhood. Moving from city to city and country was a habit for you, almost an addiction, but visiting France was always very frequent, since you spent a good part of your childhood here. You loved the landscapes, the food, the romanticism of the country – even though you had no one to share your romanticism and feel loved with – and you loved the extremely wide and common image of the Eiffel Tower. 

Either way, you needed to take a break from the United States, and from the things that reminded you of Natasha, because those things were there with her. 

“Fuck, holy shit Wanda, you want to kill me before I'm 40? I haven't even had kids yet!” You exclaimed as you turned around, seeing the witch leaning against your living room window. 

And there she was. Dressed in her usual dark goth clothes, leather jacket, boots, tight pants and a dark purple shirt underneath the jacket, her blue eyes looking at you as if she was seeing a miracle in front of her. Her red hair was a little longer than the last time you saw her, but she looked beautiful. Absurdly beautiful, and breathtaking, you thought. 

You mentally scolded yourself, thinking that you shouldn't look at your friend like that. 

Anyway, you simply disappeared from New York shortly after you got better physically and after you broke up with Natasha, so you didn't even give any explanations to any of your teammates, which must have certainly upset them. Exclusively Wanda herself. 

“If Steve were here, he would have lectured you for an hour for having such a foul mouth.” She laughed, the way her lips curved was adorable.

Your body quickly went still at the mention of Rogers' name. You felt your shoulders tense and your muscles turn to stone, a bitter, disgusting taste forming on your tongue as you remembered exactly how much contempt and disgust you carried for him now. 

“I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Y/n...I forgot for a moment.” She apologized, feeling guilty for mentioning his name as quickly as she saw you.

“Alright, relax, Wands. Everything's fine. What are you doing here? Or rather, how did you get in, you clever little witch?” You teased her, the smile on her lips making you melt for a minute. 

“Oh, are you forgetting for a moment about my super invasive magical gifts? I came to see a friend. I know you left New York as soon as that happened and I'm really sorry. But you had me worried sick, Precious.” She sighed, now looking a little nervous. 

“Oh. Sure. She told you. Yeah, I just thought everything was fine between us and that she was happy, Wanda. But she chose to be happier by cheating on me with him right under my nose and fooling me like I was nothing.” You replied, licking your lips with a blank look. 

“She didn't have to tell me anything, Y/n. I felt it. I just felt it when you left and I felt your pain, so deep and so agonizing. You don't deserve any of this. Anyway, I had the displeasure of seeing them kissing at the Complex the other day.” She said, completely uncomfortable and disgusted with the subject. 

“Anyway. Come give me a hug before I rip your ears off if you try to disappear like that again without telling me.” She said seriously, seeing you laugh lightly and come closer. 

As soon as you hugged Wanda, everything seemed to disappear for a minute. You loved her hug, if her voice could comfort you, her touch made you melt. Her scent was even better, a sweet and light mix of fragrant vanilla and coffee. You closed your eyes, feeling her arms lightly squeeze your shoulders, bringing you closer, and you shivered when her breath lightly passed close to your neck. 

You always suspected why Wanda never had a romantic relationship with anyone. 

To be honest, you had heard some rumors from some certain little birds (Those that started with C and T) that she liked you. Of course you thought it was absurd at the time, you were best friends and you faithfully believed that Wanda only saw you that way, even knowing that Natasha was extremely irritating and frustratingly jealous of you with the Maximoff girl who always treated you so well and so affectionately. 

Still, you couldn't believe that Wanda could like you. 

Okay, sometimes you had reason to be suspicious of course. You were the only person on the team who always received a kiss on the cheek from Wanda (she only kissed her twin, Pietro, before he died) and she always let you lay your head on her lap to vent for hours about your problems, just like you always did with her too, after all you were super close to each other. 

She also used to give you affectionate nicknames like Smarty or Precious. And maybe that's why Natasha didn't like this friendship that you and Wanda share at all, but now Romanoff was no longer a flea behind your ear to worry about. 

You two weren't even together anymore anyway. 

“Hmm...you need a bath, honey.” She said, making you burst out laughing and leaned in close, her lips dangerously kissing the corner of your mouth. 

You shivered, your muscles turning to jelly and your skin crawling. It was embarrassing and it seemed confusing to you, because not even Natasha had that kind of effect on you, when the two of you were together. But Wanda... Wanda was deep, not just in her eyes but in her manner, her hands. God. She was incredible. 

“I know, little witch. I'll be working on it.” You chuckled, licking your lips thirstily. 

Removing the thick, warm sweatshirt from your torso, you adjusted the black tank top on your body. You usually used to wear cold weather clothes and sweatshirts to cover your body, after all, your insecurity with it was endless. A bit confusing, after all, you had always been in shape and your physique was amazing, but the various scars around your body from the battles with the team over the years and your body dysmorphia made you feel completely weak and useless. 

You pulled the bottle out from under the water filter, taking a long drink and suppressing a groan as the freezing water chilled your sensitive teeth. Out of the corner of your eye, you felt Wanda drinking from your body, her hungry green eyes moving up and down every part of you. 

This makes your face heat up and turn red like a raw pepper. 

A sigh left your lips and you tried to ignore it, thinking it was paranoia coming from your head. You grabbed a towel and a pair of clothes, a long black t-shirt and knee-length workout shorts, taking off your shoes and sweaty socks. 

“Would you like something to drink? Tea, some bitter coffee? I can get you something before I wash off the skunk smell I have.” You smiled, seeing her return a light smile. 

“Maybe just some herbal tea. But don't rush, go take a bath to relax your body. I'll be here.” She said, her cheeks reddening for some reason. 

You'd love to be able to read her mind like she used to do with everyone. 

“I'll be back in five minutes.” You walk away slowly, entering the small bathroom. 

The cold water made your bones shiver and your back arch slightly. As you washed yourself, you stopped to think if your paranoid theory was right about Wanda liking you. What if she did, and you gave in again only to get hurt again like you had when you were with Natasha? 

No, Wanda wouldn't do that. Right? 

She was the type of woman who would easily like to start a family just like Clint did, live in a calmer and more isolated place, in a house full of children and far from any chaos that could involve the Avengers. 

Even so, you were afraid. 

Wanda made your heart flutter and burn every time you looked at her face. Her voice, her hands, her words, everything about her calmed you. She was naturally sweet. She had lost everything a long time ago and yet she was still the same girl you knew, the same girl who might be the one for you. 

“Noisy head.” You muttered to yourself, the millions of thoughts about Maximoff making you feel lost. 

Once the shower was over, you wrapped yourself in a towel and brushed your teeth, finishing the rest of the hygiene routine you maintained. Drying your hair and the rest of your body, you got dressed again, your body smelling of fresh soap and freshly showered. Wanda was sitting comfortably in one of the corners of your couch, her eyes staring outside your living room window, looking distracted. You rested the slightly damp towel on one of your shoulders, putting on your slippers and putting water in a kettle, starting to boil on the stove. 

“What's the little witch thinking, huh? Vision, perhaps?” You joked, seeing her look at you with a hilarious expression. 

The fact that Vision was a robot created by a small incident years ago did not prevent him from having feelings and he himself has made it clear several times that he liked Wanda romantically. She, however, did not seem to share the same feelings, but still saw him as a friend like the rest of the team. 

“Certainly not. You still really think I like him, huh?” She laughed, watching you pour some herbs into the boiling water and a tea bag with chamomile tea inside. 

“I know he's been head over heels for you ever since he joined us. But I see that you just don't seem to feel the same way and I understand that.” You answered simply, grabbing two cups and watching the water begin to bubble. 

“I know, and I hope he finds someone who deserves him. I think we all deserve a little love sometimes.” She said and you nodded without much emotion, feeling her approach you. 

Natasha made you believe that you didn't deserve love anymore ever since that happened. But that wasn't all. You just felt like your heart was building iron walls around itself, trying to defend itself from any possible loving 'threat'. You hated feeling that way, but you also knew it wasn't your fault. 

“Y/n. We need to talk a little, okay?” She said and you shivered when you felt her right behind your back, but you just nodded. 

“Sure. Did something happen?” You turned around, pressing your back against the counter and she shook her head with a smile. 

“No, certainly not. Today is Nate's birthday. Clint invited us, he'd love to have you come.” She said, already noticing the tension in your shoulders. 

“Will everyone be there?” The question came firmly from your mouth, but also with fear. 

“Everyone on the team. Although we haven't been a team since... a year ago. If I may say so.” Wanda muttered, swallowing hard. 

It's true. Since the Civil War a year ago, everything has changed dramatically, as the team has split up to fight against each other because of the Sokovia Accords imposed by the cold Secretary of State, Ross. 

“Wanda, you know how I feel about being around those... people. I don't want to cause any trouble.” You said, the thought of seeing Natasha making your stomach turn. 

“I totally get that, my precious. But you also need to understand that sometimes it might be impossible not to see her or Rogers, or both of them in the same place. Sometimes you have to face your biggest fears. Come on, Y/n. You don't have to stay the whole party, let's just have some fun, forget about our problems, you know Clint and Nate would love to see you there, we miss you among us.” She said, biting her lip as she hoped to change your mind. 

Well, she had a point. You missed Barton's son and Clint himself, his family was like a second family to you, if you had one, but being with them was like forgetting everything and anything bad. 

“Okay, I'll go to the party, Wands. For you.” You say, seeing something in the depths of her eyes shine and she hugs you sideways, one hand gripping your arm.

“It's on his farm in Iowa. Before eleven o'clock at night. I'm sure you won't regret it.” She says, making you smile sideways as you pour both cups and hand one to her. 

[...]

If regret killed, you would already be unconscious, sinking into a pool of blood. But you weren't. And you were doing this for Wanda, Nate, and Clint. You deeply missed your friends, missed the way things were before the Sokovia Accords separated everyone and put a good part of the team in a prison on the Raft. Anyway, that was over and here you were in Iowa, one year later. The night was starry, twinkling lights hanging from some posts in front of the Barton house and some familiar faces gathered around a table. 

Looking around, you faithfully hoped you wouldn't have to face Natasha there, but you could already see a tangle of red hair and the figure of a short body near the table made you shiver. Stay strong, you repeat to yourself several times. 

Gathering some courage, you walked over to the table, seeing a few bottles of beer and small glasses of soda scattered there, along with a cake with blue whipped cream cut in half. Nathaniel quickly recognized you on Clint's lap and you hugged them, stroking the child's short hair. 

“Look who showed up, those who are alive always show up! Hey, kid, you had me worried, you were gone for too long. How are things, huh?” He chuckled, ruffling your hair slightly and hugging you sideways. 

“I'm fine, Clint, thanks for the invite. For Nate and for you guys I'll go anywhere. I'm fine, things are slowly going in the right direction.” You said, watching him nod with some concern. 

It was already obvious that Clint knew that you and Natasha had broken up. You just wondered if she said that she was the one who ruined everything between you and that she cheated on you with Rogers. 

“I'm so sorry, mate. For you and Nat... I know what it's like to lose what you hold most dear in life.” He said, giving you a knowing look and you smiled weakly. 

“She was sweet, Clint, until she fucked up herself. But I appreciate the support. Mmm, beer, I could smell it from afar.” You laughed lightly, grabbing a bottle and opening the lid with your teeth, spitting it out and saw Clint frown in confusion. 

He didn't know anything. Natasha really was a tremendous liar. 

“Of course she wouldn't tell you, Clint, you're her best friend. She cheated on me with Steve, for months, yes while I was sick at home needing her attention and affection. People are not what they seem, I learned that kind of late. Don't worry, I've sorted it out with her.” You took a sip of the cold drink, watching Clint sigh in complete disbelief. 

It didn't matter if Natasha and he were best friends or not, Clint was also your friend and he saw you as a sibling, sometimes you even seemed like family, so what she did to you wasn't fair. 

“This isn't fair, Jesus, Y/n! She... fuck, she will hear the sermon she has never heard in her life, she needs to know that this is cowardice. You can make yourself at home, I'm going to call Laura to cut your cake, there are more sweets inside the house.” He said, giving you a quick hug and walked away to the house to clean the small mess Nate made on his shirt. 

You opened your mouth and closed it, sighing deeply as he walked away. You appreciated that about Clint, though. He was always a fair and principled man, so he certainly wouldn't let Natasha off the hook for the shit she did. Steve was also to blame for that anyway. 

“Hey, hacker! Did you miss me?” You laughed, watching Tony come closer and hug you. 

Even though you had been at odds with each other a year ago, Tony was one of the closest people on the team to you besides Clint and Thor, who apparently wasn't here. It was rare for you two to fight for a long time, you always found a way to resolve things. Your and Stark's sarcasm and genial demeanor really complemented each other. You still greeted Sam Wilson and the 'Bucky' nearby, ignoring Rogers' smug and arrogant face nearby, giving a brief wave to Laura, Clint's wife who was taking care of the children. 

“How can I not miss my favorite tin head? How are things with Pepper, big guy?” You smiled, taking another sip of your beer. 

“Listen, I heard about what happened with Romanoff, and I'm so sorry. She doesn't deserve you. I never liked the popsicle face to be honest.” He said, making you let out a light laugh. 

“I know, they deserve each other. It's okay Tony, I'm better off alone.” You whispered and he nodded. 

The night continued to unfold calmly and slowly, and you hated feeling Natasha's gaze on your back, even though she hadn't said anything. You looked ahead and your eyes lit up when the sight of Wanda approaching made you smile, wearing a shiny black dress that ended at her knees, her wavy hair loose and her face illuminated without much makeup. She didn't need any makeup, she was always so incredibly beautiful. You felt your heart race and bit your lip. 

To be honest, you rarely saw Wanda wearing dresses, it felt like the first time. 

“Look who came. I'm glad my mind manipulation had some effect.” She teased you, giggling as she approached. 

Your arms opened wide for her, one hand still holding the drink, and she quickly enveloped herself in the warmth of your embrace. You felt Wanda shiver for some reason as your somewhat bold free hand (the effect of the alcohol) gently touched her back and the side of her slim waist. Wanda laughed lightly against your neck, tightening the hug, and you almost grunted in frustration when she pulled away to greet the rest of the group. Her scent had lingered on you and was so wonderful that it intoxicated you like a new addiction. 

“You look beautiful, little witch. Always smelling so good.” You greeted, watching her cheeks turn pink and Wanda serve you a piece of cake on a colorful plate. 

“I can say the same about you, smarty.” She said, sending you an air kiss. 

Everything seemed peaceful as you ate and chatted in a group with each other, Wanda, Clint, and Tony. It was good to know that things were finally back to the way they were before the whole Sokovia thing. You wiped your lips, which were previously stained with whipped cream and chocolate filling, handing a wrapped present to Nate who was in Clint's arms. You faithfully hoped that he liked plushies because nothing else had come to mind as a birthday present for a 2-year-old. 

“Still not going to greet me?” A husky female voice with an unrecognizable Russian accent came through and you almost rolled your eyes. 

“Good evening, Natasha.” You answered seriously, feeling her deep green eyes look you up and down. 

“Good evening. You've gotten much closer than just friends. Have you ever kissed each other, perhaps?” She teased, trying to look innocent, looking between you and Wanda. 

“You can be sure that whoever wasted one of their kisses would be missing out on a lot, Romanoff.” Wanda smiled tightly, watching Natasha's expression fall and you heard Clint approaching the table. 

“I didn't remember you being so rude, Maximoff. Has time been hard on you, or is it just me?” Natasha smiled and you could already smell the strong drink coming from her. She was drunk. 

“Can you just shut the fuck up, Natasha? Please?” You interrupted, feeling her incredulous eyes now on your face. 

“And why the hell are you talking to me like that?” She questioned, crossing her arms. 

Now you could see her completely, before you. Her red hair was a little less long than before, but the color was still as bright as flames during a fire, and she was wearing a tight black skirt and a white blouse with a plunging neckline in the middle, her lips red. She would have been beautiful if she hadn't been so fucking petulant and ignorant. 

“You shouldn't talk to her like that, just apologize.” Rogers walked in on you and you laughed at the smug expression on his face. 

“Please calm down a bit guys, there are children here.” Laura warned with Clint by her side. 

“The lab mouse is defending his snack. Calm down, Rogers, you could soon be replaced by anyone who thinks faster than you think, get that puppy-dog expression off your face.” You laughed, watching him growl and take a step forward. 

“I'd rather be the lab rat than the abandoned rat. After all, you were the one who got traded first, my friend. If you did your job in bed, she'd still be with you by now.” He smiled cynically. 

You felt the blood boil until it went to your head, your brain simply reacting as quickly as it could. You punched Rogers' jaw hard, hearing the sound of something breaking in it and he staggered, stumbling on the floor already drunk. Of course there was a lot of disagreement between you, he had been created as a laboratory experiment and you were twice as strong as him due to the extra dose of physical and mental powers you carried. 

But Natasha had never said anything, like complaints about the relationship you had behind closed doors. The sex between you seemed pleasant to you and even so, that didn't justify her having cheated on you with Rogers like that. 

“No one complained while she was tasting me, 'friend'. She just thought it was fair to taste the little mouse to satisfy her neediness, it's no wonder Banner left you when he had the chance.” You said, seeing a flash of hurt in Natasha's eyes as you walked away. 

You threw the almost empty glass bottle into a trash bag, hearing the shards shatter and heard Rogers complain about you with your bruised face, besides him insisting on taking Natasha home. It was none of your business, really. Clint guided you inside, without judging or lecturing you, after all he understood how it felt right now. 

“I'll clean up the kids' mess outside. Feel free to do so, but no arguments please.” He said, giving you a knowing look. 

You sat on the couch, a little cramped, looking to the side as Wanda came in and sat next to you. She took your hand, seeing that you had hurt your knuckles when you hit Rogers and took a damp cloth, cleaning the small cuts. 

“Was it worth it?” She asked, the pleasant Sokovian accent making you relax for a moment. 

“Yes.” The whisper came from your mouth, husky and simple. 

“So it's all right. She hurt you, I feel it... right here. But things are moving forward.” She said, her hand implanted just inches above your heart. 

You nodded, feeling her hand still on your chest as you calmed the fury and contempt for the two Avengers outside. Your heart was still racing, but for Wanda now. You didn't understand why she had this effect on you, she was so kind, so perfect in every way. You felt your mouth go dry and your eyes roamed over every inch of her face. 

“I wonder why I can never get it right with anyone. It was like that with Sharon and now with Natasha.” You whispered, watching as she finished cleaning your fingers and began to caress the palm of your hand. 

“Y/n, listen to me and listen to me well. None of this is your fault. Okay, we all make mistakes sometimes in a relationship, it happens often and I understand, it can end up teaching us valuable lessons. But look at you, you are so respectful, patient and simply the most genuine and affectionate person I know. Natasha didn't cheat on you because you are the problem, but she herself is, she is characterless and needs validation from others.” She said, her fingertips caressing your chin. 

You were stunned for a moment, not only because Wanda seemed completely right but also because her closeness to your face, her extremely sweet and calming voice made you feel ecstatic. You nodded, leaning in slowly to feel more of her touch. 

“You think so? About me. You describe me as the best person you've ever met and I don't see that. Not on me.” You sighed, feeling Wanda hold your face with both hands. 

“You are the best person I know and I mean it. You mean so much to me, precious. And you deserve so much more than shallow relationships like Sharon or Natasha gave you. So much more.” She whispered, licking her lips eagerly. 

You smiled, the seriousness and depth of the matter lost as Wanda placed a blue cone-shaped birthday hat on your head. Laughter filled the room and you grabbed a party blower, accidentally blowing it into Wanda's lips. You held back a laugh, seeing the terrifying expression she made and when you thought you were going to get scolded, she grabbed you by the back of the neck, one hand grabbing the collar of your clothes. 

“Why don't you try blowing here?” She teased, smirking as she leaned in closer. 

Wanda's voice sounds insinuating, but she doesn't take any steps that might seem invasive or uncomfortable to you. Your muscles freeze and your breathing becomes irregular. For the first time, you have the greatest chance to kiss Wanda, and you know you want it desperately, because she wants it too, it's visible in her eyes. Her fingers caress your chin and her nails scrape without strong pressure on your skin, then she brushes her lips against yours for seconds before sinking her mouth into yours calmly. 

There is no malice or rush in the kiss. But Wanda brushes her tongue against your lower lip and tries to deepen the kiss, which you allow, feeling her tongue dance in your mouth. 

This is unlike anything you've ever experienced. 

The kisses you shared with Natasha were always rough or abrupt because of the strong sexuality she demonstrated in the relationship, things usually ended in bed. In any case, they were not always very loving or long kisses. 

But with Wanda it was simply intense. The softness of her lips was simply incredible. The way she touched you calmly and cautiously, without wanting to go too fast or being careful enough not to do something wrong to you, showed how angelic she was. The slowness of the kiss. The tranquility. Wanda's scent lingering on your skin. You let out a gasp when she bit your lower lip and your hands pulled Wanda closer, her forehead pressing against yours when the lack of air separated your lips. 

“I love you, Y/n. I don't care if you still wish you were with Natasha. You've always been my friend, my companion. My only love.” She admitted, making your heart race. 

“Wanda. I was so stupid and blind to try to hold on to Natasha while she slept with Steve. I gave her all my love, trust, and loyalty only to be hurt so deeply. But now I see.” You whispered the first words, your lips already missing hers, your fingers caressing her delicate face. 

“...And it's you that I love. I tried to hide it when I preferred to be in your arms and hear your loving words, trying to convince myself that Natasha was the woman of my dreams. But it's you, Wanda. You're the woman I love, the woman I breathe and the woman I want by my side. I don't care if I get hurt if I'm with you.” You said, seeing her eyes slightly watery. 

It wasn't just the fact that Natasha had cheated on you that made you see the truth. She didn't make your heart race like Wanda did. Romanoff's touch had cooled over time, before you discovered the cheatings. But Wanda's touch always comforted you, always made you want more. Her lips were magnificent, they made you feel in a deep ecstasy of passion. Her scent made you dizzy, dizzy with love. Everything about Wanda enchanted you, everything about her made you realize that she was the one you wanted and it only took this night for everything to become clear. 

“I've waited so long to hear this from you. So long.” She sighed, feeling your lips quickly pushing against hers again. 

You had finally found the feeling of having true love in the palm of your hands. The woman of your dreams was in your arms. Wanda kissed you more deeply, moaning softly as the kiss became deeper and warmer, her hands tangling in your soft hair. You saw her smile between the kiss, feeling your body being laid on the small couch and Wanda climbing on top of you, tossing her red hair back before biting your lower lip. 

“Guys, would you like to- Oh. Looks like I'm a little early.” Clint cleared his throat as he entered the room, startled when he saw Wanda and you kissing. 

“Hey, Clint... sorry, we just... uh…” You tried to explain yourself, watching Wanda's face turn an adorable shade of red as she removed her weight from your body. 

“There's some cake left over. Laura will keep it for you if you want...if you want. I'm going to leave right away.” He growled in frustration, walking away in shame. 

“That was... that was hilarious.” Wanda said, bursting out laughing. 

“It was your fault. Nobody told you to stick your tongue down my throat like a pervert.” You smiled, feeling her hold your face and kiss you hard, patting your arm lightly. 

“You say that as if you didn't like it, Smarty.” She replied, her eyes shining as she looked at you.

“I loved it. I love all of it. The way you... You bring me back to life. I love you, Wanda.” You finished, your heart burning in flames for her. 

You had found love in your best friend.  And now you could finally rest your head with the love of your life.

[fandomnerd9602]

Wanda X Male Reader

Male Reader waking up hangover not knowing he texted Steve, Clint and Natasha basically asking if he can marry Wanda and him and Wanda have to endure Steve, Clint and Nat's teasing

Y/N stumbles into the kitchen…

Natasha laughs and hides her eyes…

Y/N: Steve, did I ask you something last night?

Steve smacks Y/N on the shoulder…

Steve: yes and you have my permission

Clint: not yet! you gotta show us the ring you got for her first! (laughs)

Y/N: what did I ask?!

Wanda playfully jumps on Y/N’s back, kissing their cheek…

Wanda; there’s my fiance! I want a small intimate ceremony

Y/N:

[thatcoolweirdgirl]

.

.

.

.

I just KNOW Tony was insufferable about it before his redemption arc (¬_¬")

[gfmaximoff]

Y/N: *tapping fingers on table*

Natasha: *taps fingers back furiously*

Wanda: …What’s going on?

Steve: Morse code. They’re talking.

Natasha: -. --- / ..- .-. / - .... . / -.-. ..- - . ... -

Y/N: *slams hands on the table* YOU TAKE THAT BACK

[stuckyslut8]

When perspective is earned.

Part 1

Summary : you head to the mountains in search of the plant, steve follows you up there.

Warning:18+ minors dni. smut . Dom steve rogers . Dark Steve . Fingering. Creampie. Breeding kink. Angst.

Pairing : king steve rogers x witch reader

The hours passed, the silence in the room only broken by the occasional crackle from the fireplace. Steven grew weary, the worry and helplessness wearing him down. He couldn't shake his thoughts of you, the way you had stormed out so defiantly, the way you could be alone and vulnerable right now.

It had been three days since you left .

In these three days, Steven had become a shell of his former self. The bags under his eyes were evident of the sleepless nights he had been having, his body running on adrenaline alone. He had thrown himself into his kingly duties, but every spare moment was spent pacing across the floor or staring out the window, praying for any sign of your return.

steve took matters into his Own hands and came looking for you in the mountains.

Steven rode through the harsh mountain terrain, his jaw clenched and his eyes scanning the surroundings intently. He had left his men behind under the pretense of a diplomatic mission, not wanting any of them to know of his true intentions.The wind howled as he made his way deeper into the mountains, the path difficult and treacherous. He kept his focus, knowing he had to find you before it was too late.

The snowstorm made visibility challenging, and the biting cold seeped through his thickest of cloaks. But Steven didn't let it deter him, his resolve firmer than ever. He pushed forward, his eyes sharp, his heart pounding.

"Steven ..what do you think you're doing here"

"looking for you, i told you it's not wise to go alone." He said mounting off of his horse getting close to you.

"so you rode in the middle of a storm?" You could see he was freezing. You used your magic to warm him up. He thanked you for it.

"stop it steven,you're a fool." Steve glared at you angrily. "Yes I'm a fool because I cared about you enough to come looking for you ." He spitted out.

" I can handle myself,I'm a witch." Steve sighed at your words knowing you were right, but he thought he had every right to panic and care about you and come here.

" did you...did you get what you wanted?" He asked after staring at you for a while.

" yes "

" well good... I suppose we can't leave now , we have to find a place to hide till the storm passes."

"follow me "

You both find a cave large enough to hold you both and the horses .

Steve was silent the whole time, so many questions lingering in his mind , yet he just followed your instructions.

"take of your wet clothes and dry them by the fire." He did as you said, stripping down every article of clothing till he was bare. You did the same , with nothing left to cover your modesty, you stood by the fire warming yourself up.

Steve tried his best not to stare at your form, your breasts perking up in the cold , the curves in your body.

You both sat beside each other, absorbing the warmth , watching embers fly.

"I'm sorry " steve broke the silence.

" save it." You said coldly, "not in the mood for your antics".

He pulled you closer roughly, "i mean it, you know i couldn't do anything when they found out about us, my mother kept me locked away, and after my father's demise I had to take over the throne ."

"you can do as you please , you're a human, a royal." Steven wrapped his arms around you tightly pulling you on his lap, your barely bodies creating friction against one another.

" please don't say that my love, you must understand my position." You squirmed in his lap, your pussy involuntarily rubbed against his thick member , he held your hips ,moving in you in a tantalizing phase, hearing your moans. Lips found your neck leaving a trail of kisses.

".we shouldn't..." You tried to think of an excuse, in vain as he popped one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on it skillfully.

" tell me to stop my sweet witch, tell me you don't need me like I need you right now." You couldn't.

Steve wasted no time , kissing every inch of you. His fingers found your pussy, playing with you like he had a thousand times before. "So tight as always little witch, need to stretch you enough to take all of me." He said fingers pumping in and out of you."just put your useless cock in me steven" you said angrily, both the circumstances and his teasing frustrated you.

he added a third one making you cry in pleasure. "Hmm no too much, too much" you whispered incoherently, steven chuckled. "Really witch, you can't take my fingers yet you're so confident about taking my cock? Always getting yourself in trouble." He yearned to hear those cried that left you, telling him how it was too much for you, you were too overstimulated from just his fingers. "You are amusing little witch, shall I stop then? If it is too much for you? Too much for this tiny witch pussy?"

"no don't you fucking stop" your nails scratching his back, leaving red marks.

"that's my girl, that's my little witch, I know what you can take.... but you should know little witch, I'm not the timid lean boy you were used to, the potion enhanced all parts of me, i doubt you can take my cock ."

"I can, I can take your cock please, please, I need it." You were shameless at this point , begging the man on top of you. Steve enjoyed it thoroughly. He pulled out his cock, giving it a few pumps before pushing it into your gaping hole.

You couldn't help the moans that left you, as steven pounded his cock in and out of you, his words didn't help either. "Shh I know my little witch, it's been far too long, I missed this pussy too ,more than you know, do not hold back, let me hear those moans." He nipped your neck ,leaving bite marks here and there , here comes the steven you used to know, the one always yearning to make you his, marking you at every possible chance.

Steven pounded into you mercilessly, his thick cock filling you up so snug, every movement overstimulated you, he didn't stop rocking his body back and forth, kissing your chest along the way. "Are you close my little witch? Let go for me, let go i want to feel that cunt clenching around me." His fingers played with your clit, making you cum , clenching hard around his cock just as he asked.

Steven kissed the away tears in your cheeks, soothing you comfortinglt, his fucked you rough but his hands held you softly. Giving you sweet kisses , telling you how much he missed you. "I'm gonna come in your little witch, make you mine all over again." He knew you could overpower him with your magic easily but you let him fuck you, you let him take over your body .

He fucked you through your orgasm, until his own release painted your walls . "Such a good little witch, always being good for me" he praised you as he pulled out, his fingers pushing his cum back into your hole, "want you to take every bit, little witch, and don't you dare use those contraceptive spells." You squirmed as his fingers fucked his cum back into your hole.

"nobody gets my seed little witch, you should be grateful for having the king's seed in you." You could only nod in response.

"come here don't freeze to death little witch." He pulled you tight in his embrace, eyes closing momentarily, before talking into a deep slumber.

[cece693]

So I had this silly idea of a character being super duper shy around you and who better else to write about than Pietro Maximoff. Not many fanfics are on Tumblr about him (which isn't all that suprising considering he dies by the end of his first movie) but in my heart he's very much alive. Hope you enjoy!

Tongue Tied

pairing: pietro maximoff x gender neutral reader tags: Pietro is a mess, wanda is a good sister, reader is amused but likes Pietro, the speedster is adorable

Pietro had a routine: wake up, shower, eat breakfast in a hurry (sometimes literally), and then spend the day reminding the Avengers just how fast he was. Confidence was basically his middle name. That is, until you came along. All it took was your shy smile—once—and boom. Suddenly, Pietro was about as smooth as a pothole-filled road.

Accident #1:

Your first week at the Avengers compound was a whirlwind. And when you asked Pietro for a tour, he practically teleported to your side. Wanda, arms folded, watched with a mischievous grin from the corner, ready to document his inevitable blunders.

Pietro cleared his throat. “So, um, this is the training room,” he said, gesturing to a door. “And that’s—” Only, the door he pointed to was actually a storage closet. Wanda snickered.

“Oh,” you said, peeking inside at a broom and mop. “State-of-the-art training gear, huh?”

Pietro’s eyes widened, cheeks burning. “Ha! Yes, definitely not the training room. That’s…um…storage. This—this is the training room.” He zipped across the hall to the correct door so fast, he nearly tripped over his own feet.

An awkward silence filled the space between you while Wanda silently mimed a facepalm. Pietro didn’t look remotely cool as he tried to recover, but you just smiled, amused. “I like the personal touch,” you teased. “Broom-fighting is a lost art.” Pietro managed a shaky laugh. Maybe you found it endearing—he could only hope.

Accident #2:

The Avengers often hosted casual cookouts on the compound’s spacious lawn, complete with steaks, veggie burgers, and unfortunate attempts at comedic karaoke from Tony. You and Pietro ended up manning the grill together—a recipe for comedic disaster. “I got this,” Pietro insisted confidently. He flipped burgers at record speed, so quickly that half of them landed in questionable angles on the grill.

You tried not to laugh as one burger sailed off into the grass. “Huh, I think that one tried to make a break for it.”

“Yeah, well…” Pietro pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I’ll just pick it up.” He was back in a flash, depositing the rogue burger in the trash can while giving you a sheepish grin.

Wanda breezed by, eyeing Pietro’s stumbling attempts. Leaning in close so only he could hear, she teased, “Your face is as red as hot sauce.”

He rolled his eyes. “Go away, Wanda.”

But you overheard, chuckling. “I think it’s cute,” you said lightly, hoping to ease his nerves. Immediately, Pietro dropped his spatula. It clanged onto the grill with a loud metallic thunk. He stared at it, wide-eyed, while Wanda practically had to bury her face in her hands to stifle her laughter.

Accident #3:

Pietro loved nicknames. He threw them around like confetti—“Hawky” for Clint, “Tin Man” for Tony, “Red” for Wanda. But he hadn’t come up with one for you yet. Not for lack of trying…he just kept choking on his words each time he tried.

One afternoon, you were in the common lounge, reading a book, when Pietro zoomed in, nearly knocking over a lamp in the process. He waved it off casually, muttering something about “lousy furniture placement.”

“Hey,” you greeted. “What’s up?”

“Um. Nothing. You, er, do you want to—” He exhaled in frustration. “Grab a bite to eat? Maybe see a movie?”

Your eyes lit up. “Oh! That sounds great.”

Pietro’s relieved smile nearly split his face. “Cool! That’s—great. Awesome. Perfect.” He then tried to do his usual flirty finger-gun move, but ended up accidentally pointing at Wanda behind you. Which made him look more than a little unhinged.

Wanda arched an eyebrow from the kitchen. “You see, this is painful for me. Personally, I never thought I’d watch my brother turn into…this.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at Wanda’s dramatic pity act, placing your book down. “Don’t be too hard on him,” you said, sending Pietro a fond smile.

The speedster, desperately trying to salvage his cool, opened his mouth to retort—but all that came out was a strangled cough. He quickly cleared his throat, mentally cursing himself for failing to say something suave like, I’m just dazzled by you, obviously.

Wanda decided she’d seen enough: her brother might never confess how he felt unless he got some help. She cornered you in the gym, where you were finishing up a routine. “You know my brother’s head-over-heels for you, right?” she said matter-of-factly.

You blinked in surprise, setting down a dumbbell. “I had a feeling. I…uh, like him too.” Your smile was bashful but unguarded. “He’s sweet, in his own weird, speedy way.”

Wanda smirked. “Well, I’m tired of watching him embarrass himself. Let’s do something about that.”

She proposed a plan: she’d lure Pietro to the observation deck, a quiet place perfect for stargazing, conveniently around the same time you’d be there. An accidental rendezvous, if you will. That evening, you stood on the open-air platform, staring up at the twinkling sky. The gentle wind ruffled your hair as you waited. Right on cue, Pietro arrived—though not at his usual breakneck speed. He sauntered in, probably coached by Wanda to “act normal,” though you could see the pulse in his neck beating fast.

“So,” you said, turning to face him. “Wanda said you wanted to talk?”

Pietro swallowed, his confidence visibly slipping. “I—yes, I did. But I—I didn’t know she’d, you know, ambush me like this. Not that I mind talking to you!” He paused to take a breath, clearly annoyed at himself for rambling. “Look,” he began again, more softly, “I like you. A lot.”

Your face heated at his directness. “Well, that’s good, because I feel the same way.”

The relief that flooded Pietro’s features was priceless, like he was finally able to breathe. “Seriously? Because sometimes I worry I’m, uh, coming off as a total dork—”

“Dork’s a strong word,” you teased, stepping a bit closer. “I’d say adorable.”

Pietro blinked. “Adorable? Me? That’s new.”

You laughed, the sound echoing sweetly under the stars. Without thinking, Pietro reached for your hand. Not to whisk you away at supersonic speed, but to gently lace his fingers through yours. “Maybe,” he ventured, “we could do something not orchestrated by my meddling sister? Like an actual date?”

Your nod was immediate. “I’d love that.”

When the two of you finally returned inside, hand in hand, it was as if the entire compound had been lying in wait. Clint almost dropped a bowl of popcorn in shock, while Tony paused mid-sip of his coffee, eyebrows shooting up. “Well, well,” Tony said, smirking. “Looks like Speedy finally found his voice.”

Pietro rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the grin. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Tin Man." From across the room, Wanda gave a thumbs-up, wiggling her eyebrows. You mouthed a “thank you,” and she winked.

[stargrillzz]

I hate u (but not really)

summary: She’s impulsive. He’s impossible. Teamed up on missions and constantly at each other’s throats, they’d rather fight than cooperate.

note: Im telling u, this is gonna be a series, and it’s gonna be THE BEST, ok maybe not but still kinda good. (plus, i had to edit this in my phone so if titles or shit like that are not aligned or well situated it’s bc I cannot make it any better on my phone, sorry!).xoxo

Chapter I - Chapter II - Chapter III - Chapter IV

Too young, too bitter (chapter I)

mission gone wrong, obviously his fault

“You want me to follow him?” you ask, deadpan, staring at the glowing mission tablet in your hands. “You’re joking.”

“Nope,” Natasha replies without looking up from her gear bag. “You’re on recon with Barnes. Sam and I take the northern perimeter. Steve’s running point with Wanda.”

You glance across the hangar. Bucky stands at the Quinjet, arms crossed, looking like someone just asked him to eat a salad for breakfast.

“Can’t I just—switch with Sam or something?” you plead. “I’d rather spend two hours listening to Tony explain quantum physics in Klingon than spend one more minute with his cranky ass.”

From across the hangar, Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You know I can hear you, right?”

You don’t even flinch. “Good.”

He scoffs and turns back to the Quinjet. You groan.

Later, high above the city skyline, the two of you move through the crumbling remains of an abandoned HYDRA base. You’re nimble, fast, clearing rooms ahead of him like a blur.

“You going to keep rushing ahead like a toddler on Red Bull?” Bucky mutters through comms.

“You going to keep walking like your hips are made of rust and regret?” you shoot back.

“Maybe if someone followed the damn plan—”

“Maybe if someone updated their attitude post-WWII—”

“Guys,” Natasha cuts in over comms. “Shut up.”

You both go silent.

But it doesn’t last.

In one of the darker corridors, a security turret snaps to life.

You dodge. Bucky shoots. It barely misses your shoulder.

“Are you trying to kill me?” you snap, panting behind cover.

“You jumped in front of my shot!”

“I moved like a normal person. You aimed like my grandma.”

His voice comes through low and annoyed: “If you’d stop acting like a reckless kid—”

“And if you’d stop acting like every decision is life or death, maybe we wouldn’t be stuck in this eternal pissing contest!”

There’s a pause.

“Is that what this is? A contest?” he says, dryly.

“No,” you reply, stepping out from cover, voice icy. “Because I’m already winning.”

cold war (a.k.a the pettiest show on Earth)

Back at the tower, your feud reaches a level of childish few Avengers have witnessed before.

The thermostat war begins Monday.

You like the lounge at a cool 21°C. Bucky, the 106-year-old relic of a man, insists on setting it to an unholy 25. You start changing it every time he leaves the room. He starts locking the settings.

You hack it.

He disconnects it from the Wi-Fi.

You tape a printed photo of yourself next to the controls flipping the bird with a sticky note: "This war is mine."

Tuesday, you label everything in the fridge.

Not just your food. Everything.

"YOGURT — NOT BUCKY'S"

"JUICE — MINE. NOT GRUMPY GHOST VETERAN'S."

"LEFTOVER PASTA — TOUCHED BY ME. HOPE YOU LIKE GERMS."

The next day, your stash is replaced with MREs and a Post-it that just says “Try being less annoying.”

You leave his arm polish in the freezer.

He doesn’t speak to you for two days.

things (almost) gets physical

You’re sparring in the gym. Steve pairs you up intentionally, everyone in the tower Stark can’t take anymore you two fighting and failing on missions all the time.

You glare at Bucky from across the mat. He rolls his eyes.

"You know, we could skip this,” he mutters, rolling his shoulder.

“What, afraid I’ll kick your ass?” you ask sweetly.

“I’m afraid I’ll say something you’ll cry about for three hours.”

You lunge. He blocks. You spin and catch him with a leg sweep, sending him stumbling.

He recovers fast, grabs your arm, and flips you—hard. You hit the mat with a dull thud.

“Oops,” he says, smirking.

“You’re such a child,” you hiss, wiping blood from your lip.

“Says the one who labeled her yogurt.”

You go at him again, and this time, your fight looks more like a bar brawl than training. Steve has to physically step between you, catching your wrist mid-swing.

“Okay!” he says, laughing nervously. “Let’s dial it back.”

Bucky huffs and storms off.

You’re left breathless, heart pounding—not just from the fight.

There was a moment in there.

A second where he was above you on the mat, hands gripping your wrists, your faces inches apart, and your pulse jumped for a completely different reason.

You haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

white flag

It’s a week later when you find Bucky alone on the balcony during one of Tony’s ridiculous rooftop parties. Everyone else is drinking and dancing under string lights. He’s nursing a beer, watching the city.

You don’t say anything at first. Just lean next to him, close enough to feel his presence but not close enough to be soft.

He glances at you.

You both sigh at the same time.

“I still think you’re too bitter for your own good,” you say eventually.

He chuckles. “And you’re still an immature pain in my ass.”

You clink your glass against his bottle.

“Glad we understand each other.”

He glances sideways at you, and for the first time, there’s no venom in it.

Just something... complicated.

“You’re not that bad,” he says.

You smirk. “Careful. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

You stand in silence again, this time comfortably. Maybe this cold war isn’t over. But you’ve both stopped firing missiles.

For now.

Would you like a follow-up chapter where all this tension explodes into something more intimate (or romantic), or maybe a scene where they have to pretend to get along during a mission undercover as a couple?

[lizzie-harper]

Avengers (MCU) Incorrect Quotes with Y/n!

Tony: Tell them to eat shit, Natasha.

Natasha: Tell them yourself.

Tony: Eat shit, asshole. Fall of your horse.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Vision: Here are two pictures. one of them is your room, and the other is the garbage dump.

Thor: *points at a picture* That one is the dump.

Vision: THEY'RE BOTH YOUR ROOM!

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Bucky: I scare people a lot because I walk very softly and they don't hear me enter rooms. So when they turn around, I'm just kind of there and their fear fuels me.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Clint: Do you guys ever have a civilized conversation that doesn't require insulting each other every time you get a chance?

Peter: No.

Sam: No.

Clint: Didn't think so.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Y/n: Do you have a self-care routine?

Peter: "Keep going bitch" said to myself in different accents.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Thor: How many children do you have?

Tony: Biologically, legally, or emotionally? Because there is a difference.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Y/n: How do ethical philosophers feel about murder?

Steve: Well, it’s frowned upon.

Y/n: Okay, but what if the reason you want to murder someone is to make your life easier?

Y/n: That’s okay, right?

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Wanda: New year, new me.

Dr. Strange: Bitch, it’s August.

Wanda: Time is an illusion.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Vision: Why do you think I don’t like you? I do. I would kill for you.

Vision: Ask me to kill for you.

Y/n: ...First of all, calm down-

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Peter: Strawberry milk doesn’t taste like strawberry OR milk.

Y/n: Go the fuck to sleep Peter.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Tony: Have I ever told you that you cook well?

Y/n: Awww, no, you haven't!

Tony: So why do you keep cooking?

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Peter: Yeah, we’re free thinkers.

Y/n: *starts playing Sneakernight by Vanessa Hudgens.*

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Clint: I feel so burnt out.

Bucky: Don’t worry, it'll be over soon.

Clint: Are you gonna... assassinate me?

Bucky: Well not if you’re expecting it.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Natasha, at the slightest provocation: I came into this earth screaming and covered in someone else's blood and and I'm not afraid to leave the same way.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Peter: I was going to suggest we do Marilyn Monroe and JFK roleplay, but I’d get way too into it.

Y/n: What- how?

Peter: You’d be like “come to bed … Mr. President” and I’d be like, “I need to increase the amount of American military advisors in South Vietnam by a factor of 18.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dark Energy 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff

Summary: you become a point of contention between Wanda and Steve.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Wanda knots the scarf around your neck. She smiles, her red lips glistening. She tilts her head and flicks your chin.

"Perfect," she drawls. "You know, sweet one, you would look marvelous in a shade of blue just so."

She touches the scarf, tickling your through it. You smile, "thanks. Uh..." you turn and dig through your purse.

"Antonia," she signals to the woman behind the stall, "here."

She hands over a bill before you can even find your wallet. The black-haired seller takes it with a grin. She as good as dances away to the next customer.

"Wanda, I was going to get that."

"It is my treat. It looks so marvelous. You must have it." She purrs. "Darling, did we say we would get you some cards?"

"I'll pay for those," you insist.

"Mm, oh if you wish," she grins. "Come. Ooh, I am parched," she points to a booth. "How about some tea?"

"Uhh, well..." you hesitate. There's only portapotties here and you're not the biggest fan of those. Still, it's hot and you've been wandering around for almost an hour. "Maybe a small one."

"I recommend the ginger and peach. It's very tame," she grabs your hand and drags you over. "Onyx," she greets the bald woman behind the counter. "Tea, for me and my friend. Rosehips and pomegranate for myself and..."

She pauses and looks at you as your eyes scour the small menu propped up on the counter.

"I will have the peach one," you shrug.

"Yes, peach. And do make them special." She smiles.

"Wow, you know everyone," you say as you bounce on your feet and look around.

"Ah, I know quite a few. Many of them are pretenders. They like to play at magic," she chirps.

"Oh..." you look at her again and touch the scarf as it tickles your chin.

"This and a nice little dress," she pinches the scarf again then surprises you as she frames your waist. "You have a precious figure."

"Oh, ha," you touch her wrists and gently brush her away. "Well..."

"Soft..." she winks and turns back as Onyx sets down two cups. She pays, too quick for you again.

"Thanks, I'll have to pay you back," you say as she hands you a cup.

"No, we are friends. We don't keep tally," she raises her glass. "What is it you say, 'cheers'." She knocks her cup against yours. "Enjoy."

You sip. The tea has a bit of silt to it. The flavour clings to your tongue. You choke it down as the tangy sweetness lingers.

"Mmm," you hum.

"You will get used to it," she assures. "It is all natural. Very good for your gut. Cleansing."

She turns and weaves ahead of you. You follow her at a scurry. She twines around a cluster of women all in black and she stops before a table.

"Martha," she bends to peruse the merchandise. "My friend looks for a deck."

"Oh, yes," the woman with white hair and knobby hands leans forward. Her eyes are glassy and almost all white. Can she see? "These are all hand made."

She waves her hands over the table and you look over the selection. There's a deck with black cats, another with planets and stars, others with medieval figures in finely painted scenes. Your attention sticks on the ones with birds of all kinds. Cardinals, jays, crows, and vultures.

"Ah, yes, a deck for the wise," she taps the cards and you meet her eyes. She looks right through you. "A good witch does not take beyond the buyer's needs. Pay what you can."

She takes the deck and wraps it up with brown paper and twine. She stamps it with a pentagram and sets it down. You stir around in your purse. You hold out a fifty. You weren't intending to spend more than that all day.

She takes it and feels the paper. She bends and opens a chest. She tucks away the bill and sits up. She hands you a twenty back.

"I said no more than you spend," she girds and squeezes the money into your hand.

"Thank you." You say.

"Martha, you are ever so kind," Wanda praises.

She picks up the deck and beckons you away. You follow her and keep away from the growing crowd. You look at the tide of bodies in dread.

"The air..." Wanda says. "You are not one for many people."

"Not really."

"Ah, the lonesome are the most interesting," she says and take your hand again. "Come, let's find a quiet place and I will teach you to read."

You nod. You blink and sip again. You don't know if it's the heat or the crowd, but you feel a bit off. Almost woozy.

Wanda hums a melody that seems to echo and when you look at her, her red waves are even brighter. It must be the sun. You let her drag you through the marketplace.

She leads you beyond the booths and past the trucks waiting to take them away at the end of the day. She finds a patch of grass and spreads her shawl over it. She tugs you down and unwraps the cards.

You drink again and make yourself stop as the liquid clogs your throat. You put the cup down next to hers. She shuffles the deck and tells you to cut it three times. You do then rub your palms together. You flutter your fingers up to the scarf as you feel like your choking.

You look at Wanda as she spreads the cards on the shawl. "Pick three."

You blink and sway. Her eyes are like emeralds in sunlight. You cough and giggle. Your brain feels fuzzy. You take three cards, slapping each down clumsily.

"Darling?" Wanda eyes you, her eyes catlike as she flicks her lashes. "I do not need the cards to see what you want." She gets to her knees and leans over the cards. "For I want it just the same."

Her lips meet yours and you mewl. It's like a strike of lightning. Your vision flashes and your body locks up as you can do nothing to keep her away.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Heaven-Sent

Summary: The morning after Steve and (Y/N)’s much-anticipated first time together, as shown through the eyes of a romantic and love-struck super-soldier.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Disclaimer for implied sexy times

A/N: Hi there! Since the last couple of Superhero Snapshots were on the angsty side, I figured that you guys deserved some fluff and a hint of spice, so here it is! Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Heaven-Sent November 2015 The Home of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Sam Wilson, Washington D.C. (Superhero Snapshots Masterlist)

Ignoring the super-soldier serum flowing through his veins and putting aside his role as the leader of the Avengers, Steve Rogers’ morning routine was remarkably ordinary. He was roused from his slumber by the shrill sound of his alarm clock at five-thirty and was out the door by five-forty-five, embarking on his early morning run; the others found it challenging to keep pace with him, so he often only had his battered MP3 player and its many energizing playlists for company. When he promptly returned to the Avengers Facility at seven o’clock, he took a shower and headed to their shared kitchen to whip up some breakfast just as his sleep-riddled teammates began to emerge from their suites. During missions, his morning run became his morning push-ups-and-sit-ups regiment and his breakfast usually consisted of instant coffee and granola bars, but the routine remained regardless.

That particular morning, however, Steve was slowly roused from his deep slumber by the warm rays of sunlight streaming in through the bedroom windows and the chirping of birds in the trees outside. With a content hum, he unfurled his arms from around his pillow and rolled over onto his back, bringing a hand up to rub at his sleep-filled eyes and stifle his exhausted yawn; he blinked his eyes open, momentarily surprised to find himself lounging in (Y/N)’s bed, but memories of the night before flooded his mind when he spotted some of their clothing strewn across the floor and a familiar black lace bra dangling off of the bedside lamp’s shade, prompting a love-struck grin to slowly spread across his face as he replayed the beginning of their perfect evening together…

“So…” (Y/N) slowly began, a bashful grin spreading across her face as she turned to face him and held her hands behind her back. Her (Y/E/C) eyes sparkled under the dim glow of the overhead porch light, and Steve found himself stunned by her beauty for the umpteenth time that evening; he’d done everything he could not to ogle her all throughout dinner, but the off-the-shoulder black cocktail dress hugged her curves in the most scintillating way and its daring neckline nearly brought him to his knees in the middle of the restaurant.

Steve chuckled and mirrored his girlfriend’s stance with a playful smile. “So…?”

The historical-fiction novelist took a step forward, and the look of desire in her intense gaze forced him to swallow thickly and hold his breath in anticipation. “We’ve had a wonderful evening together and I really don’t want it to end just yet, so would you like to come inside for a cup of coffee?”

“Coffee, huh?” Steve moved closer and pretended to ponder her question. “Well, it all depends, sunshine.”

(Y/N) softly bit her crimson-hued bottom lip and tilted her head to the side in faux inquisitiveness. “On?”

“Whether you’re inviting me inside for a cup of coffee…” One of Steve’s hands moved to rest on her waist while the other cupped the warm skin of her cheek, the both of them leaning in towards one another. “Or if you’ve got something else in mind.”

“You’re a very, very intelligent man, sweetheart.” The historical-fiction novelist’s breath fanned over Steve’s lips but before they could connect with hers, she flashed him a mischievous smile and slipped out of his embrace to stand at the porch railing; he grinned at her unabashed teasing and followed after her, standing behind her and wrapping his hands around the railing to cage her in between his arms “As a matter of fact, there is something else I had in mind.”

Bending down, Steve nuzzled his nose against her neck and breathed in the sweet scent of her perfume, her breath hitching when his lips purposefully brushed against her pulse point. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm,” (Y/N) hummed as she turned to face him, leaning back against the railing and looking up at him through her long lashes while a seductive smile played on her lips. “And I’ve got a feeling that you’re thinking of the same thing that I am. Would you like to know how I know?” Steve, entranced by how beautiful she looked in the pale moonlight, wet his dry lips and mutely nodded. “Because you’re looking at me like I’m the most profound revelation of your life.”

“You are…” Steve slid his arms around his girlfriend’s waist and pulled her against his chest, all too aware of her elevated heartbeat and the lustful gleam in her eyes as he met her heavy gaze. “You’re my everything, baby. My Tiny Dancer, remember?”

Bashfully smiling at his use of his special nickname for her, (Y/N) slung her arms around his neck and dreamily sighed. “Just when I think I couldn’t possibly fall any deeper in love with you, you go and say the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard and I go weak at the knees.”

“And I’ll gladly catch you each and every time, sunshine; if I could, I’d hold you in my arms forever, just like this.” Steve’s gaze flicked down to focus on her purple garnet pendant, a wave of insecurity suddenly taking hold and causing his heart to race. “For full transparency, though, I…um, I haven’t really done this since before I went into the ice. I’ve been on dates, of course, and I’ve gotten a couple of bases in but…well, no home-run this century.”

“Sweetheart, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to-”

“I do!” He hastily interrupted and blushed at his over-eagerness. “Believe me, I can’t think of anything I wanna do more than to take you inside and make love to you, but…” Taking a deep breath, Steve glanced up to meet the historical-fiction novelist’s understanding gaze. “I just want tonight to be perfect for you, and I’m afraid that it won’t be.”

(Y/N)’s eyes softened as she cupped his face between her hands and gently stroked his cheekbones with the pads of her thumbs. “But don’t you see, sweetheart? It’ll be perfect because I’ll be with you.” Steve’s heart stuttered in his chest as he stared at her in silent admiration. “Oh God, was that too cheesy? I’m-”

Steve’s lips descended onto (Y/N)’s and interrupted her rambling apology; he poured all of his love and lust for her into his kiss, holding her even tighter and reveling in the feeling of her body pressed against his. (Y/N) recovered from her surprise and eagerly reciprocated, deepening their kiss and drawing a breathy moan from him when her fingernails scraped along his scalp as her fingers carded through his hair. When they finally broke apart for some much-needed air, Steve trailed kisses along her cheek and jawline, whispering against her flushed skin, “I want this, (Y/N). I want you.”

“I want you too, Steve,” (Y/N) breathed, tilting her head to the side and drawing him closer as he pressed kisses onto the soft skin of her neck. “I think…oh, sweetheart…I-I think it’s time to take this inside before we traumatize the neighbors.”

With great reluctance, Steve pulled himself away and offered her his hand with a smile. “Lead the way, baby.”

The historical-fiction novelist latched onto his hand and practically dragged him over to the front door; when she dropped his hand to rummage through her purse for her keys, he stood behind her and rested his hands on her waist, biting his lip in amusement when she struggled to unlock the door and cursed under her breath. “You’d better not be laughing at me back there,” She warned without any real anger in her voice as she turned the key in the deadbolt. “Otherwise, this night’ll end before it’s even begun.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be on my best behavior…” The moment the front door swung open, Steve scooped (Y/N) up into his arms with ease, grinning mischievously as she burst into a flurry of surprised giggles. “Mostly.”

“Mmm, I’m counting on it.” Smirking, (Y/N) looped her arms around his neck and kissed him, and Steve lost himself in the blissful feeling of her lips on his as he carried her into the house and kicked the front door closed behind him…

With a satisfied smile on his face, Steve crossed his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, happiness blooming in his chest as he let out a content sigh. It had been the single most enjoyable night of his life – their movements fervent yet oh so gentle as they drew both sinful sounds of pleasure and bursts of shy giggles from one another, their joined hands pressed against the soft sheets as they surrendered themselves over to their desires, their shared passion finally reaching its highest crescendo as a galaxy of stars exploded in Steve’s line of vision and (Y/N) buried her face in his neck to muffle her beautiful gasps – and he couldn’t think of any other way to describe it other than divine. He hadn’t been drunk since 1942 but that night, he was intoxicated by her; her warmth, her softness, her scent, her unconditional love…everything about her drove him beyond madness, clouded his mind in the best way imaginable until only thoughts of her remained. Being with (Y/N) was the closest he’d ever felt to anyone before or after emerging from the ice, the closest he’d ever felt to heaven itself, and the culmination of their most carnal passions only confirmed what he’d known to be true for months: (Y/N) (Y/L/N), his beautiful, intelligent and courageous sunshine, was the love of his life.

Steve glanced over at (Y/N)’s vacant side of the bed and was starting to wonder where she’d gone when he heard the faint sound of his girlfriend singing along to a cheerful ‘60’s Motown song in the kitchen; the smell of maple syrup and pancakes drove any lingering immodest thoughts from his mind as his stomach growled, and he huffed out a quiet laugh before getting up to slip his boxers on and quietly padding down the hallway. When he reached the kitchen, he leaned a shoulder against the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest, a familiar warmth blooming in his chest as he studied his girlfriend from afar.

The historical-fiction novelist hadn’t noticed his presence, too engrossed in flipping pancakes on the griddle and singing along to the lively song that was playing from Sam’s stereo system; she was wrapped in a satin cherry blossom-patterned robe and a cheery smile illuminated her features as she sang, a smile that adorably widened when she flipped a pancake high into the air and successfully caught it on its descent with a plate while she swayed to the upbeat tempo. With the ongoing editing of her second soon-to-be released novel and the added stress of balancing their blossoming relationship with his unpredictable mission schedule, it was good to see her so relaxed and carefree for a change, and Steve couldn’t help but feel a surge of masculine pride for the part he played in her cheerful mood.

“Now this funny feeling has me amazed, don’t know what to do, my head’s in a haze, it’s like a heat wave! Yeah yeah, yeah-” (Y/N) twirled around in a circle and yelped in surprise when she finally noticed Steve, almost dropping the heaping plate of pancakes but quickly stopping herself as she flashed him a sheepish smile. “Um…surprise! It’s no secret that I’m not the best cook in the world, but I do know how to read the instructions on the back of the Krusteaz bag and I figured your super-soldier stomach was in need of sustenance, so I hope that you like pancakes.”

Steve hadn’t woken up with the expectation of getting emotional over a plate of slightly-overdone pancakes but there he was, standing in the messy kitchen with his eyes stinging and a lump forming in his throat as his kindhearted girlfriend beamed at him. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had made him breakfast – or any meal, for that matter – and while he’d always thrived as a caretaker to others and valued his independence, a part of him always wondered what it would feel like to be the one being taken care of for a change. I don’t think I’ll ever have to wonder again, he thought to himself as his smile slowly widened. He crossed the kitchen, his hands gently cupping her cheeks and angling her face upwards to give her a tender kiss, pulling away with great reluctance and finally finding his voice. “I love pancakes. Thank you, sunshine.”

(Y/N)’s eyes softened as she smiled back, and it was clear to see that she understood the implications behind his appreciation. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” She handed him the plate and nodded towards the stools at the kitchen counter. “Now, dig in before they get cold while I finish making mine.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Chuckling, Steve took a seat and began pouring a liberal amount of maple syrup over his pancakes while (Y/N) dolloped more thick batter onto the hot griddle. “So, did you…um, did you have a good night?”

Steve mentally kicked himself for sounding so awkward but his girlfriend thankfully took his discomfort in stride. “I had a fantastic night, actually.” She tipped some coffee into her ‘Professional Bookworm’ mug and slid it across the counter towards him, and Steve caught the apprehension that quickly flashed across her face when her eyes timidly met his. “And you?”

“It was perfect, sunshine. You were perfect,” Steve assured her, his hand reaching across the counter to rest atop hers as he continued. “Trust me, I’m not exaggerating when I say that last night was the best night of my life.”

(Y/N) self-consciously ducked her head at his earnest words and affectionate tone and Steve’s heart swelled at the sight. He started on his breakfast while she finished preparing hers, unable to keep the content smile off his face and unwilling to take his eyes off the historical-fiction novelist as she worked; she seemed to be having a similar dilemma herself, nearly dropping the bottle of orange juice at one point and being forced to rescue a pancake from a charred fate not too long after, all because she’d been distracted by his smiles and heated gaze. When she took a seat beside him at the counter, her bare knee brushed against his and sent a pleasant jolt up his spine, the pleased smirk playing on her lips confirming that she knew exactly what sort of affect she had on him; It took me ninety-seven years, but I finally understand what it means to see heaven on earth, he thought as he smiled contentedly into his coffee mug.

“Can I ask you a question, sweetheart?”

Steve looked up from his pancakes to see an endearingly inquisitive expression gracing his girlfriend’s features. “Of course.”

“When did you finally…seal the deal?” (Y/N) inquired; there was no trace of jealousy in her tone or resentment in her eyes, only innocent curiosity. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I was just wondering whether it happened before or after Project Rebirth.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind answering, sunshine.” Shrugging his shoulders, Steve took another bite of food and downed it with another sip of coffee before answering. “It was after; I’m pretty sure my asthma alone would’ve killed me if I tried doin’ anything like what we did last night before the serum.” She giggled a little at that and he felt himself starting to blush as he continued. “Yeah, it happened while I was on that damn USO tour of America in the summer of ‘43. We’d just finished up a show in Buffalo when one of the chorus girls found me hiding out backstage and asked me if I wanted a drink; from there, one thing led to another and then…” He chuckled to himself. “It was okay, I guess, and Joanie was nice enough but after a few weeks of sneakin’ around with her, I decided that I’d rather just wait for the right partner and we decided to break it off. Besides Joanie, you’re the only other woman I’ve ever gone all the way with.” (Y/N) nodded in understanding and Steve was suddenly filled with a little curiosity himself. “Is it okay to ask about your-?”

“Of course it is, Steve!” The historical-fiction novelist quickly reassured him, resting her hand on his forearm and giving him an encouraging smile. “Two of the best things about the twenty-first century is the rejection of purity culture and the encouragement of open communication within relationships. My first time was during my freshman year of college, with my boyfriend Travis; just as we were getting into it, he smacked his head on the corner of my dresser and had to get four stitches at the E.R., so I suppose you could say that it was a night to remember.”

Steve winced. “Please tell me it got better from there.”

“With Travis? Nope, that asshat dumped me a week later with the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, but there were a couple of other guys after him. I dated Kenneth throughout my first year of grad school – he was sweet, but our masters degrees took us in two different directions and we decided to call it quits – and I went on a couple of dates with Marc, a Marine between deployments I met when I went out for drinks with Sam at Barracks Row; we both knew it wasn’t anything serious and while he was a perfect gentleman, I could tell that he was struggling with some personal issues and wasn’t really in the right mindset for a relationship. A couple of months after Marc and I went our separate ways, my dumb-ass roommate decided to try and race Captain America around the National Mall and…” She took another bite of her pancakes and gave him a flirtatious wink. “Well, here we are.”

“Here we are,” Steve repeated with a bashful grin that widened as his super-soldier hearing picked up her elevated heartbeat and warming skin.

The two of them enjoyed the rest of their breakfast together, listening to Sam’s Motown CD and chatting about anything and everything that came to their minds. When they finished eating, Steve offered to clean the whole kitchen himself but after a lighthearted debate regarding the unspoken rules of hospitality, he reluctantly agreed to wash the dishes while (Y/N) dried and put them away. The historical-fiction novelist sang along to each song that played without missing a single lyric and Steve even found himself humming along while they worked, smiling to himself as he reveled in the charming domesticity of it all; for the briefest of moments, he allowed his eyes to drift closed and he worked to commit their perfect morning to memory, not wanting to forget a single moment of it. I’d give everything I have if it meant I could spend every morning of the rest of my life like this, he silently admitted to himself, opening his eyes to steal another glance at (Y/N) and finding himself admiring the way she practically glowed under the morning sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window.

After rinsing the last of the soap suds down the drain, Steve switched the faucet off and turned away from the sink. “There, all done. You know, we make a pretty good dishwashing duo-”

Steve’s words were abruptly cut off when (Y/N)’s hands cradled his face and she pulled him close before crashing her lips against his, causing him to grunt in surprise as his hands landed on her waist to stabilize her. The softness of her lips on his coupled with the taste of maple syrup caused Steve’s mind to go blank, and his eyes slid closed in bliss while he returned her tender kiss; his arms wrapped around her waist and when he tugged her closer, she gasped against his lips and he chuckled before kissing her with renewed passion. While one of his arms held her securely against him, his other hand slid up her satin-covered curves and caressed her cheek, her flushed skin nearly scorching the pad of his thumb as it skimmed the length of her cheekbone. With a pleased hum, the historical-fiction novelist buried a hand into his mussed hair, the feel of her nails scratching along his scalp forcing him to suppress his desperate moan; his efforts were immediately dashed when her other hand sneakily found a home at the back of his boxers and playfully squeezed.

“Christ, baby,” Steve groaned against her smiling lips as a spark of desire igniting within him. In an instant, he lifted her up with ease and set her down onto the kitchen island before trailing kisses along the exposed column of her throat, murmuring against her heated skin, “You’re kind of a tease, you know that?”

(Y/N) giggled as his lips latched onto the delicate patch of skin just below her jawline. “It’s not my fault that you’ve got one fine ass, sweetheart. I was simply admiring a masterpiece.”

Reluctantly drawing away from her neck, Steve’s head tilted to the side as he studied his breathless girlfriend, a loving smile spreading across his face that was accompanied by the smallest of head-shakes. “The only masterpiece I see is sittin’ right in front of me, sunshine.” (Y/N) beamed and her eyes shone with tender affection as she leaned forward and kissed the bridge of his nose; Steve’s hands firmly grasped her waist, fingers flexing along the soft satin of her robe when she initiated another passionate kiss and his need for her growing stronger with every caress of her lips.

Before either of them could deepen their kiss, the buzzing of Steve’s cell phone filled the kitchen and abruptly brought them back to reality. (Y/N), nearly panting as she rested her forehead against his and unwound her arms from around his neck, flashed him a dazed sort of smile and nodded. “Go ahead and get that, I’ll just sit here and catch my breath.”

Steve chuckled, giving her another kiss before crossing into the living room to retrieve his crumpled slacks he’d discarded on the floor the night before; fishing his cell phone out of his pocket, his brow furrowed when he saw Natasha’s name appear on the screen and he quickly answered the call. “Nat?”

“Wow, someone sounds a little crabby this morning. Sleepless night?”

Steve’s eyes flicked over to (Y/N), who’d hopped down from the counter and was going along scooping up the trail of clothes that led to her bedroom, and he smiled to himself before answering, “Yeah, something like that. What’s up?”

“We’ve got a lead on Adrien Pullman, one of Rumlow’s mercenary friends; our intel puts him and his crew in a safe house about five miles outside of San Juan.”

“How fresh is this intel?”

“Farm-fresh. It’s your call, Steve, but I don’t know when we’re gonna get another chance like this.”

Leaning against the back of the couch, Steve ran his free hand through his hair as he weighed the situation, ultimately coming to the conclusion that the spy was correct. “All right, we’ll go. Get Sam and Wanda up to speed on Pullman and his crew, and I’ll meet you guys at JBA in an hour.”

“Will-do. Oh, and tell (Y/N) I said hi!”

“I-wait, how’d you know I was with…?”

“I’m a trained spy, Steve; you’ve got that ‘I got laid last night and I’m wasting the morning away basking in the glory of my smoking-hot author girlfriend’ lilt in your voice.” Natasha’s blunt explanation caused Steve to blush and she snickered. “And I’ll bet you anything that you look like an heirloom tomato right now. See you in an hour, and don’t forget to wear protection!”

Steve’s blush darkened as the spy abruptly ended the call, and he tossed his cell phone onto the couch before chuckling at himself; ninety-seven years old and I’m blushing like a goddamn teenager, he silently observed, a smile reluctantly forming on his lips at the absurdity of his circumstances. “Steve?” He glanced up to see (Y/N) standing in front of him, their clothes slung over her arm and a concerned frown on her face. “Everything okay?”

“A last-minute mission to Puerto Rico just came up, and I’ve gotta be at Joint Base Andrews in an hour.” He offered her an apologetic look and reached out to take her free hand. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I was really looking forward to spending the day with you.”

With an understanding smile, the historical-fiction novelist leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss onto his forehead, waiting until his gaze met hers to speak. “Sweetheart, I’m dating Captain America; last-minute missions and cancelled plans are pretty much a given in your profession, and I’d be naïve not to understand that by now. All that matters to me is that after Cap gives ‘em hell out there, Steve Rogers comes home safe to me.”

If Steve hadn’t been leaning against the back of the couch, his girlfriend’s sweet sincerity and the kindhearted gleam in her (Y/E/C) eyes would’ve instantly made him go weak at the knees; instead, he brought their joined hands up to his lips and pressed a reverent kiss onto her knuckles before breaking out into a dopey smile. “You’re heaven-sent, you know that?”

“Funny, that’s exactly what I was thinking about you,” (Y/N) softly replied, kissing the bridge of his nose and giggling when his face scrunched up at the ticklish sensation. “C’mon, super-soldier, I’ll drive you to Joint Base Andrews after we take a shower.”

Steve’s brow shot up in surprise. “We?”

“I, um…well, yes? Y-You know, you’re right, that was a little presumptuous of me, just forget I said anything-”

(Y/N)’s anxious rambling was cut off when Steve surged forward and captured her lips in a searing kiss; the pile of clothes were unceremoniously dropped onto the ground and her arms wrapped around his neck as she returned his kiss with equal enthusiasm. When a lack of air forced them apart, Steve smirked roguishly at (Y/N) as she worked on catching her breath. “I’ve never showered with a beautiful dame before, but I’ve always wanted to.”

The historical-fiction novelist hummed in playful interest. “Is that so? Well, we should really remedy that, shouldn’t we?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve agreed and with a teasing grin, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bathroom while their lips pressing together in a ravenous kiss.

Arriving at Joint Base Andrews over fifteen minutes late, Steve said his goodbyes to (Y/N) at the main gate and jogged across the tarmac to the Quinjet, where Natasha and Sam were impatiently waiting on the aircraft’s extended ramp and a bored Wanda was levitating his vibranium shield into the air with her powers. Sam ribbed him for his uncharacteristic tardiness, eying the fading love bite on his neck with a mixture of pride and apprehension, his sibling-like relationship with (Y/N) no doubt conflicting with his happiness for him, and Wanda handed over his shield before reaching into her pocket and withdrawing a ten dollar bill, which Natasha smugly accepted as they trooped up the ramp. Steve was unfazed by his teammates’ behavior, entirely consumed with thoughts of (Y/N) and the passion-filled morning they’d shared; it looks like we’ve created a much more pleasurable morning routine to stick to, he smiled to himself, changing into his uniform and whistling a light-hearted tune all the while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I've tried writing smut several times over the years, and I've pretty much accepted that this is as close as I'll ever get to giving you guys spice lol thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5 

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist 

Stumblin’ In Book VI: “Endgame” Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @fanficfandomlove @momc95 @savedbystyle @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @mads-weasley @username23345 @crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @crowleysqueenofhell @mary1raven @groovy-lady @ljej95 @toostrangerkid @prettysbliss

[wandamaximilf]

Make Me Feel Something Pt. 2

pairing: wanda maximoff + y/n ; natasha romanoff + y/n

warnings: 18+, drinking, kissing, hurt, angst

summary: things don't go exactly as planned after your night with wanda, and you're left alone to deal with the aftermath of it all admist being an avenger– or so you thought.

it had been about four days since the night you told wanda about vision’s hidden transgressions. four days since you had finally felt a reprieve in your longing for your best friend. four days since you had heard a single word from wanda.

the compound felt like walking on pins and needles, a burning silence ever since. what stung even more was witnessing wanda and vision walking around the compound seemingly unphased by what had unfolded. a part of you wondered if wanda had even taken a chance to confront vision on what you told her you’d seen– or what you too had done. yet, it seemed void regardless. 

any time you saw the two interacting, wanda still wore a small smile and continued to laugh sheepishly when vision teased her or murmured something into her ear. it was almost growing irritating for you to witness. most of all, it gave you a dull ache in your chest for the fact that wanda had begun to act as if you didn’t exist. nevertheless, you did your best to ignore the two any time they were near your vicinity. 

on this specific morning, now five days since that night, the sun had just barely began to crest over the horizon. you had already settled on one of the couches in the living area of the compound to relax in the silence. for a moment, you took a chance to watch the sun inch higher and higher before turning your attention to the book in your hands. right now, everything else ebbed away, your mind swirling with the words off the page as you enjoyed the silence and peace.

about an hour had passed by now but ,not long enough, before you heard a familiar voice— one that only now irritated you. 

“dear, would you like a coffee?” vision’s voice almost made you want to wretch, your eyes picking up from the page to focus on him entering the kitchen. familiar locks of fiery orange came into view behind him, “i wouldn’t say no,” wanda wore a beaming smile on her lips, even though her features still read tired from having just woken up. her eyes were fully locked to vision, unaware of your presence a few feet away from them.

“very well,” vision nodded, offering an animatronically playful smile, “would you care for cinnamon in it?” he held up a spice bottle, and immediately even you noted that it was far too red in color to be cinnamon. not very smart for a walking ai.

“vis, that’s paprika,” wanda’s tongue pronounced the spice in her accent, unable to shake it still on certain words. a hearty laugh followed her statement, eyes drifting down as she did, before opening them once again and finally noticing you in the background of their own little world they were in. 

the smile on her face didn’t fade right away, as if forgetting the distance she’d created between the two of you. after a breath, the smile pulled into a tight line, like the one you offer when you pass a stranger on the street. her eyes hesitated on you for a moment, and you didn’t so much as offer any expression before turning your attention back to your book. you could almost feel the brief flitter of disappointment and embarrassment on wanda’s face as you outright ignored her.

“ah, this one,” vision pulled wanda’s attention back to him as she acted as if that awkward moment with you never happened as she laughed once again.

“yes, that’s the one, dear,” the pet name made your blood boil, and the words on the page seemed to jumble from your inability to focus on them.

“look who’s up already!” the voice finally snapped you back to reality, a breath of relief washing over you that someone else was finally in the vicinity.

before you could offer a response, the complete weight of natasha’s ass on your waist sent you hurdling forward to catch your breath. the redhead only beamed at the reaction, leaning back almost in jest as if she were completely lax despite your discomfort. “why you up so early?” her voice was tentative, but still playful as she shifted her weight further against your pelvis. 

you groaned as you tried to find reprieve in the pressure before snapping her a soft glare, “i was trying to enjoy the peace,” your lips pull into a tight line as you raise a brow, “which apparently is short lived.”

natasha flashed a toothy grin as she finally rose off of you, allowing you to readjust and gather your breath. green eyes stared down at you as she stood above, the orange light of the rising sun just lighting one side of her features. her tan skin looked momentarily darker and a part of you found yourself looking a few seconds longer.

wanda’s laugh in the distance distracted you, which was probably a good thing before natasha teased you about staring too long at herself. your mind was always fully focused on wanda, that a part of you in this moment regretted not paying much mind to romanoff. she’d always been present in the moments that you needed a shoulder to lean on and even had listened to your rants about wanda and vision in the past. you briefly felt guilty for making her possibly feel as a second option friend.

“ignore them,” natasha spoke, her voice an octave higher this time as if to intentionally allow wanda and vision to hear. it made you smile faintly, amused by the lack of care she had in order to support you. you could feel wanda’s stare on the both of you, and did note that the two grew slightly quieter as they continued about in the kitchen.

“look, we have that party for our investors or some shit tonight,” natasha continued, “and i could really use a friend’s help on deciding which outfit to wear.”

you closed the book in your hands, placing it on the small coffee table behind your head, knowing you wouldn’t be reading any further at this point. “i don’t think i’m gonna go to that,” you managed, sitting up slightly to better give natasha your focus. 

natasha feigned a weak groan, “oh stop, if i have to entertain tony’s rich friends, so do you!” before you could counter, the redhead’s fingers wrapped around your upper arm closest to her. with one firm tug, she yanked you from the couch and you had to stumble quickly to find your footing. 

with an exaggerated sigh, you obliged her, “fine.” if anything it would be a good distraction for you to spend some time with natasha, even though the last thing you wanted right now was to go to a party tonight and be social. 

natasha beamed, nodding in the direction of her quarters as you offered her a faint smile, following in suit behind her. she really was undeniably a great friend to you, someone that was always in your corner when you needed it. you had known her longer than wanda at this point, she was the one that trained you after all to even be able to work in some capacity for the avengers. maybe this truly would be good for you, to make you feel anything else but the hurt of wanda’s silence and ultimately the loss of a friend.

as you two managed your way past the kitchen, you were able to notice out of the corner of your eye wanda’s eyes boring down on the both of you. a part of you found solace that she seemed to harbor some jealousy in the moment. regardless, you went along your way, eyes focused primarily on natasha. 

“so, it’s either this one,” natasha held up a black dress, rather narrow with a sharp v-cut at the neck that looked as though it would go as low as past her sternum. it looked too small to even fit over your thigh, and a part of you wondered if it would even fit natasha despite her fit physique. “or the red, hanging on the closet door over there,” you looked at the satin red dress hanging, the bottom perpendicular to the floor because of the length and where she hung it. it was arguably just as nice of a dress, but looked slightly less revealing. 

“urm–” you hesitated, almost unaware yourself as to which she should choose, garnering only disappointment from natasha. “i mean, they’re both really pretty…uh–” you were never great at picking outfits for others out, let alone yourself. but you knew well enough that black, red, yellow, or purple, natasha would look good in anything. she had that confidence about herself.

“fine,” natasha admitted briskly, hands falling to the hem of her sleep shirt, “i’ll try both.” your eyes studied her movements for only a second, her hands grasping the hem and beginning to yank her shirt up and over her head. you barely saw the bottom hills of her bare breasts before you sharply turned around with a gasp, “natasha!”

“what?” natasha quipped, as if completely surprised by your outburst, “it’s really not a big deal, y/n. have you not seen boobs before?” the question made her belly laugh, as you heard her begin to shimmy out of her sweats. 

“no, i- i mean yes, i have, but,” the fumbling over your words only seemed to prove the point of you being slightly flustered. you had never fantasized about natasha in that way, at least, not since wanda had come around. it almost seemed wrong that you hadn’t, considering how picture perfect natasha seemed. still, you had always noticed steve or bucky in her presence, flirting with her and natasha going along with it. her reactions made you assume she would never have the interest in you– or another woman at that rate.

“i’m just being respectful,” you shrugged, waiting for some kind of ‘okay’ once she was dressed. 

natasha chuckled lowly again, that faint hoarseness in her tone alluring as you rocked on your heels in slight impatience. 

“okay, you baby, i’m dressed,” natasha voiced, anticipation in her tone. you waited a beat, to make sure you heard her standing still before turning back to face her. 

you stilled, taking a breath to take the sight of the dress in. of course, you wanted to give her your honest opinion, but the warmth pooling in your stomach told you this might be a biased opinion. the black dress clung to her, almost looking like a second skin. it accentuated her features, small hips, a toned stomach, and without sounding inconsiderate, perfectly holding her breasts in place. the v-cut was just as deep as you had imagined, the bottom of it stopping just short of the bottom of her sternum. embarrassingly, before you could stop yourself, your eyes couldn’t help but notice the faint hill of her nipples poking against the thin material.

immediately, you snapped your gaze up to natasha’s awaiting gaze. although, despite your already guilty expression, she decided to tease you further, “sorry, it’s quite cold with nothing on but this right now.” you shot her a soft glare, but continued on as if that hadn’t happened.

“it looks really nice, nat, i like it,” you stated calmly, trying not to sound too biased despite your previously wandering gaze.

“nice? nice?” natasha stepped towards you, making you raise a brow in question, “come on, y/n, you’re as helpful as barnes and rogers.” the disappoint in her eyes made you somewhat sad yourself. 

“you look beautiful, nat, seriously,” you tried again, and this time natasha flashed you a slight smile. 

“that’s better, good girl” she finished with a grin of jest, reaching around to begin to unzip herself. 

the pet name that fell from natasha’s lips momentarily made your stomach heat up even more, but you did your best to push it away as you admired the dress once more. you tired to avoid the small bumps stretching against the material, but natasha didn’t seem to mind the short glimpse. maybe you really had overlooked natasha in the presence of wanda, leaving only another wash of guilt to fall over you. but still, you didn’t know natasha to have been with any women before, only men. you weren’t going to let yourself get in the position to crush on a straight girl– again.

“let me put on the oth-” natasha began but you briskly cut her off. 

“NO!,” it came out much louder and brisker than you intended, and it seemed to have caught the redhead off guard as she froze, “i mean, no, the black– it’s perfect.”

natasha studied you for a second or two before offering a large smile, “okay, thank you, y/n. Black it is.” 

“you wanna help me out of this now?” nat jested, her smile turning into a wide smirk. 

“shut up,” you spoke as firm as you could, but the laugh that elicited from her told you she was just as unserious as you.

“i better see you tonight,” natasha nodded at you, beginning to shrug the straps of the dress off her shoulders. 

“goodbye, nat!” all you received in response was another chuckle as you let yourself out of her bedroom. 

the music was unnecessarily loud, seemingly vibrating the entire upper floor of the avenger’s tower. between the loud bustle of the city driving to the party, and now the incessant music, you swore you could already feel a headache coming on. 

a mix of nausea had also begun to accompany the slight drill in your temple when you spotted wanda and vision mingling amongst tony’s friends. vision’s arm was wrapped firmly around her waist, fingers tugging her hip every so often to show affection. the same hips you had held up a few nights ago. wanda’s smile was as big as ever, whether it was all for show for these investors or not, it still stung.

you found yourself growing rather impatient awaiting natasha now. you’d been here for about thirty minutes, and she had yet to show. so you stood silently, off to the corner, seated at the bar, playing with the straw of your old fashioned. maybe it would be best if you just went home at this point, you were already out of your league in a red strapless dress with a blazer over top. you hadn’t worn a dress since maybe your high school prom, and that was just a guesstimation. 

just as you were about to swallow back the last bit of liquor in your glass, the ding of the elevator made you lift your attention. a wave of relief washed over you, watching natasha emerge. her dress was just as exceptional as this morning, almost more alluring in the dim lighting of this room. as distracted as you were admiring,  it took you a blip to notice her arm hooked in steve’s. 

for a moment, you felt a wave of jealousy wash over you, though you had no reason to. you never were jealous of rogers before, but now that he was attached to natasha, you felt that unwanted pang. he was as dolled up as her, in a black suit and tie, and the eyes of the room seemed to be on them for a second before the mingling began once again. guess you couldn’t blame them, it must be a sight to see black widow and captain america arm-in-arm.

you kept your eyes glued to natasha, hoping maybe she’d feel your gaze. she looked undoubtedly beautiful, and for once wanda was nothing but a backroom thought in your mind right now.

“y/n!” nat’s voice seemed to ring louder than the music to you, a gentle reprieve as you watched her make a beeline to you. locks of red fell just slightly past her collarbones, bouncing slightly as she speedwalked over. 

“an old fashioned, how– old man of you,” natasha laughed lightly, and you rolled your eyes at her statement.

“oh whatever, it’s the only thing strong enough that i can stomach right now to get me through the night,” you waited on the next statement, as if it would be wrong to say, but you continue, “waiting for you to get here.

natasha offered a genuine smile, her eyes soft as if appreciating the fact you were seemingly only here for her at this point. “well, you can rest, i’m here,” the statement seemed even more supportive, but getting promptly cut off as steve approached the two of you.

“ladies, he managed, polite as ever which only made you seem more irritated with him.

“how about some shots?” natasha beamed at steve’s idea, and you nod in agreeance. steve countered by  shooting you a short smile as if to acknowledge your presence once again, to which you returned the gesture. it wasn’t that you didn’t like steve rogers, he really was a genuine person, but something about seeing him with nat this time brought a new sense of insecurity. 

natasha smiled at you eagerly, her hand giving a soft touch on your shoulder for reassurance. you appreciated her support, looking at her genuinely with only a faint smile but holding her gaze. the blue in her eyes seemed darker under the dim light, but there were still flecks that seemed more crystalized when the light of the bar danced off her iris. steve seemed a distant shadow right now, paying more heed to the bartender passing him the shots.

“one for you, and one for you!” steve gave a half smile as handed natasha and yourself a shot glass. you grimaced upon seeing the alcohol inside, putting your nose to the glass and taking a quick smell. the scent immediately hit you, nose scrunching in disgust.

“not vodka…” you whined, looking to nat and steve with furrowed brows. you and vodka had a bit of a rough past, especially the following night of you and wanda’s trist.

“sh–” natasha used her free hand to usher the shot glass up to your lips, “you’re with me now and this’ll take the edge off.” you wanted to rebuttal, but her smile and nod of reassurance made you comfortable enough to oblige. something about the way she used herself as support for you always made the familiar feeling in your stomach return.

“and me!” steve blurted, seemingly trying to keep himself in a part of the conversation. natasha and you both looked at him, smiling as if to not make him feel out of the loop. 

“ваше здоровье!” natasha exclaimed, immediately taking back the harsh drink with steve following suit. you didn’t hesitate this time, anything that would help you get through tonight would be a blessing. as soon as the vodka hit your tastebuds you grimaced again, swallowing it back with disdain. natasha looked unphased taking it back, but even steve had a slight scrunch in his nose from the sharp taste. 

“that’s awful,” your body shivered, as if conveying even more your dislike for the choice of alcohol. 

natasha only chuckled at the both of you, steve having nodded to share his disapproval as well– despite him being the one who ordered it. you took the second of peace to glance your friend over once more. the piercings in her ears were still in place (despite her formal attire), something you always found attractive when it came to natasha. you had a thing for piercings after all, and you’d be damned to deny she didn’t pull that many off. as your eyes wandered lower you could’ve sworn a part of you felt nat glimpse your wandering gaze, but steve occupied her in pointing out who tony’s aquaintances were. 

the edges of her breasts were just slightly exposed from the sides of the v-cut on her dress, tantalizing as they were, you immediately snapped your gaze away before mentally noting how her skin looked still deeply tan against the black material. 

steve and natasha were distracted in conversation, thankfully. natasha was smiling and laughing along to his jokes about the random men in the room. in the back of your line of sight you caught a shot of wanda looking in your direction. for the first time, she actually held your gaze when she’d noticed you spotted her. you stared back for just a moment, a moment that felt like an hour, with an unreadable expression on your face. instead of allowing wanda the pleasure, you were the first to break eye contact, ignoring the way her face looked pained once again, of which it had no right to. 

“come on, let me introduce you,” steve nudge natasha, taking her hand in his to pull her towards the crowd of people. natasha glanced to you, almost apologetically, “are you gonna be okay? i’ll be back in a few, i promise,” you couldn’t help but look to their hands, fingers laced tightly together. now you knew, you came to the conclusion that her and steve were more than just friends and comrades at this point. that must have been why she had no care for you to see her unclothed. you were merely a ‘girlfriend’, a girl that’s a friend. the last thing you needed was to even begin to fantasize anything between you and natasha and find yourself hurting once again.

“yeah, yeah, i’ll be fine, go enjoy,” you forced a smile, one that looked as genuine as it could. natasha seemed to hesitate, but smiled before turning away. 

your eyes followed them both, for only a second or two, their hands still laced together. it made the vodka in your stomach turn over, almost chasing back up your throat. you shift in the barstool, turning your vision away from everyone else and watching the condensation form a ring around your old fashioned you had abandoned. this night seemed to only become worse as it went along, your rising jealousy about natasha unwarranted and wanda still wrapped in the arms of a man who was disinterested in her.

“another one?” the bartender arched a brow as he wiped his hands in a towel before throwing it over his shoulder. you looked at your pretty much empty glass, debating. it was inevitable to make it through this entire night, but one more drink on tony’s tab also couldn’t hurt. “sure, please.”

it had been about an hour and forty-five minutes since you’d last spoken with natasha– and steve. she had been swept away into conversation after conversation and who could blame them. the famous savior that was “black widow”, of course her looks didn’t sway any of them at the slightest either. sometimes you would catch her looking to your direction, mouthing the word ‘sorry’ and holding up a finger to signify one more minute. it was especially irritating watching steve touch natasha any time he had the chance, still you waited. 

but minutes had turned to hours, and you were nearing your wait time of putting up with this commotion. you hadn’t been around this many people in days, mostly confined to your bedroom with a bottle of alcohol to drown the sound of wanda and vision in the compound. natasha was really the only one you’d spoken to, even her desperately texting you to come out or if you needed anything. she was still there.

the sound of wanda’s laugh cut through the crowd, and even knowing it unwise, you looked towards her direction. vision was coddling her near the staircase, trying to be discreet amongst the company as he shushed her. 

he leaned in, talking softly as he did so, your blood running immediately cold. his lips pressed to wanda’s, making the familiar feeling of what that felt like resurface the hurt. the vodka began to test you, making your stomach twirl, and at that point you decided that you’d had enough.

you pushed yourself off the stool, the wood slightly shrieking under the pressure. this entire room had begun to make your head spin more. between the vibration of the music or the overly loud voices of everyone trying to make themselves audible over it, you didn’t know what was worse. 

there wasn’t a care in the world at this point that you left early, or that you hadn’t waited long enough. natasha seemed plenty happy with steve in her presence, and it wasn’t necessary for you to be there at this point. you didn’t even glimpse natasha’s or wanda’s direction as you approached the elevator.

as the elevator dinged on arrival, you sighed in relief at finally being able to escape all of this. you stepped inside, head still slightly dizzy. although, you couldn’t pinpoint if it was the alcohol or from the overwhelming emotion. you placed your back against the elevator wall, head falling back with a heavy exhale at the final peace as the doors began to close.

just before they sealed shut, you could hear the doors freeze in place. your eyes snapped open, looking at the hand protruding between the doors as they drew open once again. for a moment your stomach sunk, unaware of who it was until locks of red finally came into full view. your heart felt as though it finally began to beat once again as she stepped through the doors. 

“y/n…” she started, but when she saw the annoyance in your features, she made sure to reach for the button to close the doors once again.

the elevator lurched back to life, descending to the floor that housed the smaller living quarters. it wasn’t as grand as your bedrooms at the compound, but it would do for the night. 

“where do you think you’re going?” natasha questioned, still standing in front of you as you stood against the wall. 

“to sleep,” you manage, observing her in silence. she was studying you for a moment as if confused by your shortness.

you could hear it in your tone as well, but you were too emotionally exhausted and churning with alcohol to remember. so you added, “i didn’t even think you would notice, if i’m being honest, thought i was quite discreet.”

“i’m sorry,” the redhead began, stepping towards you, “i kept getting cut off and then brought to other people, i just got tied up.” you only seemed to shrink further against the back wall, as if you didn’t want her to approach you further, but you also didn’t want her to feel guilt for something she was unaware of.

“don’t apologize, please, i just want to sleep, nat,” a sigh passed between your lips, too tired to even drag this conversation further.

“you weren’t going to say anything?” natasha continued, pushing you. 

“nat– don’t,” you tried again, tired and growing more irritated. she was only trying to help, but she was now one of the last you wanted to see with a foggy mind.

“y/n, please… i only came because of you–”

“okay, stop!” the velocity of your tone nearly made natasha jump, but she only studied you with worry and confusion, “you came with rogers, you were with him all night. to say you came for me and then leave me at the bar to watch wanda and vision all over each other all night. i didn’t even want to come! i came because you asked me too!”

natasha froze, clenching her jaw as if irritated by your outburst and the mention of wanda, but also understanding of the reaction. “y/n…”

“instead, i watched you and him all night. you could’ve told me you two were going together as a couple first!” you snapped, continuing over her and finally coming clean. you didn’t know if it was the alcohol making you ramble, or if you were just sick of being in a position of use for people.

just then the elevator slammed on its breaks, a slight bell ringing out as it did to signify its stoppage. when you finally looked up, you noticed natasha’s hands pulling away from the red ‘STOP’ button below the floor levels. her face read disapproval and now you felt guilty for even opening your mouth. 

“i didn’t come as a couple with rogers, y/n,” she began, arms falling to her sides, “steve wanted it to appear that way for the media rats and investors in the room, don’t ask me why. and if anything, steve is always the one trying to make it more than it is, i’ve made that abundantly clear to him time and time again. i asked you to come because i wanted to be here with you, to be here for you.”

natasha caught you off guard by the omission, “could’ve fooled me, you were hand in hand all night.” you knew the response was petty, even after the genuinity from her.

you stepped forward briskly and reached for the button on the elevator to resume its descent, but natasha was quicker. she wrapped her hand around your wrist as gently, but swiftly, as she could to not hurt you. the longer you were in this space, the more overwhelming it was becoming. the vodka was making you flush and your stomach was swirling especially with natasha’s previous words of admittance. 

any time you tried to snap out of her grasp, natasha denied it. if anything she only stepped forward to pressure you further to return to the back wall of the elevator again. 

“y/n, who was there for you all these past nights, hm?” the redhead stepped forward again, “who tried to get you out of that dark headspace?” the questions made you relax your features slightly, knowing all too well natasha was hinting at herself and was right. yet with each question, she drew closer to you, “who left the party, to check on you?”

the last question made the full wash of guilt crash over you, now holding the gaze of blue eyes flicking back and forth over your features. your back was flat to the wall now, the scent of natasha’s perfume wafting into your nose. she was so close you could make out the faint thrum of the pulse in her neck.

“you have always been blind to see someone who’s actually there for you,” natasha exhaled firmly, but still as stoic as you’ve always known her to be, “wanda used you in her time of hurt.”

the words stung and when you tried to shove natasha backwards, your fingertips pressing on the exposed part of her chest, she only pressed forward. if anything was knowingly true right now, it was that natasha was always immensely stronger than you. she might’ve trained you, but you still would be never up to par with her years of experience. 

“please, stop,” you could feel the dryness around the lump in your throat, the threatening tears at the situation and what you always assumed was the reality with wanda. yet, hearing it come from nat, someone you have always known to be honest, made it even more real.

natasha only shook her head empathetically, “no, you need to listen to me.” you drew in a breath, trying to figure out if this was reality, or if the alcohol had truly gotten to your head. nat had only grown closer, the stoicism not leaving her as she spoke, “i’ve been here, always… and always will be for you.”

you adverted your eyes to glance at her lips. you’d admire how full they were, slightly parted now with her teeth just visible between them. “nat… don’t…” you warned her, carefully, “i can’t do this again.” 

natasha didn’t seem to back down, standing firm in place. her breath was intolerably close, the scent of mixed alcohol on her tongue as she breathed out almost as if debating her actions. 

“y/n, i won’t be like her,” natasha tried, “you have to see i’ve been here.” you swallowed hard for a moment, trying to listen to her words, trying to believe them. 

“natasha…”

before you could comprehend the rest of your thoughts into words, natasha closed the distance. at first she tested, carefully. her lips grazed against yours, waiting for your head and lips to chase hers a bit. you both danced like that for a moment, feeling her breath on your mouth. your sight began to go black as stars danced in your vision while you breathed her in. 

romanoff brought a hand up, another show of reassurance as she cupped your jaw. her fingertips reaching through your hair on the side, thumb running along your cheek bone. “it’s okay,” it came out barely above a whisper, the heat of the words on your lips finally making you give into her, and she felt it.

maybe it was the stress of emotions, the commotion of today’s events, the jealousy you held tonight against steve, but you reached for her. your hands grabbed each side at the small of her waist, lightly enough to have some form of a hold, not enough to pull her in, but enough to give her permission.

in a few seconds, after letting each other breathe against the other for a time, natasha closed the distance fully. her lips felt full against yours, soft and welcoming. there was no urgency, no panic, it was soft and exploratory. you both stayed like this for a minute, only breaking the kiss a couple times to breathe each other in. she was always there for you as she vouched, long before wanda had come along and in this moment– natasha made wanda seem like she was in a different multiverse. 

natasha drew herself impossibly closer to you, the heat of her body pressed against yours. the pillowing of her breasts against yours made stars between closed eyes move feverishly quick. she was taking her time, making sure to never put you in a position of discomfort throughout. 

your lips both moved melodically, dancing against each others in perfect rhythm. you tried to sway it, but the thought of her and steve passed through your thoughts. however, the realization of the moment, that she was here, kissing you in the elevator, leaving everyone else behind at the party, only made you tighten your grip on her waist. you swore you could’ve heard a faint moan of contentedness at the action. your thumbs brushed against the thin material of her dress, feeling the texture of her muscled lower abdomen and it drove you mad.

natasha was beautiful, it made this feel all the more unrealistic even when she was right in front of you. she rose her other hand, as if reading your mind, cupping the opposite jaw to make sure you wouldn’t pull away. this kiss felt emotional and slow, a feeling that the other with wanda lacked. this wasn’t out of spite or pure sexual intention. this kiss was something that natasha wanted for a longtime, even if you hadn’t let yourself fully realize that. it almost made you feel foolish to brush romanoff aside for wanda in the past.

when natasha drew away, you slowly came back into your own, eyes blinking open carefully. the realization that you both were still in the elevator was somewhat of a disappointment. 

“why don’t we get out of this box, and at least another more comfortable room, more privacy,” natasha chuckled, that warmth and hoarseness in her voice making you spin. her thumbs brushed along your cheeks, a soft smile on rose pink lips as her eyes stayed locked on your own.

“please,” you managed, still reeling from the initial kiss you two had shared. natasha pulled herself away, still making sure to catch your glance with an admiring smile as she turned to pressed the button for the elevator to resume to the dormitory floor, only to return her focus to you as it moved.

natasha was the one to finally make you feel something, and this time, it wasn’t just physical.