#ultron fic

[ginnsbaker]

My Sundown

Summary: You’ve been a Hydra agent for as long as you can remember, when Wanda Maximoff and her brother, Pietro, volunteers for Hydra's human experiments.

Word count: 10K+ | Tags: Wanda Maximoff x GN!Reader | Warnings: Only mentions of smut. Hurt/comfort. Reader is a little older than Wanda. Some angst. | A/N: I missed writing for Wanda, and have always wanted to write canon-ish oneshots for the MCU character. Main Masterlist

-

When they first bring her in, she looks like she's been through hell—eyes hollow, skin pale, a storm simmering just beneath the surface. Her hands tremble, not from fear, but from the sheer, unbridled power flowing through her veins. The room seems to shrink under the weight of it, as if even the walls are aware of what she’s capable of. The other recruits are scared and jittery, but she’s different. Her brother too—both rough around the edges, like two sides of the same scarred coin.

“Where did they round up these rats now?” you mutter to Lev, who’s standing dutifully beside you—the only person you've let close enough to be called a friend in all your years with Hydra.

“Sokovian volunteers,” he corrects you, eyes fixed straight ahead, mirroring your own unblinking focus on the twins. Maybe he feels the strange energy coming off them too, or maybe it’s just the routine numbness that sets in after years of blindly following orders.

You nod slightly, though the term volunteer feels like a cruel joke. No one truly volunteers for this. 

“Agent.” 

Dr. List’s voice yanks you out of your thoughts, dreary and impersonal. He calls everyone that way, as if you're just another tool, interchangeable and anonymous. It’s an intentional tactic—strip away the names, and you strip any sense of humanity.  Without a name, you’re not a person; you’re just a weapon at their disposal.

But you know he means you.

You step forward. “Sir,” you reply, maintaining a ramrod straight posture, your eyes fixed on a spot just beside his perpetually scowling face. It seems all villains share that same dour expression, but if this woman—this girl—makes it through the experiments and officially joins the ranks, she might just break the mold, looking more like an angel than a monster. You quickly shake off the thought, stifling a grimace at the odd turn your thoughts have taken.

When you risk a quick glance at her, you catch a ghost of a smirk playing on her lips, as if she knows exactly what you were just thinking.

“You’re to oversee Wanda Maximoff’s progress,” Dr. List continues without sparing you a second glance. “Ensure she complies. If she doesn’t…” He lets the threat hang, but you don't need him to spell it out. You know what Hydra does to those who don't meet expectations.

“And the boy?” you ask, genuinely curious about the other twin.

Dr. List gives you a sharp look, like he suspects something. Questions are frowned upon here, but ever since you laid eyes on Wanda, a persistent tingling has crept up the back of your neck.

To put it bluntly, she unnerves you, and you'd much prefer to deal with her brother.

“Strucker decided to…take a more hands-on approach with him,” Dr. List says.

“Understood, sir,” you reply crisply, reaffirming your commitment to your orders. You steal another glance at Wanda, only to feel a rush of heat when you realize she’s been watching you the entire time.

-

Wanda looks even more formidable once she’s showered and changed into fresh clothes. You can’t decide if it’s because the sinister gleam in her eyes remains untouched or because the grime and hardships of life on the streets have been washed away, revealing a haunting beauty beneath the dirt. Clean, she’s striking—but that beauty only makes her more dangerous. You’ve tried to delay any direct interaction with her, but this morning, Dr. List visited to follow up on the initial assessment, leaving you no more time to postpone. After a week of stalling, you’re out of excuses, and there’s a lot of ground to cover.

As she steps out of the small bathroom, her damp hair clings to her shoulders, softening her otherwise sharp features. The moment she becomes aware of your presence, her gaze locks onto you, and she begins to comb the wet tendrils back with her slender fingers. Your hand tightens around your keycard involuntarily as you take a deep breath, reminding yourself that Wanda is just like any other volunteer who entered the organization and never left its walls to see the light of day. Besides, you’re armed, and Wanda is not. It’s ridiculous to be this on edge around someone who's at a disadvantage.

“You,” Wanda murmurs, her accent rolling off her tongue like a slow, winding river.

“Shall we begin?” you ask, keeping your tone even and detached. You can’t afford to let her see how much she frighte—affects you.

Wanda ignores your request. Instead, she tilts her head slightly, studying you with a keenness that makes your skin prickle. You meet her stare, determined not to show any cracks, even though your heart's hammering away.

Finally, she nods—a small, almost imperceptible movement. 

You clear your throat and motion towards the small cot given to them as beds. “Please, have a seat,” you say.

This time, Wanda complies without a word. 

You glance around the room, searching for a seat, and silently berate yourself for not arranging one beforehand. It’s a small oversight, but it makes you feel foolish. With no other option, you settle against the farthest wall, opposite her, and lean against it, though it doesn’t make you feel any more grounded than you did a second ago.

In your hand is a file detailing everything Hydra knows about her, which isn’t much. You open it with a practiced ease, flipping through the pages, but you’re aptly aware of her eyes on you, watching your every move.

“Wanda Maximoff,” you start. “The procedures you're about to undergo are highly experimental. Hydra won't be held responsible for any injuries, no matter if they're permanent or temporary.”

Including death. But you are prohibited from disclosing this to avoid causing panic or stress among the subjects.

Wanda says nothing, her expression unreadable, but you can sense she’s lingering on a thought. Not sure what it is, you go on, falling back on the lines you've memorized these last few months.

“These procedures will enhance your natural abilities, giving you powers beyond what you may or may not currently possess. However, there are risks involved. Do you understand the nature of these risks?”

Wanda nods again. It’s the same answer you’ve received from countless other volunteers, most of whom had no idea what they were truly signing up for. But there’s something different about her, something in the way she holds herself that tells you she knows exactly what she’s getting into—and she’s not afraid.

“There will be a series of physical and psychological evaluations. We will push you to your breaking point and beyond. It is crucial that you cooperate fully. Resistance will only make the process more difficult, both for you and for us.”

You scan her face for any sign of fear or hesitation, but she's a blank slate. It’s as if she’s made peace with whatever fate awaits her here. That bothers you more than you’d care to admit.

“We will also be conducting interviews throughout the process,” you continue. “These will assess your mental state, your thoughts, your fears. Everything you say will be documented, and nothing will be private.”

Wanda's eyes narrow a touch, the first sign of any emotion since she sat down. It’s subtle, but you notice it. Maybe the thought of her mind being picked apart like a lab specimen is getting to her more than the threat of physical harm. Or it could be something else entirely.

“We’ll begin the physical tests tomorrow,” you say, closing the file and hugging it to your chest. “For now, you should rest and eat as much as you like. Your room is monitored constantly. If you need anything, just ask, though your movement around the facility will be restricted.”

The mask of indifference slips back into place. Wanda leans back on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows in a display of casual ease. 

“Do you have any questions?” you ask, mostly because you have to, not because you really want to know. You figure she won't ask anything—most are too scared or too defeated to speak up. 

But Wanda Maximoff isn't most people.

“Why do you do this?”

You can’t help it—a faint smile begins to creep across your face at her question. Most volunteers, when they ask anything at all, are fixated on their own impending ordeal, too scared of what's coming. 

But Wanda isn't asking about herself; she's asking about you. It feels like forever since anyone showed that kind of interest.

Pausing at the doorway, you turn your head just enough for her to see the profile of your face. 

“I do what I'm told,” you say, dodging the deeper question she posed—the real why behind your actions. The truth is, you stopped asking why a long time ago. Reasons tend to blur into excuses when moral lines are crossed in an organization you once trusted.

You're already tapping your keycard against the scanner when Wanda speaks again.

“Will doing what you're told bring them back?”

Her question spins you around so fast it's almost like whiplash. How did Wanda know about that? Was it just a wild guess meant to throw you off? Whatever it was, it worked.

You open your mouth to reply, but the words stick in your throat. You don’t even remember the last time you even thought about them. You've never shared this with anyone—not even Lev. Only a handful of Hydra figures were ever privy to your past.

Wanda couldn't possibly know. Unless—

“Good night, Y/N,” Wanda says, her tone dismissive as she curls into a fetal position, turning her back to you.

If your theory holds, Wanda might be the key Hydra has been searching for—the one who can unlock the powers of the scepter that have eluded so many others. Her apparent ability to read minds could be the very breakthrough Dr. List has been waiting for. 

Finding yourself hesitating to report this discovery surprises you. It’s almost ironic how your conscience decides to kick in now, just when Hydra's goal seems tantalizingly close with the acquisition of the twins. You know what Hydra would do if they realized just how special she is, and the thought of them twisting her into something monstrous is something you can’t even begin to imagine.

-

In the days that follow, you keep quiet about your suspicions regarding Wanda’s innate abilities. You tell yourself that Dr. List will probably uncover them through his experiments soon enough. It’s definitely not because you're worried about what they might do if they decide to fast-track her program.

Yes, you’re just staying out of it, certainly not because you want to protect her.

At least, that's what you keep telling yourself.

-

Your next face-to-face with Wanda comes a week later.

Though you have merely been observing her through a two-way mirror, you've been plagued by sleepless nights since your last meeting, and not even the strongest sedatives at your disposal have helped. Thoughts of her well-being nag at you, despite Hydra's strict rules limiting interaction between volunteers and handlers to prevent any emotional attachments. Such attachments have formed before, and Hydra has always dealt with them ruthlessly.

When you enter her room, she's in the same position as before—curled up on her cot, making herself appear small and almost childlike. She looks up as the door closes behind you, her eyes meeting yours with a quiet recognition. 

As you step closer, the hollowness of her cheeks, the dark circles under her eyes, and her pale complexion are unmistakable. The word weathered hardly does justice to the toll her first week has taken. You know exactly what she’s been through. The tests here aren’t just tests—they’re torture, meant to break people down, body and mind. Even with her powers and confidence, Wanda shows the same signs of strain. She's slight, frail, and clearly, she's had as rough a time as anyone else here.

This time, you come prepared with a metal chair and a freshly prepared tea set next to it, and take a seat across from her.

“How are you holding up?” you ask, although the answer seems painfully obvious.

Wanda shrugs, barely moving, as if the effort to appear okay is too much for her. But then she surprises you.

“How long until Hydra enhances my powers?”

You weren’t expecting that. After everything she’s been through, she’s asking for more? You thought she’d be wary, maybe even broken by now. But the question says otherwise. She’s been through hell, and she’s still pushing forward, demanding more. Is she courting death?

“You seem in a hurry,” you say, hiding your worry behind a soft chuckle. 

Her eyes narrow. “I didn’t come here to wait around. If they want to use me, they need to make me stronger.”

Use me.

How disconcerting. She’s asking for more—more pain, more trials. As if everything she’s endured isn’t enough, as if she needs it to become something greater. It’s reckless and foolish, to say the least.

“We’re moving as fast as we can—”

“Move faster.”

“Wanda,” you say quietly. “What you’re asking for... it could break you.”

“I’m already broken,” she declares, cold and matter-of-fact. “If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

It’s only when you notice the disgust in her eyes that you realize you’ve been looking at her with pity. Wanda is about to snap back, likely to tell you she doesn’t need your sympathy, when her expression shifts abruptly to one of curiosity.

She tilts her head, studying you—or maybe, with the mirth in her eye, it’s more like she’s mocking you. 

“You look at me like that again, and I’ll ask you a question,” Wanda says, her voice low, almost a whisper.

You stiffen, uncertain of what's coming next, but before you can say anything, she continues.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

The question startles a laugh out of you, abrupt and a bit too loud—almost like you're trying to convince both yourself and Wanda how absurd she’s being. But as the laughter dies down, you feel your face heat up, your cheeks flushing a telltale red that you can't hide.

“No,” you say, your gaze dropping to the floor as you shake your head. You clasp your hands behind your back, one finger nervously picking at a cuticle. “This isn’t what this is about.”

Wanda smirks slightly, her lips twitching, amused by your discomfort. “Isn't it?” 

For a split second, you start to doubt everything. Did you really want to sleep with her? It's been ages since you've even considered intimacy with anyone—maybe too long. Life here doesn't leave space for that kind of thinking, and even if it did, the situation wouldn't allow it. Your heart's been shattered so often you're sure there's nothing left to give—especially not to someone you've only known for a week.

Wait—love?

This is, at best, lust—nothing more.

“No,” you repeat with more conviction.

Wanda’s smirk fades into a slow, knowing smile. “Fine. Just know the offer stands if you ever change your mind.”

A proposition. It’s not the first time you’ve received one, but this offer sticks with you longer than you’d like. Wanda’s already spent too much time in your thoughts, and you’re desperate to shake her off and get back to the task at hand. But she makes it maddeningly hard to do so.

Without looking at her, you clear your throat and begin the routine interview. You refuse to focus on the fact that she’s just openly considered a physical encounter with you—and you’re definitely not considering it in return. 

“Have you noticed any unusual side effects since the last session? Headaches, nausea, dizziness?” you ask, skipping the pleasantries.

“No,” she says dryly. “No headaches. No nausea. No dizziness.”

You jot down her answers, ignoring her evident disinterest in the proceedings.

“Any changes in your sleep pattern?” you continue.

“No.”

“Any unusual pain or discomfort?” you ask, forcing yourself to meet her gaze, but her focus is on the rings on her fingers. The prisoners—volunteers, you correct yourself—aren't supposed to keep any personal items. It baffles you how she managed to hold on to those cheap pieces of metal and silver.

It takes Wanda a moment to respond. “Just the usual soreness.”

You suspect it's more than just soreness. She’s probably downplaying the pain, so you make a note beside her answer.

“Alright, we’ll keep an eye on that. Any changes in your mood? Irritability, anxiety, anything like that?”

Wanda shrugs. “Depends on the company, I suppose.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Noted. We’ll stick with the same regimen for now. Any concerns or questions about the next phase?”

“What happened to them?” Wanda asks, steering the interview off course.

Annoyance flares up as she probes again, prying into your business. “Don’t you already know?” you snap, your patience wearing thin.

But Wanda doesn’t even blink. She isn’t scared, and that just irks you even more. She should be, if she knew what you’ve done to others who’ve pushed your buttons. You’ve never hesitated to throw your weight around with those who make your job harder.

“Sometimes what really happened and how we remember it are two entirely different stories,” she says, taking a deep breath before she continues. “Our mind protects us from the truth. It obscures what’s real, and what’s not becomes all we remember.”

You're stone-still, your mind drifting back to the past Wanda keeps prodding at. You don't even have a picture of your family anymore. Their voices are gone from your memory, and you're barely holding onto their faces. It used to tear you apart, thinking about them, but now there's just emptiness. You realize Wanda can’t rattle you—she has no leverage because there’s nothing left inside you to disrupt.

You’ve got nothing.

“Y/N?” Wanda presses, her features tightening with concern. 

You consider throwing her blunt words right back at her, but you hold off. Instead, you set the clipboard down on the counter with a soft clack. Turning to the medical cart, you grab a tray of needles and tools, then bring it over to her bed. Wanda's eyes widen slightly, and she scoots back as you sit down on the edge of the mattress. It’s satisfying to finally see her react with something other than that usual smug, unshakable attitude. You pick up a syringe, fill it with a bright yellow liquid from an unmarked bottle, and swipe a cotton ball soaked in alcohol over the top.

“What’s that?” Wanda asks evenly, though you can detect traces of doubt in it that suggest she’s trying to put up a brave front. 

“Supplements.”

Wanda raises a skeptical brow. 

You lift the syringe slightly, letting it catch the light so she can see exactly what you’re holding.

“May I?” you gesture toward her arm.

Wanda eyes you warily, then gives a quick nod.

With her consent, you scoot closer until your knees almost touch. You gently roll up the sleeve of her scrubs, exposing her arm. This close, you can see the goosebumps on her skin and feel the slight tremors running through her. You hadn't noticed before, but she's shivering—not from the cold, but probably from a fever.

Instinctively, you press your palm against her forehead. Wanda flinches but doesn’t pull away. Slowly, she settles into your touch and lets out a small sigh.

“You're hot,” you blurt out, and then quickly realize the unintended double entendre. Fortunately, Wanda lets it pass without comment. You retract your hand and hold the syringe up to her arm, poised but something stops you.

“What are you waiting for?” Wanda prompts impatiently.

You're thinking of straying from the usual protocol, knowing the yellow meds might worsen Wanda's condition, especially with her fever spiking. Deciding against it, you put the syringe down and grab another bottle off the cart, this one filled with a clear liquid.

“Change of plans,” you murmur, prepping the new syringe. You nod at her for her arm, and she shifts closer, making it easier for you. When you depress the plunger, it's quick—so quick that Wanda barely feels the needle's prick.

You pull out the needle and press a small bandage onto the spot. “All done,” you announce.

Wanda massages her arm, feeling no real pain at the injection site. “T-Thanks,” she murmurs softly.

You acknowledge her gratitude with a nod and start collecting your notebook and tools. As you rise to leave, Wanda's hand shoots out, her fingers wrapping around your wrist urgently. You turn, meeting her striking, green eyes.

“I’m sorry about your family,” she murmurs quietly. Her words solidify your suspicion: she came to Hydra with powers already in tow. Mind reading or memory extraction would be invaluable to Hydra, and now, with even more power at your fingertips, you find yourself hesitating to use it.

If Dr. List catches wind of your hesitations, the reprisals will be brutal.

You glance down pointedly at where she's holding your hand, but Wanda doesn’t let go.

“It was a long time ago,” you whisper.

“Time doesn't really heal that kind of loss,” she says, still holding onto you.

“No, but you learn to live with it,” you reply, feeling the truth of your own words.

Wanda's hold slackens but remains. You feel awkward standing there, yet something holds you back from pulling away. You hadn't realized until now how starved you were for such a simple, human connection.

“I lost my parents the same way,” she shares.

“I'm sorry,” you say, and you really mean it. You can't read Wanda like she seems to read you, but in this brief moment, with the walls down, you decide to ask, “Is that why you came to us? To avenge your parents?”

Wanda's grip loosens completely, and she lets go of your wrist. You rub the spot where her fingers were, still feeling the warmth she left behind.

“‘Avenge’,” she spits out. She draws her knees to her chest and hugs them close. “I hate that word. Pietro and I, we're here to stop them. I wish… I wish they’d just leave Sokovia alone. They won’t leave because we can’t fight back.”

Your own past with Hydra comes to mind as she speaks. Back then, you joined because you were out of options. No country to fight for, no people to call yours. It strikes you how different Wanda's motivations are—rooted in something far more personal and noble. She deserves more than what Hydra can offer. 

Wanda looks at you, waiting for an answer. When you don't say anything, she pushes, “Do you think we made the right decision coming here?”

You're all too aware of Hydra’s real agenda. They're not about peace. They're here to extend their control, to bend the world around their so-called divine mission. 

“Sometimes, you don't know if it’s the right choice until it's too late to change it,” you say, knowing it’s not much of an answer. It's just the bitter truth you've come to know. It's all you can offer Wanda.

“Can you do me a favor, Y/N? Will you look after Pietro?”

The same way you’ve been looking out for me, Wanda thinks to herself, relieved that there’s only one telepath in the room.

“No promises,” you say.

Wanda gives a slight nod and starts to withdraw again. She settles back down on the cot, turning away from you, the conversation clearly over.

-

Lev sneaks into your room just before midnight, the door giving a soft creak as it swings open. Though friends, you typically keep to your own spaces. You blink sleepily at him, fighting to sit up and shake off the grogginess.

“Dr. List decided to skip ahead,” Lev says in a rush, closing the door with a gentle click. “He’s moved forward with exposing the twins to the scepter.”

“When?” You're wide awake now, sitting bolt upright in bed.

Lev’s eyes dart to the small window in your room before returning to you, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard. “An hour ago.”

That can’t be good. It’s far sooner than anyone had anticipated. Dr. List’s decision to advance the timeline without further testing could have unpredictable consequences. You swing your legs off the bed, your brain ticking through the possible scenarios.

“What’s the status now? How did Wan—the twins react?” you ask, grabbing your jacket and shoes and throwing them on without taking your eyes off Lev.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. They rushed them to the Observation Chamber right after the exposure. Everything’s been kept under wraps.”

You pace a few steps, mulling over your next move. Exposure to the scepter has been lethal for everyone. Even with Wanda's unique abilities, there’s no guarantee she’ll pull through when others haven't.

“We need more information. Can you get access to the observation logs?”

Lev nods, though his expression shows his apprehension. “I’ll try. But security has been tighter since the exposure.”

You catch the anxious twist of his mouth at the idea of sneaking around, and choose to spare him the risk. His relief is palpable when you tell him, “I'll handle it myself.”

He sighs in relief. “Be careful…”

Only a select few can get into the Observation Chamber, and your badge isn’t on that list. You're going to need something stronger than just caution.

-

You slip your underwear back on, feeling Laura’s eyes tracing the contours of your body. 

After Lev left, you headed straight for her. Laura Brown, the Hydra director's daughter, hadn't seen you in almost a year, but the nature of your previous encounters left little doubt she'd be open to reconnecting.

Laura reclines on the bed, a sheet loosely draped around her, smirking as she watches you.  “I knew you'd come back eventually,” she purrs, a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes.

You straighten up, deliberately avoiding her eyes as you button your shirt. “I need a favor, Laura.” 

She leans back against the headboard, the sheet falling to her waist and revealing her bare chest. “This sounds serious.”

“I need to get into the Observation Chamber. Tonight,” you say. You despise asking her—or anyone, really—for favors, but you need to see Wanda. It's imperative.

Laura's eyebrows go up, her smile growing. “Direct and desperate. What's in it for me?”

“What do you want?” you ask, even though you already know the answer.

She thinks it over, then answers, “Keep me company tonight, no strings attached. Just like the old days.”

“Done.”

Laura claps her hands, clearly pleased, and tosses you the badge from the bedside table. 

You pick it up, feeling a bit degraded, like you're picking up coins someone's thrown your way. “I'll be right back,” you promise.

-

The guards give you weird looks as you show up at the Observation Chamber. They had clear orders: only Dr. List or Baron Strucker can go in. But dropping the director’s daughter’s name does the trick. You flash her badge and they let you pass, no more questions asked.

The hallway is pitch-black. This place had been sleeping until now, woken up by the fact that Pietro and Wanda Maximoff hadn’t died like the others who met the scepter. Clearly labeled doors mark the new, grim function of the space.

You think about heading straight to Wanda's room, but you remember her earlier request and decide to check on Pietro first.

The soft beeping of monitors greets you as soon as you step inside his room. He's in rough shape, alive but barely hanging on. You quickly check the chart posted next to the door—it shows low blood pressure and a high dosage of Epinephrine administered, with a note that his chances of survival stand at only 57% as of 11:30 PM.

He looks much thinner and more worn than the last time you saw him, his condition evidently worse. His eyes are bloodshot, his skin pale and stretched tight over his bones. As you move closer, you notice his body trembling, a sheen of sweat covering him despite the room's chill.

Quickly, you pull the extra covers from beneath his bed and wrap them around him, trying to stabilize his shivering. Then, you snag a water bottle from a nearby stand, helping him take slow, measured sips. 

Pietro looks at you, his eyes filled with confusion and pain, struggling to form the words. “Who are you?”

“Just someone who made your sister a promise,” you say, scooping up some water in your palm and gently drizzling it over his head. Pietro sighs in relief. “Get some rest now, and try not to die.”

His eyes flutter shut in seconds, his breath smoothing out as sleep claims him. You linger just a moment to make sure he's really out, then hurry off towards Wanda's room. Your heart pounds in your chest, fear pulsing through you. Pietro was in rough shape; how bad might Wanda be? You cling to a shred of hope that she's holding up better.

The air stays heavy as you enter Wanda’s quarters. You tread lightly, making sure not to disturb her sleep, and check the medical chart by her bed. Unlike Pietro’s dire prognosis, Wanda's stats are steady, but still troubling. Her breaths are regular, without the distressing shivers that torment her brother.

What strikes you is how normal, how peacefully she's sleeping, despite her recent exposure to Loki’s scepter. 

Relieved to see her condition isn’t more severe, you end up at the foot of her bed. There isn’t much to do after confirming she’s stable, and you know you should head back to Laura. But leaving Wanda’s side proves difficult once you're there. Almost immediately, your mind floods with ideas on how to get her out of Hydra’s clutches. If they fully realized her potential, it wouldn't just be dangerous for her—it'd be catastrophic for anyone in their path. Internally, you start plotting escape routes and thinking about who might be willing to help.

It’s strange to think how you went from one of Hydra’s most devoted agents to scheming against them.

Lost in your plans, you're jolted back to the present when you feel a gentle nudge against your thigh. Wanda's foot is pressing against you. She's awake. You look up to find her eyes open, wary and searching.

“Y/N,” she murmurs, her voice raspy from lack of use. “What—what happened?”

You subtly shift on the bed, making sure her toes aren't touching you anymore. You're not sure when you became so acutely aware of Wanda’s proximity, or of the points where your bodies meet.

“What do you remember before all this?” you ask.

She rubs her forehead, straining to recall. “There was a room... a stone emerging from the scepter. Bright lights… then nothing.”

You nod, already knowing half of what Wanda just told you. This is the first time anyone has lived to tell about their experience with the scepter, and you were hoping for more insights into how it unleashes its power. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about trying it yourself, wondering if you could resist its effects. Being Hydra, curiosity about power was a constant temptation.

“You weren't supposed to be exposed to the scepter yet,” you admit quietly. “Dr. List sped things up, maybe because he suspected—”

“Pietro,” she cuts in, her thoughts finally catching up. “Was he exposed to it too?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes widen, clouded with worry. “Is he okay?”

“He’s alive,” you say. “I just saw him before coming here. He's stable, but it’s precarious.”

Wanda’s face crumples as soon as the words leave your lips. Before you can react, she throws her arms around you, her face buried in your shoulder. You freeze for a moment, uncertain how to respond. It’s been so long since you’ve held someone like this, since you’ve allowed yourself to care enough to even consider it. But then you feel it—tears, warm and wet against your neck. She’s crying.

After a moment, you hesitantly wrap your arms around her, holding her as she trembles against you. You can feel her fear, her desperation. It cuts through your defenses, the ones you’ve built so carefully over the years.

You tighten your hold on her, offering what little comfort you can, but inside, you’re battling your own fear. You can’t afford to care about her this much—not here, not now. But as you hold her, feeling every shake of her body, you know it’s already too late.

Wanda's sobs slowly subside, and you pull back slightly, intent on offering some kind of reassurance despite how foreign it feels to you. You reach up, brushing away her tears with your thumb, trying to find the right words, but they don’t come. Instead, as your hand lingers on her cheek, she pins you with a quiet stare. Before you realize what’s happening, Wanda leans in and presses her lips softly against yours.

The kiss is brief, just a fraction of a second, but it leaves you utterly breathless. She pulls back almost immediately, watching you, waiting to see how you’ll react. For a heartbeat, you're stunned, but then something ignites inside you, something you’ve been holding back without even recognizing it. 

Acting on pure impulse, you reach up, grasp the back of her neck, and pull her in for another kiss. In an instant, you take control effortlessly, letting the animalistic and Hydra part of you come to the forefront. Your thumb presses roughly against her chin, coaxing her mouth open, and you slide your tongue in, staking your claim. Wanda responds with a gasp, her hands clutching at your shoulders, but you’re too far gone to think about anything except the taste of her, the way her body molds against yours.

You tilt her head back, deepening the kiss further, your other hand sliding down to grip her waist, pulling her closer still. The feel of her, the heat of her skin under your fingers, it’s intoxicating, and you can’t get enough. You've never allowed yourself to want someone this much. Just as you think you can't hold back any longer, Wanda's hand captures yours and guides it under her shirt. You're startled to find out she's wearing nothing underneath when your knuckles brush against her hardened nipple. That unexpected discovery is what compels you to pull back.

Wanda's lips leave yours with a wet sound, and she begins kissing down your jaw to your neck.

“Wanda, wait—”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” she says. Her breath is hot against your skin, and you feel her tongue trace a line up to your pulse point, leaving a fiery trail that makes you shiver. “You can claim your reward, you can have me.”

Her words snap you out of the haze, that single word—reward—ringing in your ears like a warning bell. You quickly place your hands on her shoulders, pushing her back gently but firmly.

Wanda blinks, confusion and hurt flashing in her eyes as she looks up at you. “What’s wrong?” She knows she’s attractive and has already glimpsed your desire for her during your visits, reading it in your thoughts. It’s why she finds your rejection so absurd—frustrating, even, given her openness.

“I'm not here for that,” you say, your voice coming out rougher than you intended.

“Then why are you here?”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, unaccustomed to openly discussing your feelings. “I came to see how you're doing after... after the scepter.”

“I'm fine,” she answers flatly.

You nod, still feeling the residual heat of her closeness. “Do you feel any different?” you ask, partly out of concern but mostly to shift the conversation elsewhere.

“I'm just tired,” Wanda says, closing her eyes and running a hand through her tousled dark hair. “Can we do this tomorrow?” She sounds a bit let down, assuming you're here just for a routine check—looking for any new powers or changes—as if she had hoped for something more personal.

“I'm sorry,” you quickly say. “I’m not here on any official orders. In fact, I shouldn't even be here.”

This revelation softens her look, her eyes narrowing slightly with renewed interest.

Taking a deep breath, you continue, “I'm working on getting you and Pietro out of here. It's not set yet, but—”

“Out of here?” Wanda cuts in, her eyebrows knitting together in puzzlement. “Why would I want to leave?” 

“You got what you came for, right? The power of the scepter? Now you can leave. Hydra isn’t what you think,” you explain, trying to make her see the danger.

“Look who's acting all self-righteous all of a sudden. You've been here for years, and I've seen you do things,” she retorts sharply.

“Stop looking into my mind,” you snap, irritated by her knack for sifting through your thoughts without permission and using your past against you. Just because she can doesn’t mean she should.

“You’re saying I’m wrong?” she sneers.

You shake your head. “Look, I’m just trying to help—”

“If you really want to help, just do your job.”

Her words hit you harder than any physical blow could. You knew better than to let someone get this close, to allow your emotions to cloud your judgment. But there’s no one to blame here but yourself. Wanda didn't even have to do much to earn your solicitude; it was your own doing, your own need to make things right that led you here. 

Hydra’s training kicks in like second nature, and you shut down the emotions before they can show, your face hardening into a mask.

“Alright, Wanda. I'll do just that.”

-

It’s easier the second time you’re with Laura that night.

After Wanda's dismissal, you find Laura’s body to be the comfort you need. You lose yourself in her, the way she responds to every touch, every move you make. Pushing everything else from your mind, you focus solely on her, making her come again and again until she’s too bone-tired to do anything but black out beside you.

After it's over, you slip out of her bed, leaving her to sleep off the night’s weariness, and return to your room. You don't think about Wanda. Not even once.

In the following days, Wanda's recovery is swift—too swift for your level of clearance. Dr. List decides she’s beyond your oversight and assigns her to a higher clearance team. You’re left dealing with new recruits, volunteers who are eager yet naïve, none of whom survive the brutal exposure to the scepter. Each failure hardens you a little more, cements the necessity of detachment. 

But even with countless deaths on their hands, Hydra doesn't back down. If anything, they’re more driven now, hungry for more power, spurred on by the success of the twins. Pietro develops superhuman speed, a skill Hydra quickly puts to use by dispatching him to enemy territories for intel. Wanda’s abilities become more varied, showing signs of what could be categorized as psionic powers. She demonstrates capabilities that suggest telekinesis, manipulating objects without touching them, and telepathy—which she employs at her whim. 

Sometimes you wonder if she ever peeks into your mind anymore. But then, with the kind of power she wields, why would she even bother with what you're thinking? You're not special. Not even your badge, which doesn't get you into sections of the base without currying favor with Laura Brown first.

The Sokovian base is sprawling, and encounters with either of the Maximoff twins are rare but unavoidable. Pietro remembers your visit that night. Now and then, he nods at you politely. Wanda, on the other hand, acts as if you don’t exist. If you pass her in the hallways, she looks through you as if you're invisible. So, you make it a point to stay out of her way, blending into the dull walls and shadows as much as you can.

This detachment suits you in a way. It allows you to focus on your duties, on surviving one day at a time in an environment where the stakes are always high and the consequences often lethal.

It leaves you with nothing to lose, because there's no one left to lose.

-

Weeks pass quietly until rumors start floating around that Wanda's been seeing someone inside the complex. It’s hard to call it dating, really, since concepts like love and trust struggle to take root in a place as bleak as this. It’s probably just two people keeping each other company through the colder nights. Still, you can’t shake off how much this bothers you. 

But it's not surprising. The twins' popularity has only grown, especially since, months later, no one else has matched their extraordinary feat of surviving an Infinity Stone—a term you picked up only after Hydra discovered what was really behind Loki's scepter.

Sometimes, you find yourself observing Wanda from afar, trying to figure out if there’s any substance to the rumors. Who makes her laugh? Who does she choose to sit with at meals? The more you notice your own scrutiny, the more you recognize a feeling of jealousy stirring within you, an emotion that’s prevalent among your peers but not in this regard. You're bewildered and annoyed by your own reaction—why should who Wanda spends time with matter to you? Whatever she does, whoever she fucks—it's none of your business.

You hate this feeling, but you combat it by heading to Laura’s room every night, as if she’s the cure you need to keep yourself in check.

-

“They’ll betray us someday,” Lev murmurs as you both amble through the dense woods, taking a rare break from the base for a smoke. He breathes out slowly, watching the smoke curl upwards. You don’t have to ask to know he’s talking about the twins.

“No sooner than Hydra will throw us under the bus when the Avengers show up,” you reply, stepping around a fallen branch. “We’re all expendable. You know that, right?”

Lev takes a deep drag, his gaze fixed on the trail ahead. “Yeah, I know,” he says at last, releasing a plume of smoke. There’s something in his eyes, a look that tells you he’s not saying all he could about the twins.

You eye him suspiciously. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Lev glances at you, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he's deciding how much to share. After a moment, he nods.

“Okay, I wasn't planning on telling you this yet, but I've been handed a special assignment—the Maximoff Contingency Plan,” he reveals.

You scoff at him. “You’re the contingency plan?” 

“No, not just me,” Lev chuckles darkly as he tosses his cigarette to the ground and stomps it out. “I'm involved, but it's more than that. We're working on a weapon, one that borrows from the tech of the Infinity Stone.”

The seriousness of what he's saying sinks in. Leveraging the power of an Infinity Stone means they're not messing around.

“And what's this weapon supposed to do?” you ask, not sure if you want to hear the answer.

Lev’s expression darkens. “You know what weapons are supposed to do,” he says tersely, turning to head back. “Let’s go.”

Hydra does not tolerate treachery. Even the mildest punishment is a swift death—a quick end, but an end all the same.

-

It’s only a matter of time before the Avengers find the Sokovian Base. Tensions had been mounting and Hydra's movements had become increasingly aggressive, drawing unwanted attention. When it all goes down, you’re in your room, scrambling to suit up and arm yourself with pistols—not to confront the Avengers, who are essentially gods, but to fight for your way out.

As the base descends into turmoil, you hear that Wanda and Pietro are attempting to escape. Hydra has a ruthless protocol for such situations: eliminate the entire unit to prevent any leaks. It's cleaner to destroy and rebuild than to let loose ends compromise the organization. Knowing about the contingency plan to eliminate the twins, you grab your radio and contact Lev, asking where he is.

“You’re just in time. I need backup. I've got Wanda Maximoff in my sights, waiting for the right moment to take her down,” he radios back.

“On it, I’m with you,” you reply, feeling the sweat bead on your forehead as you move toward his location. When you get there, you find Lev, poised and ready, his eyes fixed on the target through the scope of his rifle. You scan the surroundings, looking for hazards until you spot Wanda among the debris. Iron Man's missiles have turned the area into a deadly maze of flying rocks. From her fingertips, streams of red magic swirl, skillfully steering the massive boulders away from crushing both Hydra agents and civilians.

Wanda isn’t trying to escape—she’s helping fend them off. Seeing her save these lives, something inside you breaks. Lev has his rifle aimed at her, ready to pull the trigger while she's busy playing the hero. The possible outcomes flash through your mind: Wanda dead or imprisoned by the Avengers. The thought is unbearable. You've spent months pretending you didn't care, but now, faced with the reality of losing her, you realize all you want is for her to live, to be free—something you've long given up for yourself.

You're about to dissuade Lev, to argue her worth, her potential, anything to stall, when an explosion nearby startles Wanda. She turns, momentarily distracted, and Lev's finger tightens on the trigger, ready to end it all.

But you're faster.

He collapses with a shocked gasp, the life leaving his eyes as he hits the ground. The noise of his body falling draws Wanda’s attention. She turns just in time to see what you've done—for her. Her eyes, wide and questioning, boring into yours.

Why did you save me? They seem to ask you, those green orbs that have hunted you ever since you looked into them. There's no time for lengthy explanations—not that you have a solid one anyway. But with each passing second, the chance of escaping undetected by these so-called superheroes dwindles.

“You need to leave, now!” you yell at her, but she doesn't budge. Instead, she looks at you, really looks at you, for the first time with something other than disdain. It’s the same look she gave you the night the scepter awakened her powers. It’s a look that tells you that maybe she’s been pretending too, these past few months.

You’re about to sprint toward her, to drag her to safety if you have to, when a blur of motion sweeps her away. Pietro appears out of nowhere, whisking them both out of the base before the Avengers close in. 

For a second, you're left standing there, surrounded by the wreckage and the friend you just betrayed and killed. There's no time to grieve, no time to second-guess leaving his body behind—it's pure instinct that forces you to move quickly. You head towards an exit known only to the most important figures of the organization, a piece of information you picked up from Laura. She wouldn’t have given it away if you weren’t frequently sleeping together, those personal liaisons caused by trying to forget Wanda.  

It’s strange, in a way, how you both just ended up saving each other.

-

Several weeks after the Avengers demolish the Sokovian base, Wanda finds you at a small cabin you own on the outskirts of Novi Grad. The modest structure sits on a 2-acre plot near the woods—a spot you picked up when your stint in Sokovia stretched past thirteen months. You never really planned on settling here; you thought you’d be moved to another location and sell this land at a profit eventually. But life, it seems, had other plans.

You’re chopping wood beside the cabin when you feel her presence. Dropping the axe, you straighten up and spot her at the edge of the clearing. Your eyes quickly sweep her surroundings for any sign of Pietro, but it appears she has come alone.

“Why did you do it?” she asks once she's close enough. You take a few moments to take her in, hardly believing she's actually here, and touched by the thought that she sought you out. You've missed her presence, even though the last few months have only found you both inhabiting the same compound, breathing the same air but never speaking. 

Sometimes, lying in bed at night, you wonder why you can’t shake Wanda from your thoughts. You’ve even entertained the idea that she might have hexed you, that her magic has somehow ensnared your mind and… maybe your heart. It seems like the only logical explanation, because since the day you met, Wanda has never really left your mind.

“I did what I thought was right,” you finally answer, tucking your hands inside your pockets, not knowing what else to do with them.

“He was your friend,” Wanda points out softly. 

Your lips curl into a strained smile; of course, she’d know. She knows things about you that you'd never voice out loud. Wanda’s ability to read minds makes hiding anything impossible. Does she understand how deeply you care for her? She must. Wanda has always seen right through you, so why does she need to ask?

“Did you ever think about me after that night?” she asks out of nowhere. The night the Infinity Stone changed everything, when you were closer to her than you’d ever been before.

You're taken aback by her directness. This, too, she probably knows the answer to because you've thought of little else. 

“Everyday,” you say.

That night, you invite her to your home, the first person ever to share the space you once believed would always be just yours. Your living room is snug, with a three-seater couch and a medium-sized TV mounted on the wall. There’s also a fireplace that lights up the space with an amber glow as you hand Wanda a cup of hot chocolate.

You and Wanda find yourselves chatting about lighter topics. She shares her favorite shows from childhood, and you're surprised to learn she’s a big fan of American sitcoms. You enjoyed them too when you were younger, but not to the extent that you'd watch entire seasons over and over like Wanda did. Your preference leaned more toward books, gobbling up Agatha Christie novels when you were younger.

While you're in the middle of sharing a particularly funny memory from one of those old sitcom episodes, Wanda suddenly leans in and kisses you. Though your first instinct is to dive back into the kiss, you pull back instead. The last time you were this close, things escalated quickly before they crashed and burned.

“Are you sure?” you ask, searching her eyes for an answer. Learning from past mistakes, you want to make sure it's what she really wants.

She nods, her eyes steady and invitingly dark. “I’m sure.”

You close the distance between you, kissing her to your heart’s content. Before long, clothes are discarded, and you move from the couch to the bed, leisurely exploring each other, discovering how to bring one another to new heights of pleasure. 

As you lie next to her afterward, breathless and tangled in the sheets, you realize there’s no way to pretend anymore—you care too much to go back.

-

The quiet doesn’t last long. 

Tony Stark’s experiment goes awry, giving rise to Ultron—a global threat with ambitions that soon become clear. It seeks to bring about what he perceives as peace, by any means necessary. And just when you thought you and Wanda might have found some peace, she tells you she’s joining Ultron.

“It’s too dangerous,” you tell her. The twins and a robot against the entire Avengers team? The numbers alone put the odds against them. “We can stay here, help the people around us, and actually make a real difference.”

She shakes her head, her jaw set. “You don’t get it,” she argues. “You never will. You’re not…”

Special. Go ahead, Wanda, say it. Say what you really think of me.

“...you don’t have powers. You don’t know what it’s like to be able to change things and then just stand by, powerless.”

You were bracing for it, but it hurts all the same.

“So what am I then, Wanda? Just a bystander? Someone not worth listening to because I don't have powers?”

“I’m saying I have to do this,” Wanda mutters solemnly. “I’m the only one who can do this.”

You can see in her eyes that she’s already made up her mind. You’re still racking up your brain for something that might make a difference but she speaks again.

“I’m doing this for Sokovia,” she says quietly. “For everyone who's suffered because of Stark.”

You say nothing. Her fierce loyalty is one of the things you adore about her.

Wanda steps closer, her hand reaching out to touch your face, her thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “I’ll come back,” she promises. “When this is over, I’ll come back to you.”

You nod, resigned to the reality that you must let her go. “I’ll be here,” you say, your voice thick with regret that you can’t do more to protect her, to make sure she’s safe. “Waiting for you, right here.”

-

Pietro Maximoff dies riddled with bullet wounds—over a dozen of them. You learn the details of his death through a tabloid, days after witnessing Novi Grad being torn from the ground. 

A week later, Wanda comes back to you, just as she promised, but she’s not the same. The light in her eyes is gone, replaced by a ghostly void. It’s a look you know all too well, the same one you’ve seen staring back at you in the mirror for years.

A loss of purpose.

In the days that follow, you try to restore some normalcy, but nothing feels right. You cook meals she barely touches, sit beside her during long stretches of silence, and listen when she occasionally finds the strength to talk. It's tough, seeing her struggle, but you stay by her side, hoping things will begin to heal.

But they don’t.

Every day, you see it—the guilt, the pain, the loss. She tries to find reasons to keep going, but nothing seems to hold. And as much as you want to be the one to help her, to pull her out of this darkness, you know you're not enough. Not this time.

Wanda is adrift, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t anchor her to this life you’re trying to build. She’s lost her brother, her home, and whatever sense of justice she thought she could achieve by joining Ultron. And you—you’ve been running from your past for so long, and you’re simply tired of it.

You start thinking about what’s best for her, about what she needs to move on and find a new purpose. Deep down, you recognize that maybe the best way for her to truly heal is if you step aside.

-

Like Wanda, you don’t trust Stark. So, with the skills you’ve honed during your time with Hydra, you manage to find a way to contact Steve Rogers instead.

The conversation happens one afternoon, over a phone call. You tell him everything—your past with Hydra, the things you’ve done, and why you’re ready to turn yourself in. He listens without interrupting, letting you confess everything. You mention that Wanda's with you, and make it clear this isn't about trying to reclaim some lost sense of patriotism. You're doing it for her.

“You did the right thing by coming to me,” Steve says when you finish. “Wanda has so much potential. She deserves a chance to become who she’s meant to be.”

“I know,” you reply, your voice dropping to a whisper. You’ve known it all along, perhaps better than anyone. It’s why you’re doing this, even though it feels like tearing yourself apart.

Over the course of the conversation, you and Steve work out an agreement. You’ll serve a reduced sentence in exchange for all the intel you have on the remaining Hydra heads still out there. You’ll act as an informant, helping to bring them to an end, once and for all. And maybe, after you’ve paid your dues, there’ll be a chance for you to live something close to a normal life. When the call ends, you're washed over with a feeling of real freedom, despite knowing it might cost you Wanda all over again.

Later that night, you find Wanda in the kitchen, stirring a pot and humming a tune you don't recognize, looking more alive than she has in weeks. Seeing her like this is bittersweet; she’s here, but soon, you might not be.

She notices you and gives a small, relieved smile. “You’re back,” she says.

“Yeah, I had a craving for this specific brand of red wine…” You say, tossing out a casual lie since you did swing by the grocery store, and errands are a regular part of your routine.

“Red wine?” Wanda perks up. “Perfect, I’m just about done with dinner. It should pair nicely.”

The kitchen smells foreign but amazing, and you can't help but compliment her. “It smells incredible in here,” you say as you start setting the table. 

Wanda smiles softly as she turns down the stove and grabs a bowl to serve. You set out two wine glasses and place them on the table.

You pour a generous amount of red wine into each glass and watch as Wanda carries the meal over. 

“Thanks for dinner,” you say with genuine appreciation.

“Try it and tell me what you think,” she urges, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she watches you with anticipation.

You take a bite, the flavors unique and perfectly blended. Looking up, you see her watching you, eager for your reaction.

“Well?” she asks impatiently.

You laugh, then wipe the corners of your mouth with your thumb. “Don't you already know?” you tease, hinting at her telepathic abilities.

Wanda pretends to be offended, crossing her arms. “I haven’t read your mind in a long time.”

You can’t help but be a little skeptical of her claim. “Since when?”

Wanda blinks, her gaze veering away as she hesitates, clearly not eager to revisit the memory. 

You give her a gentle nudge, mimicking her earlier prodding “Well?”

Wanda turns to face you, her bottom lip pushed out slightly in a pout. “Since I saw you were sleeping with the director’s daughter.”

Saw? Did she see everything I did with Laura? The thought that Wanda witnessed it all like a scene playing out in front of her makes your stomach twist. You blush, mortified. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” you mumble, looking away.

Wanda shakes her head, trying to dispel her lingering jealousy. “I shouldn't have been peering into your head that much to begin with,” she says softly.

Your ears catch on a particular phrase. “‘That much’?” 

It’s Wanda’s turn to blush, her cheeks flushing deeper as she quickly downs the rest of her wine and then holds out her glass for a refill. Deciding to show some mercy, you pour her another glass without prying further. The conversation stalls into an awkward silence until you finally decide to break it by giving your verdict on the dinner.

“By the way, this is delicious,” you say, adding another serving to your plate.

Wanda's face lights up, her smile stretching so wide that she looks almost like a giddy child. But then, she is young. You can’t help but imagine how she'll fit in with them. Steve, in particular, seems like he’d be good for her. Even though you don't know him well, that one phone call was enough to get a sense of his character and leadership. He seems like the kind of guy who'd really look out for Wanda, in ways you can't.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” Wanda suddenly asks.

Your smile falls a little, but you manage to keep it there. You wish she could read your mind now, that she could understand the choices you’ve made today better than you could ever explain them. You’re not abandoning her—you’re setting her free from this life. You've done too many unspeakable things to ever truly deserve a quiet life with her. Eventually, your past will catch up to you, and the opportunity for Wanda to do something good might slip away if she’s still tied to you. You wish she could see how much you care for her, how much she’s changed you. Because of her, you’ve felt the desire to be good again, to be human again. To open yourself not just to grief, but also to love.

You wish—

“Maybe we can visit that lake you mentioned? I've spent my whole life in Sokovia but never really left Novi Grad,” Wanda suggests.

“Rain check?” you say, trying your best to sound like tomorrow isn’t goodbye. Steve wanted to move quickly, and you’ll be expecting him and a small squad tomorrow, no later than noon. “I’m thinking I might just stay in, catch up on some reading.”

Wanda cocks her head, a puzzled look on her face. You’ve been the one pushing her to get out of the cabin more, so your answer isn’t what she’s expecting. But she likes the idea. She just wants to spend time with you. The hole Pietro left in her heart is only bearable when she’s with you.

“Okay,” she mumbles, starting to clear the dishes. You place a hand over hers, silently telling her you’ll take care of it later. Leaning in, you plant a soft kiss on her lips.

“You want to go to bed early?” you whisper quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

She looks up at you, a playful gasp escaping her lips. 

“Just to sleep,” you add quickly. I just want to hold you all night, one last time.

“I might not be sleepy right off the bat, maybe if you tire me out—”

“Naughty,” you chuckle softly, giving her nose a gentle tap.

“You love it.”

“I—” Love you. You want to say it, but you don’t want to make it harder for you both when the time comes.

Without another word, you grab her hand, holding on to this moment, to her, for as long as you can.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Pietro Maximoff x mutant fem!reader

Summary: You hate Pietro for how he treats you, or at least you do until you're stuck in an elevator with him.

Genre: hurt and comfort, enemies to lovers (only they aren't "enemies") <3

Warnings: Pietro is a dick in the beginning, panic attacks, claustrophobia, swearing, i use Czech to represent Sokovian (probably shitty translation)

~ thank you for requesting @princesssunderworld! loved this prompt sm! i wrote this for Pietro because we need more Pietro content asap and i have so many wips for Tangerine already! I hope you like this! ~

PIETRO MAXIMOFF MASTERLIST

Pietro Maximoff is quite possibly your worst nightmare. 

While he does have the face of an angel, all doe-eyed and charming smile, he somehow manages to make your life a living hell. He's like some beautiful, insufferable, devil that constantly insists on sitting promptly on your shoulder. 

Mostly, he spends his days finding any excuse to either argue with you or undermine you. During training, he constantly makes snarky comments on your form and purposefully speeds by you to knock you on your ass. He'll always wear the same smirk when you chew him out, almost like he's amused and you despise it.

You hate him. 

And most of all, you hate how it makes you feel. How he makes your cheeks feel warmer and that unfamiliar feeling bubble in your stomach. 

Wanda tries to convince you he has a school-boy crush on you—like some little boy who likes pulling little girls' hair on the playground. You don't want to hear it. He's a grown man now, not a boy anymore. If he has a crush, he should deal with it like an adult. 

One afternoon, Pietro had just pulled one of his so-called pranks on you, causing you to walk under a bucket of cold water and successfully drenching you and rendering the flames that usually spark from your hands from your anger into smoke.

The Avengers in the room training grow silent as Pietro, sitting on the weightlifting bench, bursts into laughter. 

"Pietro!" Wanda shrieks, immediately rushing to you from where she'd been talking to Vision but you shake your head, frustrated tears threatening to brim in your eyes.

You send Pietro a glare and storm out of the room, shaking your wet sleeves. 

You're too busy mumbling curses under your breath to hear Wanda shout at her twin brother as you furiously press the elevator button. When the doors opens you do hear his voice, however, "Y/n! Princezna (Princess)!" 

You rush into the elevator and spin around, pressing the close button as fast as you can but obviously, Pietro is much faster.

He reaches you before the doors close, almost slamming into you as his body vibrates from the aftermath of his powers. His hand comes up behind your head instinctively so you don't hit your head against the wall and he glances down at you, his blue eyes piercing into yours. 

You push him away just as the elevator wobbles and the sound of something snapping is heard. Pietro's speed must have somehow messed up the elevator system because the elevator starts to fall. 

You gasp, reaching for the only other person in the elevator,  and Pietro is by your side in an instant, crouching you both into one corner, his arms tightening around your waist as the elevator falls three stories and then halts with a loud screech.

Your mutation sometimes manifests when you're stressed, so you barely even register that you've set a part of Pietro's sleeve on fire from where you're clutching his arm until the sprinkler in the elevator turns on, soaking you both. 

"Hey, miláček (darling)," Pietro holds one of your cheeks in his hand, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he sees the white cloud in your eyes disappear and you blink. "You're okay." You're breathing heavily now, staring at him until you snap and push him away, curling your arms around your knees.

You look at the elevator panel only to see it's broken. Pietro is trying his hardest to pry the doors open, but even with his speed, they remain shut.

"Fuck Tony Stark," Pietro groans and slumps to the ground in front of you, running a hand in his silver hair as he sends you a lopsided grin. "You okay, princezna (princess)?" 

You glare at him. 

Pietro lifts his arms in surrender. 

You check your watch. The team should realize something went wrong and rescue you at any moment. You'll be fine, you try reminding yourself but the walls seem to be pressing in faster and faster. You feel dizzy as tears blur your vision and you haven't realized that you've started hyperventilating until Pietro touches your arm. 

You gasp again and look up at him, frightened. His expression softens as he kneels in front of you, looking you over. He looks concerned, which is a first.

"I- I can't breathe," you manage to croak out, your voice strained. As much as you don't want to turn to Pietro for help, you need him. 

Pietro nods, understanding your panic now. He soothes you and holds out his palm. "Breathe. It's okay. You're safe," he says and shakes his palm a little. He wants you to hold his hand. 

You sniffle, still having trouble breathing correctly as your fingers stroke against Pietro's palm and he smiles. His skin is warm and the shock centers you for a moment.

"There. I'm right here, miláček (darling)," he pauses and his hand vibrates a little, controlling his powers just enough so that he can show you he's here. 

The sensation elicits a laugh from you as you look up at him, matching the breathing he's showing you. Pietro's smile widens, his heart only half-breaking from the tears brimming in your eyes and he resists the urge to wipe your cheeks. 

"Shhh, there you go. Breathe. Dýchej, anděli, dýchej (Breathe, angel, breathe)."

Minutes later, Wanda is fussing over you as you sit in the lounge room after Tony rescued you and Pietro. She wraps a towel around your shoulders.

"Are you okay?" She keeps repeating as she ignores her equally wrecked-looking brother standing in the corner as Clint and Steve talk to him. You nod, eyes round from the entire ordeal. 

"Did he make it worse? Because I'll kill him—"

You shake your head, glancing at Pietro. Your cheeks burn hot when you catch his gaze and you snap your head back to Wanda, who just looks confused. 

"No– he helped me," you whisper, watching realization sparkle in her eyes. 

Still, she doesn't say anything.  

* * *

Pietro isn't awful to you anymore. He's the opposite. 

He's sweet. 

You find the shift weird so you avoid him. You avoid him until you physically can't anymore because he's blocking the door to the kitchen as you stand in the refrigerator light, a spoon stuck in your ice cream tub.

Your eyes widen as you look at him. He's wearing his pajamas as they hang just under his v-line, his hair a mess as he yawns. 

"What are you doing up, princezna (princess)?" he asks and walks over, grabbing another spoon and leaning against the counter, and shakes the spoon for you to share the ice cream. You hand him the tub, staring at him intensely.

"What?" Pietro smirks, his mouth full as he winces. "Sakra, je zima (Damn, it's cold)." 

"Thank you," you blurt out. You're a week late but you don't care.

Pietro raises an eyebrow. "For?"

"Helping me in the elevator. It meant a lot," you say, shifting nervously.

Pietro's smile softens and he sets the ice cream down, licking his lips. He walks over, cornering you into the counter but you don't feel threatened. You feel safe. He lifts his hand and hesitates at your cheek.

"Y'know, I'd be quite an asshole to let you suffer like that," he says in a whisper, his Sokovian accent thick as he chuckles. His fingers touch your skin and you shiver, your eyes widening. 

"Didn't stop you before," you mutter.

Pietro frowns. 

"Listen, anděl (angel), I know I haven't been the nicest to you but it's all been in good fun—it's nothing serious," he looks away a moment, searching for his words as he pauses. "I never meant to ever truly hurt you. I- I like you, Y/n. I just didn't know how to tell you so the teasing was easier for me."

You tilt your head, taking in his words. "What was your plan then, Pietro? Make me dislike you so somehow I'd turn around and like you after? That doesn't make any fucking sense. You could have just been sweet like you're being now!"

Pietro looks at you again, his arms caging you in now as his hands flex around the counter. "My feelings for you make no fucking sense," he argues, his eyes locked on yours. "I hate them. I hate how they make me act like a fool when all I want to do is kiss you and hold you close. Vše, co chci, je milovat tě (All I want to do is love you)."

You never wanted to admit it but you love it when he speaks Sokovian and you calm your breathing as your eyes shut. Pietro leans in, his breath ghosting yours. "One word. Say the word and I'll stop. I'll stop everything. I'll leave you alone."

You open your mouth, your eyes following, and you whisper. "Kiss me."

Pietro wastes no time in kissing you, claiming your lips as his own as his hand tightens around your waist. He's pulling you in closer, your body warms so hard as your hands find his cheeks that you're afraid you'll burn him and you try pulling away from him. 

"You won't hurt me," Pietro whispers through his kisses as he refuses to let you go. "I can take it."

You gasp into his mouth as your hands find his hair, pulling on the strands. This feels so unfamiliar and yet, you've never kissed anyone like this. 

Finally, Pietro pulls away and he leans his head on your warm forehead as you catch your breath. 

"Wanda mi dluží dvacet babek (Wanda owes me twenty bucks)," he whispers, mostly to himself as a lovesick smile graces his features. "Moje. Jsi můj. (Mine. You're mine)."

"What are you saying?" you ask, looking into his icy blue eyes you once 'hated' so much.

Pietro smiles and kisses your lips. He doesn't tell you what he means or how he feels. 

Not yet. 

tags: @kravensgirl, @brokeaesthetic, @sayitlikethecheese, @lqrlei

[olsenmyolsen]

Request from anon: Wanda and y/n have been in a relationship for some months and both of them have a crush on Natasha so they decide to invite her for a threesome and she accepts. Y/n and Natasha are g!p

You Both Huh? (18+)

maroon master list . dark master list . request marvel master list . short n’ sweet master list

Post Age of Ultron: (Wanda Maximoff X G!P Reader X G!P Natasha Romanoff)

Summary: You, Wanda, and Natasha discover and learn about each other's bodies.

Word Count: 2.6K

Content: Fluff, Comfort, Feelings, wlw, sex, threesome, oral, porn with plot

This was my first time writing G!P, and I hope I did it justice! Please let me know if I did anything wrong ❤️

Natasha was exhausted.

After a month of being deep undercover and alone with her thoughts in another country, she was finally back home.

Back at the compound.

Back to be with her found family and friends.

Yet only you and Wanda seemed to be home.

As the elevator doors opened, Natasha found the two of you curled up on the couch in the living room. What Natasha doesn't know is how the two of you were waiting for your favorite redhead to come back home. So, as she steps out from the elevator and her boots hit the floor, Wanda lifts her head up and looks back.

A huge smile breaks out on the younger brunette as she turns to you and shakes you awake from your cat nap.

You rub the sleep out of your eyes as Wanda grabs your hand, and the two of you fly off the couch to Natasha. "Oh my gosh, Wanda! Y/n!" Natasha exclaims as she sees you two quickly make your way over. Her bags hitting the ground as she wraps her arms around her friends.

Her friends that just so happen to be a couple that have a crush on her.

But that's for in a little bit!

Natasha's had her suspicions, but she's a spy, so being on guard 24/7 is like her thing.

As you breathe in the dry shampoo from Natasha's hair, you hear Wanda communicate to you. "Tonight can be perfect." You can't help but smirk and turn your head to eye Wanda. "If Natasha is up for it." You communicate back, making Wanda playfully roll her eyes—something Natasha catches.

"Already? I just got back and you two are already having secret conversations?"

"Sorry, babes!" You comment as you let go of Natasha. "Just about our plans for later." Natasha shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "Okay, sure, whatever." Wanda can't help but laugh as Natasha pretends not to believe you.

"So, where's everyone else?" Natasha asks as she picks up her bags, but Wanda's magic stops her as red tendrils pick them up. "Still need to get used to that," Natasha remarks, even if Sokovia was a year ago. Wanda smiles wide.

"Thor is off-world. Tony and Pepper are doing stuff with M.I.T. Cap and Sam are busy with their missing friend. The toaster is still on sleep mode." Natasha laughs at the last dig you throw in while Wanda rolls her eyes as the three of you arrive at Natasha's door.

"And Banner?" She questions before Wanda can make a comment about her robotic friend. You shake your head. "Nothing to report." Natasha hums and nods her head as she opens her door. "Well, maybe that's best."

"Yeah, it's not like you need him," Wanda says, surprising all three of you. You turn to your girlfriend of the last six months, shocked as she drops her mouth. "Oh my gosh! Natasha, I'm so sorry that was supposed to be an inside thought!"

Natasha looks shocked and looks from you to Wanda. Her surprised face slowly morphs into a quizzical look as she tilts her head and leans against her open door. "An inside thought, huh? What did you mean by it?"

Wanda opens and closes her mouth. "Umm." She looks to you, but you don't know how to help Wanda other than telepathically telling her: "Maybe now's the time."

Wanda closes her mouth, and she decides to go for it.

She looks from you to the redhead, still waiting for an answer. "I meant what I said. You don't need him. You don't him for a release o-or for someone to.. connect with... when... when you have us." When Wanda finally gets through her sentence, she peeks into Natasha's green eyes and does her best not to tap into Natasha's mind.

"When I have you both?" Natasha softly questions as you stand next to Wanda and grab her hand. Letting her know you fully appreciate her for speaking up for the both of you.

You nod to the older woman in front of you. "We like you, Tasha."

"A lot," Wanda adds on.

Suddenly, Natasha's suspicions and nagging feelings made a lot more sense. She was right. The two of you had a crush on the Black Widow. Natasha's body relaxed against the door frame as her neutral face turned into a light smile.

"You both, huh?" She questioned as her smile turned more into a smirk. This made the ever-growing feeling in your stomach flip and turn as Wanda squeezed your hand tighter. "Yes," Wanda spoke for the two of you.

"How long?" Natasha asked as her eyes danced from you to your girlfriend and back. "Since... always?" You said as Wanda nodded. "You're kind of impossible not to develop feelings for," Wanda replied, making Natasha laugh before she took a step closer.

"Well, it's a good thing I like to keep an open mind about these types of situations," Natasha said, confusing you slightly. "What type of situations?" You asked as Natasha turned around and kicked open her door wider as she walked into her room.

Wanda's green eyes and your own followed the figure of the redhead. Her back to you as she lifted up her shirt, revealing her black bra straps underneath. She then turned her head halfway towards you and your girlfriend. "These types... Now, are you two going to join me or not?"

Your girlfriend and you had waited for this moment, so it was no surprise when the door closed behind the two of you and locked in record speed due to Wanda's powers. Natasha smiled and loved it as the two of you continued to watch the show she put on. She smirked and kept her back to you both as she slowly unclipped her bra and unbuttoned her black jeans after kicking off her boots.

The sight of Natasha's creamy ass hidden beneath a pair of black boxers made you want to bite your fist. It was hot and slow and left you wanting more as she turned around to you two.

And that's when you saw it.

Your eyes went wide as Wanda's stomach officially blew up with butterflies. The bulge in Natasha's skin-tight boxers was astounding and, best of all... real.

You and Wanda had no idea.

Natasha who had been nervous and otherwise embarrassed with her reveal in the past could see the look in you and your girlfriends eyes and knew she had nothing to worry about.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Natasha smirked as you and Wanda stepped closer and closer. "That's not the word I would use," Wanda spoke shakily before she looked at you.

You swallowed and wasted no time. You slowly undressed and lifted your eyes to Natasha's green orbs. Wanda followed along as her sundress quickly slipped off and pooled around her feet.

A sight Natasha lightly gasped at as the only thing Wanda wore underneath was a pair of red cotton panties.

"I guess this is one more thing we have in common." You spoke to Natasha as she turned her eyes to you as you slipped off your black pants.

Now it was Natasha's turn for her eyes to go wide as she drank you and your sizable middle section. "Holy shit." She whispered into the room as you threw your shirt off and grabbed Wanda's hand.

All three of you standing in your underwear. Your eyes dance from one person to the other.

Natasha took the lead after a moment and closed the distance between you and Wanda. She dropped her hand to where you and Wanda held each other and grabbed it. "I have to say you two continue to surprise me." Natasha turned her head to the brunette. "Especially you, Wanda."

"Me?" Your girlfriend questioned, making Natasha nod as she led you to her king-sized bed.

Leave it to Natasha to never be at the compound but have a king-sized bed.

Natasha's legs hit the bed before she swung her legs around and started moving back toward her headboard. You and Wanda followed as you crawled onto the bed on your knees. "Well, I never would've thought that Sokovian girl in my red jacket would be up for such... activities."

Wanda blushed as she turned her head away. Natasha looks to you. "But now I see why." Natasha looks you up and down and moves her hands to brush along your sides as Wanda looks back at you both.  You shiver and feel your body jolt at the contact. "Kiss me," Natasha speaks to you as her hands form a grip on your hips as she moves her legs out from under her.

"Do it."

You listen to Wanda's voice in your head, and Natasha commands and moves forward, crashing your lips into Natasha, making the older woman fall back with shock before she closes her eyes and savors the taste of you.

With hunger, your rushed kiss turns into a heated make-out session that leaves Wanda feeling more and more aroused as she watches your body fall into Natasha's. Wanda can't help but dart her green eyes down to see how you and Natasha have grown larger.

The feeling of desire darkens Wanda's eyes as a quiet moan escapes her lips—something Natsha's jewelry-covered ears pick up and makes her slow the taste of your tongue.

Natasha opens her eyes and slowly pushes you by your shoulders just a tad as she looks from Wanda back to you. Natasha can't help but smile at the look Wanda wears. "Now, now, we can't forget about a special someone," Natasha says to you, making you shake your head. "No, we can't." Your words come out almost breathless as you lift off Natasha, grab Wanda by her hand, and pull her close. "Come here, baby."

Wanda obeys and moves to the postion you were just in, pleasing you and Natasha.

"Oh, hi there, beautiful," Natasha says as Wanda looks down at the redhead. "Hi." Wanda shyly smiles and giggles before Natasha runs her hand through Wanda's hair and places her hand on the back of Wanda's skull. "Come here." Natasha softly whispers as she gently lowers Wanda onto her and kisses the witch's pink lips.

You watch from behind as the two move with slow passion. Dear lord, and just when you think the night couldn't get better, your eyes and hand start to trail down Wanda's backside past her scars and moles. 

Down to her underwear, you find a growing wet spot and smile.

Wanda gasps into Natasha's lips as you start to pull down the red cotton panties. Natasha notices and moves her hand from Wanda's side and across her hips.

Wanda does her best to close her legs as Natasha touches her, but Natasha pushes them open and looks up to the brunette with a smile. "It's okay. Let us take care of you." Natasha lifts her left hand up to cup Wanda's face as her right-hand skims the top of Wanda's clit. "And then you can take care of me," Natasha smirks before her tongue enters Wanda's mouth.

The younger woman accepts it and moans into Natasha's mouth as she feels you shift on the bed, and Natasha's fingers circle her wet clit.

Your hands coming in contact with her bare ass moments later.

And then Wanda feels your naked thighs brush up against the backs of hers. "Oh, baby." You moan, making Wanda and Natasha stop to turn and look at you.

"Fuck look at that," Natasha says as you hold your penis lining it up to Wanda's entrance. Wanda closes her eyes and turns her head back to collapse her body onto Natasha.

Natasha smiles as she watches and feels Wanda's breath against her chest as you slowly push forward. Wanda whimpers and moans against Natasha's skin before the redhead lifts her face and kisses her.

"It feels so good." Wanda quietly says between the two of them. Natasha nods. "I know, baby." She replies by bringing her right hand back up to Wanda. Her middle and ring fingers glistened from Wanda's wetness. Natasha looks from her hand to Wanda's face and brings it to the brunette's lips.

Without being told, Wanda opens her mouth and closes it around the two fingers before she sucks and tastes herself.

"My, my Wanda, you are a good girl." Wanda moans around Natasha's fingers and shuts her eyes as you push deeper into her. The feeling of pleasure radiates off her body and onto Natasha, who smirks and loves the sight before her.

With a smile, Natasha slowly pulls her finger out of Wanda's mouth. Wanda's lips fall against the callous skin before flipping back up once Natasha leaves her.

Wanda opens her eyes again as Natasha runs her hand up Wanda's face to her head. "You're taking her so well, aren't you?" Natasha asks, making you smile. Wanda nods without any words escaping her mouth. "Do you think you can handle more?" Natasha asks Wanda, who nods again. "Yes."

Regardless of the answer, Natasha was going to push on Wanda's head. But the brunette started moving down willingly as her lips left a trail of hot kisses down Natasha's front exposed body until she reached the band of her black boxers.

Wanda was getting more and more lost in the lust of the situation as she touched Natasha, and you fucked her doggy style, making her start to act on desire.

Not that Natasha minded the watching and feeling Wanda's hot breath and tongue work up and down the outline of her cock against the fabric. The friction and the need for it to be released made Natasha squirm just a bit, but it was not enough to make Wanda drunk with power.

Because even she wanted to taste it and feel it slide down her throat.

So she gave in and let her hot hands pull down Natasha's boxers, exposing the redhead's cock to the cool air of the room. "O-oh my gosh, Natasha." Wanda practically moaned as you thrust into her. She looked up to her friend, who wore a smirk. "Go ahead." Natasha encouraged to which Wanda nodded and wasted no time licking her lips and taking the tip into her mouth as Wanda's hand wrapped itself around the base.

As Natasha fell back, your girlfriend's head began to bob up and down.

You didn't think anything else would be hotter.

And yet, when Natasha's hand pushed down onto Wanda's head, making her gag as Natasha smirked, you found true bliss.

You found it again as Natasha moaned and moaned due to the vibrations coming from Wanda's screams of pleasure on Natasha's cock as you gripped the brunette's hips and pounded into her. 

And then again and again as you, Wanda, and Natasha explored each other and made each other feel loved, cared for, dirty, and like a bunch of sluts all night.

You cumming in Wanda never made Natasha feel so good.

But after that night, it wasn't just you and Wanda.

It was the three of you together.

It's a good thing Tasha had that king bed and that Baner, who you didn't know, swung both ways, was off-world.

What an idiot.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[bgwlsmahf25]

If She Could, She Would

natasha romanoff x reader

warnings: none?

genre: fluff

a/n: tried to stick to canon for this one! hopefully I got it right, just after winter soldier and the beginnings of age of ultron :) let me know if you want part 2!

It was extremely early, far too early to be getting out of bed. Wearily, you stumbled around your room, pulling on your uniform and finding your boots as the alarm kept blaring. Somewhere in the world, the Avengers were wanted in assistance and you were being pulled from sleep to monitor them.

Once you arrived in the corridors outside the science laboratories, you realised how big the situation was. It was chaos, people charging everywhere. Maria stood calmly directing people, a clipboard under one arm and a tablet balanced in her hand. She made eye contact and waved you over. Her hair was in a slicked back bun, yet strands of it were already falling out, framing her face. “Agent y/l/n.”

“Maria. What can I do?” You took a tablet from a passing agent and began swiping through the briefs as they appeared on your screen. Some were already assigned to other SHIELD agents, but most were blank. You watched your colleagues fill in their names on various briefs, taking them as they were directed by Maria and other SHIELD executives.

“For now, traffic monitoring. This place has been chaotic since the helicarriers went down. Romanoff’s been speaking to the Senate, they’re not convinced but we have them where we want them at the moment - in our eyesight. Fury’s dead, Rogers and Wilson are in Europe currently but just informed me they might need to head to Africa on a lead, not sure what is going on there.” You waited patiently, knowing Maria was speaking aloud to sort her thoughts out. “Stand here or go somewhere else with Internet reach, I don’t care where, and continue sending these briefs out. Chase anyone who isn’t assigned to something and give them something to do.”

“What will you do?” you said, already typing.

“I need to find Romanoff. If you see her, send her to me.” You nodded, but Maria was already walking off, speaking to agents as she went.

***

“I left for five minutes,” a strong voice said behind you. You looked around to see Natasha surveying the agents rushing about and the general chaos. “What happened?”

“I…” Then you realised she was teasing. After all, she had been present when Rogers and Wilson departed. “I thought you’d left?”

“I’m not that easy to get rid of.” She nodded at an agent walking by and then looked at you with a firm, level gaze. “Besides, I need to talk to Maria before I disappear.”

“She went that way,” you pointed. “So the rumours are true.”

“What rumours would those be?” Natasha’s expression was unreadable, but you detected a flicker of sadness - no, wistfulness in her gaze.

“That you’re disappearing. Leaving SHIELD as it’s sinking.”

She didn’t reply, just kept on staring at you, and you realised she wasn’t going to answer. Natasha’s non-answers were answers in themselves. She rarely said more than she needed to, but you’d become accustomed to interpreting her body language. “Is that really how you see me?”

“No,” you replied, perhaps too quickly. “I see a woman who needs to step away from the spotlight.”

“Was I ever in it?” The question was more for her benefit rather than yours and you were left pondering your answer as Natasha walked off down the corridor, in search of Maria. You found yourself wondering about the redhead. Where would she go? What would be her mission now, or was she a free agent, able to choose her work as it suited her?

***

“...and I’m telling you, they’re valuable here. I need them where the action is, Natasha, surely you can appreciate the importance of that.”

“I could use their skills and knowledge in the field.” Natasha paused and sucked in a breath. “It would be helpful to have someone with decency towards SHIELD.”

“They have no heart towards SHIELD, they answer to me.”

“And what are you now, Maria? Nick’s gone, Steve and Sam are too, James Barnes is out there somewhere… HYDRA didn’t pack their bags once SHIELD collapsed. You know it and I know it. They’re the real enemy and right now, we’re at our weakest and they’re just gathering strength.”

“And how do you know that?” Maria sighed in frustration. “I don’t doubt your sources, Romanoff, you’ve got a good many of them out there. I just need to know that you’re not retreating forever. We might need your assistance very soon.”

“Then I’ll just have to be quick, won’t I?”

You stepped aside as Natasha left the room. She glanced at you, opened her mouth to say something, then closed it and carried on walking down the corridor, head bowed and obviously deep in thought.

“Agent y/l/n, I know you’re there. Come on in.”

You took a deep breath and stepped into Maria’s office. Well, it used to be her office but as you glanced around, you realised that she was packing her things. “You’re leaving too?” The surprise in your tone was evident.

“Until we find somewhere better to be. I’m not leaving, y/n, I’m just leaving this room.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and typed something out on her tablet. You could see a string of messages coming in and realised that Maria had a life outside SHIELD too. “How much did you hear?”

“Nearly all of it,” you admitted. “Why does Romanoff need me?” You hesitated. “...It was me she talked about, wasn’t it?”

“And this is exactly why I need you here! You’re too damn useful, y/n.” Maria sighed. “SHIELD’s gone and it’s a free world, so I’ll give you the choice. Assist me in relocating and rebuilding SHIELD to a better standard and try not to get further mired down in the political devastation of this whole calamity. Or assist Romanoff with god knows what, though it’s likely to be dangerous and highly secretive, capering about over Europe and Africa and I think she mentioned something about Florida, though I can’t think why.”

“Dangerous and highly secretive sounds interesting and exciting but I’m more concerned with SHIELD rebuilding itself and going after HYDRA,” you admitted. “I’m an agent, but I wouldn’t consider myself a spy quite yet.”

“So you’ll stay?” Maria sounded surprised. “I thought you’d pick Natasha.”

“I’m not one to take sides, but I’m not someone who’ll abandon a sinking ship that easily.”

***

“You’re not who I thought you were.” Natasha eyed you shrewdly. “Staying to support Maria… are you sure you won’t change your mind?”

“I - I need to be here. It feels right,” you said awkwardly. “Maria’s given me control of your incoming traffic though, for decryption.”

“Hmm.” Natasha watched the constant movement of agents and goods around you. She obviously wanted to say more, but instead closed her mouth and shook her head. “Well… I’ll be in touch.”

“I know,” you replied simply. “And if you ever feel like taking a break, I hear Times Square is very nice. I go there on weekends.” You weren’t sure why you were telling Natasha about your favourite spot in the city, but you didn’t regret it.

“Interesting.” She smiled briefly then nodded. “Alright. Time Square. I’ll… consider it.

***

Time passed quickly. SHIELD was rebuilding and HYDRA was coming down, but it was all taking far longer than you or Maria had realised it would. Maria was now concerned with the ever-increasing workload that the SHIELD directorship generated and repeatedly found herself in executive board meetings and exasperating talks with Tony Stark.

The Avengers facility, or the compound as it was more familiarly known, was still under development yet already recognised as the new birthplace of SHIELD. You were slowly training yourself in espionage, still recording and monitoring Natasha’s traffic from her various exotic locales, and always taking a weekend trip to Times Square. A part of you deep down wanted her to show up, to tell you that she needed a break, but you knew she wouldn’t stop until HYDRA was eliminated.

Natasha was working on another mission and any correspondence addressed to ‘My dear friend Andre’ was being immediately sent to Maria without you decrypting it first. You had strong suspicions that before his death, Fury had given further orders to Natasha, and she was carrying them out posthumously according to his instructions.

Bruce Banner the scientist was showing up more and more often now, often deep in conversation with Tony Stark, and also often in the science laboratories at the compound, running various chemical substances and long lines of code, neither of which made any sense to you. Tony was often found talking to Maria as well, broadcasting the value of the Avengers Initiative to anyone who’d listen and slowly increasing his hold in the corporate aspects of SHIELD.

***

Natasha, I wish you were here. Tony is an insufferable bore, constantly talking about his own ideas and plans for SHIELD, and Maria is reaching the end of her tether. I don’t know why I’m talking about him anyway. I miss you

You crossed it out and sighed, crumpling the piece of paper and shredding it into smaller and smaller pieces before depositing them into separate litter bins as you walked through Times Square.

Even at the early hour, the square was busy, filled with tourists chattering and watching the ever-changing displays. You watched a fashion advert about a model you vaguely recognised, your mind a million miles from New York. You were imagining Natasha, crouched in a dark alleyway somewhere in Europe, hot on the heels of a shadowy assassin…

“It’s smaller than I imagined.”

You jumped out of your skin and looked around frantically, only calming down when you spotted the object of your thoughts watching you with an amused expression. Natasha looked healthy but you could see the worry lines on her face and the tiredness in her eyes. Her red hair was short and wavy, tied back in a ponytail and she looked casual in a pair of suit trousers and a leather jacket. You could see the faded red Converse you’d given her several Christmases ago, peeking out from the flared edge of the trousers.

“Your letter was nice,” she continued. “Maybe don’t call Stark a bore, you clearly haven’t talked to him.”

“He called me ‘somewhat pretty,’” you groaned. “The man’s on my blacklist whether he wants to be or not.” You stared at Natasha. “Why are you here? I mean, why now? I’ve been coming for weeks.”

“I know.”

“You know?” You stared at Natasha, realisation flooding your mind. “So you have been here before?! And I got led on a wild goose chase. Gee, thanks,” you muttered bitterly, turning and walking away across the square.

“Y/n, wait.” You stopped but didn’t turn around. “Please don’t leave. I - I needed to see you.”

“Me?” Her words had got your attention, just as she predicted. “Why?”

“You know why.” The fact you knew and she didn’t have to say it sent shivers down your spine. “You never left my thoughts. I kept wondering.”

“You did?” You smiled. Natasha cared for you and you cared for her. Did anything more need to be said?

***

You’d parted easily, and the spy had informed you that she would be back soon, once she’d finished a meeting.

Meanwhile you headed home, immediately suspicious once you found your front door opened far too easily. Had HYDRA found you?

On the table was a book with a red cover and black lettering: As If You Were Beside Me.

Don’t destroy this, I can’t make another. N

You smiled, recognising Natasha’s handwriting and opened the book. “Oh Nat…” She’d made you an album, a rare gesture and sign of weakness from the redhead, filled with plane tickets, movie stubs and photos.

You sat cross legged on your kitchen floor, the book balanced across your lap, and examined each page carefully and for increasing periods of time.

Natasha had documented some of her travels, as if you were there beside her. There were many slightly blurry photos, her camera held at arm’s length, her smile forced in some (she’d taken some pretty bad injuries and beatings and it made you wince).

There were receipts from places she’d eaten, decorated with little smiley faces and other curious doodles.

Finally, at the back of the book, Nat had written a longer message:

You have to know that you mean something to me. If you are half the person I know you to be, then you’ll have already figured that out. I don’t do a lot of things but I would with you. N

You wiped tears from your eyes, a strange deep ache tugging at your heart. Oh how you wished she was beside you right now! But you knew she had to announce her return to Maria and Tony, and she’d join you as soon as she could.

[toothfa-1-ry]

I'LL BE BACK BEFORE YOU EVEN KNOW IT P.M

Snap

And that's all it took to wipe out half of humanity,

Snap, lesser than even 5 seconds and yet Pietro Maximoff could swear that it was all the time it took for his entire world to screech to a sudden stop

And so he ran, he ran to you and in a blur, no less than 5 seconds there he was right next to you, eyes widened and frantically holding you, looking at you

"are you alright- are you fine are you feeling okay"

Pietro was many things but not the idiot he usually pretended to be, he wasn't the idiot you and his sister would call him though neither of you would believe that he was

He knew that something was wrong with the air suddenly.

Wakanda was a beautiful place even amidst the ongoing war but something was wrong, something was wrong in the universe the minute Thanos snapped his fingers and Pietro knew it, and he knew that you and everyone around him could feel it too.

"dragâ mea- look at me hey- look at me" Pietro commanded, his voice filled with urgency as he spoke to you

"he snapped his fingers didn't he?" You muttered "something really bad is happening Pietro- i- I don't think thanos was bluffing about wiping off half of humanity"

"no- your fine. We are both fine- we're okay" Pietro gripped your hands enclosing them with his, the both of you were going to be fine, he thought, the both of you had to be fine-

You could hear shouts from afar, surprise, shocked, and full of grief. You knew, whatever Thanos had planned had already started

"P- Pietro I don't- I" you began shaking, you felt weird, you felt as if though you might just turn into dust and fade away

"no no no- no your going to be fine no you can't-" Pietro firmly refused to believe that something would happen to you "let me go check- nothing bads going to happen to you or me princesta- nothing bad"

You could hear his accent thicken even more as he began rambling. You knew he was worried despite the words he was saying, despite what he told you he believed

Pietro turned "nothing bads happening, we both know Thanos was just bluffing he was lying- he was trying to scare us he would never- let me go check princesta I swear I'll be right back"

He began talking really fast, desperate to prove to you that it was a lie, desperate to prove to himself that it was all a lie. Thanos's plan, everything. He was going to prove it

"no wait Pietro!" You suddenly shouted out just before he sped away

"dragâ please- y/n? Y/n!"

You look down at yourself and then at Pietro who stared at you in pure disbelief

He shook his head furiously and blinked as fast as he could to hide his tears

"no- no! No your not going- I'm not going to let you go too" his arms enclosed your body as he hugged you tightly as if though that would prevent your body from being faded away

"Pietro- don't.. don't-" you choke back your words "Pietro look at me, please look at me"

Pietro stubbornly refused to let go despite you pleads, he refused to answer back to opting to hold you even closer

"I can't let you go- don't ask me to do such things you know I can't" his voice trembled as he spoke, his voice never trembled like that before

"Pietro" you spoke again, your shaky voice trying very hard to appear calm but miserably failing

"please y/n please" he begged

"Pietro!" You shouted, shaking away from his hold, leaving space between the both of you, you look into his red teary eyes and he looks into yours

You hands clasp his face gently as he shakes his head softly murmuring no repeatedly,

"oh Pietro-" your forhead touches his and you can hear his sobs

"please don't go-" his voice cracks "you can't go my love"

"I'm not going anywhere, I'm always going to be with you- "

Pietro shook his head

"look at me, my sweet sweet boy, please look at me"

His blue eyes looked straight into yours and you felt the air inside of you vanishing

"I'll be back before you even know it"

You manage to mutter out before you too along with half of humanity vanished away. Away from the life you had half lived, away from the dreams you had half dreamt and away from the people you had truly fully loved with all your heart.

You couldn't hear Pietro's cries after that, his screams, his grief. You couldn't hear his agony and his pleads because you didn't exist, atleast not anymore, maybe now, solely on his memories.

-

He ran, like he always used to

Except this time, he seemed to forget to stop. He forgot to sleep, to eat, he would survive of course, he was bred to survive, to never stop,

So that's what he did, he never stopped running

The world still needed saving. Just this time not from robots and aliens but rather saving from it's own self agony, it's own crippling depression.

And Pietro was still a part of the quote un quote Avengers, whether he wanted to or not so he always found himself running to help people and forgetting that he too needs help

He has seen the look in people's faces, he has seen the very same in Nat's and the same face would stare at him everytime he faced a mirror

A face of regret, guilt and perhaps even self hatred. Pietro was disgusted at himself

He hadn't shaved for a while, his roots were outgrown and his eyes that you once described as a tsunami of emotions now remained still like a frozen lake during winter

But even so, he never stopped running, except he didn't know what he was running towards or rather, what he was running from.

He stopped calling himself a part of the Avengers, even though Nat and Steve still did, it made no sense, the Avengers had broken down years ago and half of the members no longer existed.

Tony was tired and done. Pietro knew he had all the right to be, he saw the state he was in when he came back from space,

Barton was-

Barton couldn't care less, Pietro didn't cared either. They both lost everything, but sometimes Pietro wished that atleast the both of them could have held on to one another but it was no use now, after all he didn't even try to stop Barton when he came to give him a final goodbye

The world had darken. He thought the world was a cruel and evil place before but now it was nothing, it was just a huge shadow and every where he went he was reminded of his failure, a failure as a hero, a friend and a failure towards you.

He was running when he got a call from Natasha

"Pietro- where are you?"

"running" a short reply came on one end

".. something came up" Natasha paused and Pietro could hear the hitch on her breath

"Pietro" she repeated his name again "I think- sorry" she corrected "we think we can bring them back"

Pietro finally stopped

"Nat.. don't do this to me, please- don't I cannot- I cannot do it, not anymore" the sokovian boy said

The other line remained silent, after all what could Natasha even say

"do you really believe that we can bring them back?" Pietro asked

"it's..it's almost impossible but.. I believe in it Pietro- it's a crazy dysfunctional idea but I believe in it and so does Steve"

Pietro wanted to run away

"the question is do you?"

He really wanted to run away

"I want to believe in it too" he whispered back

Pietro already lost his parents once and he swore that he won't lose his sister, but he ended up losing everyone he loved

"Bruce is on it and Tony-"

Natasha paused at his name and Pietro held his breath

Mr Stark

"Tony is still deciding" Natasha carefully placing her words

" we'll be waiting for you in the tower. You know where" Natasha said

"okay"

"okay, hey Pietro?"

"yea?"

"I seriously believe in this okay?"

Pietro doesnt reply back, he doesn't need to, he knows it has to work, he had to see you again.

-

[moon-language-0]

"If they're sleeping here, some of them are gonna have to double up..." "Yeah... that's not gonna sell."

'There Was Only One Bed' Stony AoU manip for through fire below, and fire above, and fire within by @fohatic

[softestqueeen]

slipping and gliding pt. 1

pairing: natasha romanoff x afab!reader

summary: When the Avengers spend a day at the local water park, you start to see a certain redhead in a different light. You’ve never had anything with a woman before, but Natasha doesn’t mind showing you what feels good.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!! semi-public sex, fingering, shower sex, inexperienced reader, shy reader, kissing, pet names (sweetheart)

wordcount: 2053 words

a/n: Yess, finally I’m writing something that’s wlw! I’ve wanted to do this for quite some time, and this is the perfect scenario. Enjoy <3

After a few incredibly stressful weeks, filled with mission after mission, Tony Stark decided that the Avengers needed a little break. So, he did what was every teenagers wet dream. (pun intended)

He rented out a whole water park.

Jup. The whole thing, just for the lot of you.

But you didn’t mind it. You could lounge around, eat for free at the buffet, and when laying in the sun got too hot you could go for a swim or try out the huge slide, which was the highlight of the park.

You, the other girls of the team, and also a few of the other SHIELD agents, like Maria Hill were lounging around, when you suddenly had the urge to go down that huge slide. It just looked like so much fun and you definitely needed an adrenaline rush that was not induced by the possibility of getting killed.

You got up, announced to the group that you would check out the slide and off you were. After a few meters you noticed someone joining you.

When you looked to the side you saw your colleague and good friend Natasha Romanoff falling into step with you.

“You can only use the slide with someone else. There are only swimming rings for two. But I’ll gladly go with you.”, after that the redhead sent you a wink and a smile. Only a small whispered ‘thank you’ left your lips before you looked ahead of you again and got lost in your thoughts.

Did she always look this good? This was the first time you noticed how smooth her hair falls over her shoulder or how beautiful the head looks that sits on that pretty neck. Her skin was flawless, and she looked like she just stepped out of a magazine. You could see why she was called the most beautiful Avenger.

Did you feel attracted to Natasha? No, that’s impossible. You’ve never felt something for another woman, nor had something with one and you and Nat were only friends! Why did she suddenly make you feel this way?

It seemed like it was only getting warmer and warmer and you were glad that you were about to go on that slide and get into the icy water.

The two of you were silent on the way up, the stairs seeming to stretch into eternity. But before you could overthink your feelings even more, the two of you arrived at the top and the instructor showed you how to sit down on the swimming ring.

Nat sat down into the first opening, and you sat down in front of her. You both laid down flat and you laid onto her, your head between her boobs and your lower back touched her most intimate parts.

Being this close to her made you feel some kind of way. You didn’t have too much time to think about it though, because in the next moment you were sliding down, and all other thoughts were gone.

You and Nat enjoyed the short but exciting ride, screaming in excitement . You hit the water and felt Natashas body covering yours before she smoothly slid up from you and dived to the surface. You followed after her and when you both resurfaced and made eye contact, you broke out into laughter.

It seemed like everything went back to normal, though you still couldn't get her out of you head and stop your racing mind.

You returned the ring and made you way back to the towels and lounge chairs. Once there you grabbed a towel and a fresh bathing suit.

“I’m going to head to the lockers, I need to put on a dry bathing suit.”, you told Nat before heading to the building where the lockers were. There were also showers and changing rooms inside of it, so all of it was easily accessible.

You entered the building and went to the showers. Putting down your towel and dry change, you were about to take off your bikini when you felt two hands grabbing your waist and turning you around.

You could just make out Nat’s face before she pressed you against the wall and pressed her lips to yours. You let out a surprised gasp before you got lost in her taste, her scent seeming to overwhelm you. She grabbed your waist again and pulled your wet bodies against each other before she grabbed your ass with her free hand. The sudden action made you gasp, and Nat didn’t waste this opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

Her hands start to roam your body and you were getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

When you both pulled away, Nat whispered against your lips. “I know you want this too, sweetheart.”

You just nodded, not listening to what she was actually saying. You just wanted, no needed, to feel her lips against yours again. You put one of your hands on the back of her neck and the other one went to her waist.

You pulled her in and connected your lips again. Both your and Nat’s hands were now freely roaming and groping each other. You were sure that the wetness you were feeling did not just come from the pool.

You were kissing a little more before you felt Nat’s thigh between your legs, pressing up against you, stimulating your clit and making you moan into her mouth. She kept on moving her thigh and squeezing your hips, holding you in place. It didn’t take long before you felt Nat’s hand roaming again and wandering towards your middle.

You were quick to catch her wrist, stopping her from going any further. She pulled away and looked at you, puzzled, because she thoughts that’s what you wanted.

“I’m sorry Nat. I haven’t done any of this before.”, you told her while looking at the floor, not daring to look into her eyes that you were sure were filled with anger towards you.

But Nat was having none of it and put a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to meet her understanding and soft gaze.

“You’ve never had sex before? Sweetheart are you a virgin?”, she asked you without a hint of deception in her voice.

“Well, I had sex before, just never with a woman. I guess in that aspect; yea, I’m still a virgin.”, you answered with a sheepish smile and a blush on your cheeks.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good. Trust me.”, she whispered against your lips before she kissed you again and you believed her every word.

She kept pressing her thigh against you and you slowly started to meet her thrusts and grind down on her, slowly gaining more confidence.

Her hands started roaming your body again, while you were still holding onto her neck and waist. Her hand was slowly wandering towards your core again, but before she touched you, she pulled away.

“Is it okay when I touch you here, sweetheart?”, she asked you.

You just nodded before pressing your lips against hers again.

Her hands travelled towards your wet pussy, going under your bikini bottom. You let out a soft gasp when you felt her hand moving between your folds. She tested out the waters by spreading your wetness around, caressing your folds before making contact with your swollen clit.

Feeling her at your sensitive clit made you moan into her mouth. The kiss wasn’t as heated anymore but slowed down felt more intimate. Her thigh stopped pressing against you now that her hand took over.

She removed her hand and pulled away, making you whine and chase her lips.

“Patience, sweetheart.”, were the only words that left her mouth before she opened the strings on your bikini top.

Her thigh went back to your cunt, stimulating you while she started caress your boobs. She slowly traced them with featherlight touches before she went over to straight up groping you. You let out moans and whimpers at the stimulation you were getting both from her thigh and her hands.

Her hands on you felt incredible and you wished you could feel her on you forever. She leaned forwards and started to trail kissed over your boobs and over your sternum. Your hand moved from her neck into her hair when you felt her lips on one of your perked nipples.

She slightly sucked on it and circled her lips around it, just how you imagined she would do it with your clit. The thought of her mouth on your cunt made a new flood of wetness rush to your core.

She repeated the same treatment on your other breast before she completely pulled away.

“How about we take this to the shower?”, she asked you with a smile on her face.

“That sounds good.”, you answered her, but you were quickly left speechless when you saw Nat taking off her black bathing suit.

She was breathtaking. She was always beautiful but seeing her completely bare was something else. The soft curve of her breasts and hips, her toned stomach and legs that seem to go on forever.

She took your hand in hers to lead you to one of the showers and once she turned around you could see a small tattoo adorning her lower back. That simple fact made her seem even more human and vulnerable, the fact that under that beautiful façade was a human being that had gone through so much.

But once she put on the shower and you felt the droplets of water gliding down your bodies all other thoughts were erased from your mind. All that was left was the sight of Natasha under the stream of water, momentarily closing her eyes to feel the warm water.

You joined her under the spray, pressing your lips against hers. She was quick to press you against the wall again, immediately taking over.

The kiss got more intense, and her hand went to your pussy again. She started to slide between your folds and circled your clit, finding a steady rhythm.

Once you’ve gotten used to the feeling of her hand against you, Nat took it a step further. With her middle finger she entered your tight pussy, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. She slowly started to pump her finger in and out of you, slowly adding a second finger while her thumb was stroking your clit, and her other hand was groping your ass. Your hips were moving against her hand and your wet bodies were pressed together, gliding over each other, the steady stream of the water only made it more sensual.

When she added a third finger you could feel the coil in your stomach starting to tighten. Nat could feel you clench around her fingers and started pumping them faster, also adding to the pressure on your clit.

You came with shout that was muffled by Nat’s mouth, while she was gradually becoming slower, helping you through your orgasm.

Once you calmed down, she pulled her fingers out of you and gently cupped your face. She pecked your lips before pulling you completely under the stream of the shower with her. She left for a moment, getting some shower gel that was provided and started washing you, her hands gliding over your body making you all worked up again. She lathered shampoo into your hair, massaging your scalp and making you melt into her hands.

Once she was done, you felt the urge to feel her body again, so you gave her the same treatment; gently washing her body and her hair.

Nat pecked your lips once again, before turning off the shower and getting a towel, drying your body and hair before doing the same with herself. Both of you got dressed in some dry clothing.

But before the two of you left the locker area, Nat turned to you.

“How about we cut this little trip short and continue with what we started, sweetheart?”, she asked you, a breathtaking smile on her lips and no shame about her suggestion.

“There’s nothing I’d rather do.”, you truthfully answered before taking her hand in yours, excited about what she has in store for you, once you were back at the tower.

a/n: i'm thinking about writing a part 2, so please tell me if you's like to see/read one. i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueen

part 2

taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @BigBananaa

[moonyvvamp]

Since what if gave me the confirmation that there is and can be a universe where everyone is gay and slowly healing, I'm taking the liberty to write it myself.

Starts after Endgame, Blackhill, Bishova, Agathario, ValCarol and Wanda x Darcy (just trust me on this) are some ships that I've started working into the fic so far. Everyone is on the long rocky road to satisfaction. It gets messy but no person left behind.

Plenty of the pet characters make an appearance. Alpine, Goose, Lucky, Liho and Jeff the Land Shark to name a few.

[earthpleasures]

BON APPÉTİT !

Pietro Maximoff x fem!stripper!reader

Summary: Just a boring mission, what could do wrong?

Warnings: MDNI +18 / swearing, oral sex (m. receiving), body worshipping (m. receiving), dry humping, overstimulation, praise, nipple sucking, throat fucking, dom!reader, sub!pietro.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: istg some kind of horny demon took me over to write this

"'cause I'm all that you want, boy

all that you can have, boy

got me spread like a buffet

bon a, bon appétit, baby"

- bon appétit by katy perry.

Blinding lights of the strip club were pricking right into his eyeballs, making it hard to observe his surroundings. His hand rested on the header of the comfortable couch. He would be lying if he said the ongoing show wasn't appealing. However it wasn't why he was here.

He could run much faster than sound but he couldn't knock the formula this club's owner had in his palms. If Stark's calculations were right, and they always were, the tube carried formula may be made of bulletproof material but it wasn't going to stand the speed Pietro would be pushing on it when he runs.

Foolish, he thought.

He scoffed as he swirled his whiskey in its glass. Where the hell was this man? He couldn't possibly take news of mission and fly out of his grip. But Pietro's careful eyes couldn't spot the motherfucker.

As music came to an end, the crowd let out exaggerated protesting noises. Mood rose back to its original rhythm when new dancers took their places on stage. Another song began to play, one he could evaluate with the term ‘lively’ rather than the previous erotic one.

He really wanted to be done and go back to the compound. Obnoxiously loud sound of Katy Perry was going to damage his eardrums if they kept blasting the goddamn speakers like this.

Song was slowly rising to its peak, men and women around the strippers were throwing money every direction in the company of obscene profanities. Their desperation made him nauseated. Damn, some people have zero dignity.

It wasn't like he was going to catch the owner anytime soon, so he made a decision. Why not enjoy the show while time passes?

He couldn't choose who to watch, they were all dancing excellently. No wonder it says ‘VIP’ on the front. But that wasn't his concern anymore because his eyes, in fact, caught a girl.

Dusty pink hair, a black leather set left too little to imagine, painful looking heels.

There was no fucking way that hair was her own hair, it had to be a wig to look this perfect.

His eyes locked to her figure, moving flawlessly. On her knees, her body rippled against the pole with the roll of a professional, long crimson nails slowly climbed their way to her neck from her crotch.

‘Cause I’m all that you want, boy,

All that you can have, boy.

She stood up languidly and wrapped a leg around the pole. Letting herself fall backwards, she arched back, pushing her breasts up. Arms extended forward like she wanted everyone to reach her, touch her. From the distance, he could barely read a line from her lips.

Bon appétit, baby.

He swallowed, shifting uncomfortably on his leather couch. The pants he wore began to tighten around his lower body, he could feel the sweat beads rolling from his neck all the way down to his abs. This wasn't good.

Nudging a palm over his obvious erection didn't relieve any tension his stressed body carried. He bit inside of his mouth, chewing on his cheek's tissue. His fingertips itched to touch, to feel.

After a swipe of his tongue over his lip, he raised his hand slightly, signaling a waiter to come closer. Waiter looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Anything sir?” He pointed at the dusty pink haired girl on the stage. “What's her name?” Waiter turned his head back to pinpoint the stripper in question. A knowing smile tugged at his lips. “Nice taste. Celestia.”

When Pietro narrowed his eyes with a confused who the fuck would name their child ‘Celestia’ stare, he couldn't contain his snicker. “It's her stage name. We’re not allowed to give out their real names unless they're willing.” Pietro wanted to laugh, atleast club gave their strippers some rights.

“Makes sense. I want a room for Celestia.” Waiter nodded as he noted down his name. “Enjoy your ride, buddy.” He smirked before refilling his whiskey glass. Pietro didn't say anything back to the man as he retreated to the suffocating crowd.

When show came to an end, one of the waiters headed in his direction and gave him a ticket-like paper. The red, glowing calligraphic sign was placed in the right direction of his seat.

After a moment of hesitation, he pulled his weight up to make his way. The hallway was long, housing many rooms, different light colors were leaking from under the doors of some of the rooms. Music sounds were almost deaf to ears, he guessed the rooms to be soundproof.

Attendant unlocked the door for him after checking his room's number. Before letting him in, he stopped Pietro. “As I can see, it's your first time here, mate. There are two rules. You have twenty minutes with stripper and it is absolutely forbidden to touch stripper.” After a nod of his head, he was allowed in.

The inside was as good as he expected. A pole, white leather couch and lights were placed in the room. Black walls surprisingly didn't feel claustrophobic. It didn't seem like any camera was placed around.

His palms were sweating, perhaps from excitement, perhaps from stress.

Couch was comfy, it felt like sinking into the clouds. His breath hitched when he sensed a click on the door handle. Adjusting his position, he gulped down the lump sitting on his throat. I shouldn't do this. I am here for a mission. This is so wrong. Wanda is going to kill me-

His flowing thoughts were cut with her entrance. He could see the sinister lust emitting from her eyes, doubting she looked at all of her clients with such intensity. “So, today's delight is you.” She mumbled as she came closer step by step, quicking his pulse unnecessarily.

She licked her lips while dropping her hands on his knees. Leaning forward, her red painted lips ghosted over his ear. “Interesting to see a thing like you here.” One of her hands fastened on header of the couch to help herself as she strangled his lap. She groaned in surprise when his hard-on pressed against her.

“Woah, you're a big boy, aren't you?” All he could do was to look up to her like a stupid puppy, waiting for her to do something since he couldn't touch her.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, rocking her hips back and forth against his clothed cock. He moaned through his clenched teeth. ‘Fighting his inner demons’ would be the name he would give to his urge of groping the tits in front of his eyes and mouth.

“You would’ve felt so good inside.” She pouted mockingly, her hand running on his hair. “But we ain't getting time for that.” A subtle chuckle left her lips. “Cat got your tongue, pretty boy?” His lips quivered before answering her question.

“No, it's just… you. You're so mesmerizing.” Well, it was too late to take his words back once they left his mouth.

I think my brain just short circuited.

“Aren't you a sweet talker?” She whispered as her manicured nails traveled down, trailing a line between his abs over his shirt. “Normally, I would've given you a nice lap dance and maybe some humping.” To press on her statement, she rocked her hips harder to his crotch.

“However, I decided to do you a favor.”

She got off of his lap. “What, no.” He reached out in a panicked state which was stupid due to no-touching policy. “Easy, I am here for the next sixteen minutes.” She smirked, standing over him with a hungry gaze. It's been so long since she had any actual intimacy with anyone and he looked like a delicious treat.

She got on her knees, her hands massaged his firm thighs. “God, men like you should be put in a museum.” She breathed as she ran her hand over his bulge. Her fingers didn't even fumble on his zipper, immediately pulling it all way down after she undid his jeans’ button. He lifted his hips to help her as she pulled his boxers and pants down to his ankles.

Her pupils dilated as she focused on his cock, it was resting on his stomach with a painfully red tip. Her thumb pressed on his tip, smearing bead of precum over his skin. He let out a pathetic whimper. “I-i.. is this o-okay?” He almost quacked during his sentence when she spat on his shaft and wrapped her hand around it.

“Probably not. But they will understand a girl in need.” She looked up to him.

Disheveled hair, hazy eyes, flushed cheeks. I want to swallow him.

He was getting impatient, but still didn't move. What was meaning of moving if he couldn't touch her?

It took just a lick from bottom to top for him to buck his hips. She held his hips firmly, settling him down. “No, no. Let me do my thing.” He bit his lips, maybe hard enough to withdraw blood. “Please, I've been waiting-” Her mouth suddenly enveloped his cock, taking it half way with her eyes observing his reaction.

He cried out due to shock, clawing at the fabric underneath his grip. His hand reached out to tangle his fingers to her hair, but before he could, she caught his hand. She pulled away from him. “No touching.”

Sizing up his strong figure, she made a shift on her plan. “Take off your shirt.” His trembling fingers peeled the tshirt of his body. She could feel her mouth going dry with the sight of his bare torso.

Before she could control herself, her fingers wandered on his firm chest and abs. His pale skin was stained with scars. Almost each of them looked like they were telling a different story.

She rose on her knees, running her tongue on his abs. Texture of the scars caught on her tongue, causing him to clutch onto one of the cushions and bite inside of his mouth.

She pressed her thumb on his nipple, feeling it harden under her touch. She circled her finger on his areola, wrapping her lips around the neglected one. A moan left his lips.

Satisfied and encouraging by the noises he let out, she draped her arms around his waist, pushing him against her mouth.

“W-wait-” She pulled away with a pop sound, leaving his chest aching. “What's wrong?” She asked as she pressed a kiss to one of his scars, then to another, then to another.

He looked down at her. “It's too-”

“Overstimulating? That's the purpose.” She smirked at his naiveness.

She sucked marks all over his chest, kissing each of the scars and soothing the ache she left with a run of her tongue. His labored breaths became unstable during her treatment. God, it fucking felt like being worshipped.

And finally she went back to her original plan. Hand wrapped around his shaft, she began to stroke him. “You're not some kind of loser who has no hole to fill, are you?” She planted a kiss over his tip. “You're different.”

She suckled on the tip, treating it like a tasty lollipop. “Well, can't say I care.” Without breaking eye contact she went down slowly, inch by inch. Even after all the times she gave a blow job, she couldn't deep throat him like she wanted to. His tip reached the back of her throat, hitting there repeatedly as she bobbed her head.

Tears filled her eyes, forcing her to let go of him. He didn't care about the shitty policy, running his thumb over her cheek and wiping her tears away. “You don't have to if it's hard for you.”

But she didn't let him rest, jerking him off when she didn't have him down to her throat. “But I want to.” Her free hand tangled her fingers to his, bringing it to her skin. “Touch me.” He raised an eyebrow.

“But I thought-”

“I am letting you.”

And that was enough for him. His both hands cupped her cheeks. He leaned down and smashed his lips against hers, tasting the smeared lip gloss and himself. Getting impatient, she pushed him back to the couch.

She put her hands on his thighs to balance her weight as he tugged at her strands pushing her all the way down even though she gagged around him. She hollowed her cheeks and pressed her tongue underside of him while he bucked his hips somewhat violently, fucking her throat on his pace.

She cupped his balls, massaging them to encourage his orgasm. She could sense his legs shivering under her palms. He was close. With thought of it may help, she moaned around him, and it worked.

He shot down rope after rope to her throat, not even allowing her to breath. Aftermath of the orgasm was violent on his body. His cock twitched as she pulled out and got up.

Strangling him again, it was her turn to kiss him. It was sloppy, teeth against teeth with a mix of lust and rush. He remembered the fact he was allowed to touch, so he did. His hand roamed on her skin, pressing her against his chest.

Red light illuminated the room. Time to part.

He wiped her lips with his shirt, fixing her hair as much as he could. “Will you be okay? What if your boss gets angry?” He questioned, hands softly placed on her waist.

She giggled. “He will understand. Women have urges too.”

He laughed. “You're a surprising woman.” He said as she got off his lap.

“Sure I am. And I would like to see you again.”

With one last peck over his bruised lips, she parted from the room. Leaving Pietro behind disheveled and exhausted.

Now, how was he supposed to explain the wasted time he spent in the club and the hickeys to the team?

©2024 earthpleasures do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[theconstantsidekick]

Avengers: Age Of Ultron ft. Static (2) | s.r

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: Fluff with hidden angst.

Summary: So apparently everyone and their mother knows that Steve doesn't want to move in with Y/n. She now very desperately needs him to tell her why?

(These scenes incorporate y/n, yet to be codenamed—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Drinking, lot of cursing, mentions of death of parents, past traumas, feelings.

a/n: am I back? maybe. who knows? don't look a gift horse in the mouth, okay? enjoy it while it lasts.

Avengers : Age of Ultron ft. Static (1) | Series Masterlist | The Avengers (ft. Static) | Captain America: The Winter Soldier (ft. Static) | Static Verse Masterlist

“Hey Y/n!” Bruce waves at her over the small scattered crowd. He seems so excited to see her as if they haven’t seen each other in ages. Like they didn’t just come back from a mission they worked on, together. As if they don’t meet every other Tuesday to drink overpriced whiskey and bitch about Tony. Like they don’t have each other on speed dial.

She smiles watching him make his way over to her through the crowd, “Hiya Bruce.”

“Ah shit,” he curses under his breath as his drink sloshes, dripping a little onto his fingers. God Banner, she thinks. Hope the green guy’s not this clumsy. Licking his fingers clean, he looks up at her with a kind smile. “How—how’s it going?”

She thinks for a second or so, “Going as well as things can go once you discover the organization you were working for was secretly infiltrated by Nazis,” she takes a sip of her drink.

“Messy?”

She smiles over the rim of her glass of whiskey before agreeing, “Messy.”

Bruce nods, shifting like he’s trying to settle something in his head. “Yeah, yeah. That makes sense.” He looks around, eyes darting—nervous. Why would he be nervous? “What about—how’s the weather been lately?”

Y/n squints. “In Manhattan? You mean two blocks from where you live?”

The look on the man’s face is proof enough that he realizes he’s been caught.

“I’ve seen you butt naked like 17 times now—”

"That’s on Tony!" Bruce defends immediately. "He kept pretending the stretchable shorts were taking too long!"

She waves him off. "My point is, the time for small talk is far behind us, I can’t even see it in the rear view mirror. Can you just spit it out?”

That seems to shut Bruce up. He clams up. Scratches the back of his head.

She waits.

Until she can’t anymore. “Spit it out, Banner. Ideally before you give yourself a hernia.”

Bruce hesitates for a second before taking a step closer. He looks around in short quick motions, before he leans in and speaks just above a whisper, “I—I heard about the Steve situation…” He shrugs, she stiffens. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

She knew it was coming.It’s been coming at her all fucking night. First Tony and Nat, then Rhodey, Hill and Sam, then Thor, of all people—and now Bruce too? She’s beyond pissed off. "What Steve situation?" she asks, voice deceptively light.

His brows knit together as he straightens, gathering courage “The one whe—where he doesn’t wanna move in with you.” The statement comes out more as a question than an answer.

And just like that, Y/n is going to kill someone. 

“Who the fuck told you that?” She damn near shouts.

Bruce instantly takes a step back. “No one.”

“Banner,” she takes a step forward. “Who the fuck told you that?”

Another step back. “No one.”

A step forward. “Banner.”

The way Bruce physically shrinks, you’d forget he moonlights as the big green raging beast.

“Will you kill the person who told me?” He asks. She knows him well enough by now to know that Bruce is weighing the danger to himself versus whoever the other person is. He’s trying to find the most peaceful way out of the situation.

“Depends on the person,” she answers diplomatically.

Bruce sighs, resigned. “Then you’ll definitely kill him.”

She takes another step forward. Her movements are too quick for Bruce to react to them, outside of his eyes widening at the realization that she’s grabbing the collar of his shirt.

“Spill it. Banner.”

Giving the answer is the only way out of this now. So it falls easily from his lips.

“Steve.”

Alright then. 

Y/n is going to kill Steve Rogers.

She drops Bruce’s collar, fixes his shirt in efficient motions—because she’s not a fucking heathen.

“Thanks, Bruce.” She pecks his cheek before marching straight for the damn Golden Boy.

Steve’s not hard to spot. Not really. Not ever.

Steve Rogers is always the easiest for her to find. While her brother is prone to be found in hidden, forbidden corners, her boyfriend is the exact opposite. Where Tony demands your attention, Steve somehow just attracts it. His presence is strong and constant, and you can feel it even when you don’t see it. Sometimes Y/n thinks she can feel it from across the room on her fingertips. It always feels tangible.

It must have something to do with being the most impressive person in most rooms, especially during the war, she presumes. Back then when super people were few and far between. There was just him. The only successful super soldier. He must have walked into rooms, and respect, attention and curiosity must have followed. She is aware of the fact that Steve, the real one, the one before Captain America, wasn’t used to all the attention. Wasn’t even used to people looking his way. He’d told her on one of their countless shared sleepless nights that he’d never gotten used to the feeling of people making the way for him. He’d never gotten used to leading the way for people either but that somewhat came easier to him than the understanding that his voice carried weight. His opinions held value. His words being heard was so new to the boy from Brooklyn, he’d told her he believed he was never going to get used to it. 

But Y/n didn’t believe him. Not that she thought he was lying. 

No, not lying. She thinks he just hasn’t taken account of how much he’s changed since then. 

Or maybe, she just views him differently because well… You know how things are when you’re in lov—attracted to someone. 

You scan the room for their face the moment you walk in. No matter who you’re talking to, your focus snaps back like a cosmic magnet. When you crack a joke, your first thought is—did they laugh? Because, fuck the rest of the universe, that’s all that matters. Even when they’re across the room, lost in their own chatter, your body just knows where they are, like an invisible tether. And when they’re not even glancing your way—damn, especially then—you’re watching. Because you’re hopelessly, ridiculously, utterly hooked.

Basically what she means is that, Y/n is always watching Steve. 

He seems like he’s gotten more than comfortable making his presence known.

She can see it now as she walks over to Steve as he’s talking to Hill and Rhodey. He’s smiling, the smile he smiles when he’s trying to charm the people around him. It’s different from the one she gets, that one’s shy and reserved. This one—it’s all bright and shiny, just like the Golden boy himself.

“Hey, handsome,” she calls out, sweeter than honey.

Steve’s smile switches instantly at the sound of her voice. He looks at her and she can see his eyes soften. “Hey there, doll.”

“Why the fuck are you going around telling people you don’t wanna fucking move in with me?” 

His smile drops instantly. 

Rhodey and Hill follow suit.

“Let’s move this somewhere private—It seems like my girl’s going to kill me,” Steve offers as an explanation before he gently grabs her hand and begins moving towards the balcony. She follows without any effort from his part. “I’d prefer it if it weren’t all that public. Wouldn’t want our lawyer going to jail,” He calls out over his shoulder as he holds the door open for her to step out.

She does.

Walking over to the railing, she exhales audibly trying to let go of the anger she’s built up over the course of the evening. 

“You alright there, doll?” He asks, his tone too damn sweet.

FUCK!

Focus, Y/n!

“No. No, Steve. Quite the fucking opposite. I’m dead set on the idea of murdering you, I’m sure I can lawyer my way out of jail.” She’s… exhausted.

He finally walks up to her then. Leaning on the rails, he looks at her. “What am I being charged with, Miss Stark?”

“Defamation.”

He smiles then. Fucking charmer. “And how did I defame my girl?”

“You’re going around telling people you don’t want to live with me—which is absolutely fine, by the way. I just want to know why you won’t tell me that to my face?” She’s so curious, some might deem it as desperation. 

His stance changes. He can clearly hear the vulnerability in her voice. “I didn’t say that to your face because it’s not true. I told you. I want to live in Brooklyn, and you want to live in New York. I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re at my place five nights a week, Steve. You think two more will be an imposition?”

He shakes his head, “Doll—”

She’s not in the mood for bullshit. “Steve, I will never ask you to do something that you don’t want to do. If you think moving in together would be a step we’re taking too soon, I understand that. To me life isn’t all that short as people make it out to be.” She can hear a laugh in some corner of her mind. It sounds suspiciously like Tony. “I would never mind taking things slow.”

“It’s not that, Y/n.” His head falls.

“What is it then?” 

“Doll…”

The thing about their relationship is that despite all the affections the two hold for each other, it’s clear—beyond clear that both of them hold secrets they aren’t willing to throw out in the open.

She shakes her head, “Look, Steve… I—I… I understand that this is new for you. I get that. It’s new for me too. I get that it must be scary, but you have to understand that it’s terrifying for me too.”

“Oh come on, Y/n! You flirt like it’s part of your job description and you do it well enough that you should be billing me for it. What do you have to be terrified of?” Steve throws back. He says it casually, or at least tries to. But the way his eyes skirt away from hers, she knows he’s trying to hide what he really feels. However, she doesn’t like the insinuation all the same. 

“What do I—Steve, do you even want this?” 

He straightens at the accusation, all tall, blond and buff. “What makes you think I don’t?”

She tilts her head, takes in the sight of him. The broad shoulders, the cocked brow, the challenge in his eyes, she relishes all of it. It’s hard not to—when it’s him. When it’s Steve. “The same thing that makes you scared,” she answers him with the same resolution. She watches his brow scrunch together slightly, either at being caught or in confusion, she’s not sure. “I know… I know that we don’t talk about it, that there’s this big fat elephant in every single room we share, and we never address it. We should—we really should talk about it, but we don’t…” She clenches her jaw, gathering courage, “I’ve got a bag full of secrets and you want a peak… I can’t particularly blame you for your curiosity, but I’d rather we could just—”

“Just?”

“I just wish we could move past it,” she admits softly.

Steve inhales audibly and slowly. “It’s not that simple, Y/n.”

“It’s not that complicated either, Steve,” she tells him. “I know you don’t trust me—”

“I trust you.”

The way he says it, it compels her to look at him. And when she does, she’s struck hard by the determination in them.

“I trust you,” he reiterates, “with my life.”

“Just not with your heart.” It’s a painful admission, and just as painful an accusation. She can see the hurt in her chest reflected back in his eyes.

“That’s not fair, Y/n,” he says, voice more broken than it has any reason to be. She’s the one who should be hurt, goddamn it.

“Maybe not,” she acquiesces, “but it is true… isn’t it?”

His head falls, he crumbles. He’s ashamed, because she isn’t wrong. She hit the nail on the head, and it seems the head might have been his. She might have been aware of that while striking the hammer, but guilt blooms inside her all the same.

“Look, Y/n—it’s—” His hands run through his hair in frustration, he turns away for a second before he turns back to her. He’s trying to buy time to come up with the right words.

“Not that simple?” She guesses, laughing a hollow laugh. “Then let me simplify this for you—you don’t see a future with me.”

His face morphs instantly to annoyance, “Who told you that? I know for a fact that I never said it, so who did? Huh? Who told you that I don’t?”

“I can see it in your eyes, Rogers,” she admits, words broken, eyes wet. 

“Then look again.” He’s a strong man, that Rogers. His words always carry weight, especially when he wants them too, sometimes even when he doesn’t.

“I’m looking, handsome, and all’s I see is doubt.”

His jaw clenches, his stance changes.

There’s a fight afoot.

Time for talking it out is behind them.

“Just say it, Steve.” She’s not going to like what comes next.

“I don’t know you.”

Yeah, she doesn’t just not like it, she fucking loathes this.

Steve continues, perhaps a little unaware of the damage his words must be inflicting. “I don’t know you. I—I try to look past it, I try to find some comfort in the fact that I know that you hate coffee and bubblegum, that you smoke when you’re worried, that you cry like a baby when watching movies, not because they are sad, but because they are grand. I know that you are sharing as much of yourself as you possibly can, but—” He meets her head on, like he’s going into battle. And who knows? Maybe he is.“But I also know that you wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, scared and terrified. And all I want is to pull into my arms and protect you from whatever you’re afraid of—except I have no fucking clue what that is.” He takes a step towards her, “I—I want to build a life with you, Y/n. I want a future with you.” Motherfucker. “But how the hell am I supposed to do that when I know nothing about your past.”

For anyone paying attention, her heart is breaking into a million pieces right about now.

“You don’t need to know everything about me to know me, Steve. My past—it’s fucking irrelevant.” It’s not the answer he wants, but it’s the only one she has to offer.

“I’m not asking you to tell me every sordid detail about your entire life—I’m just asking for something, anything… Throw me a fucking line, doll. I’m drowning here,” Steve pleads. He actually, well and truly pleads. He’s bordering on begging at this point. “I want this to be more—so much more, but it feels like maybe you don’t. From where I’m standing, it looks a whole lot more like you’re the one who doesn’t want this, instead of the other way round.”

Fucking hell.

Motherfucking, cocksucking hell.

Goddamnit.

She throws him the line.

“I was born in Madripoor.”

“What?” Steve asks, looking absolutely lost.

She gulps down her heart that’s beating at the speed of light and repeats herself, though this time, her voice wavers ever so slightly. “I was born in Madripoor. That’s where I’m from… or was from, before Howard Stark took me in.”

And he takes it in. He takes in this little tiny piece of information like he’s been handed the Holy Chalice. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling too exposed.

“Why do you call him Howard and not—you know—Dad?”

Her arms cross over her chest before she even realizes she’s doing it, as if her body is trying to hold itself together. She shrugs, trying for nonchalance, but it’s a little too rehearsed. “‘Cause I had a dad. And he was nothing like Howard. He was soft spoken and generous when he shouldn’t have been. He had kind eyes, calluses on his palms and he always smelled like tar.” She can’t meet his eyes when she speaks. “I’m not saying he was the exact opposite of Howard… But yeah, I guess that is what I’m saying.” She looks out over the balcony, at the seemingly endless New York skyline. She exhales sharply, her breath shaky, and grips the balcony railing. The cool metal helps ground her. “My dad was my dad. And Howie was Howie. I don’t know if that makes sense to you, and I don’t think I could explain it even if I tried to… Howard was the man who saved me, but that doesn’t mean he gets to replace my dad.”

“What…” 

She can tell what he wants to ask, and she can tell he’s scared to—because he doesn’t want to push. He’s gotten a sliver and he’s afraid he’ll lose it if he asks for more.

She’s already thrown him the rope, why not give it some slack, huh? 

“What happened to him?” She finishes for him, her voice sharper than before. Her eyes are avoiding looking at him like the plague, and yet, she catches him nodding in her peripheral vision.

Y/n’s grip tightens around the railing. Her shoulders lock up, and for a second, she considers not answering.

But it’s Steve—her Steve, so the words tumble out anyway. “He died—or I think he did… Madripoor is a violent place, a pirate island for all the bad guys from your rogues gallery to go and hide out in… A fight broke out between two rival factions and we got caught in the middle of it. He got me to safety, but then went back to see if he could help any other stragglers… I never saw him again.” Her throat feels tight, but she keeps her voice even. Controlled. “I was six years old.”

“And your mom?” His voice is quiet when he speaks again.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Dad used to talk about her like she was an angel. He told me I was two when we lost her,” she answers just as quietly.

“Does that mean…?”

“I don’t know what it means, Steve.” She kicks the ground a little frustrated, at him, but mostly at herself for being able to give out only broken bits of herself to the man she…  “Maybe she died, maybe she was taken… Or maybe it means that she left us, and he just didn't know how to tell that to a little kid asking about her mom.” Her voice is sharper now, meaner, because if she doesn’t lash out, she might actually have to sit with this awful, disgusting feeling crawling under her skin. Her body feels too tight, like she’s trapped in a room with no exits. “It could mean anything.”

“Did you ever look for them?” He asks, taking a step closer to her.

Her grip on the railing tightens. “Have you ever been to Madripoor?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“But you have heard of it?”

“Yes.”

“Anything good?”

“Not really, no,” he answers, a little defeated.

She snorts. “On average, 23 people go missing from Lowertown alone…” She waits for the fact to register with him. And then she finally turns to him and adds, “Every week.” Steve’s brows fly up in shock. Then she can’t stop herself from smirking at his surprise. “Looking for them—” she shakes her head with a broken smile. “It would be easier to find a singular bullet in a warzone.”

Something shifts between them. Something shifts in him.

“You’re gonna punch me in the face if I ask you anything else, aren’t you?” He asks, but it’s not a question, it’s a statement. She can hear his smile in his words.

Her jaw clenches, and she decides to reply anyway. “There is a distinct possibility of that happening, yes.”

She hears him chuckle softly to her right. “This is really hard for you.”

“It would be easier if I were a little less sober, but… yes. It is.” Finally, letting go of the railing, she pockets her hands. She stands taller. “However, losing you over this—losing you cause I couldn’t do one hard thing, that would be… harder.” She turns to him then, ready and strong. “I don’t think I’d survive it.”

For a second Steve doesn’t move. He doesn’t let the moment dissolve, either. “You’re not losing me, doll. You can’t.” Then, before she can react—before she can think too hard about it—he just hugs her.

She freezes. Body going stiff like she’s just been handed a live grenade.

Part of her is scared of it, part of her hasn’t readjusted to the change in the tone of the conversation. Part of her is screaming at her to put some distance between herself and the man who holds her whole heart in the palm of his hand. Because what if he decides this isn’t enough? She’s… she’s scared. So, she should pull away.

Instead, her hands fist into the back of his shirt and she holds on.

Steve Rogers is built like a damn fortress, all solid muscle and unwavering steadiness. He’s warm, too warm, like he’s been storing up all this body heat just to throw her off. 

Unfair.

They stay like that, longer than she should probably allow.

Then, she hears him exhale against her hair. 

“When I came out of the ocean, I didn’t think this world had anything for me.” His voice is low, warm—dangerous, in the way it makes her chest feel like it’s coming apart at the seams. “I felt out of place, out of time,” he continues, like this is just casual conversation and not the kind of thing that makes her heart kick wildly against her ribs. “I didn’t feel like I belonged here—or anywhere.” She should say something. Deflect, make a joke, give him an easy out. But all she does is breathe. “But you changed that.”

Her throat closes up.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away—if anything, his arms tighten around her. “Doll, you keep me grounded.” His breath is warm against her temple, too close, too much, just enough. “You make me feel like I belong here.”

She hates this. She hates how much she doesn’t hate this.

Steve doesn’t let her slip away into her own head. Instead, he pulls back just enough to look at her—just enough to make sure she’s listening. “You think it’s a coincidence that you’re always in my line of sight in every room I walk into?” he murmurs, like he’s letting her in on a secret he’s been keeping forever.

She blinks up at him, half-annoyed, half-trapped in his gravity. “I mean, yeah? Maybe?”

He just laughs, low and disbelieving, shaking his head. “Doll, you seriously think I just happen to catch your eye from across the bar?” His fingers are still cupping her face, thumbs skimming over her cheek like she’s something fragile. Her pulse trips over itself. “You think I don’t engineer every situation to always be within your earshot?” he goes on, the absolute menace. “To listen to you laugh? To listen to you cuss with that sailor’s mouth?”

Narrowing her eyes at him, “So you’re saying you stalk me?”

Steve grins. “I prefer ‘strategically position myself in your general vicinity.’” Smooth talker. Then, softly—almost reverently—he leans in. “You’re like a hurricane, doll,” he murmurs, voice barely a whisper. “You’re the eye of the storm. I’m caught in your field, and I have no clue how to get out.”

Her fingers tighten around his forearm, her whole body thrumming with the tension between them. “Do you want to?” she asks, her voice quieter now, just for him. “Get out?”

“No, doll. No.” His nose ghosts over hers, his lips just barely grazing hers as he whispers, “I think I’d suffocate if I tried.”

She barely has time to take a breath before his lips finally, finally press against hers. And—god help her—he kisses like he means it. Like he’s been holding back for longer than he can stand. Like she’s the first breath of air after being underwater too long.

She sucks in a sharp breath, gripping the front of his shirt to keep herself grounded. But it’s useless—because everything, everything, is spinning. Or maybe she is. Maybe it’s him. Because Steve Rogers kisses like devotion—like he’s trying to tell her something with every tilt of his mouth, every slow, intentional slide of his lips against hers.

And she gets it.

She gets it in the way his hands cradle her like she’s something precious, something unshakable and breakable all at once. She gets it in the way he sighs into her, relieved, like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole damn life. Her fingers tangle into his hair, yanking him closer, and—god help him—he groans.

That sound. 

That fucking sound.

It’s low and rough and wrecked, like he’s just barely keeping it together. And that? That’s her favorite thing now. So she does it again—tugs a little harder, just to hear it.

Steve grins against her mouth. “You’re a menace,” he mutters, voice warm and wrecked, kissing her deeper like it’s a challenge.

“And you’re—” she inhales sharply as his fingers slip beneath the hem of her backless dress, dragging slow and teasing along her waist.

“What was that, doll?” he asks, his lips brushing hers as he speaks. Smug bastard.

She glares at him, though it loses some weight considering she’s half-dizzy from the way he’s touching her. “I was gonna say, you’re making it real hard to think right now.”

Steve hums, lazy and pleased, his hands still mapping out every inch of skin they can reach. 

She is so incredibly screwed.

“You wanna stop?” he murmurs, lips skimming down her jaw, pressing the softest kiss right below her ear.

And—oh, she fucking hates him.

Because he knows what he’s doing. Knows exactly how her breath stutters, how she grips his shirt tighter, how she’s not pushing him away. Y/n exhales shakily, tilting her head just a little to the side, just enough to let him keep going. “Did I say that?” she breathes.

His answering chuckle is low and rough, and it vibrates against her skin like a goddamn earthquake. “No, doll,” he murmurs, lips brushing right over her pulse. “No, you didn’t.”

Her fingers curl into his hair, holding him there, keeping him close.

This is dangerous.

This is everything.

And fuck if that matters.

She just wants him.

So she tugs him back up to her, kisses him hard, kisses him until he stops teasing, until he stops holding back and just— 

Lets go.

And when he does?

It wrecks her.

Because Steve isn’t careful now. He isn’t measured or hesitant—he’s all in. He kisses her like he’s making up for lost time, like he’s been waiting for this since the moment he met her, and maybe he has.

“God, handsome—” she breathes against his lips, knowing full well what that nickname does to him.

It absolutely undoes him.

Steve groans again, deeper this time, and then—suddenly—her back is against the railing.

She huffs a laugh, breathless, wrecked, fingers dragging down his chest. “Oh, so now you’re impatient?”

Steve just grins, pressing another kiss to her smirking mouth. “Doll, I’m always impatient when it comes to you.”

God bless her, she is half a second away from yanking Steve right back down to her when—

A slow, sarcastic clap rings out behind them.

“Wow,” a familiar voice drawls. “This is adorable. Really. Hallmark should be taking notes. You two got the tension, the longing gazes, the obvious ‘we were just about to make questionable decisions’ body language…” He sighs dramatically. “Chef’s kiss.” He does the fucking action too, the freak.

She doesn’t even jerk away.

No, she closes her eyes. Exhales through her nose. Prays for strength. Then, slowly, very slowly, she pulls back and turns toward the absolute menace standing in the doorway.

And there he is.

Tony Stark. Billionaire. Genius. Her own personal tormentor.

He’s leaning against the doorway, drink in hand, smirking like he just walked in on the biggest scandal of the century.

“Tony.” Her voice is sweet, lethal. “We practically raised each other which means this can’t be a fault in your nurturing, so it has to be a personal failing.”

Tony places a dramatic hand over his heart. “Wow. What a way to greet your only living relative.”

Y/n tilts her head. “Oh, I’m sorry. You want a warm welcome? Here you go.” She flips him off.

Steve makes a choking sound next to her, trying—failing—not to laugh.

“Wow. Harsh.” Tony scrunches his nose in mild disappointment. “Here I am, simply looking for my beloved sister, only to find her engaging in a very public display of affection with none other than Captain America himself.” His head tilts, eyebrows waggling. “Safe to guess, you two kissed and made up?”

Y/n doesn’t miss a beat. “If I were you I’d be a lot less concerned about our relationship and a lot more worried about that balding situation you got going on.”

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, sorry, I mean the graying situation. My bad.”

Steve clears his throat, valiantly trying to fight back a grin.

Tony scoffs. “Okay, first of all, my hair is immaculate. Secondly, that was a cheap shot.”

Y/n shrugs, all innocence. “You were asking for it.”

“Asking for it—?” Tony gestures wildly. “I came out here to bring you two back into the fold, and instead, I’m being attacked.” He turns to Steve, pointing at him accusingly. “You see this? She didn’t give me nearly this much lip before you two became a thing.”

Steve, to his credit, stays neutral. “You did interrupt us, Tony.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Tony puts a hand to his ear. “Did you just say I interrupted something important? Well, that’s just tragic.”

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Did you need something, or did you just come out here to be an Olympic-level pain in my ass?”

Tony gasps. “Language.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

Tony points at him. “You don’t get to say anything, Mr. ‘Don’t-Cuss-in-Front-of-Me.’”

She tilts her head to hide her smile. “Seriously, what do you want?”

Tony takes a casual sip of his drink. “Oh, just thought I’d check in. Seeing as, you know, you made a very public proclamation of murdering the Golden Boy here,” he points to Steve with glass in hand. “People inside are wondering if our fearless leader bit the bullet at the hands of our lawyer.” He pauses there and smiles at her. “But I see you lacked the follow through.”

Y/n snorts. “Maybe I changed my mind.”

Tony clicks his tongue, provoking, “You are getting soft.”

She accepts the challenge happily. “Or maybe I’m saving my bloodthirst for the dickhead who’s cockblocking me right now?”

Tony squints. “See, that I believe.”

Steve, ever the mediator, clears his throat. “You said people were wondering where we were?”

“Oh, right.” Tony waves a vague hand. “The party’s still going, people are still drinking, and Clint is still coping with the emotional fallout of being the only guy who didn’t know about the two of you being a thing—blind idiot.” Tony rolls his eyes. “But more importantly—” He straightens, flashing his most obnoxiously confident smirk yet. “I came out here because there is, at this very moment, an ongoing bet about a very important question—” he pauses for dramatic effect, “—who is Y/n Stark’s favorite Avenger?”

Y/n blinks. “You people need day jobs.”

Tony ignores her. “Now, obviously, the answer is me.” He takes a sip of his drink, completely self-assured. “But, for some reason, some people think that might not be the case.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “People bet on that?”

“Oh, yes.” Tony nods. “The stakes are high, Cap. Sam, Hill, Batron, Banner and Thor put down fifty on me, because, obviously, I’m the correct answer. Apart from Rhodey, the rest of them think it’s Capsicle. Which—” He throws a hand in the air, visibly disgusted. “Come on! That’s fucking delusional.”

Steve smirks. “Wow, Tony. That almost hurt.”

Tony waves him off. “Oh, don’t get sensitive on me, Spangles. You’re in second place at best. I mean, let’s be real—she’s not picking you over me.”

Humming, thinking for a long, deliberate second, she responds with, “Huh.”

Tony’s smirk widens. “Huh? Huh? That sounds like an agreement.”

She shrugs at that, noncommittal. “Sounds like a word, Tony.”

Tony narrows his eyes. “No, no, no. I don’t like that answer. I need definitive confirmation that I’m number one.”

Y/n tilts her head, smiling just enough to be dangerous. “Hate to break it to you, Stark, but if you needed confirmation… doesn’t that mean you’re not sure?”

Tony stares at her. Then blinks. Then—

“Oh, that’s dirty.”

It makes her grin, wide and proud.

Steve, who has been watching this like it’s the best show of his life, finally steps in, looking at her with a smug little smile. “You could just tell him, you know.”

She turns to him, giving him an exaggerated look. “And stroke his already overinflated ego? No chance.”

Steve chuckles, shaking his head. “You love messing with him.”

She smirks. “He makes it so easy.”

Tony throws up his hands. “Oh fuck off! It’s bullying like this that made Dad like you more.”

She makes a face. “Howard liked me more only ‘cause I was committing tax fraud for him.”

Steve chokes. “I’m sorry—what?”

Y/n waves a hand. “It’s fine. I fixed it… Mostly.” She shakes her head, “That’s not the point. Point is, don’t use your Dad as a way to get back at me. You know I hate that.”

“Only if you come back in and state for once and for all that I am indeed and in fact your favorite Avenger,” Tony throws back.

She’s caught absolutely fucking off-gard when Steve’s lips brush against her here, voice velvet smooth and painfully sensual, “No chance of it being me, doll?”

Y/n shivers before she can stop herself. Her fingers tighten in his shirt, eyes flicking up to meet his, and—damn him—he looks so unbelievably smug right now. “Wow,” she mutters, half breathless, half impressed. “Using your raw sex appeal to win a bet? That’s shameless, Rogers.”

Steve grins. “Nobody could tell it from all the bickering, but you two are inseparable—I needed an edge.” He places a soft kiss on her temple.

Tony gags loudly. “Oh my god, save it for literally anywhere else. The tension in here is gonna set off the sprinklers and ruin this killer outfit,” he says motioning to his magnificent three piece wine red suit—which she picked, B T dubs.

Fucking narsissit, she thinks to herself. “You love making everything about you.”

Tony smirks. “Well, yeah. I am your favorite.”

Y/n tilts her head. “You think you are.”

Tony narrows his eyes again. “I hate this game.”

“Yet, here you are,” she grins.

Tony exhales dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “Fine. Fine! You win, okay?” He sighs, rubbing his temple like this is physically painful. “I love you, to the moon and back, obviously.”

She smiles.

He groans at her expression, pointing at her. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Laughing she throws back, “Like what?”

“Like I just handed you the emotional equivalent of my bank account.” He shakes his head, muttering, “Unbelievable.” 

She is still smiling when Tony rolls his shoulders, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His voice softens just a fraction. “Now can you please come back inside and grab a drink with me?” He clears his throat, glancing away like this isn’t a big deal. “I have barely seen you outside of missions, and—maybe I miss you, alright?”

And with that, he turns and walks back inside.

Steve watches him go, then sighs. “We should probably head back. I feel like a jerk stealing you away from him.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Steve, we got drunk and worked on his suit two nights ago. He just likes being dramatic.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. 

“What?” She asks, confused.

“Is there anything you can’t do?”

She smiles at him, considering. “As much as I’d like to answer that question with the dirtiest, cheesiest one liners I can think of, we really should go inside—He doesn’t actually say he misses me all that often,” she reasons with him. But before she follows Tony in, she leans in close to Steve, voice soft but teasing. “This isn’t over.”

Steve grins, brushing his knuckles against hers. “Not even close.”

She smiles against his shoulder for half a second, then pulls him toward the party.

Find other static verse works here.  Read The Avengers (ft. Static) here.

i'll tag people later. i'm real tired, it's been a long day. i just wanna get this out and be showered in comments and reblog.

i'm looking at you. yeah you! reblog this with funny tags. do it!

[bheysitos]

₊˚.༄ My Little Droplet ₊˚.༄

Pietro Maximoff x Reader (GN) | SFW

Chapter 1

Summary: You woke from your two-week coma after fighting Ultron and his robots. Because you sacrificed yourself for three people, one of them being Pietro, you’re met with the twins as they keep you company in the compound’s medical area. Faced with their care for you, their bickering, and Pietro’s flirting, you watch in amusement while you recover.

Warnings: Mentions of possible death, violence (AOU type of violence)

Word Count: 1,571

Czech Translations:

Miláček - Sweetheart/darling

Kapička- Droplet

Extra: This is meant to be a series, so not much happens currently cause the twins and reader are practically strangers + you’re still drowsy-ish :P BUT, there is flirting from Pietro’s behalf 😝If I’m patient enough, hopefully this goes as strangers -> best friends -> lovers. Also, listen to Fiona Apple’s cover of Across the Universe with this if you’d like

₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊

Your eyes adjusted as your lashes fluttered. Being that you were disoriented, it took you a couple of blinks to realize it was night. The only light source in the room came from a screen monitor on your right that read your heart rate. You rubbed your eyes to clear your vision a bit better before hearing two voices on your left. “You’re awake.” the Sokovian twins said in slight surprise and amusement. Funny enough, they didn’t just say it in unison, but they both leaned forward in your direction to get a clearer view of you, even though Wanda was sitting on a chair near your bedside, and Pietro stood next to her. You weren’t sure whether to be a bit creeped out or to chuckle at the twin’s timing.  

Still gathering your belongings, you simply nodded and were about to sit up, until you felt a pair of hands on your shoulder, gingerly, but firmly keeping you laid down. “Already trying to fracture your bones again?” Pietro lightly joked as he took a step back. You furrowed your brows together and vaguely tilted your head to the side. Just how terrible are my injuries? I’m in the compound’s med wing that’s for sure, but why? Wasn’t I just in- 

And that’s when your memories start to resurface. The twins, fighting in Sokovia, Clint holding a boy in his arms while Pietro runs over to save them from Ultron’s robots. A scream from across the battlefield is soon heard. Wanda’s scream. And he froze. Caught between saving Clint and an innocent boy or his sister. The only person left close to him. Everyone knew what the answer was, but in his millisecond of deciding and fear of his last of kin dying, bullets began to launch towards him. He didn’t even notice you heading towards him. You immediately teleported to him, catching the first few bullets with your body as you conjured up a water barrier to stop, or at least to slow the rest of the bullets. Yet, you underestimated just how many would be sent before you could put up a shield. You held up the barrier nonetheless, using the last of your energy until the bullets stopped before collapsing onto the floor. 

You blinked once more, somewhat wide eyed after remembering it all before returning your head to it’s upright position. “Is everyone safe?” your hoarse voice laced with concern. You tried to clear your throat, realizing just how dry it was. How long have I even been out for? 

Wanda handed you a cup of water with a straw and you murmured a quiet thank you. It was all you could muster up before trying to sit up, completely forgetting, and not knowing the full extent of your injuries. Pietro luckily was swift to keep you in place once more. “Miláček, you really need to be careful.” he said in a cautious tone; although, a light smirk still graced his lips. “Here.” he muttered. He grabbed the cup from your grasp and delicately held your chin up with three of his fingers as he tilted your head up enough to sip from the straw. You felt your face get a bit warm at the feeling of being coddled like this. It certainly wasn’t your first time, given that you’ve been in predicaments like this where you’d come back from a mission and end up injured to the point of needing one of your teammates to assist you. Still, it was rare. Which is partially what made you embarrassed by this gesture. But you also had eyes and could see that the guy was conventionally attractive with an accent that made most swoon. Add all that to this, and you would’ve felt your knees give in, if it weren’t for the cot that you were laying on. You got snapped out of your thoughts though when he spoke again.  

“Hm, better? And yes, everyone is safe for the most part. Well, some people were injured but not to this extent.” He gestured with his head towards you and your condition.  

You nodded as you took that answer in, relieved that the rest were doing better. “And Ultron?” you asked quietly as your voice was still recovering.  

“Defeated. And he took Sokovia with him” Wanda chimed in with a solemn look that plagued both their faces. She shifted her gaze to her lap as she fiddled with her hands. A flash of blue and silver appeared once more as Pietro stood by her side again and squeezed her shoulder. He would’ve hugged her, but he knew she was trying to refrain from crying. And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t either. A hug guaranteed the floodgates would open, so a hand on the shoulder would have to do for now. 

“Yes, but at least everyone made it out alive.” he sighed quietly, his stare mimicking Wanda’s as it moved on from Wanda to the floor. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to lighten the mood for his sister or perhaps, for himself. Regardless, he briskly changed the conversation before you could give it more thought and before he could dwell on the loss of his homeland any further.  

“How are you feeling? Y’know they gave you a bunch of painkillers. Enough to sedate a horse.” He huffed in amusement through his nose as a small smile made its way onto his lips. “But I imagine the pain lingers?” he asked with a subtle tilt of his head.  

“I haven’t really focused on it, but I guess I’m alright. I mean I haven’t moved much. I do feel pain if I stretch. Mainly in my back, ribs, and waist.” you noted with a rasp to your voice. You began to gently rub your throat. “Actually, can I get more water please? Sorry I just didn’t realize how thirsty I was.” You smiled apologetically at them before getting help from Pietro again. “Are you or did you just want me close to you again?” he teased in a low voice, quirking a brow with a sly smile gracing his lips. Though it quickly fell as Wanda smacked his arm that wasn’t occupied, while you somewhat choked on the water due to his response. He sucked air through his teeth as his brows furrowed while feigning a glare. “Idiot! They’re here injured after sacrificing themselves and you still find time to flirt!” That is all you heard from her until she began to speak in Sokovian; grabbing the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes and shook her head. You raised your brows while watching the two argue in their native tongue. With the bickering continuing, you realized this may take a minute and tried to lean your head forward to get a sip of the water, being that Pietro was sorta facing away with the cup farther away from you. Your neck was fully stretched forward at this point before the door opened and the twins stopped bickering as you all looked to see who entered.  

Clint walked in with his brows furrowed upward in a confused manner, peering at the scene in front of him. He could’ve sworn he heard arguing that was most definitely from the twins.

He quickly digested what was happening. Trying to fight off a snort with humor in his eyes, he gently said, “You’re up,” and made his way to you with relief washing his features. Stopping beside Pietro, he typed on his phone rapidly and stored it in his pocket.

“Ever so smart eh.” Pietro joked while looking towards Clint’s direction.

“As if you didn’t say the same thing.” The words slipped from your mouth faster than you could stop yourself, and faster than Wanda could say it.  

He looked back at you in amusement, not expecting a quip. Playfully pouting, he responded with, “Aw, kapička, I thought you were on my side.”  

“Taking multiple bullets wasn’t enough?” you jested. 

“I’ll find a way to make it up to you-” he murmured smoothly with a toothy grin to accompany it. Planting his hand on your cot and resting his weight on that one arm as he leaned to the side slightly, hand on his hip, until Clint cut in. 

“Jesus get a room.” Clint feigned a face of disgust with his nose scrunching up.

“Is this not their room?” Pietro retorted. 

“Temporary.” you added.  

“And with guests.” Wanda joined in while raising a brow and folding her arms in judgement of her brother.

“Or you and Clint could always leave.” Pietro said in a light-hearted manner and shrugged.

“Yeah, about that-” Clint was cut off before he could finish, as the rest of your teammates, both avengers and agents, filed in with stuffed animals, cards, and balloons, trying to keep a hushed voice despite being glad you were conscious.  

“Oh wow” you muttered with wide eyes, seeing them crammed in like a pack of sardines.  

They all practically touched shoulders and you could tell Pietro and Wanda were getting uncomfortable with the stuffiness of the room. Pietro tensed and Wanda glanced at him then returned her gaze back to you. 

“We should go, but we’ll see you later. Rest easy please.” she said gently before her brother nodded. “And don’t try to break anymore ribs” he murmured with a small smirk before a blur of blue and white filled the area they used to stand in.

Although, you didn’t miss the blue envelope that lightly plopped onto your bedside table at the same time that everyone was bombarding you with questions.

————————————

Following Chapters:

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

A/N: any suggestions, critiques, or thoughts would be much appreciated, thank you for reading! 🫶

[pretty-little-mind33]

NSFW ALPHABET

Pietro Maximoff x fem!reader

ask: hiii may i ask for a nsfw alphabet with pietro maximoff if you havent done that one yet? i really loved your fics with him hagwhahw i’ve been searching like crazy for pietro maximoff fanfics and there are only a few.. but anyways, have a nice day also hehe

~ we need more pietro content fr! i gotchu babes 🩵 ~

mature content warning

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

He is such a sweetheart when it comes to aftercare! He wants to make sure he's taking care of his girl! Making sure you're cared for and feeling safe with him, which means running a bath, peppering kisses all over your sore skin, braiding/combing your hair, cleaning you up and cuddling with you until you're asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Pietro loves his legs. This isn't necessarily sexual but more because he runs with his legs and he likes his super speed. He also likes his hands because of what he can do with them 😄 For you? He loves every inch of you but he does have a soft spot for your thighs. God, he loves feeling your thighs under his hands, or having them wrapped around his waist/head/wherever he can have them!

(on another note in my mind he's a boob guy 😏 loves boobs. Any boobs, no matter the size and shape he's all over them)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Pietro likes when he can come inside you because it makes him feel like he owns you—he has a possessive streak. He also loves fingering you because that means he can lick your come from his fingers and taste you on his tongue. He's feral for the way you taste.

D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

He often masturbate to selfies/pictures you send of yourself—dirty ones or normal ones it doesn't matter—he needs you and he'll masturbate to your picture alone. Yes, he'll feel a little ashamed but he'll do it anyways because he's extra horny.

E = Experience (how experienced are they?)

Super experienced. Man whore. Had fun when he was single, who can blame him? He's sexy af 😩He's done almost everything under the sun and if he hasn't? He's willing to try. (Obviously he's a loyal guy now that he's with you, but as I said…man whore).

F = Favorite position (👀)

Lives for a riding but doesn't like reverse cowgirl because he loves to see you and see your tits bounce as you do. Makes his feral! His second favorite would be good old missionary because you can't go wrong with a good classic!

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Pietro likes jokes, he likes having fun. He's goofy so he'll joke around during sex but if you like it serious, he'll only be serious. If you like the laughs and giggles, he'll indulge you without question. He just wants you to be happy!

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I feel like he's all natural lol…he's is good with hygiene though! No worries there! And I mean I think his silver hair is dyed so it's assuming his pubic hair isn't silver lmao! I feel like he'd somehow dye it for fun (idk how good that is for the goods though or if that burns)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He can be very romantic but he prefers being a little more rough with you during sex. He isn't like bdsm rough but he likes letting go and using you. However, as said, his aftercare is absolutely banger and he's usually romantic then.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As mentioned he masturbates to pictures of you and overall he's just super horny. Constantly horny. He has a high sex drive so he masturbates a lot. He likes masturbating with you (so mutual masturbation or you giving him a handjob). He likes masturbating in the evening, it helps him fall asleep.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Pietro has a breeding kink 100%! Like okay, he also has an edging kink (if that's even a thing). He'll go slow with the thrusts. Slow and deep, making you feel it all, but not get quite enough to achieve anything more than becoming cock dumb.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He likes using the couch—any position on the couch lmao. Or he likes a bed, he's a classic at heart. He doesn't like car sex because he doesn't have any space, he gets antsy and he feels trapped.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything you do. Especially if it's with your mouth. If you lick your lips or bite your lips. Even simply show off some skin turns him on. Any touch when he's horny sets him on fire. He's surprisingly easy to rile up.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

He wouldn't be into sharing. Like if you wanted a threesome it would take MONTHS and MONTHS of convincing him to let another man or woman be around you like that. He's a possessive guy and he loves you, he wants you all to himself! Plus, being a twin I bet he's kinda sick of sharing lol

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Obviously he likes when you give him head, I mean what man doesn't? But he likes eating you out more. He likes when you tremble and the sounds you make. And oh he's soo good at it. Sometimes when you guys have "sex", it's only foreplay because he exhausts you just from his mouth alone.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Pietro is fast, duh. He's fast but he's also controlled and he can go slow when he wants. He doesn't use his super speed obviously because that would break you and hurt you, but I like to think he can vibrate his cock like a vibrator lmaoooo (😩).

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are fun for him. He likes to have them when you're both busy. His favorite place for a quickie is a bathroom (a clean one lol, only the best for his girl).

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He def experiments and if you want to experiment, he definitely agrees and hears you out! While he doesn't like sharing, he likes the risk of having sex somewhere semi-public! He lives for the thrill and he doesn't mind if someone sees because he knows he can keep you safe so really, let the other assholes watch 😌

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He has good stamina because of his powers! He can go for hours and hours but once he comes, he's done. Now, his stamina for foreplay is unmatched. He will never get tired of making his girl feel good!

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Pietro owns no toys for himself, but he uses your vibrator on you when you ask him. He doesn't feel emasculated, he knows it only enhances the pleasure he gives you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

HUGE TEASE! Like he's constantly teasing you and making dirty jokes to turn you on! He likes edging you and especially overstimulating you because he can usually last longer than you. Whispers dirty things in your ear all the time and then teases you under the table at dinner (if yk yk)

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Usually, he's quieter than most. He controls his breathing for running so he can do it very well during sex. However, you like the noises he makes so he is conscious of them and he has this whimper you LOVE. It's soft and yet throaty, basically it's perfect like he is. Sometimes, when he's going particularly hard, he'll grunt in your ear but that's mostly for show, not that you mind.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

Pietro calls you pet names in Sokovian when he's having sex. Hell, he'll use more Sokovian than usual (he usually uses English pet names like dove, sweet girl, my heart), but because his mind is so fuzzy and lust filled he just automatically transfers to his native language. It's hot.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's not small, but I don't think he's super big either. Like it never hurts! I'd give him a solid 7 and he's def a shower.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

As high as possible. Constantly horny.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As soon as aftercare is performed and you're all good, he's gone and sleeping like a baby. He spoons you (or you spoon him) and he sleeps all night, occasionally kissing your neck in his sleep.

[swan-of-sunrise]

A Night on the Town

Summary: Steve and (Y/N)’s first date, as told through the eyes of an extremely nervous ninety-seven year old super-soldier and a lovestruck historical-fiction novelist.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! Today, we'll be getting a little look at Steve and Booksmart's first date after the Battle of Sokovia but before the last chapter of Age of Ultron, and I'll warn you now that there's so much freaking fluff in this one-shot! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

A Night on the Town May 2015 The Home of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Sam Wilson, Washington D.C. (Superhero Snapshots Masterlist)

Ever since taking the super-soldier serum in 1943, Steve Rogers had grown accustom to dangerous battles filled with death-defying stunts and adrenaline-inducing action. He almost never experienced pre-battle jitters and now that he was cementing himself in the twenty-first century alongside a team of other similarly super-powered people, he knew that there was no need to be nervous with his fellow Avengers fighting at his side, no matter if they were battling aliens from the opposite end of space or murderous androids controlled by artificial-intelligence. But as he parked his motorcycle on the street in front of (Y/N) and Sam’s house, Steve’s heart pounded in his chest and after switching off the engine, he was forced to wipe his clammy hands off on his dark jeans.

“It’s just a date, Rogers…” He reassured himself, getting off the motorcycle and reaching into the back compartment to retrieve the bouquet of pink roses he’d carefully picked out for (Y/N). “A date with a woman who’s completely and utterly out of your league.” When his cell phone vibrated in his pocket, he nudged the compartment closed and withdrew the device to see who was texting him on his day off, only to heave a sigh when he saw that it was Natasha.

Nat: Go get her, super-soldier 😉

Nat: You’d better give me all the tea tomorrow, or else I’ll decorate your shield with stickers.

Nat: Have fun!

“What the hell does ‘the tea’ mean…?” Steve murmured to himself as he shook his head at the spy’s eccentricities and tucked the phone back into his pocket. He took a moment to make sure that the roses hadn’t begun to wilt on the drive over and when he was satisfied with their appearance, he made his way up the driveway by the familiar yellow Volkswagen Bug and stepped onto the porch; nervously swallowing and wincing at how dry his throat had become, Steve ran a hand through his hair before pressing the doorbell and taking a step back, a smile making its way onto his face despite the anxiety fluttering away in his stomach.

Moments later, the door swung open to reveal (Y/N) and the breath was instantly knocked out of his lungs at the stunning sight. The historical-fiction novelist was dressed in an off-the-shoulder green blouse, short black jean skirt, sheer black tights and dark brown ankle boots, and her (Y/H/C) hair was fixed in the same intricate style she’d worn to the party at the Avengers Tower. Silver hoop earrings and a delicate book-shaped pendant accentuated the graceful slope of her neck, and her subtle touches of makeup brought out the sparkle in her (Y/E/C) eyes. While Steve stared in stunned disbelief, the hints of apprehension written across (Y/N)’s face melted away into a sweet, red-hued smile that he couldn’t help but return tenfold. “Hi, Steve.”

“Hi, (Y/N). You…You look so beautiful.” The historical-fiction novelist mumbled a bashful word of thanks and Steve held the bouquet out for her to take. “These are for you. I, um, I remember you saying in one of your emails that pink roses were your favorite.”

(Y/N) beamed as she accepted the bouquet of roses and took in their sweet-smelling scent. “They’re stunning, Steve, thank you! Let me just put these in some water-”

“I’ve got it, Booksmart.” A smirking Sam appeared at the doorway with his roommate’s purse in his hands, swapping her for the bouquet and giving Steve a look of exaggerated sternness. “Good to see you, Cap. So, you two’ve got a fun night planned; you’re gonna have her home at a respectful time, right?”

“Hi, Sam. I-”

“You don’t have to answer him, Steve, he’s just being a smart-ass.” After flashing Steve a smile, (Y/N) shot her best friend a glare and slung her purse strap over her shoulder. “Don’t you have anything better to do on a Friday night than annoy us, Birdbrain?”

Sam dramatically sighed and shook his head. “Sadly, not all of us are lucky enough to snag a date with a super-soldier, but I might meet up with Nat later and go to that new bar that just opened downtown. You two have fun, but not too much fun!”

They stepped down off the porch and made their way down the driveway to Steve’s motorcycle, and (Y/N) waited until the front door closed behind Sam to heave an exasperated sigh. “He’s a real character, isn’t he?”

“He’s certainly one of a kind, that’s for sure.” They both chuckled as he reached into his bike’s back compartment and withdrew the spare helmet. “I haven’t been out to very many restaurants here in D.C., so I was hoping that you’d know of a good one we can eat at tonight. Whatever you’d like, I’m game.”

(Y/N)’s eyes lit up in excitement as she fastened the helmet’s strap under her chin. “In that case, there’s a great food truck downtown that serves, hands-down, the best Mexican food. How does that sound?”

Steve straddled the motorcycle and waited for the historical-fiction novelist to lower herself onto the seat behind him before switching the engine on. “I’ve never had Mexican food, but I’ve always wanted to give it a try.”

“Trust me, you’re going to love it!” She exclaimed over the engine’s rumbling, and Steve smiled a little to himself when he felt her arms wrap around his waist. “1560 Wilson Boulevard, you can’t miss it!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve shot her a teasing grin over his shoulder and reveled in the feeling of her arms tightening around him as he peeled away from the curb and sped down the street.

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

Seated side-by-side on a brick planter box a little ways away from Pa’ Tortas El Papi’s bustling food truck, (Y/N) and Steve enjoyed their plates of street tacos and ice-cold Coca-Cola’s and fell into easy conversation as Tejano music played in the foreground and string lights twinkled in the tree branches above. (Y/N) was pleased and a little relieved when Steve told her how delicious their dinner was, knowing how different Mexican food was to the super-soldier’s usual cuisine, and there was a proud grin on her face as she watched him eagerly finish his second plate of tacos and regaled him with stories of her many trips to the food truck with Sam. With Steve, (Y/N) felt completely at ease and all of her worries – about the fallout of the Battle of Sokovia, about the legalities surrounding her breached studio contract, about Ultron’s defeat – were put out of her mind by the super-soldier’s comforting and near-addictive presence.

“I like this song,” Steve stated after they’d lapsed into a comfortable silence, both of them enjoying the last of their sodas while they people-watched from their secluded planter box. “It has a nice melody.”

“‘Amor Prohibido,’ released as a single in 1994 from the album of the same name and sung by the incomparable Selena Quintanilla…or just Selena, if you prefer, sort of like Beyoncé or Cher. It’s about forbidden love and wanting to be with someone despite everyone else’s misgivings about their relationship.” When (Y/N) glanced up from her empty glass bottle and caught sight of the awestruck expression on the super-soldier’s face, she felt her own face begin to warm in embarrassment and she awkwardly cleared her throat before continuing. “Anyway, it’s a very good song…one of my favorites of hers, actually.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head in amazement. “Sometimes I forget just how knowledgeable you are when it comes to music, and then you go and knock me onto my ass with a pitch-perfect summation of a random song’s background and details. It sounds cliché, but I don’t know any other word to call it other than incredible, (Y/N).” His azure eyes were shining as he spoke, and (Y/N) knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he meant every word he uttered; her lips curved into a smile before she wordlessly pressed a kiss onto the smooth skin of his cheek and scooted closer to lean her head on his shoulder, smiling even more when she felt his large hand gently wrap itself around hers. “My Spanish is a little rusty, but I’ll bet that there’s a music expert around here that could translate some of it for me.”

“‘Aquí solo importa nuestro amor, te quiero…’” (Y/N) quietly sang along to the impassioned tune and gave Steve’s hand a gentle squeeze as she translated. “‘All that matters here is our love, I love you…’”

Although they’d finally confessed their love for one another just two weeks prior, saying those three simple words aloud again sent a warm tingle throughout (Y/N)’s body, and she was reminded of the super-soldier’s breathtaking grin and the feel of his soft lips caressing hers as they stood in the deserted hangar of the old S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier.

Instead of replying, Steve simply closed his eyes and hummed along to the melody of the song as a light blush dusted over his cheeks, and (Y/N) seized the rare opportunity to study her distracted date; his handsome face was fully free of the guarded expression he’d continuously worn when they first met, making him appear younger and resemble the ninety-five pound man he’d always been before his recruitment into Project Rebirth, and her heart warmed in her chest when she realized her role in helping him open up and slowly but surely join a world that he once believed that he would never belong in. Not many people are lucky enough to see the man behind the shield, (Y/N) thought as she rested her head back on Steve’s shoulder and smiled to herself, but right now I feel like I’m the luckiest person alive.

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

“Wait a minute. Wait a minute, Doc, uh, are you tellin’ me you built a time machine…out of a DeLorean?”

“The way I see it, if you’re gonna built a time machine into a car, why not do it with some style?”

The auditorium echoed with chuckles of amusement at Doc Brown’s reply and while the time traveling car suddenly blazed its way back onto the screen, Steve bit his lip to hide his disbelief from (Y/N), who was engrossed in the ongoing film right beside him. When he picked a 30th Anniversary screening of Back to the Future for his and (Y/N)’s first date, it hadn’t occurred to him that it was a film revolving around time travel, and the irony of being a man out of time taking his incredibly modern girlfriend to see it was definitely not lost on him. It was a fun film that took a more science-fiction route in regard to the time travel aspect – and as someone who’d gone from 1945 to 2012 in the blink of an eye, it was a nice change of pace seeing someone go from present day to being a fish out of water in the past – but Steve started to feel slightly uncomfortable when the high school-aged George McFly was introduced.

Unsurprisingly, Steve was the furthest thing from popular in high school; he was short, skinny and interested in art and the few girls who’d acknowledge his presence were only interested in fishing for a date with Bucky. The only real difference between him and George McFly was that, despite his abysmal success rate, he always fought back against his bullies instead of cowering from confrontation like George. However, it was George’s infatuation with Lorraine that struck Steve; like him, the high-schooler was hopeless with girls and had a difficult time expressing himself around his crush, something that Steve still struggled with over eighty years later. It had taken nothing short of a world-ending threat for Steve to finally confess his love to (Y/N) and when the adrenaline of the Battle of Sokovia finally wore off, so too did his forwardness.

Bucky always made this sort of thing look so damn easy, Steve silently bemoaned and swallowed thickly, his eyes trained on the screen as he contemplated whether or not he should wrap his arm around the historical-fiction novelist’s shoulders. He reached into their shared bucket of popcorn and sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers suddenly brushed against (Y/N)’s; when he looked over at her, she was smiling at him and he felt himself smile back as she tossed a kernel of popcorn into her mouth that was accompanied by a flirtatious wink and returned her attention back to the screen.

It wasn’t until George and Lorraine’s much-anticipated dance in the school’s decorated gymnasium that Steve found the opportune moment to make his move. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he moved his arm up and slowly lowered it to rest around (Y/N)’s shoulders; he was careful to avoid the bare skin of her shoulder and curl his fingers around the silky material covering her upper arm, but the respectful gesture didn’t stop him from feeling the warmth radiating off of her or detecting the subtle uptick of her heartbeat at his careful touch. Steve’s own breath hitched when the historical-fiction novelist not only scooted closer to his side, but also rested her head on his shoulder; he didn’t bother fighting the smile that stretched across his face as his body relaxed and he leaned his cheek against the top of her head, feeling nothing but love for the woman sitting beside him while they both watched George and Lorraine finally share a sweet kiss.

“Earth Angel, Earth Angel, please be mine. My darling dear, love you for all time. I’m just a fool, a fool in love with you…”

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

The moon was shining high in the darkened sky when Steve finally took (Y/N) back home. After the movie, they’d spontaneously decided to visit a nearby ice cream parlor and enjoy their frozen treats while strolling around the block arm-in-arm, and it wasn’t until they noticed several bars beginning to close for the night that they realized just how late it was; they were having too much fun eating their ice cream and laughing at (Y/N)’s many attempts to teach Steve how Instagram filters worked, but they were mainly just enjoying spending time in one another’s presence. The rumbling of the super-soldier’s motorcycle ceased when he parked in front of (Y/N) and Sam’s house and switched off the engine, and silence settled over the street as he gallantly walked alongside her to the porch.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” Standing on the porch, (Y/N) gave Steve – who was nearly eye-to-eye with her from where he stood at the base of the steps – a teasing grin. “You sure know how to show a lady a good time, Captain Rogers.”

Steve chuckled at that. “Yeah, well, you’d be the first lady to ever think that; most of Bucky and mine’s double dates usually ended with my date forgetting that I existed and both gals trying to make a move on Buck.”

“I suppose it’s their loss and my gain, then.” While Steve’s cheeks turned pink at her compliment, (Y/N) shrugged off the leather jacket he’d insisted on letting her wear when she started to shiver during their stroll, cringing at the cool night air on her flushed skin but handing the jacket over to him; she took a moment to admire the super-soldier’s muscular physique while he slid his jacket back on and was forced to clear her throat before continuing. “Well, I…I should probably head in; Sam’s probably spying on us as we speak and waiting to interrogate me.”

“I’m sure he’d be at the window if he hadn’t fallen asleep while watching reruns of NCIS.” A teasing smile of his own curved his lips upwards when (Y/N) furrowed her brow in confusion. “Good hearing’s just one of the many side effects of being a super-soldier.”

Sometimes, it was easy for (Y/N) to forget that the man standing before her was Captain America, a bonafide superhero who could lift a ton without breaking a sweat and who miraculously survived being frozen in ice for nearly seventy years. To her, he was just Steve Rogers, a handsome man who strived to learn as much as he could, who had a dry but witty sense of humor and who made her feel well and truly loved. “I meant what I said earlier,” (Y/N) quietly admitted and reached out to hold one of Steve’s hands. “Tonight was the most fun I’ve had in…well, a pretty long time.”

Steve’s azure eyes softened as he nodded in agreement. “Me too. I wish it didn’t have to end.” When she arched a brow at that, his eyes widened in panic and he stammered out, “T-That’s, um, that’s not what I meant, I wasn’t trying to…not that I don’t want to, you know, but…I swear, I’m not implying that you and I should…” He awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck and let out an embarrassed groan. “Ninety-seven, and I still can’t talk to a beautiful woman without gettin’ tongue-tied.”

(Y/N) giggled. “That’s true…” Smiling, she brought her free hand up card her fingers through his hair before gently cupping his smooth jaw. “But it’s also one of the many things I love about you.”

Steve gave her a breathtaking grin and leaned forward, his impossibly-long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as his soft lips met hers; the gentle and passionate way that Steve kissed her made her feel cherished and while his hand moved to rest on the curve of her waist, she couldn’t help but marvel at how the highly-trained super-soldier’s touch was nothing short of reverential when it came to her. His kisses were addictive and as they finally separated for air, she found herself moving forward to press one last lingering kiss onto his swollen lips before pulling away far enough to meet his hooded gaze. “That was…”

“Scandalous? Inappropriate?” (Y/N) jokingly offered. “Something that would’ve ruined both our reputations in the 1940’s?”

“Incredible.” Steve finished, and the tender gleam that filled his azure eyes as he looked at her caused her own cheeks to flush. “You’re incredible, sunshine.”

That was the first time he’d ever called her something other than her given name, and the added emphasis on the term of affection certainly wasn’t lost on her. In the back of her mind, she resolved to ask him about it one day but in that moment, she all but glowed and bit her lip in a poor attempt to hide her bashful grin. “I know how busy you are with the move to the Avengers’ new facility and the fallout of the Battle of Sokovia, so I’m not sure when we’ll be able to go out again but I hope it’s soon.” After Steve nodded in agreement, (Y/N) pressed a chaste kiss onto his cheek and with a small pang of reluctance, she pulled away from his arms and finally let go of his hand. “G’night, Steve.”

“’Night, (Y/N).”

They shared one final smile before turning away from one another, (Y/N) to unlock the front door and step inside and Steve to walk down to where he’d parked his motorcycle. She gave him a wave once she saw him sitting astride the bike and stepped into the house, but the brief chime of her cell phone forced her to quickly lock up before checking her unread text messages.

Steve: I don’t think that there’s an adequate enough way to thank you for such a wonderful night, sunshine, but I was hoping I could take you out again tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at eight for dinner and another movie?

While her heart practically burst out of her chest with happiness, (Y/N) typed out a brief but enthusiastic reply and tiptoed into the living room to wake her sleeping roommate, but not before giving the vase of pink roses sitting on the kitchen counter an appraising smile and taking note of the fading rumble of a familiar motorcycle outside.

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

A/N: And there we have it! What did you think of their first date?? 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 II: “Age of Ultron” Masterlist

Tagging:  @mrs-obrien​​​​​ @lahoete​​​​​ @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk​​​​ @momc95​​​​​ @savedbystyle​​​​​ @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat​​​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​ @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​ @hufflepeople​​​​​ @becausewelie​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​​ @junipermurdock​​​​​ @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley​​​​​ @username23345@crist1216​​​​​ @capswife​​​​​ @lilmschild​​​​​ @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​ @y-napotat​​​ @mary1raven​​​​​ @groovyqueer​​​​​ @ljej95​​​​​ @innersublimefury​​​ @prettysbliss​​​​​​  

[saint-ajax]

trouble man

EVERY THOUGHT HAS BEEN UNDER SCRUTINY. She thought about it hard enough for her to come back home to her parents. It had been three months since the incident, and he gave her nothing but radio silence. While she suffered alone through confusion and betrayal. 

It was a rainy night in NYC. But she did not let the weather wipe away her excitement about seeing friends on a Friday night. Chatter and music, specifically Trouble Man by Marvin Gaye, were what welcomed her into the bar while she wandered her gaze to search for her company tonight.

She walked further over the bar and found someone she didn’t expect to see. It was Steve. She figured it out from the back because of his vintage leather jacket. She was confused at first. He told her that he would be at work the whole weekend. So this must not be him. But eventually, a smile crept onto her lips, realizing it might be him. It’s been a week since she last saw him. How she missed him.

  Only to be abrupt with a frown when a slender figure crossed her sight. A random lady in a bodycon was batting her lashes at the man in front of her.

Confusion was written all over her face as she watched the two exchange timid laughter. She froze on her spot and couldn’t approach them. She watched as she slapped his biceps playfully. She was confused, but she wasn’t dumb. She saw how the lady started to lean in on him. As if she was about to kiss him.

“Steve..?” She was weak in the knees at the scene in front of her. But her fragile voice calling out to him was her only way of defense. To try to stop whatever was about to unfold.

She prayed so hard. She prayed so hard in those milliseconds before the man looked behind him. She prayed for him to not be her man. 

But those same innocent blue eyes found her frayed ones. His expression was quick to change from confusion to shock. He stood up from his seat when he realized that it was her who called out his name. He looked back at the random lady he was talking to and back to his woman. Her eyes held pain as she looked back at him.

When it hit him what she must've thought about what was happening, he was about to speak, but the woman behind him interrupted him.

“Do you know her?” The lady behind him said. He closed his mouth before saying what that was about to punch her in the gut.

“No.”

No.

No. He did not know her. Those two letters echoed in her mind. They were like daggers stabbing her in the chest as it repeated again and again.

“Oh, okay. Let's get you another drink. Excuse me, another whiskey over here, please!”

He didn't even glance back at her before turning his attention back at the lady, and it broke her.

She was embarrassed. She was hurt. She was confused. She was denied. 

She was about to turn her back and leave, but her name was yelled.

When she looked back and saw her friends, she remembered what she came for. She saw the blond man and the lady once again talking, and it now infuriated her as she marched past them.

She tried to compose herself before speaking to people who knew her. “Hey, uhm, have– have you guys seen Steve here before I arrived?”

“Steve? Oh, right. That's Steve?! We thought it wasn't him 'cause that man has been flirting with that lady over there all night…” 

She nodded and wiped away the single tear that fell from her eye. “Okay. I'll head home now. I'm sorry.”

They called out to her and tried to chase her. “—wait!” 

She ran past the two again and headed outside in the rain. She didn't stop and she didn't know why. She kept running until a beaming light and a deafening horn from a vehicle stopped her in her tracks.

“Watch where the fuck you're going lady!” And it ran over her.

Her friends called from behind her and ran to her. “What the hell are you doing?! You could've died! You're all wet now! What happened?”

She couldn't form any words. All she could do was break down in tears in the streets of New York at midnight.

“Sweety.. Did he not tell you he was gonna be there?” Her friend's tone became gentler, and she looked at her and shook her head.

“What an asshole. I expected better than that from Captain America. Come on, darling, let's get you home and dry.”

She reacted the way she did to the incident that night. She listened to her friend when she said to ignore him no matter what he does because he deserves it. Although, even when she planned to hear his side, and have him explain everything to her, none of it happened. He did not reach out to her. He did not come to her and explain everything. So she had nothing to ignore and give another chance to, which tore her to pieces day by day.

A fresh breezy wind passed by her skin as she sat down with a book in hand. That was three months ago. She decided to come to her hometown and stay away from the city that screamed his name. Here, she was surrounded by people she could trust and feel safe with.

“Honey, you have a visitor.” When she saw her mother's excited smile, she couldn't help but still hope. She wishes that it would be him. The past three months were still fresh, and every thought that crossed her mind was him. It never changed.

“Coming.”

She entered the living room and found a familiar face. Disappointment poked another hole in her chest. She brushed it off with a fake smile, as she was still surprised. “Paolo? Oh my, it's been so long!” The grown man smiling wildly at her ran to her open arms and embraced a friendly hug. It was her childhood friend from their village. 

“So.. What brought you here?”

“I heard you were back in town, so I figured why not visit you, aye?” She nodded and gave him a small smile.

“Of course.”

“So, can I take you out? This town misses you so much. I know I do.”

“Take me out? Like.. a date?” She awkwardly asked. She wasn't ready for that. She's not available. Yet.

She invited him to sit on the couch with her. “Yeah! Why? Are you single?”

“No. She's taken.” That voice. That baritone voice struck her like lightning. It straightened her back and widened her eyes. 

She slowly looked up and saw home. She found and finally felt at home when she met his ocean eyes. She was once again falling for his innocent eyes.

“I'm so sorry I took so long, love.”

He was slowly walking up to her. She was speechless. She wanted to cry. She wanted to run into his arms. She had forgotten why she hadn't seen him for months, and she just wanted to feel his arms around her. It was all she wanted to do as tears filled her eyes.

“Who’s this? Do you know this guy?”

“Do you know her?”

“No.”

All of a sudden, she remembered what she felt three months ago at the bar where he denied her.

“No. I don't know this guy. Mom! Why did you let a stranger in!” She stood up and glared at him. She tried to find her mom, but when she walked past him, he grabbed her by the arm and made her face him. His eyebrows creased in confusion as he cupped her face.

“Love? What's wrong?” She frowned and held his hands on her cheeks to take it off and fight. He let her take off his hands on her face, but he pulled her closer by the waist.

“Why are you acting like this, baby? Tell me what's wrong.”

“What the hell is wrong with you, Rogers?!” He looked even more confused at her anger. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Language.. baby.” She threw his arms off her waist and broke free.

“Have you gone insane? How dare you come to my parents’ house and act like nothing happened!” 

“What? Love, I don't understand.”

“Will you stop acting like you don't remember? You're a goddamn super soldier, for goodness sake!” His face became serious, and he called her name.

“Tell me what's wrong. I don't understand.”

“What’s wrong? Ask what's right! What's right with what you did, Steve! Nothing! Nothing's right! Nothing was correct with that!” She suddenly found herself hitting his chest as she sobbed.

“What did I do, baby? Please, tell me.”

“You denied me!” 

It nearly broke her apart as she said those words. “You.. denied me.”

“What? When?”

“At the bar! When I last saw you! And I didn't hear one thing from you for the past three months, and now you barge in like nothing fucking happened? You're unbelievable.”

“At the bar? Baby, I was on a mission. I was undercover. I told you that. I called you.” She looked at him as if she couldn’t believe him.

“What? You’re really using your job as an excuse?”

“No, sweetheart, I would never do that. It was a mission. I intended to let you know, but you weren’t picking up your phone.” She felt ridiculed. She wiped her tears as she shook her head. She pushed him gently for some space and looked away.

“Okay..” She exhaled as she took in his excuses. “Then explain why I heard nothing.. Not a single thing from you for the past three months, Steve Rogers.” 

He hesitated at first. It sounded as ridiculous as he knew it would be to her. “I.. I was at work. We were in Sokovia for a mission.” He looked down with a frown in shame.

“And you had zero chance to call me? You saw how I reacted to your “mission.” You saw me in that bar. You gave me radio silence, Steve. How do you expect me to react?” 

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I’m truly sorry, love. I didn’t think you would take it that way.” Sincerity flashed in his coral-addicting eyes. And he sounded like a troubled man. He was sorry. He sounded genuine, and it healed something inside of her. 

“I thought you'd understand.”

“Well, I guess it's just unfair for you to expect me to understand all the damn time.” 

They bore their eyes into each other. He was trying to read her emotions, but there was nothing there now. 

“Excuse me?” She suddenly remembered that she had a visitor.

“I.. I’m sorry. I forgot you were here.”

“It’s alright.” He stood up and walked over them. “I’ll just come back and tell you more about our date.” Steve was quick to react to the man’s words. He frowned at him.

Steve watched as she gave him a forced smile, and leaned in to whisper something while he rub her back in their side hug. He grinned at her before leaving.

Once the man was out of sight, he asked, “So... you’re dating now?” 

“It’s none of your business.” She was full of spitefulness, and it was obvious on her frigid tone. His brows creased as he questioned her.

“It is my business. You’re mine. We’re not over yet, love, it’s only a misunderstanding.” He was starting to plead as he was ready to. He was ready to do anything to get back the woman who made his heart beat again after 1945.

“I think after hearing nothing from me for three months? You’ll assume we’re done too.” He frowned and looked down. He nodded. He couldn’t knock down her icy guard. He was built to tear down forces to protect the people. But her defense against him seems to be unbeatable. He wouldn’t give up. Not on her. But he was still hurt.

“I will give you some space.” He turned his back on her, but he was stopped when she grabbed his arm and placed her palms against his cheeks. A bliss of relief flourished inside of her when she finally felt his warm and soft skin. Her palms were carved over his sharp jaw. Feeling his stubble against her skin, she tiptoed to reach his lips, which yearned for hers.

He wasted no time responding to her passionate kiss. Her hands couldn’t get off his face while his hands curled along her waist. Their lips crashed, corresponding to one another’s longing. 

She let go first. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done, but she knew she had to. “You know that I love you.. But Steve, you’ve put me through so much.” She tightened her shut eyes before leaving a mark on his forehead.

He was speechless and couldn’t do anything but accept everything she was generous enough to give him. Slowly, she untangled his arms around her waist and let go of him. 

“If you want me back… I’ll know.” 

She said that before running upstairs and leaving him by himself. He stood there, staring down at the floor, processing what had happened. What he had done and what it did to her. 

“Steve, did you get to talk to her?” Her mother’s voice pulled him out of his spiraling. He looked at the path she took before she left and nodded at the lady.

“Yes, ma’am. She went to her room.”

“Oh, okay. I’m glad you finally talked to each other before she leaves.” He looked puzzled. 

“Before she leaves?”

“Oh, yes. Did she not tell you? She’s going to be relocated at work.”

“No, she didn’t tell me..”

“She’s leaving early tomorrow. You know where the airport is if you want to catch her, son.” He nodded and politely smiled.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

The whole night, the same as every other night, she thought of him. Why was it that easy for him to give her space? Well.. He gave her a long ass space for months, how hard could it be for him? Are they really over? Was it truly a mission? Did she overreact? How come he didn’t find time to text or message her? She believed him when he said that he was in Sokovia, it was all over the news. But still. If he’s really sorry, then he’ll do something. Right?

She sighed and gave up. She forced herself to think of nothing and go into slumber as she had to get ready for her flight.

Morning rose, and she did and had everything she needed before heading downstairs for breakfast.

“Good morning.” Her father at the dining table greeted her. 

“Good morning. Are you ready, dad? We need to leave after breakfast.”

“Of course.” She nodded and started eating as planned. 

The morning was normal. Normal, quiet, yet unlively. There was something missing. She knew too well what that was. “I heard you had visitors last night.” Her dad’s voice brought her back to her senses just in time before she started to spiral and possibly cry. 

“Yes.”

“Did you get to talk to him?” Him. He who shall not be named. 

“Yes, dad.”

“And what did he say?”

“That.. It was for a mission. An undercover.” She started playing with her food as the thought of last night stole her appetite.

“Well? Then why do you look like that? You don’t believe him?” His father’s tone was firm. Commanding. She shook her head in response. “It is the Captain of America you’re dating, isn’t that right, young lady?”

She sighed. “Yes.. dad.” 

“You must know what you had gotten yourself into then.” She frowned and nodded. She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, she just couldn’t wait for her dad to get to his point.

“Then what is the problem? Did he not tell you he’s sorry?”

“He did. He said he was sorry.” She was starting to feel annoyed.

“You think he’s lying?”

She stayed silent as she frowned at nothing.

“Men lie all the time, that’s proven right all the time, I know. But Steve Rogers.. is not like any other man I’ve met, daughter. He’s a soldier. He wasn’t physically qualified, but his spirit was. Loyal, sincere, and brave. Don’t you remember that? Those were your exact words defending your hundred-year-old boyfriend to me. ”

She scoffed and almost smiled at his dad’s face. He was scowling. “I remember, dad. It was the speech that  convinced you to let me date him. ”

“The question is, will it work on you as well? I’ve never seen you happier when you were with him, sweetheart.”

She smiled at his dad’s remark. “I don’t need convincing, dad. I just need some wooing.” His dad rolled his eyes at her, and it was the funniest thing she’s seen this morning, making her chuckle.

“Honey, don’t you have a flight to fly to?” Her mom popped out of the garden in her gardening attire.

“Yes, mom. Just in time. Let’s go, Dad.” After bidding her goodbye to her mom, her dad drove her to the airport and said goodbye there.

“Take care, Dad.” She waved at him and watched as his car drove away. She entered the building and went through security. The busy ambiance of the place kept her mind busy from things she had to worry about. 

She was an hour early before her flight, and so she sat on the chair intended for standby passengers to use. There, she started wondering. She still hadn’t heard from him. He said he would give her some space. What does that mean? Is it really.. Is it over now?

She was biting her nails as she watched the crowd walk and attend their businesses over and over until the microphone announced her flight.

She dragged her suitcase to the line of people she will share the plane with. In the back of her mind, she was still hoping. She always does. Just another glimpse of him would be enough. She told herself.

Until her name was called, she thought it was her turn. She thought the flight attendant called her name,  but it came from far away. From the back. She looked back and saw that the voice that was calling to her was stealing people’s attention. She tried to find out who was calling her. And there she saw a tall, masculine blond man running to her.

“Steve?” She was about to ask herself, but the woman beside her did it first.

“Isn’t that Captain America?” And so all the people in the airport murmured.

“Why is he here?”

“Oh my god! Are we safe?!”

The whole place went into silence once he reached her. He said her name. “I need you to listen to me, please.”

“What are you doing here? How did you know..?”

“I’m here to let you know I want you back.”

She was confused by all the commotion from the back, but she was still focused on the man pleading in front of her. “It was for an undercover, my love. I would never do something like that to you. Please believe me.”

“Always. Of course.” She sighed in disbelief. She had heard this reason a thousand times.

“I know it’s hard to hear it from me. I know I understand. So, I thought if you heard it from someone else, you’d give me another chance.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Hey..” A feminine voice came from behind him. When he walked aside, Natasha Romanoff showed up. “I know it looked bad, and you must’ve felt awful. But it’s true, it was for a mission, and we didn’t expect you to be there. It was all a misunderstanding. I hope you give him another chance.”

“Uh, hi. I’m Clint Barton. Captain’s co-wor… friend.” Another one popped up from behind Natasha and reached for her hand to shake. She took it, despite being bewildered. “I was with them that night. I would also testify that it was what happened. ”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Bruce Banner. I wasn’t involved in the operation, but I was aware of the plan. I’m also here to testify.” Another confused handshake happened before another tall blond man showed up behind him. How many people did he bring?

“Good day, lady of Rogers; I am Thor Odinson of Asgard. I am here to give my word that Rogers is an honest and sincere man. I wasn’t also involved in the said mission but eventually informed, and I do not believe Steve would be able to do that to you.” He smiled and bowed at her, and she nodded confusedly. 

“Hey, hi. I’m Tony..” He reached for her hands and quickly shook them. “I heard what happened, and he looked pretty bad, I’m not gonna lie. But Cap’s the most honest person you’ll ever meet. You’re a good influence on him, he’s not cranky when he is with you.” They chuckled at him, and she almost did, except she was still trying to take in everything. “We all know how sorry he is, so we wish you find it in you to forgive him.”

And he stepped back. They lined up on her right, and she was waiting to see if they were all done or if there was another one.  And a tall, dark man walked in with a patch on his other eye. He was a serious man. “Apologies for interrupting your flight,” he said her name, and she just watched him, waiting for what he had to say. “I’m Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. I was the one in charge of the mission that went badly for the two of you. Here is the confidential file about the mission, there was nothing but professionalism that night. We hope you understand.” 

A huge black folder was handed to her. When she took it, it was heavy. She opened it, and it was a tablet containing tons of information about the same stranger lady she saw that night. And everything else that answered why they needed to conduct the mission that caused a quarrel between her and her man. 

A slight crease was carved on Nick’s forehead as he watched Steve’s significant other handle the tablet expertly. He took note of it in the back of his mind, and ignored it for now when she handed back the tablet.

“I.. Steve? I.. I know, I believe you that it was for work.. But did no appearance for 3 months come along with it?”

“The Avengers went through a lot at that time, and it’s my fault. Aside from them not being able to contact any relatives, I prohibited it for their own sake and yours. Considering that the main opponent’s strength was the internet.” Fury jumped in to explain to her, and she nodded understandingly.

“It’s still not a valid reason to leave you like that, I know. You were confused, betrayed, and hurt. I should’ve done better. I could’ve found ways. I’m so sorry. Will you forgive me? I love you. I can’t afford to lose you.” She was once again being lured by his sky-blue eyes. And those three words were the only thing she needed to accept him again. She held his cheek and read the genuineness in his eyes.

She nodded eagerly, “I forgive you, love. I love you.” He smiled up to his eyes and did not only captivate her heart again but also her lips, which he longed to feel.

“Yes!” Thor yelled with a wide grin, starting the applause of the crowd. Natasha smiled at the couple reuniting, and so did the others.

“Whoop— Okay, job well done, I guess,”  Tony commented on the side.

The airport interrupted the commotion with her flight’s announcement. When their kiss ended, they stared at each other while their foreheads touched. “What about my flight?” She asked him.

“Do you mind me joining you?” She gasped at him. “Stark got us first-class seats.”

“Oh, really? That’s so sweet.” She looked at the six people who bothered to come to her just to convince her. “Thank you. Thank you all for coming just to help Steve. I appreciate it. I can’t believe he had the Avengers come here just to say sorry.” 

“We’re not paid for this, so it’s good to know that we convinced you,” Tony replied, making them chuckle. “You two better get going before you miss your flight.” They both nodded, said their goodbyes, and expressed gratitude.

As they sat on their first-class window seats, they couldn’t take their hands off of each other. They kept talking and catching up until everybody else on the plane fell asleep on their seats and the lights were dimmed.

“I missed you so much,” Steve whispered in her ear as he inhaled her sweet scent by the neck as she sat on his lap.

“I missed you more, love.” She murmured back as she snuggled in his chest and put his heart beat by her ear. It was the most comforting beat. The inhumane beat of his heart was a sign he was alive and well, which gives comfort to her.

“You know what? We should have a code name for you. So if a similar situation like this happens, you could still write to me.” He smiled as he brushed her hair softly with his fingers.

“Okay, I like that idea. Writing to you. What code name are you thinking of?”

She smiled and adjusted to kiss his lips.

“Trouble man.”

He chuckled and stole her lips for a passionate kiss as he let his hands roam. “Trouble man it is.”

[bgwlsmahf25]

If She Could, She Would pt2

pairing: Natasha x reader

Warnings: mentions of HYDRA; mentions of the Red Room; nat almost breaking your heart; bits of angst

Genre: fluff; sprinkling of angst

a/n: here is part 2 as requested! Hope you’ve enjoyed this story :)

“Hi.” You stared worriedly at Natasha then sighed. “That bad, huh?”

“Clint…” Her jaw was clenched and she had worry lines on her forehead. She was pacing up and down, deep in thought, occasionally glancing up to make sure you were still there.

“...is going to be fine,” you finished calmly. “I just checked in on him. Helen is confident. She’s the best at what she does.” You paused. “The mission?”

“Difficult.” Natasha chewed her lip. “HYDRA’s got two enhanced with them: a boy and a girl.”

You looked up as Maria walked in, Tony in tow. Natasha went straight to him and they began conversing in low voices. Maria walked over to you, handing you a tablet. “Find them. Anything you can.”

Several nights passed, each one longer than the last. You were the last to bed and one of the first to rise. You were mainlining coffee and sandwiches, afraid to leave your computer for a second in case valuable intel arrived at any second.

Papers were scattered across your desk, your floor and most of your bed. The papers started to grow in height, unwieldy stacks appearing across your room. You had long ago given up on team movie nights.

Tony persuaded you to briefly show your face at his party, but then Ultron emerged and the Avengers were no longer concerned with galas and gatherings. You started to delve into Ultron, tracking him through databases and mainframes, often ending with a burnt out battery, your computer smoking in protest.

One afternoon (or it could have been evening, you neither knew nor cared) there was a knock on your door. Startled, you looked up then awkwardly maneuvered your way to the door. Opening it, you found Natasha on the other side and you could tell from her face that she wasn’t happy.

“Come in.” You stepped aside, as much as you could, and she entered your room. “Forgive the papers. Research.”

“Y/n, how long have you been in here?” she said quietly.

“A while.” You stared at Natasha. “Why? What’s happened?”

“A lot.” Natasha sighed. “We’re… scattered right now. What have you found on the twins?”

You turned back to your laptop, groaning as you noticed smoke trickling out the side. Wrenching it open, you pulled the extinguished battery out and replaced it with a fresh one from the stack on your desk. You picked up a piece of paper and turned back to Natasha. “I was coming to find you, actually.”

“Why?”

“Have you ever heard of the Red Room?”

Natasha seemed to freeze, her shoulders tensing and a far-away anxious expression appearing on her face. She clenched her hands tightly into fists, the knuckles going white and let out a short, sharp breath.

“You have heard of them. Who are they?”

“No,” she whispered. “Don’t ask me that, y/n. W-why are you asking about them?”

“Natasha, what’s going on?” you said, dropping the piece of paper and putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Tell me.” Her voice was harsh and cold and you reeled backwards in surprise.

“I, uh… I was in contact with someone. They were talking about the Red Room, they said to ask the Black Widow if I wanted to know more. It came up as a possible source of comparison for what HYDRA have done to the Maximoff twins - that’s the enhanced you saw at Strucker’s base.”

Natasha glanced at her phone as it began lighting up with messages. She ignored it and stared at you. “Give me the name of your source.”

“N-no, I can’t do that, Natasha. I promised to keep their identity secret.”

“Y/n, I’m not asking. Give me the name of your source.”

“No.” You felt suddenly afraid that Natasha might harm you, but you stared her down. “I’m not releasing that information to you.”

“I will find it,” she said, turning and leaving your room. “When I am back. We are off to Seoul.”

***

“Y/n! I don’t care what you’re doing in there, get your ass out here now!” Furious hammering began at your door.

“Alright, alright, jeez, I’m coming.” You opened the door to find Maria and some SHIELD agents on the other side. From Maria’s expression, you knew it wasn’t good. “What happened?”

“It’s Natasha. She’s been captured by Ultron. We need to find where he’s keeping her. I’ve got every resource on it, but I thought you should know.”

You stared at Maria in barely concealed horror. “Y-yes. I’m on it.” Sweeping papers aside, you sat down at your desk and began typing furiously, filling your screen with lines of code. Ultron’s sources began to attack back and you realised you were in for a long battle. “I’m coming, Nat,” you murmured. “I will find you. Whatever it takes.”

***

“They’re in Sokovia. They’ve got three minutes to suit up and we’re going there.” Steve looked at you, Maria and the rest of the SHIELD agents he’d assembled. “I need you here. Check all communications. If anything changes by one second, you tell me.” He started to leave the room, then put a hand on your shoulder. “Clint’s got a bearing on her. We’ll bring her back safe, y/n.”

You nodded, wondering why Steve was taking time away from his mission to tell you. You were worried about Natasha, but you’d barely seen her and her reaction to the news about the Red Room still played in your mind. She didn’t trust you and she was angry at you. And she was still in the hands of Ultron…

***

“It’s taking off!”

“The whole thing is moving!”

“There are people on it!”

“People. People, calm down!” Nick’s voice sounded amongst the chatter of the SHIELD agents, as you all watched Sokovia lifting into the air. “We will be going to their assistance. You.” He pointed at an agent hunched over a computer. “How many multi-person carriers have we got?”

“I, uh, sir…”

“Seventeen,” you said calmly. “At first count.”

“Seventeen? This is Sokovia we’re talking about. Find me more!”

“I’m on it, sir.” You reached over and prodded the other agent. “Look alive, Anders, we need quick fingers and even quicker minds for this job. Divert all non-essential traffic to other services. Then re-direct all carriers to SHIELD usage. Destination: Sokovia.”

“Right.” Anders seemed to be in a daze and you sighed.

“Guess I’m doing it myself,” you muttered, flexing your fingers and beginning to type. “If you’re not helping, Anders, then find me someone who will. Move it!”

He nervously jumped and scurried off across the room, frantically talking to other agents and pointing at you.

***

“You know,” another agent slid into a seat beside you, “the Black Widow wants Dr Banner.”

“What do you mean?” You felt fear creep into your mind. Had you lost your chance with Natasha?

“You don’t know? Something happened between Romanoff and Banner, I don’t know all the details, but I know that they’re an item.”

Your heart sank. She was gone and you’d never had a chance to respond to her gesture with the scrapbook. What were you supposed to do now?

“Agent?”

“Get on with your work,” you snapped. “I need a coffee.” You pushed your chair back and strode out of the room, feeling angry and sad at the same time.

Heading into the break room, you burst into tears, sinking to your knees on the ground, taking great gasping breaths. Your heart felt like it had been shattered into a million pieces and you cursed the day you met Natasha Romanoff.

***

“Ultron destroyed. Sokovia was also destroyed,” you said grimly. “Maximoff twins recruited. Not too many lost. I’d say that’s a win, sir.”

“Of course it’s a damn win,” Fury ground his teeth. “And I’m alive again.” He sighed. “I’ve been watching you, Agent y/l/n. You’re a quick learner. How ‘bout a promotion? Come and work in my office.”

“Sir, I - thank you, sir, I’d be honoured.”

“Alright, that's settled.” Fury followed your gaze to where Natasha was standing, staring blankly at the wall ahead of her. “Go on. My news for her can wait.”

You headed over, unsure what you wanted to say. Then you remembered that she was with Bruce Banner now and you started to walk away. You weren’t going to talk to her, you weren’t going to interact with her anymore. It hurt too much.

“I know you’re there. Aren’t you going to say hello?”

“I don’t know if I should.”

Natasha turned, taking you in. She bit her lip, a knowing look in her eyes, and took a step towards you. “Y/n.”

“No.” You put your hands up, whether protecting yourself or pushing her away, you didn’t know which. “No. You don’t get to - no. No more.”

“Y/n.” She continued to walk towards you. “Let me explain.”

“No.” You turned and began to walk away. “You don’t get to come close anymore.”

“This is about Dr Banner.” You froze. “This is about the rumours going around about me and him. You know how you feel about me, but you won’t say it because it looks like I’ve moved on.”

“You have,” you whispered.

“No.”

“Yes, you have,” you insisted. “I don’t have a chance anymore, and I’m not sure I ever did.”

“As if you were with me. As if you were beside me.”

“No. Don’t. Don’t say that, it’s not true.” Hurt flashed across Natasha’s face. “It’s not true.”

“As if you were walking right beside me. Watching the same movies. Eating the same food. Sleeping in tiny motels. Chasing leads that end in nothing. Taking photographs because you want the memories of travelling across Europe and Africa with me.”

“Natasha… no. You don’t get to worm your way in anymore.” Tears were starting to run down your cheeks. “My heart doesn’t belong to you.”

“But mine belongs to you,” she whispered.

You let out a bitter laugh. “That’s not true.”

“Will you let me decide what’s true?” she snapped, her patience finally breaking. “Let me explain, y/n.”

“No,” you whispered, walking away. “Not anymore. I won’t take it anymore.”

***

“Romanoff’s been training me.” Wanda eyed you curiously. “There’s something there, isn’t there?”

“Wanda, don’t push it,” you sighed, furiously beating some eggs. “Not if you want breakfast.”

“You’re doing it all wrong.” She leant forwards, taking your hand in hers and guiding your hand in a circular motion. “This will make eggs fluffy. That,” she mimicked your old movement, “will not do anything.”

“Whatever,” you sighed, handing her the bowl. “How’s training going?”

“You’d know if you joined us.”

“It’s not for me. I’m not an Avenger, I’m just a field agent.”

“Who works for the management of this place.” Wanda looked at you. “Your thoughts are loud.”

“Hey, get out of my mind!” you said, annoyed but not angry. “Leave my thoughts alone.”

“Y/n, even without reading your mind, I can see you’re unhappy.” Wanda’s tone was gentle and you sighed. “I know that you miss her. Why won’t you talk to her?”

“Wanda, she doesn’t want to hear from me.”

“Yes, I do.” You spun around to see Natasha walking into the common room, staring at you with an intense gaze. “You shut me out, not the other way around.”

“I didn’t - no, that’s…” You spluttered then sighed again, knowing she was right. “Whatever. Hello, Natasha.”

“Ooh, so formal,” she gently teased, sending you a brief smile. “Hello, y/n. I miss you. Why don’t you come to training?”

“You know why.”

“No. I don’t.” She leant on the counter beside Wanda and watched you, an amused smile playing around her mouth. “You’re the one who walked off.”

You grabbed Natasha’s arm and pulled her from the room.

“Hey!” Wanda called out, a bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. “What about these eggs?”

“They’ll keep until I return!” you called back.

***

“You’re not an easy person to talk to nowadays,” Natasha remarked.

You unlocked your room and pushed her inside, shutting the door behind you. She looked around, intrigued to see what your room looked like without the stacks and stacks of papers. Spotting a photo of you and her on the wall, she stepped towards it.

“Leave that alone,” you said quietly.

“I’ve made you angry.”

“You didn’t have to accuse me of being a horrible person in front of Wanda. I’m not that bad, I’m just busy. I keep making time for you and then either you don’t show or you’re off on a mission.”

“First time I’m hearing about it.”

“In my head, Nat. I keep making time for you in my head,” you said impatiently.

“Why not ask me in person?”

“Because,” you whispered, and suddenly Natasha understood.

“Because you’re afraid I’ll reject you,” she said quietly. “You regret what you said all those months ago.”

“Of course I regret it!” you burst out. “I wish I’d stuck around and listened to what you were going to say but I missed my chance.”

“Not from where I’m standing.” She looked at you. “My heart belongs to you, y/n, whether Banner’s around or not.”

“But you’d pick him. For appearance’s sake, for the good of the Avengers, for the good of publicity… you’d pick him.”

“I have seen so much. So much of the world, of what it can give you but also what it can take away.” Natasha pointed at the photo of the two of you. “That was the first time I saw myself like that. Happier. Carefree. With no weight on my shoulders.” She stared at you. “I want that back, y/n, but you’re the only person who can give it to me.”

“Give… I have nothing to give you, Nat.”

“Love,” she burst out. “You have love to give me.”

“You’re making it really hard to say no,” you whispered, a smile creeping onto your face. “All I want is to say no, but you’re making that very hard right now.”

“I’m going to keep talking until you say yes,” she whispered. She sat down on the edge of your bed and watched you carefully.

Then she began to talk about her upbringing, her favourite book. The fact that she still read that book even now because it comforted her. About leaving Russia and the heartache that had caused. About meeting Clint’s family for the first time and being called ‘Aunty Nat’ and realizing life wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it was.

Then she started talking about you. The first time she’d met you and realised she was falling. The Christmas you’d gone ice skating together and you’d burst out laughing as you fell over. The way you made her feel inside. How she knew she could be herself with no fear of rejection.

“Natasha.” You reached out, placing a finger on her lips. She kissed your finger, making you smile. “Okay. I’ll try something with you.”

“You will?” Her smile was big and happy and you couldn’t help but smile back, taking in the green eyes that were staring so intently into yours.

“Yes.” You leant forwards and kissed her softly. “I will.”

“Now,” she murmured against your lips, “about the name of that source…”

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova!”

[wishchip106]

Hi so I watch avengers age of ultron again and thought , what if peter from x men had the mcu backstory how would the xmen react especially charles and Erik but more specifically erik

backstory as in he was held captive and then briefly worked for hydra or backstory as in he was shot?

because in either of those scenarios i think Erik would be very upset

and rightfully so because A his son was held prisoner with Wanda and tortured and experimented on by humans and B Pietro died saving a human

not really helping the humans get on Erik’s good side… not that they ever will 😒

but i think the x-men would hold a funeral for him at the mansion

and if Erik was at the mansion maybe Wanda would come stay with him and Charles

maybe Erik would try and seek justice for Pietro and hunt down the avengers or something 😭 bring down the tower with his powers… dramatic ass man…