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#yelenas sexuality
critter-of-habit · 1 year
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"Oh, it's Kate, Kate Bishop. You probably know my mom, she got arrested last Christmas, it was a whole thing." "KATE. Stop. Talking."
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multifandominfj · 3 days
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This baby is an AroAce Lesbian. Yes that is possible, you small minded people who continue to say she’s NOT AroAce.
Seems to me you don’t understand the complexity of sexuality.
I will not be explaining anything further.
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redraven25-stuff · 3 days
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YELENA IN THUNDERBOLTS IS GOING TO MAKE ME QUESTION MY SEXUALITY OH MY GODS
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its-white-wolf · 2 years
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Reminder to Marvel fans that Yelena is canonically aroace!!
Please stop shipping her with other characters, we already get so little representation and there's so many other ships you get get attatched to, just please leave Yelena out of it
Sincerely, a tired aroace guy
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bullsandthebones · 2 years
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in the middle of writing but something came to mind.
you guys do know that Yelena is canonically aroace, right? therefore writing romantic/sexual fics with her is really disrespectful, right?
I've noticed that canon gay and lesbian characters get ignored and so do canon ace/aroace characters. if a character is canonically a certain sexuality, if it's stated multiple times that they are canonically what they are, then we have no right to make fics stating otherwise.
now, I know that fics are meant to be indulgent, but a lot of the lgbtq+ don't get enough representation, especially the aroace community. to blatantly ignore such a thing is quite hateful.
I know I've been doing rants a lot, but the fanfic community is a headache and I'm attempting to throw some common sense their way.
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marvelfilth · 6 months
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Family dinner
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova, platonic!Kate Bishop x f!reader
Warnings: a very poor attempt at humour
Summary: your best friend Kate needs backup after a mishap with Yelena's family
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“I need you here yesterday!”
“What?” You whisper-shout, looking around the office to make sure no one noticed you ducking away to take a call from your best friend.
“Please, I'm desperate! I can't do this alone, they're like sharks and I just spilled blood!”
“Kate, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Yelena's family! They're scary as shit on a good day, but now we messed up real bad, and I think they're gonna decapitate me,” she whines.
“Okay, let's backtrack. What did you do?”
“...”
“Kate?”
There's shuffling on the other side, a deep sigh and then, “Melina found the handcuffs. With the fur. They were still attached to the bed.”
You snort, loud enough to attract annoyed looks from your coworkers. “Happens to the best of-”
“And the whip. It was on the bed too.”
You chortle, this time not caring about your surroundings, and swiftly move further down the hall. “She knows Yelena's a big girl, she can ha-”
“Natasha was there too!”
You stop in your tracks. Now that's interesting.
“She'll never let you forget it,” you say with all the confidence you have, even though you've never met the woman before. You know just enough from what Kate and Yelena told you to be sure of that.
“She's not letting me forget it now! She got all sneaky and secretive, whispering with Melina and looking at me, and now I'm on my way to a family dinner. A family dinner with my girlfriend's family, while said girlfriend got called away on some emergency mission,” she huffs angrily.
“There's no emergency mission, is there?”
“There better be!”
You chuckle, shaking your head. It's never a boring day with Kate Bishop.
“So,” she starts, aiming for a nonchalant tone, “I'm downstairs.”
“What?”
“Yep. Waiting for you at the front. Better hurry, parking is expensive as hell.”
“Kate.”
“I'm your bestie. And my girlfriend's mom found the handcuffs. I need you.”
You check the time, noting that the workday is nowhere near it's end. With a sigh, you head for the elevator, not even bothering to come back for your bag.
“I love you.”
“I haven't agreed to-”
“I know what that sigh means!”
You groan. “Yeah, yeah. You owe me.”
×××
Turns out, Yelena's family is even scarier then you imagined.
“So, Y/n,” Melina starts, looking at you like you're one of her lab rats, “Do you usually leave your… sexual… stuff after you're done?”
You turn red, choking on the wine. Kate sends you a look of pity.
Natasha smirks.
“I don't… I'm not sure- Um. Well, no.”
Melina hums, nodding to herself. “Good.”
She digs into her food, and you exhale in relief, feeling like the worst part is over.
“So where do you keep your stuff, Y/n?” Natasha asks over the rim of her glass, her eyes full of mischief.
Kate slides lower in her seat, boring holes into her fork.
Melina perks up, once again regarding you like one of her subjects. “I would also like to know. To pass the advice to my daughter and her girlfriend.”
You gulp.
“Well?” Natasha prompts.
You shudder from the intensity of the look she's giving you.
“Can we move on?” Kate whispers, looking around nervously.
“Yes, of course,” Melina nods, her eyes lighting up like she was waiting for a subject change.
Natasha sends Kate an amused smile, and you relax slightly. Now the worst part is over, you're sure.
“So, Y/n-”
Fuck.
“-are you single?”
You nod, shoving a forkful of some meat salad - which mostly consists of mayonnaise - to avoid talking.
“And you're gay, correct?” Melina asks, peering into your very soul.
You nod again, chewing fast.
“Why are you gay?”
You choke on a piece of potato, wheezing and reaching for a glass of water. Kate almost falls of her chair in haste to smack you on the back. Natasha just looks at her mother, unimpressed. “Really?”
“What?” Melina shrugs. “I'm a scientist, I'm conducting research.”
The redhead groans, rubbing her eyes. “Of course.”
You feel a little better now that Natasha is annoyed.
Melina still looks at you, expecting an answer.
You sigh, “Are you gay?”
She blinks, looking like an owl. Natasha chokes on a laugh, sending you a look of appreciation. Kate mutters something about bathroom and darts out of the room, hopefully to call Yelena and fix all this mess.
“Well,” Melina starts, deep in thought. “I suppose I've never given it much of a thought.”
You nod, feeling accomplished in swaying attention from yourself.
“Natasha.” The older woman turns abruptly. “You are gay.”
The redhead groans, sliding down in her seat. “Mother, please.”
“She's gay, and you're gay. You're both miserably single.”
“Huh?” You frown, affronted.
“Fuck my life,” Natasha mumbles into the table, her face pressed tight against it in a feeble effort of disappearing.
“Yelena's on her way!” Kate walks back into the room, triumphant.
“Finally,” you sigh, pointedly looking at the ceiling to avoid Melina's penetrative gaze. “Where's she, by the way?”
“Hiding, probably,” Natasha snorts, shaking her head. “Escaped the scene of crime and left her girlfriend to pick up the mess.” She raises her glass in Kate's general direction, “You're doing good so far, Bishop. Even brought reinforcement - good thinking.”
“Yes-yes,” Melina nods, her eyes darting between you three. “Yelena's a bit of a coward in that regard, but we have an important matter to discuss.”
Natasha glares at her mother. “No, we don-”
“Natasha can cook. Well, she can microwave.”
“What did I miss?” Kate frowns, settling back into her seat. “Actually, no. I don't want to know.”
“As I was saying,” Melina clears her throat, paying no mind to the murderous look Natasha sends her. You'd feel gleeful at that - Natasha's plan came back to bite her in the ass - if you weren't the other victim in this scenario. “Natasha can cook. She's excellent with knives. She's an excellent shot. She can dismantle a bomb in a matter of seconds. She's a… a catch.”
You smile at the miserable expression on Natasha's face, her cheeks dusted with pink.
“Oh…” Kate whispers, looking at you from the corner of her eye. “Well, actually, Y/n is-” she yelps loudly when your heel connects with her toes, and turns bright red at the shooting pain. “-a bitch. She's a bitch.”
The look in Melina's eyes turns gleeful. “That was excellent.”
Fucking hell, no matter what you do, your grave turns deeper and deeper.
Natasha snorts, chugging her wine like it's water. Melina's mouth opens again, and you say a stupid thing to save yourself from further embarrassment.
“Can we go back to Kate's handcuffs, please,” you mutter with a sigh.
The look of betrayal your friend sends you doesn't work the way she intended, because you don't feel guilty at all.
Melina's mouth snaps shut, her eyes widening. The sight alone tells you you said the wrong thing.
“Have you and Kate ever-”
“No!” you both shout, before the older woman can finish the question.
“Sounds defensive,” Natasha chuckles, reaching for the bottle of vodka.
“Wha- What?” You hiss, glaring at the spy.
“She's- Y/n’s not even my type! And I'm not her type either!” Kate splutters.
“Mhm,” Natasha hums, “that I can see.”
You gape, not sure if you're supposed to be offended. “What?”
Natasha smirks, planting her chin on her fist. “You need a firm hand. Your best friend is anything, but firm.”
Her eyes trail down your body, pupils darkening ever so slightly. Your cheeks burn and, suddenly, it's hard to breathe. You clear your throat and gulp down the last of your wine, carefully avoiding her gaze.
“O-okay. That's- okay, yep,” Kate mutters to herself. “Fuck my life.”
“Am I wrong?” Natasha husks, reaching across the table to play with the golden bracelet on your wrist.
Really, right in front of her mother?
The front door opens with a loud bang, and you jump up, relieved to see Yelena. The feeling doesn't last long, because a second later you notice the bleeding wound on her torso.
“So that was an actual mission,” you mumble, missing the way Natasha snorts in your haste to get Yelena to the couch.
Kate looks pale, but swiftly starts helping Yelena undress. Melina's ready with the first aid kid by the time they finally tear off the shirt.
“So?” Natasha whispers into your ear, sending goosebumps down your skin. “Am I wrong?”
Apparently, not even her bleeding sister can stop her.
“No,” you reply, “you're not wrong.”
She hums, satisfied. “I am miserably single, you know?"
You let out a loud laugh, not even bothering to quiet down when Yelena sends you a murderous look.
“I am miserably single, too.”
She smiles, nodding to herself.
“Want to fix that?” She asks after a bit, her eyes glinting in the soft evening light.
“They'll never shut up about it,” you groan, stepping closer to her.
“Yeah,” she hums, her grin stretching wider. “So?”
"A little help?" Yelena wheezes, glaring daggers at the two of you. "Hello? Your sister is dying."
“Yes,” you reply, not taking your eyes away from her green pools.
“Perfect,” she breathes, before pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I'll pick you up tomorrow at six.”
"Fucking unbelievable," Yelena mutters and yelps when Melina shushes her with a pinch and a hissed "don't ruin my hard work".
Kate just looks like she's about to faint.
You grin. "I can't wait."
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outoftheseine · 2 years
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- JOEL MILLER FIC RECS -
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(most of these fics are age-gap romance. some fics have mature content (+18) so minors please respect the authors and do not interact). also please beware of the canon trigger warnings (violence, language, guns, death, blood etc.))
part 2 | main masterlist
SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS
one thing i am missing • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @joelscruff (fluff, smut)
to do the right thing • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @pedgeitopascal (very angsty, tw: abortion and ppd, childbirth)
if the door wasn't shut • joel miller x platonic!reader
↳ by @heartpascal (very angsty)
joel miller x feral!fem!reader
↳ by @ohraicodoll (angst, lots of blood, sometimes gore, reader has a given nickname, smut)
if he wanted to • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @sl-ut (angsty, tw: mentions of suicide and sa, drug use)
twenty years later • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @yelena-bellova (angst)
weakness • joel miller x fem!reader part two
↳ by @pedgeitopascal (fluff, little angst, smut)
the stable girl • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @guess-my-next-obsession (mature, angst, fluff)
friendly fire • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (angst, smut)
uneven odds • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @theetherealbloom (angst, fluff, smut, anxiety)
burning in a hopeless dream • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @tightjeansjavi (angst, implied smut)
ONE-SHOTS/BLURBS
from love and life • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @bubbles-for-all-of-us (child birth, fluff)
adjustments • joel miller x fem!teacher!reader
by @softlyspector (fluff, smut, mentions of dead loved ones, tw: mentions of suicide)
kiss it better • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @morningbluebell (mostly fluff)
why can't i breathe? • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @oliviajdjarin (fluff, flustered joel)
no time to die • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @davosmymaster (very angsty, hurt/comfort, chef's kiss, so good)
she's a gun • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @cowgurrrl (fluff)
darlin' • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @charnelhouse (angst, tw: sexual assault and mentions of suicide, smut, hurt/comfort)
alone and foresaken • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @chelseasdagger (smut, very good smut actually)
once again in your arms • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @foli-vora (angst, tw: loss of a child, fluff)
too late • joel miller x reader
↳ by @alloftheimagines (angst, injuries, hurt/comfort)
don't let me drown • joel miller x reader
↳ by @alloftheimagines (angst, hurt/comfort, tw: drowning, some nudity but nothing explicit)
nightmares • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @youlightmeupfinn (tw: panic attacks, nightmare, hurt/comfort)
saving • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @youlightmeupfinn (angst, hurt/comfort, joel being an asshole)
a house in nebraska • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @highdramas (angsty, heavy feeling of nostalgia, mentions of sexual interactions)
spring breeze • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @thedgeoftheuniverse (fluff, hurt/comfort)
for you, anything • joel miller x reader
↳ by @mellowsaturns (fluff, sick!reader, domesticty)
perfectly wrong • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @psychedelic-ink (enemies to lovers, smut)
domesticty looks good on you • joel miller x reader
↳ by @girlscull (sooo fluffy)
ghosts of his past • joel miller x reader
↳ by @lol-im-done (very angsty, made me cry)
soft touches • joel miller x reader
↳ by @theeoriginals (fluff, hurt/comfort)
close call • joel miller x reader
↳ by @rogueonestan (hurt/comfort, angst)
first kill • joel miller x reader
↳ by @alloftheimagines (angst, hurt/comfort)
illusory light • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @lavendertales (angst, injuries, fluff)
playing house • joel miller x reader
↳ by @me-and-your-husband (some angst, smut)
try to love me, honey please • joel miller x reader
↳ by @peterhollandkait (hurt/comfort, angst, sad and soft joel, mentions of blood and death)
confused warmth • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @rise-my-angel (angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut)
soft spot • joel miller x gn!reader
↳ by @orangevtae (very fluffy, some hurt/comfort, sunshine x grumpy)
love in the time of cordyceps • joel millet x fem! reader
↳ by @sameheart-sameblood (angst, fluff, mentions of blood)
one bed • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @frannyzooey (good old one bed trope, explicit)
sleeping bag • joel miller x reader
↳ by @quin-ns (very fluffy)
lavender haze • joel miller x pregnant!fem!reader
↳ by @forever-rogue (soo fluffy, made my heart flutter)
intent • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @forever-rogue (angst, joel is an asshole, fluff)
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afterthatidontknow · 6 months
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—𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚, 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩—
pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader
summary . you both knew you would never be able to be together — so you had to take the shot, even if it would be the only and one time.
warnings . smut! I am not responsible for your content consumption! bottom! Natasha, soft sex, praise kink (?), cunninglingus, face riding, fingering, multiple orgasms, forbidden love, Red Room trope in general, non graphic violence, implied sexual harassment (Dreykov), cursing, angst.
notes . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so I apologize for any spelling errors. feel free to leave any advice though!
disclaimer: they're both 18, before the graduation ceremony.
highschool sweethearts thing because I'm a simp for it. ^^
divider credits: @benkeibear
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"Love is for children." they'd say, "love is a weakness." so how the hell did you manage? Natasha wondered, how did you kept the facade, even with all the things that happened between you, in secrecy from the rest of the widows — from Madam B, and from General Dreykov?
Because even her, one of their best widows, was starting to lose it.
Ever since the beggining, you were the most ruthless, emotionless, cruel widow they had. You couldn't remember your life before the Red Room, because it never existed. They took you from your parents when you were 2, and your training started by the age of 4.
You could swear you were born like that — cursed, without a heart. You never cared for anyone, for anything. Your only task was rob, torture, kill. Because the apple doensn't fall far away from the tree.
But somehow, that girl still managed to change you.
When Madam B put the redhead as your opponent, was when your whole perspective of life, of being, changed. God, you hated her. She had everything you ever wished to have — the longing for a family, the care for people, the gentleness. That showed whenever you went on a mission together — it wasn't a part of her characters, it was herself. When she spoke to you about Yelena and how she tried to protect her, when she took you to the dark warehouse to take care of your bruises.. especially when she insisted on covering your ears and mumbling a russian lullaby to muffle the sounds of the other girls screams in the night.
She taught you what love was. And that made you want to kill her. To kiss her. To tear her apart. To make her scream, and not from pain.
Dreykov always made it clear that romance, or even the slightest display of affection would result in severe punishment, or worse, execution. That was because he knew that the widows would never be able to find a partner outside his walls, so finding that need between each other was the only way out.
Yet, Natasha and you had an advantage point — you were the best of the best, the most talented widows. So first: he wouldn't suspect anything, and second: he couldn't kill his best agents. It would be his loss.
That's how she became your little secret. You were an hell of an expert, because you never let your feelings get in your job. Neither did Natasha, but it still shocked her.
It started with a simple peck on the lips by the age of 13, in the farris wheel of the amusement park you were undercover. Your cart was the one on the top, where you could see all the atractions from, and no one could see you. You tried to convince yourself it was just teenage curiosity, but it still led to that.
The hotel room of Belgium, Brussels.
You never knew the simple mission on breaking in a bank was gonna lead to that.
Natasha did everything in a rush, knowing that you could do it smoothly, but just to be able to spend a little more time with you. Like now.
You sighed deeply, leaning against the sink's counter and looking at your reflexion in the mirror. The cut on your forehead was stinging a little, but you decided not to pay attention. The redhead walked in the bathroom, just not expecting to see you only in a black lace bra and the black tights of the vest. You heard the click of the door, but showed little emotion. "Hey, Red."
"Oh, Y/n..." she whispered, her eyes searching for yours, wanting to know if you wanted her to leave. You gave her a shake of your head and a small smile. She walked through the door with a soft exhale. "I already settled the guns and all the weapons. I also wrote the reports, in case you're wondering."
"You spoil me too much," you smirked tiredly. "You do all of that just to have me a little more, don't you?"
Your joke made her look down a little. "Yes," she whispers.
"You do?" you raised an eyebrow, not expecting her to affirm. "Well.. we still have 5 hours before they retreat us, so.."
"Your forehead," Natasha cuts you off, frowning in concern, rushing to check on you. Her hands went to hold your shoulders as she studied the cut — she only realized your lips parted and your gaze at her when she felt the straps of the bra beneath her hands.
"It's fine," you whispered, clearing your throat. Natasha looked away for a brief second, before looking into your eyes again.
"It's not, let me patch you up—"
You shook your head, placing your hands on her waist and leaning in, shutting her up with a long, gentle kiss. You pulled away and met Natasha's dreamy gaze, her eyes a little disoriented.
"Y/n..." the redhead mumbled, her eyes fluttering close and her head dropping to your shoulder, as she sighed.
"God, the way you look out for me makes me so weak." you chuckled, your palm rubbing her back, fingernails grazing her skin. "You know you don't have to do that. I can take care of myself just fine."
"I don't care," she said, lifting her head again to get herself lost in your eyes once more.
The graduation ceremony was coming soon, and you couldn't care less about that — but with her, it was different. You both knew what the ceremony actually meant, and Natasha was scared. She didn't want her dignity off her. And not knowing how to deal with this, she just wanted to protect you, in a way to comfort herself, her heart.
"It's gonna be okay, Natalia," you smile, planting a little kiss on the tip of her nose. "It's not gonna be the first surgery they perform on us. Besides, I'm gonna be with you as soon as you're back on the dormitory, okay?"
"It's just," Natasha gulped, her arms wrapping around herself. She was thinking far, of the future. "Who's gonna want a woman who can't even do the basics? Who's gonna want a woman who can't give birth to a baby?"
"Me." you simply said, placing your hand on her cheek, Nat immediately leaning into the touch. "I will. Because when we're out, we're getting married." you giggled. "Wasn't that our promise 4 years ago, when we were 14?"
Natasha's eyes snapped back to you. It was clear she didn't want to think of that as a joke — she had to show you how much she felt for you. And she wanted- needed you to reciprocate her. So she completely forgot of all the damn rules. She grabbed the back of your neck, and unintentionally pushed you up against the wall, kissing you with urgency.
Your eyes widened in surprise, but fluttered close again as the shock vanished. Your hands went to hold her waist again, tightening as you felt her press herself against you.
"Nat..." you whispered against her lips, breaking the kiss. She looked at you, her lips grazing yours again, your noses brushing.
"It's our only chance," she whines. "We were pleasure toys for men since we were little, can't we have something real for once? Before everything falls apart?"
Your breathing hitches as she says that. You let your eyes close, guiding her backwards and outside the bathroom, towards the bed.
"It's forbidden, but who the fuck cares? Who knows if we're not getting killed someday, or if Dreykov send us to different bases and we never see each other again?"
"Natalia," you shake your head, shakily breathing. "Everything I've done, everything I did was for one reason — having you by my side."
Natasha whimpered, sitting you down on the bed and standing between your legs. "Y/n, I want to see you."
"Then do it." you replied with no hesitance. "you're the only one who I'd consent to, Natalia."
At this point, you swore you forgot everything else than how she slowly unattached the hostler from your hips, pulling the tights and panties down and breathing rapidly by the sight of you semi-naked in front of her. Before she could do anything else, you stood up, hand moving to zip down the tight suit they made you wear. Natasha whined, leaning herself into your hands.
"So impatient," you whispered, finishing with the zipper and removing the fabric of her body, taking your time to do so. She held your shoulders and let you slip it down her legs — along with her panties, which she wasn't expecting. Natasha gasped quietly as the air hit her core, making you smile softly and stand up again.
"Darling," you cooed, hands moving to her back as your face found shelter on her neck, gently nibbling and kissing there. "you're so pretty it hurts,"
"Y/n," the redhead almost moaned, tilting her head back to grant you more access. She felt the straps of her bra slide down her shoulders and bit her lip as her breasts were freed, the lack of the tight clothing giving both of you an immense relief. In a moment, your lace lingerie was gone too.
"You're so gorgeous..." you whispered in her ear, your fingers tracing all the scars on her body, which you were sure you already had memorized. "And you are mine."
"Yes," she nodded, wrapping her arms around your waist. The skin on skin contact from someone she actually trusted felt too good, too much. "Yes, yes I'm yours."
Natasha then gently sat you down again on the edge of the bed, taking your breath away as she kneeled down in front of you, her hands gently pushing your knees apart and holding them open like this.
"God," she whimpered, leaning her face to slowly press kisses on your inner thighs, your back arching a little with the contact.
You took a moment to look at her dreamily, your slender fingers going to tangle in her red hair and play with it softly. "Lyubovmoya, (my love,)"
Natasha swore she could cry now, from the intense emotions building up within her. She couldn't wait anymore. So she did just that — diving into you, her mouth finding your pussy, her tongue inside you, tasting you, savouring the sweetness reserved only for her.
"Fuck, malyshka, (baby,)" you moaned, the sensation of being filled by someone who wouldn't harm you almost sending you over the edge already. "Yes, just like that,"
Natasha whimpered softly, licking the juices that were already spilling out of you, her tongue moving in circular motions against your clit.
"Nat," your head tilted back, hips bucking against her face as your climax approached. "I'm coming, Nat, I—"
She moaned against your folds as you came, licking all of your arousal, her tongue fucking you through your orgasm. After a while, she pulled her head back and looked up at your face.
"You're so fucking beautiful between my legs like that." you murmured breathlessly, smiling in bliss. Natasha blushed, you could tell she really liked your praises. "Are you really ready for more?"
"This is such a bad idea," she lifted herself from between your legs and smiled weakly, straddling your thigh again and gently pushing your back against the bed. "But the best we'd ever have."
You giggled, crawling further back the bed and laying your head on the pillow, your hands pulling her on top of you. Natasha thought of everything but that.
"Y/n," she bit her lip, getting a little shy. "I don't wanna hurt you."
"Don't be a hypocrite." you smirked softly. It wasn't going to be the first time she had suffocated you with her thighs, one of her combat skills. "Let me taste you too."
Natasha carefully placed her hands on the headboard, lifting herself up and lowering her thighs around your head, so hesitant. You gently squeezed her flesh and pulled her flush against your face, making her gasp a little in surprise. In a second, she felt your tongue inside her. So that's how it felt.
"Oh my," she whimpered, closing her eyes tightly, as she slowly started to grind herself against you.
You moved your hands up her thighs, to her hip bone, running your fingers across the bullet scar she had there. There was no doubt that, of all the Red Room academy, Natasha was the one who most took the harshness from Dreykov — sometimes for punishment, for the so called reward for being a good widow, or even to protect you. So she deserved all the sweetness and care she could get, for once in her life.
"More.." she breathed, her eyes looking down at yours — not expecting you to be so skilled, looking closely at her as your mouth worked on her. Your eyes smiled at her, and she felt it.
"Such a good girl," you whisper, sending vibrations all over her body. You then inserted two fingers inside her, carefully laying her down on the bed and hovering your lips against hers. Not kissing her, yet. "As soon as we get out of here, I'll marry you. And I'll scream to the world that you're mine."
"Y/n," she cried, feeling a warm tear roll down her cheek — not knowing if it was the pleasure only, but also her emotions.
"I feel so lucky," you smiled, so softly, lips brushing against her cheek as you spoke. She giggled, her arms circling your neck. Natasha moaned as she felt your fingers brushing continuously against her g-spot, as if you knew her better than herself, and you did. "I would give the world to have you in my arms, and I have it, and I'll never let you go."
"Say that again." the redhead begged, bucking her hips against your hand.
"I'll never, ever let you go." you repeated, feeling her legs starting to shake. "Even if I have to die for that."
"If I die..." she whispered, and suddenly, a wave of arousal washed over her, and she threw her head back, her cum all over your fingers. You gently fucked her through her orgasm, and then licked your fingers.
Nat gripped your back, her fingers digging into your skin. You rolled over the bed and pulled her on top of you. She looked like a baby now, so innocent, so precious. She clinged to you, wanting more of your safety, of your love.
Yes, love. And it didn't matter if she was considered a child now.
"I-if I die," she continued, her voice so so small. Your fingers ran through her hair, through her red locks. "At least I had one good thing in my life. You. You're the only fucking good thing I ever had, Y/n. And I'll take you in my memories forever and ever."
"I love you, Natalia." you said with conviction. "I'll love you in my every reincarnation, in my every life."
That's when you heard a loud bang in the door. The tracker, the wire.
"Goodbye, princess." you held her tighter, as she buried her face on your neck.
"See you soon."
Everything went black. Two widows terminated. Two shots fired.
Dreykov would have to train two other girls to replace you, and it wouldn't be easy.
At least you were free now. And had to hope you'd be married with two kids and a picket fence for the next time.
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722 notes · View notes
missmonsters2 · 1 year
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Mirror, Mirror | Two
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Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.
PART ONE
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Wanda oscillates between crying and being overcome with confidence to confess. She barely has time to reflect when the devastating news arrives that you have a date, and Wanda needs to formulate a plan—quickly.
Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.
*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*
Note: cue the shenanigans of date stalking and taylor swift. Put your hands together for the real MVP of this chapter: Yelena.
Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘
Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3
Count: ~4.5k
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
This week's philosophical question is: Is it gay to think about your best friend?
The short answer is no. The long, complicated answer is that it might be. 
There's logic and reasoning behind this because don't most people think about their best friend? Don't most people plan to have their best friend in the future? If not, then why would they be best friends in the first place?
Sadly, there's a rude awakening in Wanda's wobbly defense. Natasha is the only person to blame for blowing down her defense made of straw when Wanda chats with her on the phone in the evening while you're out for a photoshoot. 
"How's Maria doing?" Wanda asks.
"Good," Natasha answers, and Wanda can hear the tap water running and realizes the redhead is doing the dishes. "She'll be coming to visit during Christmas."
"Oh, you must be very excited!" Wanda beams. If it were her, she'd be ecstatic to be seeing you after so long. 
"Yeah, it'll be good to see her. I think she's bringing her girlfriend, Sharon. They've been seeing each other for a few months, and she doesn't have anyone to spend Christmas with since her grand-aunt passed away.
"Oh," Wanda's voice is low, brows furrowing. "That seems very fast if she's coming to spend a holiday with Maria. How do you feel about it?"
Natasha hums. "Happy, I guess? I haven't met Sharon, but I've been hearing good things about her. She's able to keep up with Maria's busy life as she's got her own, but they make time for each other."
"But what if Sharon's wrong for Maria, or Maria ends up getting hurt."
"Then I'll break Sharon's legs, but Maria's a big girl. I'll be there for her, but she'll be okay," Natasha chuckles.
"But—"
"Wanda, what's with the questions about Maria?" Natasha cuts off. "Is it something with Bug? Are you worried about Raye? She's told me they haven't even gone on a first date yet; why are you so worried?"
"It's not about that!" Wanda said defensively. "I mean—I am worried, but I just don't want her getting hurt. She's my best friend; she deserves someone perfect. Don't you want someone perfect for Maria?"
Even as the words came out of Wanda's mouth, she grimaced because she was nowhere near perfect herself. 
"Of course I do," Natasha sighs. "But unless Maria is hurting, I'm not going to get overly involved with her love life. She'll go at her own pace and update me as she goes."
"But how will you know if Maria is going to continue living away? If she gets serious with Sharon, will Maria still plan to move back here? How will you guys plan on having a wedding at the same time and picking a house in the same neighborhood?" Wanda asks seriously. Her tone is distraught because it feels like Natasha doesn't care about her best friend at all! 
There's a moment of silence on the other line before Natasha says, "We don't plan for that. I mean, I'll be bummed for sure if Maria doesn't move back but we'll always be best friends. We'll visit each other and keep in contact as often as we need, but we don't need to physically be in the same place."
And another realization slides into place. 
"How are you guys best friends?!" Wanda yells into the phone before she hangs up without another word. 
Wanda knows that she'll have to call Natasha later and apologize and say she's on her period or something, but right now, with her eyes hot and wet, she digs her face into her pillow and cries instead.
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"Hey, I need to head out for another shoot today. Do you want me to pick up anything for you?"
Your voice muffles through Wanda's closed door. You've come in a few times, but Wanda had stayed in bed and pretended that she might've been under the weather. 
"No," Wanda says loud enough so you can hear it. "Have fun, though."
"I'll be home soon and make you some paprikash, but there's some chicken soup in the fridge for you if you want some while I'm gone," you reply. Wanda momentarily hears your hand land on the doorknob, but you don't turn it and come in. "Feel better, brat."
You don't wait for Wanda's response even though it is a quiet, "Thanks, stinky."
Alone in the apartment once more, Wanda sighs. She's been all over the place emotionally since she last talked to Natasha on the phone. She later sent a voice memo through text apologizing and said her period just came, which explained all the craziness. Luckily, Natasha was kind enough to leave it be, but they haven't chatted much since then—mostly on Wanda's end. 
Wanda's been caught between wanting to spend more time with you and distancing herself while sorting through her feelings. It was so easy at that moment to leave Vision and feel intense jealousy of Raye, but now in their own little bubble, everything was unraveling like a poorly wrapped present. 
The only saving grace was that you and Raye couldn't align your schedules to go on a date anytime soon. Raye was out of state currently and was supposed to be traveling for work for the next few weeks, and you were confirming projects that were supposed to be for the entire month. 
The extra time was sorely appreciated. 
In short, Wanda has cried 8 times in the last week while equally getting the inspiration almost to confess 7 times. 
There was a nagging fear, though. What if you didn't feel the same? What if Wanda was reading this one gigantic sign wrong, and you simply just liked brunettes with green eyes?
Or, what if you did feel the same and things didn't work out? What if the two of you date, and it goes wonderfully well before it ends? It doesn't matter what causes the end; just what if it did?
In either scenario, things would never be the same, and Wanda would lose her best friend of 10 years. 
Although, Wanda reasons that even if she confessed and you didn't feel the same, she wouldn't actually lose you. Sure, things would never be quite the same, but the friendship would continue. They've endured much worse, and Wanda would probably get over her feelings. 
Probably. 
Because if she didn't, well, Wanda wouldn't know what to do. She's lived too long of her life with you; she can't think of what it'd be like without you. Logically, she knew she'd survive, but there'd always be a part of her missing. 
Sometimes, Wanda thinks there was always a part of her missing until the day she met you. She can still remember 10 years ago like it was yesterday.
"Wanda, it'll be fine," Pietro's accent was thick and heavy, and Wanda refused to say anything out loud to acknowledge it. 
The girls in her class were already making fun of her accent, and her attempts to talk to them were rebuffed with looks as if they couldn't believe she dared to speak to them. 
It was too difficult, Wanda thought. It was too difficult to make friends when she transferred here mid-year, and everyone had already formed their cliques since elementary.
It was hard enough with the growing changes in her 14-year-old body, and she already felt awkward all the time—the giggling behind her back and to her face wasn't helping. 
Wanda wanted to go back home to Sokovia, except there was nothing left to return to. The war had reduced everything to shambles, and everyone else in her family was happy to have been able to seek refuge in America—Rochester, specifically. 
Wanda knew she should be grateful, especially since many of her aunts, uncles, cousins, and other extended family couldn't escape. She never really had too many friends, but the few she did went to Canada, and she knew she'd unlikely ever talk to them again. 
It was a lot of change, and Pietro was the only person who understood her at this new school, but even he couldn't do much since they shared no classes together. Plus, Pietro had still managed to make a friend, and Wanda didn't have the heart to make him sit with her at lunch every day. 
"Do you want me to eat lunch with you? I can ask Sam to sit with us," Pietro offered, but Wanda shook her head. 
"Are you sure?" Pietro asked again, preparing to sit with Wanda anyway, but Wanda shook her head.
"No, it's fine. I'm just going to eat my lunch quick and head to the library to catch up on some assignments," Wanda mumbled quietly, waiting for some girls in her class to pass by before she said it. 
"Okay," Pietro said, sighing since he was conflicted about staying with his sister or heading off to hang out with his friend. But at Wanda's insistence, he merely told her where she could find him if there was anything and took off with one last glance.
When Pietro was fully out of sight, Wanda took a seat alone at an empty table, pulling out her lunch reluctantly. She was quick to notice that the American kids typically brought a plain sandwich or bought food from the cafeteria, which usually consisted of the same foods like pizza or mac and cheese. 
While the comments about the food she brought were also embarrassing, Wanda didn't have it in her to ask her mother to make something else. Money was tight, and asking to add other things to the grocery list just so she could fit in didn't seem worth it when it wouldn't do anything about the fact no one wanted to talk to her. 
So, Wanda pulled out the finomfőzelék with her breaded chicken breast. She still didn't open it and let her containers sit on the table. 
Wanda wasn't quite sure what was causing it. Maybe it was just this specific instance of sitting alone, or maybe it was the last week and a half of enduring this, but Wanda felt her eyes burn and water. She willed it with everything she had inside to not let it fall and took a deep breath. 
"Hi."
The sudden sound made Wanda's head snap up, eyes wide with surprise. You stood there, and Wanda sort of recognized you from her classes. She thought she shared all but one with you. You've never contributed to the bullying but never stopped it or talked to her, either. 
Wanda vaguely recalled you've been sick with a cold the last few days. Her eyes shifted to look behind you, and she could see your friends looking very confused and beckoning you to come back to their lunch table.
"Hi," Wanda quietly greeted you back, wincing at how the accent could even come out with one syllable. 
You sat down suddenly, clearing your throat. "Can I ask you something?"
"Okay," Wanda replied warily. 
"Do you practice witchcraft?"
The question stumped Wanda.
"What?" 
"Do you practice witchcraft?" You repeated, looking serious. 
"No," Wanda frowned, so perplexed that she couldn't even be upset about her accent. "I don't. Why would you think that?"
"Well, Hela has been spreading rumors that you're a witch from Sokovia, and that's why Mr. Coulson passed away suddenly when you came."
Then, it's suddenly so clear why no one has been talking to her. 
"But if you're not a witch cursing people to death, then that's cool," you said, interrupting Wanda's thoughts. "I wanted to ask you that earlier but then I got sick for a few days. So, do you want to hang out with me?"
Wanda just stared at you, her heart racing because finally, finally, she was going to have a friend. "Yes," Wanda replied quickly, smiling. "That'd be...cool," she repeated your slang. 
"Cool," you smiled back before pointing at her food. "Noticed you bring different food every other day. Can I try some? I'll trade you some of my sandwich. Heads up, though, my mom has been experimenting with food. This week was Chinese food, so beef and broccoli might be between the bread."
Wanda smiled at the memory, the ends of it tapering off. You changed her life, and even when Hela made fun of you, you shut her up with a comment about how she stuffed her bra. It was devastating to a 14-year-old. 
After that, the two of you were inseparable. You still occasionally hung out with your group of friends, but you definitely drifted to spend time with Wanda. 
Wanda wonders if it was actually at that moment that she fell in love with you, but at 14, she didn't know how else to interpret it other than friendship. 
You and Wanda didn't meet Nat, Steve, Bucky, and all the others until high school when the other districts were poured into one school. Since then, so much has happened. 
Your parents divorced.
Wanda's mother passed away from cancer. 
You dated Sam very briefly, giving him your first kiss and then shortly breaking up with him after. 
You came out to her, scared, hesitant, and so happy when Wanda didn't care. 
Wanda started to date Vision.
Wanda wanted to go to NYU, and you happily went there with her. 
You confessed you had a crush on Natasha but didn't want to pursue it. 
Wanda's first break-up with Vision. 
You dated Jean Grey and cried when she left you for Scott. 
When you wanted to stay in New York City, Wanda decided to stay here too, rooting her career here with you. 
Wanda wonders if maybe actually she'd fallen in love with you several times over and over but didn't know how to interpret any of her strong feelings for you, categorizing them as friendship just as she did when she was 14.
"I'm home!" 
Wanda hears the apartment door close and the shuffling of you taking off your shoes. She looks at the time and realizes two hours have already passed. Deciding that she's wallowed enough, Wanda decides to get out of bed and leave her room, running her fingers through her hair to tame it.
When she enters the kitchen, Wanda finds you starting the process of making paprikash. It's something you've always done for her when she's sick, feeling down, or homesick. Yet, in this moment, something swells inside Wanda's chest, and she wants to burst out crying again.
"Oh, hey," you turn around and smile as you see her, and Wanda clears her throat and blinks the tears quickly away.
"Hey," Wanda smiles back as she makes her way towards you. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I'm feeling better."
You open your arms for her to dive into a tight hug. You smell like clean laundry and mint, and Wanda wants to bottle your smell. The tension in Wanda lately starts to drain from her body as you rub her back comfortingly. 
"Some paprikash never hurt nobody," you joke. "I'm glad you're feeling better, though, brat. Is it the break-up with Vis?"
"Huh?" Wanda's brows furrow. "No, not really. I haven't really thought about it."
"Homesickness?"
"Er," Wanda fiddles with the back of your shirt. "Kinda, I guess."
"Well, good thing Thanksgiving is in a few months. Your dad and brother are coming here this year, right?"
Wanda nods, brightening at the thought of seeing her family. "Yes, I hope papa and Tony don't get into it again this year."
"I think your dad gets a sick sense of joy of torturing the son of man responsible for all the weapons that destroyed Sokovia," you say dryly. "I think Tony's starting to catch on he's not serious, though."
Wanda chuckles, and you pat her shoulders before you pull away and take out a knife and chopping board. Watch sits on the bar stool, watching you cook, letting things fall into a comfortable silence. 
This was everything, Wanda thought.
Nothing could ruin this moment, and Wanda thought long and hard, building up the courage to say something about her feelings. She wasn't sure what to say, so she might start with something flirtatious, but Wanda would say it more sensually instead of the usual joking tone. 
"Oh!" You say without looking at Wanda, chopping the onion and garlic. "I forgot to tell you. Raye's flying back in a few days before heading out again, and we planned a date this weekend."
Everything is ruined, and Wanda can't tell if the onion or the devastating news is causing her eyes to water.
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"Why did you bring me here?" Yelena hisses.
"Because I can't bring Natasha!" Wanda hisses back. "And be quiet or else they're going to hear us!"
"Why not Natasha? She's your other closest friend," Yelena says, quieter as she grumbles. "You're making me miss movie night with Kate. We're supposed to watch Insidious and you're ruining my chances of making fun of her being scared."
"Because," Wanda exasperatedly says. "I've already had a meltdown with Natasha, and she's going to make all sorts of comments if she knows I'm doing this now. I can't be here alone since this is the type of restaurant only couples go to."
"You think I won't make comments?" Yelena raises her brow at Wanda, looking frighteningly similar to Natasha at that moment. "I thought you grew out of stalking Bug's dates in university."
Wanda doesn't reply, too busy staring at your table. Raye is making some kind of flirty comment, reaching across the table and lacing your fingers through hers. You're laughing—Wanda can tell with how your shoulders shake. 
The restaurant you've chosen to take Raye to is a slightly upscale steak restaurant. You've ordered cocktails, a bottle of wine, and two appetizers to start. 
Raye's biting her bottom lip suggestively before she takes a sip of her wine, her index finger is stroking the back of your hand, and Wanda's wondering if she can bribe a waiter to spill a glass of beer on Raye accidentally. 
"Seriously, I know you're best friends, but this is out of hand. Just confess before Raye steals your girl and they get married."
Wanda whips her head back towards Yelena, eyes filled with indignation. 
"THEY WOULD NEVER—"
"SHHH," Yelena hisses, and they both have to hide behind their menus when you turn around and look. "Jesus Christ, Maximoff."
"They would never get married," Wanda huffs before peeking outside her menu to see that you've returned to your conversation with Raye. But then she turns back to Yelena. "You know about my feelings? Did you always know? Did you—"
"Shut up," Yelena groans. "No, I was just fishing, and you're the sucker I caught. I mean, was there a time I thought you guys were too close? Yes, but it eventually became normal."
The two of them put their menu's down when it's safe, and Yelena seems to be carefully planning how to explain her thoughts. 
"We've all accepted that you guys are very close, but you both kept dating different people—you specifically only dating boys and then Vision. It worked out that we were all going to NYU, but did you know that Bug had an offer to study abroad and do an internship that would've accelerated her graduation and then career?" Yelena carefully looks at Wanda's face.
"What?" Wanda frowns. She vaguely remembers you mentioning the program but recalled you dismissing it. You didn't tell her you were offered a spot in the program. "No, but I mean, she was building her online platform, and it was taking off. She didn't need to do an internship."
"No," Yelena agreed with a shrug, "but it wouldn't have hurt. I suspect she couldn't stand the idea of being away from you for a year. Just like how you turned down the job offer in LA at graduation when you knew she would stay in NYC."
"That wasn't—I just—" Wanda huffs. "I like where I am now. My work is flexible." 
"Yeah, but being in public relations, you could've been making twice the amount you are now," Yelena raises her brow again. "Although, at this point, I suspect you both chose adaptable careers in case one of you wanted to move to another city."
"That's not true," Wanda protests.
"Do you even like being a PR?" Yelena asks. "At least Bug loves photography. You, on the other hand, have a talent for PR, but it'd be just as easy for you to do anything else."
"I do like it," Wanda stresses. "It's easy, and the clients I've got keep me busy enough. Just because I don't spend all my time on it or talk about it doesn't mean I don't like it."
"But—"
"Enough talking, our food is coming, and you better be ready to leave at a moment's notice," Wanda cuts Yelena off as the waiter arrives and sets their food down. 
"Worst. Date. Ever," Yelena deadpans.
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As it turns out, Raye lives relatively close to the restaurant as you walk hand-in-hand back to her place.
And not too far behind, Wanda and a reluctant Yelena trail from a distance. 
"She's not going to Raye's house, is she?" Wanda whispers with a frown.
"Why not?" Yelena grunts, adjusting her leather jacket. "She has casual flings all the time, and by the looks of their date earlier, it went very well."
"Not. Helping," Wanda glares at Yelena. They enter a street filled with apartments, and Wanda is careful about not following too close and walking under the streetlights.
"This is psychotic," Yelena groans. "Can't we go home? I feel like a literal serial killer out here."
Wanda doesn't respond, just staring ahead as they continue to walk. You're swinging your hand back and forth, interlaced with Raye's. There's giggling, and Raye keeps leaning closer to say something to you. 
There's so much sexual tension that it's palpable from here, and Wanda wishes there was a serial killer out here. 
How was Wanda going to stop this? How was Wanda going to prevent you from going home with someone else?
Wanda picks up a small rock and chucks it hard toward your general direction, hoping to spook the two of you apart. Except, her aim is so terrible that it flies completely left and hits the car beside you instead.
The car alarm goes off, setting off flashing lights and a very, very loud beeping noise.
"Wanda, what the fuck—" Yelena is cut off when Wanda suddenly shoves her down into a bush and dives next to her. "Ow, you fucking—" Wanda slaps her hand over Yelena's mouth.
You and Raye look behind, completely perplexed, when no one is there. You try to check out the vehicle, but other than a small dent, nothing is wrong with the car otherwise. Since neither you nor Raye caused it, you continued walking.
It turns out Raye lived in the building just a few steps ahead. You both stand at the door, holding hands before Raye throws her arms around your neck, smirking. 
Wanda's about to pick up another rock when Raye moves in suddenly for a hot, searing kiss.
And when Wanda watches you kiss back, her hand goes slack. Something awful builds in the pit of her stomach, and there's nothing Wanda can do when she watches you go into the apartment. 
Yelena watches Wanda's crestfallen face and sighs. "Wanda—"
"Let's just get back to the car and go home," Wanda mutters as she stands up, not bothering to brush off the dirt, leaves, or twigs from her hair. 
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The car ride home is sickeningly pathetic—a new low for Wanda. 
"PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE. PLEASE DON'T HAVE SOMEBODY WAITING ON YOUUUU—" Wanda hoarsely cries out, tears streaming down her face. She's off-tune, and she's screaming more than she is singing. 
"Oh, god," Yelena sighs, bringing her hand to her face in embarrassment in the passenger seat. They've stopped at a red light, and the car beside them is staring at them strangely. "This is sad for even you, Maximoff."
Wanda doesn't even acknowledge that she heard Yelena, only belting out, "I'LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW—"
"Just kill me, just kill me, just crash this car and kill us both," Yelena mutters to herself. 
The house is dark when Wanda returns, not that it should be any surprise. Deep down, though, Wanda hoped you'd return home and somehow beat her to it. 
Wanda's eyes feel tired and raw from crying the entire way home. Yelena gave her a reluctant hug, mustering all her kindness into rubbing Wanda's back and kissing the crown of her head when it was buried in her friend's shoulder. 
Pulling out her phone, Wanda looks at her texts. One from work, a couple of Natasha, one from Vis, and one from Pietro. She stares at your name in her messages, but nothing comes even if she wills it. 
Instead, she shoots you a quick "hey :)" and puts her phone away. You'd unlikely answer, but Wanda couldn't help herself. 
Sighing, Wanda gets ready for the night, trying to not let her mind drift on what activities you and Raye could be doing.
Please let it be scrabble, please let it be scrabble, Wanda thinks as she finishes brushing her teeth. 
As she walks towards her room, she pauses. It's unlikely you'd return until tomorrow morning, maybe even noon. Biting her lip, Wanda turns and walks into your room instead, crawling into your bed under the sheets. She pulls the blanket up to her chin, inhaling your scent slowly.
It both comforts her and makes her heart twinge. 
After an hour, sleep falls upon Wanda easily, and she's nearly in a deep sleep when the lights suddenly turn on, and a yelp is heard.
Wanda wakes up suddenly, shooting up with her heart pounding that it's a robber, but it's just you standing at the door with your hand over your heart and chest heaving. 
"Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!" You scold Wanda. "I totally thought you were my sleep paralysis demon!"
Wanda rolls her eyes at the comment but frowns as you calm yourself and rummage through your closet for sleeping clothes. "What are you doing at home? I thought you were going to sleep over at Raye's."
"She got a call in the middle of everything. It was her sister or something having some kind of meltdown. Raye says her sister can be dramatic, and it happens once a month, but she couldn't really hang up. I got sleepy waiting, but I didn't wanna crash there to just sleep on a first date," you answer. 
"I'm sure you would've gotten some in the morning," Wanda mutters.
"I guess, but feels weird since it'd definitely be rushed," you take off your jacket and socks before heading to the bathroom. "It's fine, we'll probably reschedule for another date." 
"Perfect," Wanda sighs as she starts to get up. 
"Stay there, brat," you tell her as you stand at the door. "If you're gonna sleep in my bed, you better commit to the sleepover."
Wanda sticks her tongue out at you, which you return before you leave.
Tapping her fingers against the sheets, Wanda smiles. Maybe the night wasn't so hopeless after all. 
PART THREE
1K notes · View notes
yikesdrama · 2 months
Text
we’ll be fine line 🪐 — Bucky Barnes (ongoing series)
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🫶🍿🤤| athlete!bucky barnes x athlete!reader, college au.
series summary —
Dive into the chaos that is Bucky Barnes’ love life as SHIELD College’s resident playboy learns the hard way that playing games with hearts isn’t as easy as winning them on the field. Watch as he fumbles his way through falling for Y/N Romanoff, the no-nonsense, badass captain of the girls' hockey team.
One slip-up and he's on the brink of losing everything he never knew he wanted, and he's got only one shot to set it right. Expect all the highs and lows—friendship, betrayal, drama, heartbreak, and maybe, just maybe, redemption.
Because let's be real: college is just high school with more coffee and worse decisions.
Main Character Relationships -
Bucky Barnes (endgame), Natasha Romanoff (sister), Yelena Belova (adoptive sister), Tony Stark (childhood bestie), Loki Laufeyson (fling), Steve Rogers (eventual brother-in-law), Kate Bishop (eventual sister-in-law)
Character Pairings -
Bucky Barnes x Y/N Romanoff, Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova, Peter Parker x MJ, Y/N Romanoff x Loki Laufeyson
🔊 tag list is open, comment if you wanna be added!
🚫 Content Warnings in each chapter. But minors dni, if you do it's at your own risk. This work contains, 18+ content, violence, blood, death, smut, inappropriate language, mental health issues, sexual abuse, emotional pain, etc.
prologue
00. you smile like it’s no big deal
01. meet me in the hallway
02. hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect
03. tracksuit and a ponytail
04. late night talking
05. walk in your rainbow paradise
06. you're so golden
07. maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two
08. just an arrogant son of a bitch
09. you got the antidote
10. you'll never need me again
11. we don't talk enough
12. don't you call him 'baby'
13. she lives in daydreams with me
14. we should open up
15. in a black dress, such an actress
16. just let me adore you
17. tastes so sweet, looks so real
18. my only angel
19. baby, you are the love of my life
20. we'll be alright
epilogue
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thewidowsledger · 12 days
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Secrets Behind Our Dreams
Chapter 14: Last Piece | 4.5k
© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE
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Summary: You are a club dancer; a stripper. Natasha is a respected notorious mob boss. What would happen if your paths happened to cross one night? The only thing you knew about each other was your dreams, and neither of you knew what the other was.
Pairing: Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Female Reader
Tags | Warnings: 18+, bad writing, dark themes, arson, torture (kinda waterbloating) Natasha almost killing Yelena with a piece of cloth and water, thoughts of suicide, implied sexual abuse, Natasha being a child of r4p3 (I’m really sorry)
Author's Note: BEWARE OF THE WARNINGS‼️I feel like I wasn't able to write everything in this chapter because I wrote this in a rush and since I will be gone for another week or 2 or worst a month, I decided to post this now. I also have received all the requests and tiger cub 🐅 I will surely write the one you requested :3 it will be the first fic I will post as soon as I get back.
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Yelena found herself lying in her safehouse, the familiar surroundings a small comfort amidst the pain coursing through her body. When she tried to move her left wrist was restrained, handcuffed to the bed. Despite the situation, she remained calm, she's trained for this—these things are like simple activities to her. She tried to reach out for the side table, to look for something she can use to free herself but the table was gone.
“Fuck, that was the first thing I bought with my own money.”
A sound of the chair legs scraping against the floor echoed in the silence while the blonde struggled in her own bed, when she shot her head forward she saw a figure loom over.
“Natasha…” she called out in a warning. Even if she hasn't seen who it is, she knew it was her sister.
Of course she knew she’ll come after her.
“Hope you don't mind me paying a visit,” Natasha said as she sat down on the chair she had dragged. The harsh sound of the metal against the ground only added to the tension in the room. The blonde always made a visit to her place without her knowing it so why wouldn't she do the same?
“I’m sorry.”
“Where is she?”
“Natasha, please…”
“Don't beg, yet.”
Yelena winced slightly as she shifted her body, but she managed to sit upright, her back resting against the wall. The coldness of the stone wall sent a chill down her spine, but it provided the support she needed. The handcuff kept her left wrist in place on the bed, limiting her movement.
“Where's the puppy?” Yelena asked as she tried to shift the situation.
“Somewhere safe,” Natasha replied. “But the mom?” She paused, her gaze boring into Yelena's, “That's what I'm asking you.” She now stood and walked over her sister who is now scooting on the corner of her bed.
“Where is Y/N?” she asked again with a little bit of force now.
“I don't know, Natasha,” Yelena said truthfully but her sister did not seem to be satisfied with that answer. Natasha felt like her own sister was lying to her, so she left in a minute and when she got back, she was dragging a trash bag behind her.
“Woah, woah, Natasha don't!” Yelena's eyes widened as she saw her own collection of vests inside the trash bag, and her heart almost stopped when Natasha carelessly flung a lighter onto the pile in a blink.
The blonde watched in horror as the items burst into flames, the fire licking and consuming her precious collection of vests.
“I am telling you the truth!” Yelena shouted, her chest rose and fell quickly as she breathed heavily, the smell of burning fabric filled the room, the acrid aroma of the vests being consumed by flames filling her nostrils. Yelena watched as her sister walked out of the room again. A few moments later, she could hear the sound of water moving through pipes as her sister returned with a hose in hand. She breathed thinking her sister would use it for the burning clothes she just lit, but then her sister gripped her right hand and cuffed it to the side of the bed, forcing her to lie back.
“Natasha…” She tugged on the handcuffs, the metal biting on both of her wrists as she struggled to break free, but to no avail.
The redhead grabbed a towel from nearby and placed it over her sister's face, covering her completely. The fabric was thick and stifling, making it nearly impossible for Yelena to breathe.
“What the fuck! Natasha!” She shouted but the fabric made her words muffled.
Natasha then took the head of the hose and aimed it over the towel-covered face of her sister, the water already running at maximum pressure. The force of the stream pushed the towel further into Yelena's mouth and nose, the water pouring down her throat and into her lungs. Her body convulsed as she gagged and sputtered, her legs thrashing beneath her.
She desperately tried to inhale through the soaked towel. Each breath was a fight, water pouring into her mouth and nostrils, choking and burning her. Her lungs screamed for air, but all she could draw in was more water.
Yelena's face scrunched up in agony beneath the towel and a slideshow of memories flickered through her mind—the moments she shared with you, short, yet changed the trajectory of her life.
She felt guilty about how she treated you, the names she called you. She still hated you, though, she hated how your purity and warmth reminded her of her own hardened ways. She also hated how good your cookies are.
But what she hated most was that she couldn't escape the fact that you had inadvertently made her realize the truth–that deep down, her sister, Natasha who was torturing her right now, loved her more than she cared to admit
“You know, your sister loves you.”
Just as suddenly as it began, the water stopped. She managed to remove the soaked towel from her face, coughing and sputtering as she tried to clear the water from her throat. Her vision was blurry, and her body ached from the ordeal, but her mind remained focused on one thing: finding you.
The hose continued to run, soaking the pile of her vests and extinguishing the last remnants of the fire.
“Red R-room,” Yelena gasped out.
Natasha stopped her movements when she heard her sister say the two words she doesn't want to hear anymore.
“They took her, Nat. It's them.”
“And you let them,” she said coldly, “You helped them!” She now turned and pointed a finger on her sister, she then fished out the burner phone Yelena had and threw it to her making the blonde wince when it hit her stomach.
“I can handle the truth of the Red Room resurfacing after all these years, after I burnt them down,” Natasha tried to keep her tears at bay, not wanting Yelena to see her vulnerable at this point, “But you?” Her gaze locked onto her sister, she clenched her jaw and finally let the tears fall from her eyes, “My own sister? Betraying me?”
“How could you do this to me?!”
Natasha exhaled, wiping her tears as she tried to hold her anger that she thought was finally gone after she almost killed her sister with a piece of towel.
“I’m sorry.”
“Shut up.”
“Sestra, please.”
“Shut up!”
“I was supposed to bring her back to you!” Yelena didn't back down, she wanted her sister to know about it, about you—about how you changed her. Maybe the things Natasha saw in you that she now saw too.
“I w-was changing my mind...” The weight of her actions, of what she did to you is now eating her alive.
“Too late.”
“Natasha! You're gonna need me!” Yelena called out urgently, thrashing her cuffed hands when she saw her sister moving to walk away—this time she thinks it's for good. “I'm going to help you! I'll find Y/N!”
Yelena's pleading continued, desperate to convince her sister to give her a chance. But Natasha didn't stop, didn't turn back. With a final glance, she vanished from sight, leaving Yelena drowning in guilt and shame of her betrayal.
“I’m sorry.”
You slowly wake-up, blinking your eyes a few times as you look at the ceiling above you. Your body is numb and you can hear a faint ringing in your ears as your heart starts to race. You shut your eyes and counted up to 3 and you managed to slowly sit upright but your body trembled. You look desperately around the room and notice heavy curtains. You're about to move towards it when you hear a voice.
“That will get you nowhere.”
You freeze abruptly, you can hear the loud thud of your heart as you scan the unfamiliar room for the source of the voice. And that's when you see a woman, sitting on her own bed across the room.
“W-who ar—”
“Xialing, Xu Xialing,” she cut you off as if she was already expecting you to ask her that.
“Xialing? A-as in the pri—”
“The Princess of Ta Lo,” despite you being disoriented right now, you noticed how her tone dropped. You’ve seen her on TV, when the crown was passed down to her mother. You always dreamed of being like her and now she's in the same room as you.
The only difference is that she is a princess and you're just a stripper.
Dreams be damned but you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you desperately ask again, this time you whispered it to yourself but it didn't go unheard by the princess, “Where am I?”
She observed you, her expression remained calm as she responded with a question of her own, “What was the last thing you remember?”
And that's when it hits you, the last thing you remember was the sight of Yelena, lying motionless on the street while the small puppy she bought you licked her face.
“You brought us in so much trouble already, you’re going to pay for it.”
Tears stream down your cheeks as the memory floods your mind. You then rushed towards her and stood in front of her bed, “We’re in danger, we need to get out of here,” you informed her as you paced around, finally gaining your senses back, “I-I was kidnapped a-and…and…”
As if she heard nothing, she simply tightened the robe around her body and walked in front of you to her vanity table. She sat there, casually searching on the drawers.
You furrow your brows in disbelief as you watch her start combing her hair, “What are you doing?” You asked and you weren't able to contain your frustration as your voice came out louder than you intended—even if you knew that you were talking to a royalty.
As you watch her continue to brush her hair, a sudden realization hits you. You had assumed the worst for yourself, but what about her? Has she been here for a long time now? Was she also taken captive? How can she be so calm?
You looked at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair, your voice cracking as you ask, “W-were you taken too?”
She huffed, “We all are,” she then fixed her robe, and then there, you saw a glimpse of a scar on her shoulder similar to yours, “Even the only heir to the throne cannot be shielded away from danger.” She met your gaze on the mirror before she placed the comb back to its place.
“No one can escape the Red Room.”
“W-what are you saying,” you asked in a shaky voice, “w-what Red Room?”
“What's your story?” She asked, answering your question with a question once again. “Girls here have different stories,” you watched her in the mirror as she put some moisturizer on her face, “there's this spoiled daughter of a corrupt mayor in Europe, her room is across ours. She's one of the favorites, not the one to be messed with. Then there's the wife of the president of Latveria…” She trailed off as she noted every woman that was taken by god who knows what room.
“There's also this one student of Kamar-Taj, only few can enroll in that prestigious school. Very strict and they don't let the students out, they can only have visitors once in 2 months,” she shook her head sideways and chuckled lightly to herself, “but it's the Red Room, so…they still got her.”
She twisted the cap back onto her moisturizer bottle and then turned to face you as she sat on the edge of her vanity table, her arms crossing and eyeing you with anticipation.
“So what about you? What's your story?”
These were women from powerful backgrounds, high-class families, sent to prestigious schools—probably filthy rich. They’re literally elites, royalties, lived in mansions and had influential families, parents, husbands, partners, connections. And you? Hell, you have no one. You survived on scraps and you swallow filthy comments for a living, how can't you? You're just a lowly stripper who accidentally got saved by a mob by sheer luck.
So you remained silent, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat together with the shame you feel right now. The princess noticed it, though, but she didn't pry further.
“What's your name?”
“Y/N...”
She then moved closer to her bed and dipped herself on the soft sheets. She spoke again, “You were the last piece, Y/N,” she said and that made you furrow your brows more, this time not to hold your tears back but in confusion as you struggled to process what she just said.
Last piece?
“They had a hard time finding you, so whoever was protecting you must be powerful.”
“Not powerful enough, though,” she added that made you hitch your breath as you saw flashes of Natasha’s image before your eyes.
“But that makes us all the same, no matter how powerful we are, they still found us.” She then tucked herself in, signaling the end of the conversation.
You fixated on the princess beneath her duvet, your mind filled with horror with everything she just told you, what bothers you more is as if she had grown accustomed to this—comfortable even.
How will you process all that? All the suppressed tears you had been holding back now streamed down your cheeks. You swiftly brought your hands to your mouth, desperately trying to muffle the sobs that threatened to erupt.
“Crying will get you nowhere, you should rest,” she advised for the last time. “In a couple of days, you’ll see real powerful people. And we’ll be paraded while they dish out millions on us like it’s a chump change.”
The Princess told you everything you need about the Red Room, it's a sinister organization. They'll take who they're ordered to take, no questions asked. They will do anything if the price is right, regardless of who asks. Each woman in this place as you were all specifically targeted and requested. It's the Red Room's specialty—fulfilling those who request abductions of women.
And what bothers you now is who would pay just to take you?
Xialing applied her lipstick, fixing herself in front of her own vanity mirror as you sat on your bed, staring at nothing.
“We're having breakfast, be aware that there will be armed guards stationed outside,” she informed you sternly. “Stay calm, refrain from any impulsive actions. Speak only when spoken to, and avoid attracting attention. And above all,” she continued, her voice firm, “Do not attempt anything stupid. Keep yourself out of trouble, don't get in anyone’s way.”
You found yourself lost in thought, staring blankly at the floor in front of you. Your eyes had become unblinking as you became lost in your own thoughts. You can feel your chest tightening as a crushing sense of hopelessness begins to take hold. You felt trapped, helpless, and your despair grew with each passing moment.
The sound of the door opening echoed through the room and two men entered, their big weapons clinging in their body. The princess stood up from her seat, her gaze fixated on them. You, however, remained seated, your eyes vacant as tears streamed down your face. It was as if you were detached from reality, no longer responding to the world around you.
The princess shot a frustrated glance back in your direction, her irritation evident. She immediately ran to your bed and shook you.
“Why do you always cry?! If you want to survive,” she hissed, “you have to pull yourself together because crying won’t help you here!”
You struggled to stand, your body heavy with despair, and the princess nearly had to drag you to your feet. As you stood, you wiped the tears from your face.
“She's fine.” The princess told the guards who seemed being impatient with the two of you.
She guided you as you walked passed them. Your eyes take in every detail of your surroundings as you both went outside the room. You silently counted the cameras that were positioned in each corner of the hall, your eyes noting the locations of each one.
Next, you focused on the guards, mentally tallying their movements and positions within their area.
As you entered the dining area, there was a long table with girls seated in chairs. Their expressions were vacant as you, as if they were under mysterious control. A guard stepped forward, he dragged you away from the princess and firmly directed you towards your assigned seat. You reminded yourself not to fight even if your body wants to.
A woman at the head of the table smirked as she looked directly at you.
“Ah, perfect, all the chairs are filled. The last piece is here.”
You remained silent, eyes fixated on the table in front of you but that didn't stop you from feeling all the attention pointing towards you. The woman then clapped, and almost on cue, guards wheeled in carts laden with food and placed them on the table. The aroma filled the air, and the sight of delicious dishes lined the table. However, you remained silent and unresponsive, still unable to bring yourself to move even a single finger.
As you sat silently, your eyes scanned the table in front of you, and something immediately caught your attention–the sight of plastic utensils getting placed at the table. Confusion filled your mind as you wondered why they would use such materials for a meal in this luxurious setting.
You’re mind now fell onto the darker part of your brain by wanting to place the fork in your neck or maybe at your chest and just end it there. And there, you realized the reason why they use plastic as utensils.
The other women at the table began to eat, but you paid them no attention. You sat silently, ignoring the food on your plate. The central woman then tilted her head in your direction, her voice cold and commanding.
“Stripper,” she called that made you pull out from your deep thought, your throat tightened but you remained fixed on the food on your plate, not daring to look at her direction or to anyone. It sounded degrading coming from her and it made you want to rip your soul apart from your body as you remember that all women in here were literally nothing like you.
You sure do really need to know your place here.
“Eat. Or I will force you to eat, and trust me, it will hurt.”
You swallowed, your throat felt dry, and you slightly glanced at the princess seated across from you. Her eyes met your gaze, and she mouthed the words “please, eat” silently to you. The look in her eyes was pleading, her concern for you visible in her expression.
You took a shaky breath and picked up the plastic fork, your fingers trembling slightly as you began to eat. The food tasted bland and unappetizing, but you forced yourself to swallow each morsel that passed your lips.
The woman at the center of the table observed you silently, her gaze fixed upon you as you ate, clearly evaluating your compliance.
She then clapped her hands once more, and with remarkable efficiency. The guards immediately began to remove the food from the table, regardless of whether you had finished it or not. The sight of each plate being taken away so quickly was slightly unnerving.
You managed to take a total of four bites before the guards removed each plate and utensils from the table. Then, the woman at the center of the table gestured to a girl at the table, “You, over there–you have a visitor. Get ready.”
The girl immediately started to cry and plead, “No, no, no, please!” But the guard advanced toward her, undeterred by her frantic pleas.
You felt a sense of helplessness wash over you as you desperately wanted to intervene, but an invisible force seemed to hold you back—as if you were tied to your chair. You looked at Xialing who quietly shook her head, signaling you not to take any rash actions that will for sure put you to a death row situation.
Unable to bear the sight and sounds of the girl’s cries, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, desperately trying to block them out. Your heart pounded heavily, and your fingernails dug into the skin of your palms as a means to distract yourself from the heartbreaking situation unfolding before you.
Once the girl had been led away, the woman at the center of the table addressed the remaining girls, “See you all at lunch.”
One guard approached each girl, gently taking hold of your arm as they guided each of you back to your rooms. As the guards led you back to yours, you felt frustrated, hating how you were being handled like a prisoner. But you are, though, you also remembered the princess’s earlier warning and tried your best to control yourself, knowing that any resistance or disobedience could put you in more danger.
You sat on your bed, your gaze vacant as you stared at the floor once again. The sound of the door opening echoed through the room, and without even turning your head, you knew that it was the princess entering.
“That was Agatha, she's the head here.” The princess spoke as if she knew all the questions you had in mind.
Your voice was cold and devoid of emotion as you asked, “What will happen to the girl?”
The princess stayed silent, her attention shifting to the vanity mirror as she began to fix her appearance. She did not offer any response to your question, her focus solely on her reflection.
You stood up abruptly, your voice filled with irritation and anger as you faced her.
“Why aren't you answering my question now, huh?” you laughed humorlessly, “You speak to me as if you know everything in my mind, but now you can't answer my question?”
“What is going to happen to that girl?” you repeated the question shakingly, angrily emphasizing each word.
“I am not answering because the answer to your question is already in your mind too.”
“No…” you shook your head, you wanted to throw up everything you ate on that goddamn table.
“She might probably meet the one who requested her from the Red Room but they won't have her not until the night.”
“Stop,” you whispered.
But the princess didn't bother, she continued, “And whoever that person can do whatever they want on her, like fuck her or...”
“Stop!”
“You want to know the truth, don't you? And now you cannot accept it?!”
The princess spun around, her face now visible to you.
“That is her truth! Because the same thing happened to me!” Her eyes were filled with anger and pain. She stood mere inches away from you, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her revelation.
You could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, their warmth cascading down your cheeks. It was not for your own pain but for the princess' and the girl. The realization of what they had been through, the suffering they endured, and the horrors of what is happening or what might happen to the girl right now broke you, and the tears rolled down shamelessly.
Xialing clenched her jaw, her voice sharp and harsh.
“I don't need your tears or your sympathy,” she said firmly, her jaw clenching as she turned her back at you. Now, she is the one who's trying to hold her own tears back, not for herself—but for you.
“Better save your tears for yourself because the same thing will happen to you in no time.”
Bucky pushed Yelena forcefully forward, his grip on her arm firm and unwavering. Yelena stumbled, regaining her balance as she came to a halt in front of Natasha's table.
“I saw this one climbing in,” Bucky said, his voice monotone. “I thought I'd bring her to you.”
Natasha looked up, her gaze shifting towards her sister who stood before her, panting and disheveled.
“Natasha…” she breathed but she was interrupted when Maria pushed the door open and entered the room, her eyes widening as she took in the blonde who looked so distressed in front of her.
“I thought we were having an emergency meeting,” she chuckled in surprise, “I didn't know we were having a torture party. Should I get your toys, Natalia?”
“You made the wrong move coming here, little one,” Bucky growled. “Did you really think you could still sneak in unnoticed this time?”
“Enough of that,” Natasha interjected, her authoritative tone silencing Bucky and Maria instantly.
Yelena seized the opportunity to speak, “I know you're looking for Y/N and I...I can help you.”
“Dreykov is not stupid enough to trust you with everything. They just used you and you, in your desperate quest to prove your worth, did whatever Papa wanted you to. Even if it's you taking away the one I love! ”
Yelena visibly flinched at her sister's words. Her expression shifted from determination to disbelief and for a brief moment, a flicker of guilt once again passed through her eyes with Natasha's revelation.
Her sister loves you and she knowingly became a part of those chains that led you away from her.
Her determination flared up even more.
“But I am not dumber, Natasha,” the blonde asserted. “I tracked them. I know where they are. We both know that I know the Red Room better than you. I knew they were still out there when you thought you succeeded in burning them, but you don't. You know mama is a product of the—”
She was cut off as Natasha hurled the glass of whiskey in her direction making the blonde flinch.
“Mama is not a product of the Red Room!” she shouted, her words filled with fierce anger. “She was a victim! She didn't choose that life, it was forced upon her. Don't you dare label her in that way!”
“YA byl produktom…” (I was the product) she now let out a humorless chuckle as she stared directly onto her sister's eyes, the irony of her own words bitter in her mouth. “You still don't get it, sestra, do you?”
Yelena froze, her breaths becoming shallow as Natasha's words settled within her. Her mind raced, refusing to accept the horrifying truth that was beginning to take shape.
She shook her head, an unconscious act of denial. “No,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath, “They love each other from the beginning! Papa loved Mama the first ti—”
“If they did…” Natasha didn't let her sister finish, not wanting to hear the stupid fairytale lie of a love story Alexei used to tell them as a kid.
“Why did Mama look at me, as if I reminded her of her worst nightmare?” The horrified look of her mother on her flashed in Natasha's mind, she winced as she remember how many countless times she called out for her Mama, but her cries went unanswered.
The three stood in silence, their heads were kept down in unease as Natasha revealed and recounted her pain.
“You heard the different side of the love story, Yeye. Why don't you flip the other side, so you'll see the rest of it?” Natasha's smirk was tinged with a bitter edge as she echoed the nickname Alexei used to call the blonde.
“He loved her the first time he laid eyes on her?” She paused in disbelief, her expression hardening as she avoided addressing Alexei as her Papa. “It was nothing more than an illusion - a sick, twisted form of possession. He was a coward, so he just asked his friend to capture her. He paid them and forced himself on Mama.” She narrowed her eyes as she looked once again at her sister, “I thought you knew the Red Room well?”
“I do, I still do...I know their every movement but what they don't know is I am willing to betray them for you, Natalia.”
Secret Behind Our Dreams: Masterlist
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delicatebarness · 2 months
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barnes' girl | chapter two
Summary: Attending a party with Yelena, you encounter an old fling, Harley. As the night progresses, you grapple with your feelings. Leading to a morning filled with tension and unspoken emotions.
Warning: Alcohol Consumption. Drug Use (Not Reader, or main characters.) Sexual Situations. Intoxication. Emotional Distress. Aggressive Behavior. Power Dynamics.
Word Count: 2890
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A/N: I'm poorly and I wanted more of these two okay :( - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B
Barnes' Girl: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this series. | @im-alestan | @carrotlove | @scott-loki-barnes | @mrsstuckyboo
Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @mrsnikstan | @lanabuckybarnes
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The party was already in full swing by the time you arrived. Packed with people– music, chatter, and the faint smell of alcohol and weed filled the air. You grabbed Yelena’s hand, letting her lead the way as she navigated the crowded rooms. 
“Let’s get drunk!” Yelena shouted over the thumping music, pulling you toward the makeshift bar in the kitchen. Filling your cup with something sweet, and strong, you felt a warm buzz rush through your body, taking effect within minutes.
The day's worries melted away as your night wore on. You danced and laughed with Yelena by your side. Making everything seem brighter and lighter, the alcohol helped you enjoy yourself. And, it wasn’t long before you and Yelena noticed Harley standing across the room, his eyes fixated on you, his familiar face sparking a flutter of old feelings in the pit of your stomach. 
With a sly grin, Yelena nudged you. “Go talk to him,” she urged, giving you a playful push in his direction. 
For years, Harley had become a constant presence at these parties, and the physical attraction between you was undeniable. The many nights you found yourself exploring each other’s bodies, tangled in strange beds together, was a testament to that connection. Yet, unbeknown to anyone as to why, the relationship never evolved beyond casual hookups. 
You had harbored a quiet hope that something more might develop, but it never did. 
Approaching Harley, the alcohol mixing with the atmosphere seemed to amplify everything. Glancing up at you, his face brightened with his familiar, charismatic smile. 
“Hey, you,” Harley said, his voice low and inviting. “It’s been a little while.” 
“Yeah,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light. “It’s good to see you.” The alcohol gave you a little more courage, but you couldn’t help but focus on the flutter of nervousness. 
His hand lingered a bit longer than necessary, brushing your arm as he spoke. “You look amazing tonight,” he said, his voice dropping even lower. His gaze filled with warmth and with an intensity in his eyes causing your pulse to quicken. “How about we get out of here?” 
Before you could process what was happening, his lips found yours, kissing you with an urgency that surprised you. Pulling you close, his hand slid around your waist, lifting you slightly. Your heart raced as you felt the heat radiating off him. 
The kiss felt familiar, and at first, almost like a comfort. But, as the kiss deepened, something unsettling began to come into realization for you. The excitement you once felt seemingly began to fade, a growing sense of discomfort replacing it. His hand roamed up your chest as his lips moved against yours, pushing you against the wall. 
As you tried to focus on the kiss, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right, something had changed. The heat that would usually course between you fell distant, cold. Flashing in your mind like a film reel, images of Bucky appeared, and the words that fell from his lips earlier that day echoed loudly in your ears.
Your spark for Harley was no longer in sight, your mind had chosen another.
Gently pushing him away, you broke the kiss. His eyes were half-closed, still caught up in the moment. It didn’t take long for his expression to shift to confusion as he took in your sudden withdrawal. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “I thought we were having a good time?” 
You tried to steady your racing heart, taking deep breaths. “Harley… I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is right.” 
Furrowing his brow, he searched your face for an explanation. “What do you mean? This is our thing.” 
“I know,” you said, your voice steadying as you spoke. “But tonight, I… I just don’t feel the same way. It’s as if, what we had isn’t there anymore.” 
Harley’s face fell, disappointment and frustration crossed his features. “You’re serious? After all these years, you just don’t feel it?” 
You nodded, a strange feeling of regret mixed with relief coursing through you. “Yeah, I guess… Maybe, I’m just not in the same place anymore.” 
He was taken aback, staring at you for a moment. “Alright, if that’s how you feel,” he said, stepping back, and raising his hands in defeat. “I guess I’ll see you around.” 
Watching Harley walk away, a mix of emotions coursed through you. The kiss had been a reminder of how much things were changing. You couldn’t shake the feeling of disillusionment as you turned to find Yelena. Even though the night had brought clarity, it was leaving you with a sense of unresolved feelings and a newfound determination to confront the person who had recently occupied your thoughts– James Barnes. 
~
Stumbling onto the patio, the cool night air hit your flushed face as you fumbled with your phone. The distant sound of the music and laughter from the party seemed to fade as you scrolled through your contacts, the city lights blurring in your vision. You leaned against the railing for support as you came across Bucky’s number and hit call with trembling fingers. 
“Hello? Doll?” Bucky’s voice came through, groggy but with an instant concern. 
“B-Bucky?” you slurred, hiccuping slightly. “Why aren’t you asleep? Isn’t it late?” 
“I was sleeping until you called, babydoll. Where are you?” His voice was a mix of worry and frustration, but mostly worry.
“At a party with Yelena, but I can’t find her,” you mumbled, your words blending as you glanced around the patio, seeing only strangers smoking. 
“I told you to get an early night,” Bucky said, his tone stern but not unkind.
“I know,” you whined, pouting as you leaned your forehead against the cool metal of the railing. “But, I wanted to see if there was anything still there with Harley. But, there isn’t.” 
There was a pause on the other end of the line, then Bucky’s voice was firm and resolute. “Send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”
“I thought I wanted him,” you hiccupped again, tears threatening to spill over. “But I don’t. I want you.”
“Doll, send me your location,” he repeated, his voice steady but more insistent.
You ignored his request, continuing to babble incoherently, telling him facts about hydrangea flowers and how they get their color. Bucky’s tone shifted, becoming more commanding. “You have five seconds to give me your location,” he said, beginning to count down. “Five… four…”
"Um, I’m not sure,” you whispered, your voice small and sad, glancing around the unfamiliar surroundings.
“Alright, baby,” he softened, “go outside for me, okay?”
“Okay,” you agreed, pushing through the crowd and out the door, your steps unsteady. The night air was crisp, and the sound of traffic and city life enveloped you. You shivered slightly, both from the cold and your anxiety.
“What do you see around you?” he asked, his voice a calming presence in your ear.
You looked around, struggling to steady your gaze. "I see... a streetlight flickering and a corner convenience store with a red awning. There’s a mural on the wall next to it, and the street’s lined with parked cars," you managed, your voice shaky.
“Good girl, stay there. I’m coming to get you,” he reassured you. The promise of his arrival brought a sense of relief, and you clung to it, waiting for the familiar sight of his car to appear.
~
Pulling up to the curb, Bucky emerged with a concerned expression from a black SUV, its dark windows reflecting the city’s neon lights. His intense gaze scanned the street before locking onto you. He approached you swiftly, as always, his presence was both commanding and a comfort, his arm wrapping around your waist steadying you on your feet. 
“Let’s get you out of here,” he murmured with a low rumble. Guiding you gently toward the car, his grip firm yet tender.
Once inside the SUV, the seats were cool against your skin, and the dim lighting offered a relaxing contrast to the chaos of the party. The scent of leather grounded you as if mixed with the spice of Bucky’s cologne. Settling beside you, Bucky’s body was a solid and reassuring presence. 
The driver navigated the streets, and you leaned into Bucky’s side, feeling the exhaustion and alcohol catching up with you. “I’m hungry,” you mumbled, your stomach growling softly.
“Did you eat before going out?” he asked, his tone gentle yet concerned. He watched you with worry as his head tilted slightly.
You shook your head, pouting slightly. “No.”
Bucky sighed, glancing at the driver. “What do you want?”
“Chicken nuggets,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. Your childlike request lightens the mood of the night.
Making eye contact with the driver, Bucky nodded. The SUV diverted its route to a nearby fast-food place, the lights casting a warm glow as you pulled into the drive-thru. Not long after, you were handed a bag of chicken nuggets and a strawberry milkshake. You happily devoured the nuggets and drink in the back seat, a smile spreading across your face as you played with the rings on Bucky’s fingers, humming along to the low sound of the radio. 
When you finally reached his penthouse, your eyes widened in awe. The spacious, modern design with floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the city skyline– far from your shared apartment. The sleek furniture, soft lighting, and overall luxurious atmosphere left you momentarily speechless. The vast elegance of the space was overwhelming, making you feel small yet safe.
Bucky guided you to a guest bedroom, helping you settle into the plush bed. Softly lit, the room held a sense of comfort. “Get some rest, little doll,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Thank you, sir,” you murmured, your eyes already drifting closed, the softness of the bed and the warmth of his presence lulling you into sleep.
~
Walking up in an unfamiliar bed, the soft silk sheets and plush pillows only slightly eased your confusion. The room was luxurious, a far cry from your modest apartment. Panic began to set in as you realized you had no clear memory of how you’d ended up here. Quickly sitting up, the room spun slightly as you tried to piece together the events of the previous night.
Heart racing, you scrambled out of bed and stumbled toward the door. The thick carpet muffled your steps as you cautiously made your way through the penthouse, your anxiety growing with each passing second. The memories of the night before were hazy, and the unfamiliar surroundings heightened your sense of disorientation.
Finally, you reached the kitchen, the smell of food, cooking, guiding you. You peeked around the corner, and there he was—Bucky, clad in nothing, but sweatpants, standing at the stove. Flipping pancakes with easy confidence, his movements precise and rhythmic.
Relief washed over you as you saw him, though you still felt uneasy. “Bucky?” you called out, your voice trembling slightly.
He turned to you, his face lighting up with a warm, reassuring smile. “Morning, doll. I was just making breakfast.”
You nodded, though your expression was still one of confusion. “I… I don’t remember much from last night. How did I end up here?”
Bucky’s smile softened. He set down the spatula and walked over to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You called me late last night, and I came to pick you up. You were pretty out of it, so I brought you back here to know you were safe.”
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Oh, right. I’m sorry for causing any trouble.”
He shook his head, dismissing your apology with a gentle smile. “No trouble at all. How about some pancakes? I made a batch just for you.”
You hesitated for a moment, but the aroma of the pancakes was comforting. “I’d love some,” you said, offering a small smile in return.
Bucky guided you to the kitchen island, pulling out a chair for you. You sat down, still feeling slightly disoriented but grateful for the familiarity of Bucky’s presence. He served you a stack of pancakes, their golden-brown surfaces glistening with syrup.
As you began to eat, the atmosphere in the kitchen grew quieter. Bucky took a seat across from you, his demeanor shifting subtly. His usual warmth and easy confidence were replaced by a slight stiffness. His eyes, which normally sparkled with kindness, were now clouded with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place.
You noticed the change, feeling a pang of anxiety. “Bucky, is everything okay?”
He looked up, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” he said, but the words felt forced, lacking their usual sincerity.
The silence stretched on, becoming increasingly uncomfortable. You took another bite of your pancakes, trying to find something to say. “Thank you for looking after me last night. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
Bucky nodded, his gaze distant. “It’s no problem.”
You could sense the tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. The warmth of the pancakes and the comfort of the penthouse felt almost suffocating now. “Bucky, please, tell me what’s going on. Did I do something wrong?”
Bucky's silence was punctuated only by the occasional clink of cutlery against plates. Finally, he broke the uneasy quiet. “Do you not remember what happened last night?”
“No…” you admitted, your voice small. “It’s all a blur.” Your heart raced, a mix of confusion and guilt flooding you. “Bucky, what did I do to make you so pissed with me?”
“It’s not– it’s not what you did,” he snapped, frustration evident in his tone. “It’s the fact that you don’t remember a damn thing and now I’m left questioning if it was all just the alcohol talking.”
You felt a surge of defensiveness but also deep regret. “I’m– Bucky, I have no clue what you’re talking about!”
Bucky's face reddened with a surge of anger, flaring his nostrils as he clenched his jaw. His fingers gripped the edge of the kitchen counter so tightly that the knuckles turned white. His gaze was locked on you, eyes blazing with a fierce intensity that made the air feel electric.
His voice rose, sharp and unyielding, slicing through the heavy silence. “You told me last night that you didn’t want some guy named Harley, whoever the fuck that is!” His hand slammed down onto the counter with a loud thud, the sudden motion causing your body to flinch. “And then, you told me that you wanted me!” His shoulders were tense, rigid with frustration, and he took a step closer, his body language exuding a mix of fury and hurt.
He paced for a moment, his movements jerky and agitated, as if trying to contain the turmoil within him. “But you don’t remember that because you’re a little brat who cared more about intoxicating your mind than resting!” His voice cracked slightly, revealing the strain in his words, and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his face contorting with a mix of anger and disbelief.
Your breath caught at Bucky’s outburst, his anger palpable and raw. For a moment, you sat frozen, processing his harsh words and the intensity of his emotions. Yet, as the seconds ticked by, something unexpected began to stir within you. The way he’d called you a “little brat,” the sheer force of his frustration– it was unnervingly exhilarating.
His anger was like a spark igniting something deep inside you. You found yourself drawn to the power in his voice, the way his eyes darkened with intensity. The tension in his body, the rigid set of his shoulders; it was all somehow captivating. You bit your lip, trying to mask the shift in your feelings.
Instinctively, you stepped closer, lowering your gaze and giving him your most sincere, tear-filled eyes. You let your lips form a small, apologetic pout. “I really am sorry, sir,” you said softly, your voice filled with genuine regret. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 
Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at you, a mixture of frustration and reluctant amusement flickering in his gaze. He folded his arms across his chest, his posture still tense but his expression softening.
“Do you have any idea what would be happening to you right now,” he said, his tone carrying a blend of frustration and an odd, stern amusement, “if this discussion was within an agreed arrangement?”
You nodded slowly, your heart pounding at his words. The idea of facing his consequences, of navigating through this complicated emotional journey, was both intimidating and strangely thrilling. You could sense that Bucky was struggling with his emotions, trying to reconcile the feelings of frustration with the undeniable connection between you.
“I understand, sir,” you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. “And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. I just want to understand where we stand and how we can move forward.”
Bucky’s gaze softened further, though a hint of his earlier sternness remained. He stepped closer, reaching out to gently cup your cheek with his hand. The touch was both tender and commanding, a reminder of the complexity of your relationship.
---
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jtargaryen18 · 9 days
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His Inheritance ~ Chapter 35
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A/N: The center photo is indicative of the reader's gown only. Not her appearance which isn't defined.
Part 35: Dance with the Devil
Series Masterlist
Words: 5.2k
Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader
Warnings: References to mafia, reference to violence and violent acts, intimidation, dark seduction. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.
Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.
Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.
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"You are almost ready," Yelena said with a smile, just after the stylists left. "Now the jewelry."
You paused, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your gown was an exclusive creation by a top designer, a beautiful sleeveless, a-line creation in layers of tulle, sequins, and matte satin. Shades of pale blue and gold transformed you, enhanced by the ornate way your hair was done, the subtelty of your carefully applied makeup. Beneath you wore the most elegant little gold heels that were surprising comfortable despite their minimal style. The stockings were sheer, hugging your upper thighs just below the skimpy ice-blue panties you wore.
The mention of jewelry brought up an unhappy memory and you knew Yelena recalled it too when your gaze met hers. How your husband's ex-mistress smuggled her necklace in for you to wear on another special occasion had never been solved.Had it been Neal? Hansen? A reminder from the not-too-distant past that your enemies could reach you at any time. A reminder to be vigilant. 
"What jewelry?" you asked carefully.
Yelena smiled. "I picked it up myself," she told you, lifting a delicate strand of diamonds set in gold from a black velvet box on the bed. 
When she draped it around your throat, you smiled at the way it completed your look. There were matching earrings, diamond studs each with a teardrop diamond dangling and catching the light. The set was exquisite. 
"Harry Winston," your friend told you, admiring how they looked on you.
"Nice of them to loan these for the ball," you told her, grateful you got to wear them. 
Yelena reached for the golden mask on the bed, holding it to you. "No loan. Steve bought them."
What?
"These must have cost a fortune," you mused. They probably cost more than everything else you owned combined. "Glad you're going with us. I'd hate to get mugged for these."
Yelena grinned. "Security is going to be tight already with so many important people there. The mayor will be there. One of the state senators."
You scoffed. "Why am I going? I'm no one special."
"But you are," Yelena told you. 'The fact that everyone wants you has been a powerful motivator in this game of chess. Your husband is completely devoted to you. Barnes would love to get his hands on you."
"Barnes would ring my neck the first chance he got," you pointed out.
Yelena's expression was difficult to read. "I'm not so sure about that."
"Hansen would for sure kill me," you said, putting your mask in place carefully. The soft mask of golden sequins fit over your eyes. 
Yelena's gaze dropped at the mention of the name and you were ashamed. You needed to work harder not to bring that up to her. And you needed a subject change. Fast.
"Who's going to be here with Nat tonight?" You weren't surprised Nat didn't want to go. She'd been through so much between the horrific end of her abusive marriage and all trauma of years being left to the sadistic nature of Banner. You wanted to make sure she was well looked after while you and Steve were gone.
"Clint is staying here of course," Yelena said quietly. "Dyson will be here too. He's arranged for extra security for the house tonight."
You nodded your approval. "What about Scott?"
"He's coming with us," Yelena explained. 
You smiled. Scott going had little to do with keeping you and Steve safe and everything to do with spending time with Yelena. You were pretty sure Yelena was aware of Scott's infatuation with her. Would she ever return his affections? You didn't know. Considering her tragic history, you weren't sure she could feel the same way towards him or anyone. But in the time you'd known Scott, you learned he was a good man who always had your back and never once questioned your authority. You trusted him with your life. You trusted him with Yelena too.
But would she ever give him - or anyone - a chance after all she'd been through?
You blew out an exhale, preparing yourself for the night ahead. "I guess we should let Steve know I'm ready."
"He knows," a deep voice caught you and Yelena both off guard. 
Your husband strolled into the bedroom and Yelena stepped back to allow him a clear path to you. He looked breathtakingly handsome in the classic black tuxedo he wore, tailored perfectly to fit his tall, broad-shouldered physique. His tawny hair was perfectly styled, diamond cufflinks winking in the light. His tie was shades of gold and blue to match your gown, a subtle touch but one you appreciated.
Steve moved to stand behind you in the mirror of your vanity, bending to fit his handsome face in the reflection with yours. 
"You look so beautiful," he said with something like reverence in his voice. "I can't wait to show you off."
"I'll be downstairs," Yelena said, making her way out to give you some privacy. "We worked very hard on her, boss. Don't mess her up."
Steve smiled at what he took as a playful warning, his large hands smoothing over your bare shoulders. Slowly, you removed the mask, placing it in your lap with your hands. His watchful gaze didn't miss the slight tremble of their movements.
"Everything is going to be fine," he explained. "I've been to this event before. All the rich, politic elite of Boston come out to dance and drink the night away and wallow in excess. It's probably Tony's favorite night of the year."
You could see it. And you were excited to go to the annual masquerade ball, as Steve's wife and not his trophy, and to enjoy a fabulous night on the town. You felt like Cinderella, going to the ball in the gown that truly looked as if magic had created it.
But you couldn't fight back an impending sense of dread. It had been so quiet in the weeks of your recovery and Steve's. Life went on. You were included in all the family's business meetings. The family business had recovered and was branching out, deals with three of the other four families made things even better. 
Not that you agreed with all of it. You weren't crazy about the loan sharking or protection deals the family made. The casinos and restaurants didn't bother you as much. And at least the family wasn't making any money off drugs or trafficking. Some of the stories about the business and how other families operated you heard now were just horrific. You made up your mind early that no matter what, you'd never allow the family to make money off the misfortunes of women and children. Never.
It had been very quiet where the Barnes family was concerned. Too quiet.
"I'll  be the envy of every man there tonight," he murmured, pressing a kiss into your neck. The soft brush of his beard made you shiver. A sensual smiled curved Steve's lips. "Are you ready?"
You nodded. You trusted your husband. You were going to do your best to have a wonderful night, just like he intended.
And still that little kernel of dread lingered.
You felt like you were in an old Hollywood movie to walk down the staircase on your husband's arm with the gown flowing softly with your movements. Honestly, you were grateful for Steve's help in keeping you balanced, relieved when you made it to the bottom of the stairs.
Dyson, Yelena, Scott, Clint and Nat were a small crowd, watching in admiration as you approached. Nat's smile was all you needed to feel like a princess. Her lovely green eyes lit up as her gaze swept over you. 
"You look perfect," she exclaimed, carefully hugging you. "I knew that gown was the one."
Nat had been the one to find it when the two of you went out shopping for it. And you were all too happy to give her the credit. You knew very little about fashion. You would learn. Until you did, it was nice to have the advice of someone who already understood it.
As Nat stepped back, you forced yourself to smile. She still looked so small, so frail. She had yet to gain weight and regain her amazing figure. Your sister-in-law seemed fragile, even with the protection and love of the man she'd always wanted. Even with the full support and love of her brother. It worried you.
Dyson looked worried too, but as you did, he put on a quick smile. "You two had best get going. The line at dropoff takes forever."
"True enough," Steve said, nodding to Yelena and Scott.
You stopped to hug Dyson. "Keep her safe for me," you whispered.
"You know I will," he muttered.
Steve whisked you away to the sleek black limousine waiting in the driveway. Its glossy, jet-black exterior reflected the fading sunlight with a mirror-like finish. The long, streamlined body stretched gracefully, its tinted windows offering privacy and adding to its air of mystery. Scott climbed in behind the wheel and Yelena rode shotgun as Steve got you into the back seat, helping you keep your gown away from the doors. Once you were settled, you studied your husband. Something was missing.
"Did you bring a mask?" you asked him. 
Steve smiled, pulling a small black mass from inside his tuxedo coat. No sequins, just a matte black mask he could wear. But he wasn't interested in the mask as he fidgeted with it. He was too busy staring at you.
"Are you excited?" he asked.
You couldn't help the smile the question brought on. "Yes."
Steve looked pleased. "As time goes on and things settle down, we'll get out more. Do more things like this. You look like a princess tonight."
Tears pricked at the backs of your eyes at his heartfelt words. He meant them. He was taking you out to a society function, dressed you up like you were going to the fucking Oscars. A night out like nothing you'd ever experienced before. You'd been excited since he told you he got the tickets a few weeks ago.
"There are going to be a lot of people there, sweetheart," Steve explained quietly. "I'm sure Belova went over everything with you. But I need you to listen. You are going to be with me at all times. If you're not with me, you'll be with Belova and Lang. No wandering off to talk to people or sightsee. Okay?"
You nodded. Yelena had covered the plans thoroughly while she helped you get ready for the evening. 
"If I have to talk business for a moment, Belova will be with you. You have to go to the ladies' room, Belova will be with you," he continued. "Take it easy on the drinks. You're not used to alcohol and I need you vigilant tonight. We're going to have a wonderful time but..."
"I understand," you told him. "Besides, I don't want to miss any part of tonight because I'm drinking. It's my first masquerade ball. I'd like to enjoy every minute of it."
The smile Steve flashed you had your heart fluttering in your chest.
"There will be dancing, right?" you asked.
"Of course," he told you. 
"You'll dance with me?" Would Steve dance with you to a beautiful ballad or classic song?
Reaching over, he tipped up your chin with his fingers, his touch careful. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you when you smile at me like that. I love you."
"I love you, too." 
His lips were a teasing brush against your own but in seconds it deepened, filled with longing and need. 
The sharp wrap on the dark glass that separated the two of you in the back seat of the limo from Scott and Yelena up front scared you. Then the glass slid down just a couple of inches. 
"Later," Yelena admonished. "I worked too hard on her for this party, boss."
You froze thinking that was going to piss your husband off but he laughed. "Okay, sorry," he called back to her.
It made you happy. Ever since everything happened that day between your family and Barnes', your husband and your best friend got along a lot better. Steve was kinder to her, treated her with the same respect as he would any of the men in his employ. That being the case, Yelena felt comfortable enough to tease him about things like tonight. She worked hard on carefully picking her moments with him to tease. She did even better at being thoughtful when offering criticism or advice. The fact that they were getting along better just made your life easier.
"That's supposed to be privacy glass," he said, still grinning.
"Or she's just that good at her job." Honestly, she was.
"After the ball," Steve said once the privacy glass has slid back up, "I want you out of that dress. Especially if you want to keep it."
The sly warning had you grinning. "I would like to keep it. It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen."
"Noted," your husband said. "I'll do my best to contain myself until you get the gown to safety."
The heated looks he cut you the entire way into Boston made you wonder if he'd be able to. You couldn't wait to find out.
Once you reached the venue, you saw there was indeed an endless line of limos in the que leading up to the door. It moved surprisingly fast. Within ten minutes, Scott pulled up to the door and Yelena darted out to open the door for you. Before you could reach for her hand, Steve was there, helping you out of the back of the car with ease and ushering you up the carpeted stairs with Yelena behind you. The decorations and festive lighting dazzled you as you moved along on Steve's arm. The way the soft light reflected off the gown you wore made you feel like you were in a fairytale. 
Steve stopped and greeted more than a few gentlemen on the way into the venue. One man you recognized as a senator and the easy way the two men spoke had you curious. Did the senator know who Steve was? Were they old friends? For a moment, the two of them seemed to forget all going on around them. Just as quickly, the senator's gaze fell on you and the handsome older man smiled. 
"Is this your new bride?" the senator asked.
"She is," Steve replied, introducing you with obvious pride. You meant to shake the man's hand. He kissed the back of yours in an old fashioned gesture. You found him completely charming. 
"Have you been to the masquerade before?" the senator asked.
You shook your head. "This is my first one."
The man smiled. "I hope you enjoy tonight. If I get the chance, I'll introduce you to my wife. It's one of her favorite nights of the year."
"I'd like that," you told him. "It was nice to meet you."
Was it your imagination that Steve watched you with such wonder? Once his conversation with the senator ended, he led you further into the venue where the main ballroom was all prepared, looking like a view from a movie set. 
Clusters of elegant tables arranged in a wide horseshoe shape framed the dance floor, each adorned with lavish centerpieces sparkling beneath the soft glow of the majestic chandelier overhead. The chandelier's light cascaded down like a shimmering waterfall, casting a warm, golden hue over the room, making every surface gleam. A full bar stood ready, offering the finest drinks, while an orchestra played a symphony of enchanting melodies, weaving through the air like a spell. The room was a sea of Boston's political powerhouses, movie stars, and the wealthy elite, all dressed in exquisite gowns and tailored suits, their masks concealing only their identities—not their status. As you paused to take it all in, your husband's familiar warmth pressed against your back, grounding you in the moment as the dazzling scene unfolded before your eyes.
"What do you think?" Steve's whisper at your ear made you shiver.
"I love this," you told him with enthusiasm. "Thank you for bringing me tonight."
"You don't have to thank me." Your husband took your hand, looking like a tawny-haired prince in his tuxedo and black mask, and led you to the dance floor. Your surprise must have shown on your face because he laughed as he swept you into his arms at the edge of the dancing crowd and led you in an easy waltz.
Steve was a wonderful dancer much to your surprise. He led you with an easy grace that you delighted in and found easy to keep up with given your own love of dance. You knew you had to be staring at him but he kept you close, enjoying your surprise.
"When did you learn to dance like this?" you had to ask after he twirled you around gracefully. 
"It's not so hard," he said, his attention solely on you. "Not nearly as hard as your type of dancing."
Ballet was discipline but dancing a perfect waltz wasn't easy either. You were impressed. 
"Is this why you got us all dressed up?" you teased. "So you could show off your dancing skills?"
Steve chuckled. "Is there something wrong with wanting to have a magical night with your wife?"
You were delighted. But you knew it wasn't the only reason Steve brought you here. And now that you were involved in the family business, you weren't offended by the other reason the two of you were there.
Not long before he married you, Steve had acquired a prized property on the outskirts of Boston. He'd been so involved with marrying you and taking over the families he'd neglected it for a time. Now his attention was back on it, plans were being made to develop it. Together, you'd decided on an exclusive resort with fine dining, glitzy nightclubs, and a casino for the wealthy. It was a massive investment and to make it work, certain permits would need to be acquired. The senator and a few key businessmen there tonight could make or break the project that would expand your family's wealth. 
It was a very important night for Steve.
He'd be spending some time talking to these gentlemen tonight which is why Yelena and Scott were there, to keep you safe. You really didn't mind. You felt like Cinderella at the ball in the beautiful gown that flowed and captured the light with your movements as you danced with your husband among the wealthy citizens of the city. As the two of you moved through the dance, you caught a glimpse of Yelena, dressed in her dark suit and standing next to Scott, blending into the background. Your best friend's gaze never left you. Scott's never left her. You smiled, enjoying the beauty of the moment, dancing with your husband at your very first masquerade ball.
When the dance came to an end, it took you a moment to realize it. One of the musicians announced the band would take a short break and be back in just a few minutes. Steve's hand at your lower back urged you to turn. The senator making his way towards you with a lovely older lady at his side. 
The senator's wife was polished from head to toe. Her gown was bright pink layers of satin that matched her lipstick. Otherwise her white hair and face gave her a cold countenance, like she was an ice queen dressed for her best guess at spring. Her eyes were dark, small and mean as her gaze swept over you. The senator assured you that you and his wife would have plenty to talk about. As the woman stood there studying you with pursed lips, you decided talking to her probably wasn't the best idea.
Steve's gaze met yours and he nodded as he let the senator lead him away, leaving you with the judgy woman before you.
"This must be a special night for you," she said tartly.
Straightening your spine, you smiled. "Why is that?"
The woman's white brows rose slightly but a smile played about her lips. "You don't belong here."
"Excuse me?" You kept your smile in place.
"My father was a direct descendent from The Mayflower," she informed you. "We're practically royalty here. We built our fortune through hard work and our good name. You, on the other hand, come from poverty and crime. You father crawled out the shadows and robbed good people blind. That's why you have the money to play dress up and act like you belong here. We all know your husband fancies himself some sort of underworld prince. But he doesn't belong here either."
Oh, no, she didn't just put you and your husband down. Lifting your chin, you looked her in the eye.
"Your ancestors came over on a ship over four hundred years ago and nobody cares anymore," you told her. "You can pretend to be royalty, and tell yourself you made your money working hard and protecting your good name. But the sad truth is, your family made your money the same way mine did. In fact, your family probably paid mine to keep from getting your hands dirty or to protect your interests. And my husband is the king of Boston's underworld and so was my father before him. You may be someone in society right now, but your husband is currently anelected official. If you were smart, you'd spending a little more time being respectful."
Gracefully as you could manage, you turned your back to the rude woman and marched off. Yeah, maybe you hurt your husband's chances of getting the permits you needed for the project development once she talked to her husband. But you weren't about to put up with someone like that. 
You looked all around for Yelena. You were dying to tell her about the conversation you'd just had. But you weren't watching where you were going and you collided with someone hard.
And whoever he was, he caught you in his arms, sweeping you out onto the dance floor as another waltz began. He was as tall as your husband and the scent of his expensive cologne was familiar. You realized who held you a beat before he spoke, a low purr by your ear.
"Did you miss me, beautiful?"
Barnes.
Easing back, you glanced up at your uninvited dancing partner, wearing an aura of allure and danger with ease. Barnes' chiseled jawline was partially obscured by the intricately designed black mask he wore, adorned with silver accents catching the light. Those steely-blue eyes were shadowed but still piercing, glinting with a cold intensity as his gaze met yours.
His tuxedo was entirely black and tailored to perfection, hugging his muscular frame effortlessly. His attire seemed to absorb the light, creating a sense that he came from the shadows. Even his shirt was dark onyx, subtle embroidery only revealing itself when he moved. And he felt strong as he held you, solid and healed.
Stop staring at the man and answer.
"I haven't thought about you at all," you told him, trying to sound nonchalant but not quite hitting that note.
As much as you hated to admit it, Barnes was undeniably handsome. From the way his hair was slicked back with precision to the confident smirk curling his lips, the man was... magnetic. But there was a sinister edge beneath the polished surface. There always had been. Barnes' posture was too poised, his movements too calculated. Every inch of him whispered danger, a wolf in the presence of unsuspecting lambs.
Pulling you close to him, Barnes chuckled. "I don't believe that. I think you I live rent free in that beautiful head of yours."
"Maybe," you said, feeling his smile widen. "I do think about how I wished we'd used more poison."
Now he laughed, a deep rich sound. "I don't doubt that."
"What do you want?" You looked anywhere but at him. Still, you were so focused on the predator that held you, you weren't really seeing your surroundings. The music, the lights, everything else seemed to fade into the background.
"What do you think I want?" Barnes asked.
As Barnes swept you around the floor, your mind scrambled for a comeback. "Your hands around my throat," you said, going with honesty. "And me dead?"
Leaning in, he ran his nose gently up the column of your neck, making you shiver. "Oh, I did. I really did. And I could have made that happen."
You were dangerously close to having him think he had the upper hand here. "No, you couldn't."
Again, he chuckled. "You've got it all figured out, don't you?" Releasing you only long enough to spin you in the dance, he pulled you back into him tightly. "You made peace with your husband. You're now involved in the family business. I would call Steve a pussy for even thinking about that if it were any other woman. But you're not just any woman. But you're special."
You missed a step in your alarm. How the hell did Barnes know you were in the all the family business meetings now? And that you and Steve had made peace? The questions triggered your anxiety, reminding you of the days early in your marriage when Neal had been Barnes' rat and you were always looking over your shoulder. Was someone else talking to Barnes?
"A long time ago, your mother seduced my father," Barnes whispered. "She tore my family apart. And when you came along and you weren't the poor disfigured little girl we were told you were, I assumed you were a little whore like your mother. You look almost exactly like her. Has anyone told you that?"
You didn't answer, trying hard to put a little space between the two of you. Where was Steve? It wouldn't be too conspicuous if he broke in on the dance. If Yelena or Scott came to save you, it could create a scene and unwanted attention. 
"I even thought maybe, horrible thought I know," Barnes went on, "that you might be my half-sister. But it didn't take me long to realize that wasn't true either. Besides, that devious little mind in there, hidden behind all that beauty? You didn't get that from your mother. Or my father."
"What's it to you?" you snapped at him, trying to pull off pissed even though you held anger and fear in equal measure. "I'm Steve's wife. He's your boss. You'd do well to remember that."
Barnes was unfazed. "You're Steve's wife. For now. But he can't handle you." Barnes leaned closer, his gaze locking with yours. "You should belong to someone stronger."
Now you really were getting pissed. "I don't need you or any man, including my husband, to tell me who I am and what I should be doing," you said.
"You may be right," he purred. "But it's that attitude, that fire. It got me thinking... I had the wrong idea about you from the beginning. Yeah, all the bitterness from the past clouded my judgment for a while. I wanted you dead and buried next to your loser husband." When you tried to pull free of him, he tightened his grip. His grin widened. "Now I realize you're exactly what I need."
"For what?" You didn't know how much of your glare he got from behind your mask.
"To finally take my rightful place," he said as if it were gospel. "The position occupied by your current husband."
Current husband? Who the fuck did he think he was?
"Our children will be kings and queens," Barnes went on. "That dynasty would rule Boston for decades."
"My children with Steve will rule Boston," you told him angrily. "And when we're done with you, no one will even remember the Barnes family."
"One day," he said with meaning, leaning closer, "you'll be mine."
Despite yourself, you shivered. Barnes caught it.
"You want me too," he whispered. "I'll make you admit it."
As the song neared its end, you were prepared to do whatever you had to do to get away from the bastard, the man who'd done so much damage to your family. As the last strains of the symphony ended, Barnes released you to bow. You did curtsy to him, then you straightened.
"I will never be yours." You meant it with every fibre of your being. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find my husband."
Barnes' grin didn't fade. "Better find a way to keep him safe."
You spun on your heel, marching off the dance floor. You needed air, and a moment to calm down. You were blinking back tears, you were that angry. You felt someone on your heels as you made you way out of the main event room out ornate glass doors left open. It was chilly out there but you welcomed it, fighting back anger.
"Are you okay?" Yelena asked, her hand at your back as you gripped the railing and hung on. 
"No, I'm not... o-fucking-kay," you said, trying to regain your composure. "He came out of nowhere."
"He did," Yelena said. "He got to you so quickly after you talked to the senator's wife."
"Where's Steve?" you asked.
"Talking very intently to the senator," she replied. "It appears to be going well."
You had to wonder if that would still be true once the senator's wife caught a moment to tell her husband and your little "talk."
But you had bigger problems right now. Barnes.
"Barnes is all healed up," you told her. Looking beyond her, you saw Scott by the entranceway back into the ball. "And he's got big plans."
"He wants you," Yelena said it. "That much was obvious. It gives me some idea of his plans."
You nodded. "Don't say anything to Steve or Scott right now. I just want to find a glass of champagne to take the edge off and get through the rest of the ball."
With any luck, you could maybe enjoy one more magical dance with Steve before the evening ended.
You couldn't, however, complain. You wanted to be in on the family business and this was part of it. Barnes, unfortunately, was also part of it.  And he'd just announced his intentions to you and you realized now it was the pit that had been in your stomach the entire evening. 
Barnes would keep tearing your life apart until he was stopped. Somehow between his drastic plans and the animosity between you and your husband, you'd found your way to a happy marriage. A path to be queen in this world. And you'd be damned if you let Barnes threaten that future.
"You're going to tell Steve, right?" 
"I am." You didn't miss the concern in Yelena's voice. "I'm telling all of you. But not here."
Nodding her agreement, Yelena watched as you straightened, steeled yourself to return to the event. 
"Let's find you a glass of champagne, boss," she said with a wink.
Boss? Now that put the smile back on your face. 
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arlana-likes-to-write · 5 months
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Sins of the Family
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Part 3 of Family and Pawns
Warnings: car accident, mention of death and grief, kidnapping, implied sexual assault, mention of suicide, suicidal thoughts, mention of past sexual assault, death, usage of a fire arm, angst with a happy ending, everyone needs a hug and no one is okay
Note: This is maybe the last story of this AU unless I get a request for another part.
Word Count: 10k (I don't want to talk about how long this)
“Cooper!” You shirked as the eldest Barton shot you with a water gun. It was an all out water war between you, Tommy, and Billy against the three Bartons plus Kate and Yelena. The twins thought it was unfair that the two Avengers were on the same time but the Black Widow has to remind them that they were enhanced, they did it so the teams would be more even. Speaking of your brother, Tommy ran behind Cooper and dumped a bucket of water on him. Before the eldest Barton could turn around, he was gone.
“Hey!” He whipped the water out of his eyes. “I thought we said no powers.” Tommy appeared next to you.
“That’s what you get for targeting our sister,” he held up his fist and you pumped it against his.
“Kids, lunch is ready.” Laura called out. You liked Iowa. It was quiet, peacefully, and the Bartons were welcoming. You sat next to Nate with a towel wrapped around your shoulders. Natasha warned you that the youngest Barton would probably be quiet, still processing the death of his father.
“So, what do you want to do after we eat?” You asked. He shrugged, biting into his hot dog. It was just you and the young boy at the table while everyone was pilling food onto their plate. “Can I tell you a secret?” You whispered to him. Nate slowly nodded his head. “It’s okay to be happy and still miss you.” You saw his little body tense up but he still refused to look at you. “It’s okay to be angry with him,” you continued. “And still love him.” A small whimper left his mouth and your heart broke for him. You wished you could take away all of his pain. You would take it all away if you could.
“It’s okay to be angry with Nat and be glad she’s alive because he is no longer here.” It was like the dame broke. You saw his body shake as quiet tear fell down his cheeks. You panicked, body frozen as he dropped his hot dog and climbed onto your lap. His face pushed against your damp shirt and you felt his tears. You glanced up and saw Laura, wide eyes and about to walk over to her emotionally distraught son but you held up her hand to stop her. “I’m going to pick up. Okay, buddy?” He tightened his grip on you. You stood up from the table, your towel fell to the ground, and you walked over to the swing that was handing from the tree.
This was what he needed. Someone to let himself cry without adding to their own grief. So you let him cry against you as you pushed yourself on the swing. “I’m sorry,” he said once his tears stopped. You forced him to look at you. There was snot running down his nose and his cheeks were blotchy.
“Hey, little man, it’s okay to cry. It’s okay for your feelings to be all over the place but we are here for you. Whatever you need,” he nodded and rested his head back on your chest.
“Does it get easier?” That was the million dollar question. You met an older lady while you took a walk during your lunch. She asked about your family not knowing the truth. While she learned about your parents, she told you about her late husband. You asked her the same question. She told you a metaphor that her therapist told her. Your grief was like a red button instead a box with a ball that rolled around. Since the grief was newer the ball would hit the button all the time, no matter what you were doing your grief was powerful. You felt it in everything you did.
Over time, the box got bigger and the grief stayed the same size but it wouldn’t hit the button all the time. You sighed, kissing the crown of his head. “Yeah,” you whispered. “It gets easier.”
*
“Remember,” Wanda said, glancing at you and the twins. “Billy, you need to bring in your permission slip. Tommy, we have to go to the mall and get you new shoes,” the twins nodded their heads. “And you have a meeting with the home school agency. Did you finish your essay?” You glanced over the book you were reading. The trip to Iowa was done and it was time to head back to reality which meant starting home school. The couple asked if you wanted to attend another school but the incident with Henry and Coach Griffo made you lose faith in the schooling system. Home school was the best option for you and they agreed.
“I finished it before we left for Iowa.”
“Atta girl,” Natasha winked at you from the driver’s seat.
“Nerd,” Tommy mumbled with a smile on his face. You rolled your eyes, bumping your shoulder against his.
“Dork,” you countered. You were an only child for the longest time it was such a nice change to mess with someone.
“Children,” Natasha warned but before she could continue her scolding. You heard the impact before you felt in. Instinct kicked in and you braced yourself for the impact, your body tensed with fear.
The collision was violent, the force of the impact threw you forward. You felt the searing pain shoot through your body. For a moment, everything seemed to spin, the world titled at an impossible angle. The sound of the twins screams echoed in your ears. Once the car settled, your vision was blurry but you saw Wanda and Natasha with their heads to the side. They weren’t moving. You tried to look at the twins but a sheering pain caused black spots to cover your vision. A soft whimper left your lips and the world went dark.
*
You heard a soft voice calling out to you. She was saying your name over and over again to urge you to wake up. You were so tired. It seemed easier to keep your eyes closed and sleep but the voice was persistent, a little annoying. It kept getting louder and louder until it was impossible to ignore. “Mama,” you gasped awake. Your chest was heaving, eyes darted around the foreign room. You groaned softly as the pain of the car accident caught up with you. You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. Your hands were cuffed to metal chains that were attached to the wall. The room was four walls with two doors; one of them was boarded up with wood.
In the corner, you saw Tommy. His hands were free from restraint but a collar was around his neck. “Tommy,” you called out. “Tommy, wake up.” You said a bit louder. Still he laid still, on his stomach. “Come on. This isn’t funny wake up,” you pleaded, desperation oozing from each word. Finally, he groaned. “Oh thank you,” you said, your head leaning back against the wall.
“My head hurts,” he wined, rolling onto his back. It took a moment but he sat up quickly. “What happened?”
“We were in a car accident. I don’t know where we are,” he stumbled to his feet. “Easy,” but he ignored you, wrapped his hands around the chains, and pulled. They weren’t moving. “Tommy, stop. You are going to hurt yourself.” He shook his head.
“I can get you out,” he pulled at them again. “I can get us out and we can go home!” He fell to his butt with a huff. “What’s around your neck?”
“Probably the same thing around yours,” Tommy reached around his neck to touch the collar. You stood up and found out you could reach the mattress but not the door. You sat down and opened your arms, there was a sharp pain in your shoulder. Tommy took the opportunity to lay in your lap.
“They are going to find us,” he looked up at you. “Right?”
“Yeah,” you smiled. “Or we’ll get out of here by our self.”
*
Natasha was barely listening to Sam as he spoke with local police and Yelena and Kate were looking at the car crash. Her eyes were on her wife and Billy as they sat on the back of an ambulance. The EMT was cleaning a cut on Billy’s head and his arm was in a sling to help his shoulder. Wanda seemed untouched but Natasha had a faint memory of her wife’s magic wrapping around the car before she blacked out. She wanted Helen to do a check up on him when they were done here. “Thank you officer,” Sam said. Natasha turned back into the conversation. “Are you sure you don’t want to get checked out?”
“I’m fine,” she wasn’t really. It was taken every fiber in her body to not lose it. Her daughter and son were taken right from underneath her nose. By focusing on the pain radiating through her body she wasn’t going to lose her cool. Her sister and Kate walked over to them. “What do we know?” She asked.
“It was one van that hit your car,” Kate handed her a tablet with a feed of the car accident. “Then two more vans showed up and took Y/n and Tommy.” Natasha watched as two men existed their car and ran to the back of the car to get you and Tommy. Why didn’t they take Billy?
“The plates were stolen but we are having Peter check out the original owners,” Yelena said, taking the tablet from Natasha. “We know this was planned. They never looked at the camera so we can’t run facial recognition..”
“So we have nothing on who took my kids.”
“We will find them, Nat,” Sam said. “You have my word but we need to get you, Wanda, and Billy back to the tower where it’s safe. We don’t know if they’ll come back,” that made Natasha’s blood run cold. She couldn’t let them take anyone else.
“Okay,” she said.
“Kate and I will drive you back,” Natasha nodded and walked over to the ambulance. Her body ached but she put on a smile as she got closer.
“Hey bud,” she whispered. “How are you?” Billy shrugged, not looking up at the Black Widow. Natasha frowned, looking at the witch. ‘He hasn’t spoken,’ Wanda’s voice echoed in her head. Natasha nodded. “We are gonna head to the tower with Auntie Lena and Aunt Kate, okay?” Billy nodded, jumping off the back and head over to his aunts. But the young boy didn’t reach out for comfort from his aunts. Instead, he walked right past them to the car. Natasha sighed, feeling her wife grab her hand.
“You haven’t gotten checked out, moya lyubov’ (my love),” Wanda said.
“I’m fine,” but she knew she couldn’t lie to Wanda as easily as she did with Sam. Wanda stopped walked. “Wanda-” Natasha pleaded.
“This is not your fault, okay?” Natasha looked at her sister. Yelena was leaning against the car, trying to get Billy to talk. “And I will remind you that at every step. We will find them and Billy will be okay,” Natasha surged forward capturing Wanda’s lips into a kiss. The kiss was frantic, messy as Natasha hung onto Wanda.
“I can’t lose you,” she whispered against Wanda’s lips.
“You won’t. I’m here. I’m right here.”
*
You let Tommy fall asleep, resting between your legs and you ran your fingers through his hair. You wanted to close your eyes and sleep but you couldn’t. What if when you closed your eyes and the door opened and they came in to take your brother? So you sat and replayed moments in your head. The first time you met the Romanoff-Maximoff family and the night the couple told you they wanted to adopt you. They were going to find you. Until then you had to be strong and protect Tommy.
Finally, you heard the door unlock and slowly open. The sound caused Tommy to stir awake but you kept your arms around him as 3 men walked in; two were carrying bowls. “Food,” the man up front said. He was Russian and the men behind him set the bowls near the mattress. But you both didn’t move. “You are going to need your strength.”
“What do you want with us?” You asked. He didn’t answer, instead he gestured to the man on his left and he walked over to you. He ribbed Tommy from your arms. “No!” You jumped to your feet but the man held your brother by his throat and put a gun to his temple. “Please don’t hurt him.” Tommy struggled against his capture but it made no difference.
“Let me make myself perfectly clear,” he stepped forward. “When I say you eat, you eat. When I say jump, you ask how high. Your brother’s life is my hands, do you understand my malen’kaya ten’ (little shadow)?” You glanced at Tommy.
“I understand,” the man holding your brother threw him to the ground. Before you could help, the man grabbed onto your chin to force you to look at him.
“He is collateral,” he said. “I won’t hesitate to kill him if you disobey me.” You nodded and he let you go. You ran over to Tommy and he assured you he was okay as the three men left.
“Do you know them?” He asked. You shook your head. You didn’t, you’ve never seen those men in your life.
“But he definitely knew me,” you sat back on the mattress with the bowl. It was a soup of some kind.
“He called you little shadow,” he said, sitting next to you with his bowl in his lap. Little shadow. Your spoon stopped in mid air. You hadn’t thought about that nickname in months since Jason was killed. “Do you want this?” He asked, holding up his bowl. “I don’t like it.” You laughed at the scrunch of his nose.
“Eat it,” you said, taking a spoonful of your own. It wasn’t bad just bland compared to Wanda’s flavorful cooking. “I think he’s right when he said we’ll need our strength.”
*
Wanda hated this. This intense feeling of worthlessness as she had no idea where her son and daughter were or who took them. She couldn’t even help her other son who hasn’t spoken or eaten since the accident. He was shutting her out and that scared her even more. “But why not take all three of your kids?” Maria asked. The available Avengers met at the tower to come together to find you and Tommy. They were in the conference room while Pepper and Happy watched Billy and Morgan. She hated being away from him but he didn’t need to be here for this. “If they want to hurt you, why did they just take Y/n and Tommy?” It was a good question and one Wanda couldn’t answer. Natasha and her made a lot of enemies throughout their time as Avengers. The list was long.
“Maybe it’s not about us,” Natasha said, picking at the skin around her thumb. Wanda grabbed her hand to stop her. “Have we found anything about Jason?” Tony pulled up the hologram of the man that took advantage of you. The sight still made Wanda’s blood boil.
There wasn’t much they knew about the man that could help them. Only child, whose parents divorced when he was a kid, and his father was in and out of rehab facilities. He was in extreme debt and unemployed. At his last job, he suffered a shoulder injury which allowed him to cash in disability checks.
“What about her parents?” Yelena asked. “Jason must have known them. There was no way them meeting was a coincidence,” she had a good point. Tony put up two holograms of your parents. You rarely spoke about them. Maybe it hurt to much to think about them. Your parents were Daniel and Harper. In 2018, two months after Thanos exterminated half of all living things. Harper was diagnosed with cancer. It seemed so unfair how much pain your family was subjected to in a short amount of time. Your mother was a house keeper while your father worked in construction. They were living pay check to paycheck since Harper was out of work while she received treatment from a Dr. Joshua Harris. Unfortunately, Harper’s treatment wasn’t successful. She passed away. Your father took his own life two months after his wife passed. In three years, you would return and your parents were gone.
“We are missing something,” Natasha stood up suddenly. “If they were being blackmailed or were involved in something there wouldn’t be a paper trail.”
“Nat is right,” Sam said. “Yelena, Kate go talk to Harper‘s doctor maybe he can tell us something.” The duo stood up to leave the room, Yelena squeezed Natasha’s shoulder before they left. “Peter, Maria, and Bucky will try to find an angel on ().” A plan was made. It wasn’t a lot but it was something. Natasha and Wanda left to go find Billy. He was laying on the couch, watching Morgan play with her dolls.
“Hey,” Wanda said, sitting down next to him. “Have you eaten anything?” He shook his head.
“Why don’t I make some mac and cheese?” Natasha suggested. Billy brightened up slightly.
“And a hot dog,” The Black Widow smiled.
“Anything for you, bud,” she walked into the kitchen.
“How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?” Helen gave all three of them a clean bill of health besides the normal ache and pains. Bill frowned, moving to rest his head on her lap. “Talk to me, dorogoy (sweetheart). Please.” She ran her fingers through his hair.
“I can’t feel them, mam,” he whispered. “I keep trying but I don’t know where they are. I-,” his voice cracked. “That’s what hurts mama. I want them home.” Wanda saw the signs of Billy’s powers getting out of control. They were similar in that sense when their emotions got overwhelming their powers were unpredictable. It was a work in process to help him contain it. The witch forced Billy to sit up and moved him so he sat on her lap, his chest against hers.
“Breath, Billy. I need you to breath.”
“I can’t,” he gasped and his hands twisted in the fabric of Wanda’s shirt.
“Yes, you can,” Wanda kept her voice soft. She watched Natasha walk over with the plate of food. She almost dropped it at the state of Billy was in. “Your mom and I got you,” Wanda held out her hand for Natasha to grab. She put the food down and took her hand. Gently, Wanda placed Natasha’s hand on their son’s back and traced soothing circles. “Just focus on us.” Wanda began to hum, a simple lullaby she would sign to them when they were babies. It seemed to work. She felt Billy slump against her and his breathing calmed down.
“You are doing so good, bud.” Natasha said, locking eyes with Wanda. If there was one thing Wanda loved about Natasha it was her eyes. They were so expressive. Even when her face was so stoic, her eyes gave away so much.
“It’s okay,” Wanda smiled. “Everything is going to be okay.” She said it for all three of them. Everything was going to be okay.
*
When the door opened again, you and Tommy were playing Concentration. It was the same man from before. He walked over to you, twirling a key in his hand. He grabbed onto your hands and unlocked the cuffs. “Come with me,” you rubbed at your wrists. “Both of you.” You stood up and the two men grabbed Tommy. “You can call me, Dmitri, okay?” He put his arm around your shoulder as the two men walked out of the room. “We had a mutual friend. Do you know who?” Outside the room, you call tell you were in an abounded hospital. Empty beds with rusted frames sat against the peeling walls, the mattresses long gone or decayed. The air was heavy with the scent of dust and decay. The doors that weren’t locked shut were hanging off the hinges. Your small group weren’t the only ones in the hallway but the ignored you, focused on their task of cleaning.
At the nurse station, the desk was covered in a thick layer of dust, and the files lie scattered and forgotten. Some of the signs still hung on the wall but were faded, their messages no longer conveyed a feeling of hope.
“Jason,” you finally replied.
“Oh she is smart,” he teased. “He was a good man, more loyal to his cock then the cause,” he squeezed your shoulder and the soup you ate turned in your stomach. They brought you into a room. It was a stark contrast to the rest of the hospital. The room was well kept with multiple screens and a generator in the corner. There were weapons scattered against the tables set up. It was eerily silent besides a man typing away at the computer. Your brother was forced into a chair and metal restraints were put on his legs and arms. “Are you ready for your mission, malen’kaya ten’?” You glanced at Tommy.
“I am,” you whispered. Dmitri handed you a tactical suit, similar to the one you’ve seen Natasha ware.
“Change into this,” you took it from him and hesitated. “Change now.” Your hands shook as you took off the clothes you decided to wear on the trip home from the Bartons, simple tracksuit that Kate bought for you. You weren’t blind to the way Dmitri’s eyes racked up and down your body. His footsteps moved behind you and he grabbed the zipper and zipped it up. His hands landed on your shoulders. “Good girl,” Dmitri whispered the name as if it was a secret for only you and him. The name caused your stomach to turn. “This is for you,” it was a com and you put it in your ear. “You and I are going for a little ride and you will listen to every word I say,” he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at Tommy. The sudden movement caused you to stumble into him and his free arm wrapped around your waist, trapping you from moving. “If you don’t your baby brother’s brains will be splattered all over that wall.”
“I understand,” you said. “Can I give him a hug?” He thought about it.
“Make it quick. I’m not a monster,” You walked over to Tommy and hugged him tight.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” you whispered.
“Same to you,” you kissed the top of his head and walked over to the man. He said he wasn’t a monster but that was up for some debate. Delete Created with Sketch.
“Where are we going?” You asked. He blindfolded you the minute he lead you out of the building. Being in the backseat of a car was nauseating as you tried to make sense of the turns but it was impossible.
“We are almost there,” your leg began to shake but you felt his hand on your thigh. Automatically your body tensed up. “It’s okay, malen’kaya ten’, I won’t hurt you.”
“You see why I find it hard to believe,” you said. “I thought Jason wasn’t going to hurt me and we both know how that ended.” He removed his hand and your body relaxed.
“We’re here,” the car stopped and blindfold was removed from your eyes. The sun caused you to wince and it took a minute for your eyes to adjust to the harsh light. “We are at the office of Dr. Harris,” you didn’t recognize the name. “You are going to sneak into his office and place this listening device somewhere he won’t find it,” you took the device from him. “Then you will use this on his computer and it will copy all of the files, it will take 15 seconds.”
“How do you expect me to sneak in with this stupid collar on?” You asked. He pulled out a key and took it off. A weight that was on your chest was lifted off. He put a small camera on your chest.
“Remember what I have,” you sighed.
“I do,” you fazed through the car. You kept your powers on as you walked over to the office and walked through the door. You stood in a small entry way with a door in front of you and on your right. A metal sign displayed each specialties the office offered. Dr. Harris’ office was through the door in front of you and he was a medical oncologist. You frowned, ignored the tight knot that formed in your stomach, and moved onto the next door.
It was a simple waiting room, there was a few patients in the chairs. the receptionist was speaking with a young woman through the glass that separated them. The patient had a beanie that covered her head. It was no use to stay and listen to the conversation that was happening so you moved past the nurse that opened the door to call the next patient.
Lucky, there was signs that pointed you in the right direction. However, your feet stopped when you passed a large open area. There was a nurse station on one wall and spread across the room were chairs; some empty. But the people that were in those chairs were attached to IVs. Curiously, you walked towards the nurse station and read the pamphlets they had out. 20 different recipes to eat try during Chemotherapy. What is radiation? How to overcome it? You were in a cancer center.
‘Ah,’ Dmitri said. ‘I forgot you weren’t around to see your mommy sub come to the horrible disease,’ When you were younger, your parents saved enough money to take you to Cooney Island. All the kids at school talked about riding a roller coaster and how cool it was. So you were anxious to go on it. You were nervous and your parents kept saying you did not have to go on it. That no matter what you were their brave girl. You went on it and hated every second of it. The way your stomach dropped at each turn made you sick. You were experiencing that same feeling now. ‘Continue, my little shadow,’ he said. ‘His office is down the hall.’ You nodded and walked that way. The sooner you were done, the faster you could be back with Tommy, safe in the 4 wall cell. Safe wasn’t the correct word you would use but it was better than be separated. You fazed through the doctor’s door. He was sitting at his desk, typing away at his computer. Bookshelf’s were behind him, decorated with pictures of different families. ‘You are gonna have to get him to leave.’ You rolled your eyes. Easier said then done, you thought, how the hell were you going to do that?
As if someone heard your prayer a knock came to the doctor’s door. “Come in,” you moved to the corner as the door opened and the receptionist you saw enter.
“Two Avengers are here to speak with your,” you froze and stomach flipped. Avengers. Two Avengers were here. Your family. ‘Don’t,’ the man hissed in your ear. ‘Don’t forget what I have.’ Oh you didn’t but maybe you could get their attention.
“Of course, please send them right in,” the doctor stood up and straightened the white coat he was wearing. The door opened wider as Kate and Yelena walked in.
“Dr. Harris,” Kate said, extending her hand for the doctor to take. “Kate Bishop and this is Yelena Belova. Thank you for meeting us.” The doctor shook her hand. He went to shake Yelena’s but the blonde refused and sat down in the chair.
“Of course. Anything I can do to help the Avengers,” he sat down and kept his eyes mostly on Kate. You could tell he was intimidate by the Black Widow. You had to stop yourself from laughing. You moved to the window ledge and leaned against it. “What is this about?”
“A former patient of yours,” Kate said. “Does the name Harper Myers ring a bell?” That was your mom’s name. Your stomach dropped. It had been a long time since you’ve heard someone say it.
“The Myers,” he spun around in his chair to look at his wall of pictures. He stood up to grab a frame and looked it over before handing it over to Kate with a sad smile. “They were lovely people,” you walked over to the couple as Kate handed the photo to Yelena. “They had a daughter that I never got to meet her.” You looked at the picture over Yelena’s shoulder. It was a picture of your mom, dad, and you as a baby. They took you o a local mall to see Santa Claus. You were crying, not very happy that a stranger was holding you. Yelena handed the photo back to the doctor but turned to look over her shoulder. Her eyes bore into yours and you held your breath.
“Can you tell us about the Myers?” Kate asked. Yelena turned around slowly. You let out a shaky breath and walked back to the widows. ‘You are toeing a dangerous line,’ Dmitri hissed in your ear.
“The Myers were hardworking people. Harper was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer in 2018. It was a miracle she survived as long as she did.” You clenched your jaw and crossed your arms, hugging yourself for some sort of comfort.
“Did you notice any abnormal behavior?” Kate asked. “Besides the obvious going through a cancer diagnosis.” The doctor leaned forward, resting his hands on his chin.
“I take patient confidentiality very seriously,” he said. “Even after death, they are entitled to the same level of respect. So I will ask again, what is this about?”
“Their daughter was kidnapped,” it was the first time Yelena has spoken. “We are searching every possible option to find her.” You watched the doctor’s face pale.
“Is this about the money?” The couple glanced at each other.
“What money?” The doctor sighed and pulled open a drawer. It took him a moment to find what he was looking for. Soon he handed the couple a folder.
“They were struggling financially to cover the cost of the treatment,” you stayed still not wanting to alert Yelena again. “Daniel’s job offered insurance but it barely covered the cost of the treatment plan Harper would need. Out billing department told them they then they came to me and refused treatment. I pleaded with them to reconsider, that I would help them find a way to pay for it. But they refused,” he sighed. Kate placed the file back on his desk.
“But they got the money?” She questioned. The doctor nodded.
“They came back two days later and said they liked to continue with the treatment. I believe Daniel said they got the money from his sister who passed away.” You frowned. Your dad was an only child.
“Did not find that suspicious?” The blonde asked.
“Of course I did but my job is try to save patients lives. I find the monetary part of my job pointless. If I could give treatment to everyone free of charge then I would.”
“Thank you for your time doctor,” Kate said. “Can you show us to your billing department?” Dr. Harris stood up without a word and walked to the door. The couple followed him but Yelena hesitated and looked towards you. “Sweetheart,” the archer said. “Are you okay?” Yelena nodded.
“Yeah,” she said. “Just,” you know I’m here, you thought, I’m here. I’m here. “It’s nothing.” The Black Widow grabbed her hand. Once they left, Dr. Harris closed the door.
‘Hurry up,’ Dmitri said. You walked over his desk and placed the flash drive into the tower. You watched as a loading boar appeared on the screen and began to count up.
“What are you doing?” You asked. The man laughed.
‘We found you through the lovely doctor,’ he said. ‘Can you imagine who else we can have? Especially when hundreds of families are as desperate as yours were.’ The bar was full and you pulled the flash drive out. ‘You did well,’ he said as you walked through the doctor’s door. ‘I’m impressed with your level of submission,’ he chuckled. ‘I thought you’d fight more.’
You wanted to fight. You wanted to kick and scream and go home but how could you. You were tied down to Dmitri as he held your brother over your head. You moved through the front door but stopped.
“We could follow the money,” Kate said. “Have FRIDAY trace the account.” The Black Widow nodded. “Hey, what’s wrong? You’ve been off.” Yelena sighed.
“We are no closer to finding her,” she admitted. “I’m worried.” Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. There was a part of you that feared they would hear it.
‘Move,’ he ordered but you couldn’t. ‘I will kill him.’ He would. You knew he could but your feet felt glued to the spot. ‘One more chance or your brother’s brains will be all over the wall.’
“We will bring her home,” Kate smiled. “Then we’ll never let her go.” They made the choice for you as the couple walked over to where their car was parked. You sighed, finally walking over to the van. The door opened and you materialized as he grabbed you and pulled in. He pinned you to the opposite door, hand loosely around your neck. You felt his breath on your face. “Do you need to be taught a lesson?” The pressure of his hand tightened on your throat. It was getting harder to get air through your lungs.
“No,” you whispered. “No, sir. It won’t happen again.” You were transported back to whenever Jason was upset with you. You took the flash drive out of your pocket. “I did what you wanted,” you reminded him. His eyes flickered to yours and the flash drive. The pressure let up and you sucked in air. He tightened the collar back around your neck and took the flash drive from you. Before he pulled away from you, he kissed your cheek and whispered, “Good girl,” in your ear.
You felt sick, bile creeping up your throat as the car began to drive. It didn’t take long until you were blindfolded again and your leg started to shake.
*
“That’s all we get out of him,” Kate said, ending their debrief on what they found out about the doctor. It wasn’t a lot but Natasha was certain they found you and your family through the doctor. Sam must have agreed as the direction of the conversation shifted to find the link. But the Black Widow wasn’t listening even though it was important. Her attention was on her sister, who was abnormally quiet. She let Kate do a majority of the talking, adding a comment here or there. Now she was quiet, resting her hand on her chin. When the meeting was over, Yelena left quickly. “Hey,” Natasha called out to her. “What’s going on?” Yelena slowed down, allowing her to catch up.
“Something didn’t feel right while we were there,” Yelena said, glancing at her sister. “It was like,” she paused and Natasha allowed her the time to process her thoughts. “Like we were being watched.”
“Were they there?” Did the people who had you and Tommy know they would check there? Yelena sighed, shrugging her shoulders.
“Maybe I don’t know,” With your and Tommy’s enhancements, you were a deadly combination. “It doesn’t hurt to scrub through security footage to find out.”
*
You heard your name being called out and your eyes fluttered open. Dmitri was back. For the first time, he was alone. His guard dogs weren’t insight. “How did you sleep?” He asked, handing you and Tommy a bowl of the same food you ate earlier.
“Well considering the circumstances,” you said, taking a bite. It tasted better than before. “What do we owe the pleasure?” He sat down in front of you, legs crossed and elbows resting on his knees.
“Your sister is pretty incredible,” he said to Tommy. Your brother leaned into your side. “She’s very protective over you, isn’t she?”
“She is,” Tommy whispered. The man smiled.
“What do you want?” You asked again.
“All will be explained but first eat,” you and Tommy both did as he asked and when your bowls were empty, you placed them down and he offered you his hand. Hesitantly, you took it and he pulled you to your feet. Unlike before he put his arm around Tommy and the 3 of you walked down the hallway. His hand was on your waist, a possessive grip that you couldn’t break away. When you entered the room before, his guard dogs were next to the chair. You changed into the suit, put the com in your ear, and hugged Tommy tight.
This time when you were brought to the car, there was no blind fold. Did he see your submissiveness as loyalty? You weren’t sure but the grip he had on you moved to your thigh instead of your hip. It was night but you couldn’t track the turns and stops with his hand on you. “Where are we going?” You finally asked.
“You’ll find out soon enough. Just relax,” he put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into him. “Why are you so tense?” He asked. “Is this not okay?”
“It’s fine,” you tried to relax but your skin felt like it was burning. You let out a shaky breath and placed your arm on his thigh.
“You and I are going to do amazing things,” he said and tried to fight the shiver that ran down your spine.
“I don’t even know what your goal is,” he chuckled, resting his head on top of yours.
“Perform well tonight and I’ll tell you everything.”
The van stopped a block away from a warehouse. “There are 4 guards,” he showed you a security footage of instead the warehouse on a tablet. “I need you to go inside, disable and erase the security footage, kill the guards, and open the doors for our team.”
“Kill,” you whispered. The other things you could muddle through. But killing innocent people, you weren’t sure if you could do that. He handed you a pistol with a silencer. “I don’t kill people.” Each word you spoke shook with your nerves.
“You killed Jason,” that was true but that was out of self-defense. If you didn’t kill him, he was going to kill you. “It’s rather simple,” he maneuvered your hand to attach the gun to your hip. “But the gun to their heads,” he used his finger to lift your head. Your eyes locked onto his. “And blow their brains out. Simple.” There was nothing simple about it. “Are you ready?” You weren’t. All the color drained from your face. Could he hear how fast your heart was beating? “I asked if you were ready, my little shadow.” His face was in the crock of your neck. You felt the vibration of his words against your skin, causing your hairs to stand up. You weren’t ready. But if you failed or disobeyed what would happen? Would they go after Billy? Or maybe Nathaniel? Lila? Or Cooper? You couldn’t risk the safety of your family. His lips grazed your pulse. You nodded, licking your lips.
“I’m ready.”
*
“It’s the same van,” Natasha said to the Avengers with screenshots of traffic footage behind her. It took her, Yelena, and Kate hours to scrub through the footage. At first they found nothing but soon they noticed a black van, always changing license plates and they could never see the driver. They were good which worried Natasha. They weren’t amateur kidnappers. They were professionals but they made a mistake, well 2 mistakes. “The color of the van looks black but it isn’t. The color is sable and only 2 car shops in the city carry that color.”
“We pulled the records of those names and almost reached a dead end but Yelena found our connection,” the blonde smiled and changed the screen to a single white patch.
“What is that?” Maria asked.
“It’s a nicotine patch to help people quit smoking. A majority of them can be bought over the counter but others require a prescription,” Yelena explained. “We cross listed the list from the detail shops with those who have a prescription and he found,” the screen changed again to a man. “A Lucas Bennett.”
“Mr. Bennett has a history of gambling and drinking away his money but he also visited Dr. Harris.”
“Where is he now?” Sam questioned.
“FRIDAY is already pulling up current employers and addresses. It’s just a waiting game,” Natasha said, looking at Wanda. Her hand rested on her chin. “We find him he will lead us to Tommy and Y/n.” She said it convince Wanda and herself. They were so close to finding her other kids.
“Miss. Romanoff, I’ve located Mr. Bennett.” She looked at Sam.
“FRIDAY send us the location,” he said. “Avengers Assemble.”
*
You hated this. Your palms were sweat as you held the pistol. On quiet feet you walked through the warehouse to the first guard. A mantra echoed in your head and you were surprised it was Yelena’s voice- ‘I know exactly who you are. A hero. A protector. A sister.’ At this very moment, you didn’t feel like any of those things. A hero wouldn’t kill innocent men just doing their job. A protector would stand up to Dmitri and find a way to save Tommy. No, you were weak. A spineless fool. You put the barrel of the gun against the guard’s head, closed your eyes, and pulled the trigger. ‘Very good. One down,’ you opened your eyes and stared at the body at your feet. A pool of blood formed around his head. ‘Three more to go.’ You let out a shaky breath and tears formed at the corner of your eyes but you moved on, a job needed to be done.
When you lived with Jason, you were prone to dissociating. It allowed your mind to be protected while he raped you. You found yourself doing it now as if your mind was gone and your body moved on auto pilot. The two guards went down easily, their blood pooled on the floor and splattered on the wall they stood next to. In your ear, Dmitri praised you. Every time he called you ‘his good girl’ the little food in your stomach turn. ‘3 down, one to go.’ he said. ‘Good girl.’
You wanted to rip the com out of your ear, stomp on it. You wanted to go back in time and save those three men you murdered. To go back and stop the car accident but you couldn’t. So with the last guard that stood by the security office, you placed the barrel to the back of his head and pulled the rigger. His body slumped to the ground.
A few weeks ago, you woke up at three in the morning. With your throat dry and you were in desperate need of some water but the water bottle you had was empty. Kicking off the blankets, you braced the cold air of the house and headed to the kitchen. You expected it to be empty so you could fill your water bottle up and quickly go back to sleep. It wasn’t. Natasha was sitting at the kitchen counter and she appeared to be crying? Her sobs were muffled due to her hand being over her mouth but you saw her body shake. You remained frozen, not used to the scene in front of you. The normal level headed Black Widow was sobbing in the kitchen and were lost on what to do.
‘Mom,’ you made your presence known. She was startled, apologized, and asked if she woke you up. Instead of answering, you walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. You felt her body tense up but soon relaxed into you and cried. It could have been hours or maybe minutes but you held onto her tightly. Soon she pulled away and apologized again but you told her it was okay to cry. It was okay to not be strong all the time.
Instead of getting water, hot chocolate was made and you sat with her on the kitchen floor. You talked about everything.- her time in the Red Room, the red on her ledger, and the guilt she felt which lead her to working with SHIELD and the Avengers. Wanda found you and Natasha on the couch fast asleep the following morning.
But the conversation stuck with you and you found yourself thinking about it now while you stared at the body on the ground. There was more on your ledger. After all these years, Natasha was still trying to forgive herself. How long was it going to take you?
‘Hurry along.’ You nodded and fazed through the door to the security office. You plugged in the flash drive and watched the security footage delete, the alarm system turn off, and the metal garage door open. On cue, black vans entered the warehouse and men you didn’t recognize began to open the wooden boxes with crowbars.
“What are they looking for?” You asked, stepping out of the office. They paid no mind to you and continued on their work. You walked over to one of the men. Once the wooden box was open, he pulled out of a brief case. He placed a piece of tape over the finger print scanner and he opened it when it beeped.
“They are here, sir,” the man to Dmitri over his own com.
‘Perfect,’ you heard the smile in his voice. ‘My little shadow you did it!’ He was so proud of you but it filled you with fear. ‘Those pills are psylock. They enhance neural pathways to allow for manipulation,’ each word he spoke, sent a shiver down your spine. ‘Now we don’t also have to take baby brothers has collateral. Everyone will be good obedient soldiers,’ the world around you seem to blur.
“What are you planning?” You questioned. “Why are you building an army?” He scuffed.
‘The world is dirty A filthy, disgusting place so it needs to be rebuilt. You’ve seen the horrors of it. Together we can make it better,’ you had to stop yourself from laughing. This man wanted to make the world better when he was part of the problem. He contributed to the darkness. He was a monster not a savior.
Shooting pulled you out of your thoughts. You gripped the gun in your hand tighter as gun shots bounced off the walls. ‘Run back to me,’ Dmitri said but your feet remained frozen to the ground. You heard them. The voices of the Avengers. ‘Now!’ Still your hesitated when you locked eyes with familiar green ones.
“Mom,” you whispered. They found you. The relief was evident on her face but her eyes asked a question - where is your brother? You smiled, dropped the gun, and ran back to your capture. Ignoring the shouts of your name.
*
Natasha was losing her patience as she grabbed Lucas by the shoulder and throw him into an office chair. He was supporting a gun shot and she knew that wasn’t the only injury he was going to have tonight. “Let’s be honest with one another, okay?” She smiled, feeling her wife’s eyes on her back. The other Avengers were dealing with the other goons. Sam allowed Natasha, Yelena, and Wanda 10 minutes alone with him. “I really want to kill you but I can’t because you have something I need. So answer my one simple question. Where are my kids?” He laughed.
“Go to hell,” the Black Widow’s smile didn’t falter.
“Mr. Bennett,” she dug her finger into the gun shot and he let out a muffled scream, biting down on his lip. “I’m the easy way,” she moved behind him and forced his head to look at Wanda. “Do you see that beautiful woman over there? I get the pleasure to call her my wife and you do want her to find the answers by force.”
“I’m not scared of her,” he spat out.
“I would be,” Yelena mumbled.
“Moya lyubov’ (My love),” Natasha looked at the witch. “Let me talk to him.” She let go of his face and walked over to Wanda. With the hand not covered in his blood, the Black Widow put her hand on the back of Wanda’s neck.
“Find only them, little witch,” she whispered.
“I wont kill him,” her lips twitched and each words was laced with her deep accent. “He will wish for death.” Natasha gently kissed her forehead and let her go.
“I told you,” Yelena said as Wanda’s fingers glowed red. Natasha smirked as her fingers touched his head and he began to scream.
*
“How did they find you?” He asked with his hand tightly wrapped in your hair as he dragged you into a room you’ve never been in. Hew threw you onto the bed and you scrambled to sit up.
“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. The man paced in front of you. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me.” H wasn’t acknowledging you to lost in his thoughts. “Please,” you whispered. “Please don’t hurt him.” That stopped him and he faced you. You climbed to the opposite side of the bed, until your back hit the wall. You hated the look in his head. It was a look you’ve seen before. In Jason’s eyes. In every male that looked at you as if you were a toy, a piece of meat for them to taste.
“Strip for me,” he said, removing his tip and setting a pistol on the bed side table.
“I’m sorry?” You questioned even though you fully understood what he said. He chuckled.
“I am getting tired of having to repeat myself,” he rolled up the sleeves to his elbows. “I said strip.”
*
“We found Tommy,” Yelena said through Natasha’s com as they ran through the hallway of the abandoned hospital. “He’s safe minus a bruise on his face.”
“Copy that,” Wanda answered. “We are still searching for Y/n.” They came to a intersection. “I’ll go left and you go right.” Natasha hated the idea of splitting up but they needed to cover more ground.
“Okay,” she squeezed Wanda’s hand. “Be safe and let’s bring our girl home.” The witch squeezed her hand back and took off. The Black Widow let out a shaky breath and ran right. As she ran through the empty corridors, her mind kept turning into a darker place. The emptiness and coldness of it all reminded her of the Red Room. Endless hours she was shuffled through those halls; going to training or the ballet bar or back to her room. Now two of her children have been subjected to the same darkness. The sound of gun shots sent her heart in a panic and pulled her out of her thoughts. Another shot. Followed by another. She swung open the door with her gun drawn but her form faltered when she saw you; wearing only underwear, blood splattered across your face, and a gun in your hand. You pointed the gun at Natasha.
“M-mom,” you whispered. Your eyes were frantic, wide, and scared. Natasha holstered her gun.
“Yeah, it’s me,” she held up your hands when you didn’t lower the gun. “It’s me. It’s your mom.” Delete Created with Sketch.
You had to be dreaming, right? There was no way Natasha was standing in front of you. He had to have drugged you. “Can you put the gun down for me?” She asked, taking a step closer to you.
“Stop, don’t come any closer,” your hand shook but the Black Widow stopped walking towards you.
“I’ll stay right here but I need you to put that gun down.”
“I can’t,” you whispered. Didn’t she understand. You had to protect yourself from her and the men in his organization. “What if they come back for me?” Natasha shook her head.
“They won’t,” she said. “I’m here and you are safe.”
“Safe?” You questioned with a bitter laugh. “Why does this keep happening to me?” You asked, hitting yourself on the chest with your free hand. “Why do people keep using me? I can’t-” your voice cracked. Your throat began to burn as you tried to keep the tears at bay. “I can feel his hands on me. His breath on my neck. Why does this keep happening?” You pleaded with her to have an answer.
“I don’t know, sweetheart. Sometimes the world is a dark and evil place and you’ve been subjected to a lot of it.”
“It’s not fair. It’s not fair.” You readjusted your grip on the gun. “I can’t do this answer.” You put the barrel of the gun to your temple.
“Sweetheart,” Natasha took a few steps forward but you backed away from her. “You have every right to be angry and upset with how the world as treated you but I promise you whatever happens next I will be there. By yourself or at your back. Just please,” her own voice shook. “Put the gun down and we can go home.”
“Home?” You questioned. You heard footsteps rushing towards the open door and you pointed the gun. It was Wanda. “M-mama,” you whispered.
“Hi, my sweet girl.”She smiled.
“I c-can’t go home,” you said. “I killed those guards and stool information from a doctor. I’m - I’m,” your heart was pounding against your ribs. It was hard for you to get air into your lungs. You put the gun back to your temple.
“You did those things to keep yourself and Tommy safe,” Wanda said. Her voice was strong and steady. “We or the others won’t think of you any differently.”
“Tommy,” you said. “Is he safe?” Natasha nodded.
“He is. He’s with Yelena and waiting for you,” this time when your mom stepped forward you didn’t move. “So is Billy and Kate and Morgan. Just please put the gun down and we can go home.” Home? Home was where you were safe and loved by those around you. You could laugh and joke with your brothers. Play board games at the dining room table. Your hand shook as you set the gun down. It was hard to keep yourself standing and before your knees hit the ground, strong arms caught you. You buried your face into Natasha’s neck and sobbed. Your body shook from the intensities of your cries. Your tears wouldn’t stop. You felt Wanda’s magic enter your mind and every thought, memory went away and you welcomed the darkness.
*
When you came too, you were laying in one of the medical rooms at the tower. You were sandwiched between Billy and Tommy. The twins were asleep, their hands twisting in the fabric of your shirt in a tight fist. Wanda and Natasha were in the chairs on either side of you fast asleep. You sighed, looking up at the ceiling. It reminded you of when they found you after Jason’s attack. They sat by your side until you were healed. You were starting to wonder if you being part of this family was doing more harm then good. “You’re thinking to hard, dorogoy (sweetheart).” You looked at the witch, who was rubbing sleep out of her eyes. You offered her your free hand and she took it.
“I’m sorry,” she shook her head.
“Do not apologize,” she said. “None of this was your fault.” It was hard to believe that you were here. You held tightly onto her hand, scared that if you dropped it or looked away she would disappear. “Hey,” you forced your eyes away from her hand and looked at her. “You are home. You are safe. This is real,” you nodded. “Say it back.”
“This is real,” you repeated. “I am safe. I am home.” There was a shake in your voice that caused Billy to take up. He slowly looked around, eyes laced with sleep. His eyes locked onto yours.
“Your awake,” he said, sitting up quickly and throwing himself into your arms.
“Easy, Billy,” Wanda said. The force knocked the air out of your lungs. It was heightened by Tommy waking up and joining the hug. They hugged you tight as if they to were afraid you’d disappear. There was an ache in your body but you ignored it. You were home. Safe and home.
Natasha got the twins out of the room with the promise of getting ice cream. It was harder for Billy to leave your side but you gave him a smile and promised to play Mario Kart with him. It was just you and your moms and a part of you wished the twins were still there. You felt small under their gaze as you picked at the threads on the blanket. “Tommy filled us in on somethings that happened,” Natasha said. “Do you want to talk about anything?” You crossed your legs and starred at your hands. There was so much you wanted to say but it hurt.
“It was the group Jason worked for,” you whispered. “They found me through my parents. My parents needed money for my mom’s treatment so as an incentive to pay them back I was the bargaining chip,” you shrugged. “In the end, my mom died and my dad couldn’t pay them back so he committed suicide but a debt still needed to be collected,” you pushed away a few tears. “They needed me to steal information from Dr. Harris and get them into that warehouse to steal those drugs. And Dmitri,” you felt bile rise. You closed your eyes and you felt the couple place their hand on top of yours.
“Was like Jason, Coach Griffo, Principal Cook, and Conner. Men that tried to take something that wasn’t there’s to take,” you reopened your eyes and moved your fingers against their hands. It helped ground you. “He made his advances well known but when you found me at the warehouse he was upset and made his move. I killed him,” you sighed, biting your lip. “Natasha found me right after I did it.” You were not looking forward to the next part of this conversation. The Black Widow said your name and you looked at her. Her green eyes were a little glossy.
“I need to ask you this and I need you to be 100% honest with us, okay?” You nodded. “Are you suicidal?” You looked forward, unable to look at either of them.
“I-” you cleaned your throat. “Sometimes I feel their hands on me and the heat of their breath on my neck. I want it all to stop.”
“You didn’t answer her question,” Wanda said. Her small comment made you smile and chuckle softly.
“Because I don’t have an answer for you,” you answered. “I wish I did but right now I feel so dirty and mind is so dark and I don’t feel safe. I’m -”
“Stop apologizing.” Natasha cut you off. “Nothing has been your fault.” You nodded. “And thank you for being honest with us. So here is what’s going to happen,” you looked at her. “You are going to stay at the tower and be monitored by Helen.” That was fair.
“You are going to start speaking to a therapist,” Wanda added on. “Sam has found a few and you can decide which one you like.” You nodded again. “Sweetheart,” you looked at Wanda. Her green eyes matched her wife’s, glossy with tears. “You really scared us. We weren’t sure what was going to happen.”
“I’m-” you stopped yourself. “Thank you,” you said instead. “Thank you for saving.”
“I meant it,” Natasha said. “In that room, I said no matter where life takes you we will be by your side.” she ran her hand through your hair. “My firefly, you saved yourself. Time and time again, it has been you. We are here to show you how far you’ve come.” You smiled. It was a long and scary journey ahead of healing but you wanted to overcome everything you’ve been through. You weren’t a pawn but a queen and it was time to show the world who you are.
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love-too-believe · 2 months
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Since it's blowing up again. Here's everyone's reminder that Yelena Belova is AROACE and yes if Marvel were to pair her with anyone that is erasing her sexuality
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I'm hoping they don't because there's so few aroace representation in media and it's often just erased (look at what Riverdale did to Jughead) I'm hoping she's allowed to keep her comic sexuality and just be a badass who loves her dog.
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drabblesandsnippets · 4 months
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Drabble #4
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)
Background: What would Bucky do if he overheard his girlfriend talking negatively about her body?
Summary: Bucky likes to remind his girlfriend how beautiful she is, especially when she has a hard time remembering.
Warnings: 18+ Only. Explicit sexual content. Mention of body image. Slight domination. Affirmations.
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A shopping spree with Yelena was actually something on her list of fun things to do. Until Yelena insisted on choosing several new outfits for her, most of the items far out of her comfort zone.
But, at least Yelena didn’t make her try them on at the store. She was able to wait until she was in the safety of her home, where she could laugh at how ridiculous she looked.
She had been so preoccupied with trying on the way-too-revealing clothing that she didn’t hear Bucky come home. And as she stood in front of the mirror, silently critiquing her figure - that Yelena had tried to convince her she needed to show off - she didn’t even realize he was watching her from the doorway, his eyes on her new outfit. 
A high-waisted skirt and cropped shirt. The combination showing just a hint of soft skin at her waist. Her beautiful thick thighs on display.
He’d never seen her in anything like it, and it instantly made him hard, his mind filled with all sorts of dirty images of what he wanted to do to her.
Just when he was about to announce his presence, his sensitive ears picked up her quiet voice. The silent critique that had been in her head had turned vocal, and she mumbled something about her body that made Bucky immediately growl.
“Princess.” 
The single utterance of her nickname made goosebumps spread across her skin, and she knew no excuses would get her out of this.
She was in trouble.
She’s not allowed to talk negatively about herself - about the woman he loves - and she’s especially not allowed to talk about her body like that. A body that he worships every chance he gets.
That’s how she ends up in front of their large mirror, leaning back against Bucky with her skirt hiked up, showing him how wet she is. Her legs are hooked over his thighs, his body keeping her spread wide for him, not giving her a chance to hide any part of herself from either of them.
Every time her eyes drift away from the mirror, he forces her to look again, whispering every bit of praise that comes to mind, making sure to pay attention to all the places she’s insecure about, refusing to let her think one bad thing about herself.
It’s not long before she’s a mess, dizzy with need, her body on fire, and he’s barely even touched her. 
Her eyes meet his in the mirror, and she squirms as best as she can, rubbing back against his covered erection as his hands move along her thighs. The teasingly tender touch of his fingertips makes her whine, and she arches her back, almost at her breaking point.
“Bucky,” she breathes, her eyes fluttering at his gentle touch. “Please.”
It’s useless, she knows. She hasn’t given him what he wants yet.
“Hmm?” he asks, his voice sending shivers down her spine. “I need to hear your words, Princess.”
He knows exactly what he’s doing to her, but until she says what he needs to hear, he’s not going to do anything but this.
Slow teasing strokes of his fingers, tracing a path along her inner thighs, getting closer and closer to where she needs him most. 
And just when he’s close enough to feel the heat of her, he pulls away, dragging the back of his fingers along her trembling thighs.
For a moment, all she can do is whimper, already on the verge of tears, the intensity of the moment catching up to her. She’s overwhelmed, but they both know she can do this.
She needs this.
With one more encouraging look from Bucky, and another teasing pass of his hands, she finally finds her voice.
“My body deserves respect.” She whispers the words, but they immediately make Bucky smile, and his chest swells with pride.
“Good girl,” he growls, placing his palms flat against her, sliding them slowly along her inner thighs. “Keep going.” She makes a soft noise of appreciation and nods her head, wanting this just as much as he does.
When she utters the next phrase, “my body deserves love” his hips shift subtly against her, his cock seeking friction.
He’s so proud of her, of the woman she is and everything she’s capable of. Seeing how much she wants to believe the things she’s saying makes him want to reward her.
“That’s right,” he tells her, his breath heavy against her neck. “You’re doing so good for me.” He inches his fingers ever closer to her pussy, and she can’t tear her eyes away from the mirror, her body growing still.
She doesn’t want to give him any reason to stop, and it makes the next words even easier to say.
“My body is a gift.” The last word comes out broken, a soft strangled noise, because Bucky’s fingers are finally touching her, spreading her obscenely, allowing him to see just how turned on she is for him.
Her hands grip his forearms, but she knows better than to try to control him. Not that she wants to, no matter how vulnerable she feels.
She barely processes what’s coming out of his mouth, but each word he says makes her that much more desperate for him, that much more desperate to make him proud.
“Look at that. Such a pretty pussy. Just dripping for me. Wanna make you come just like this.”
The pad of his finger teases over her exposed clit and her entire body shudders, her thighs almost closing in response. Bucky doesn’t let her move though, his own legs spread wide to keep her in place, reminding her who’s in charge.
She’s too far gone to immediately answer him, but he takes pity on her, sliding his finger along her soaked slit to tease at her entrance. “Do you want that, Princess? Do you wanna watch while I play with your pretty pussy?” 
This time when his finger grazes over her clit, she moans and quickly nods, her body seeking out more of his touch. There are so many things she wants to say, to please him, to show him that she wants this just as much as he does. But, all that comes out is a soft, “yes, please.” 
It’s more than enough for Bucky though, and he leans back just a bit more, giving them both the perfect view of her body.
At his instructions, her eyes stay on the mirror, watching his hand as he starts to bring her more pleasure. There’s no teasing this time, Bucky reminding her how good she did for him as his fingers start to move against her clit in firm circles. 
It’s not long before she’s breathless, her arm curled up around his neck, holding onto him as he brings her closer to the edge. Her eyes keep threatening to close, the pleasure starting to overwhelm her, but Bucky won’t allow her to look away. Not yet. 
“God, you drive me crazy, do you know that?” he asks her, his vibranium hand sliding underneath her shirt, lifting it until her bra is exposed, her nipples hard against the fabric. “Just look at you. You’re so fucking beautiful.”
His fingers quickly pull her bra cup down, letting her breast spill out, and his hand greedily grabs at her, his fingers seeking out her nipple. She immediately whines his name, her hips bucking against his touch, her orgasm quickly approaching.
She’s only vaguely aware of what he’s even saying to her, but each word adds to her pleasure, making her body shudder. Her gaze flickers from her own body to Bucky’s face, and even though she can already feel how turned on he is, what does her in is the way he’s looking at her, like he can't get enough of her. Like she’s truly a work of art. 
She barely has time to gasp out that she’s going to come before he growls her name, telling her to. Demanding it. “Yes. That’s it, Princess. Come for me, right now.”
His hand moves down to hold her waist, keeping her held against him as her body tenses, watching as the pleasure takes over. The pleasure he’s giving her. It’s enough to almost make him come with her. 
After what feels like an eternity, she starts to slowly return to reality, Bucky’s hands now sliding along her soft skin as he moves her into a more comfortable position. He continues whispering soft words of praise, telling her how proud he is of her as she meets his gaze in the reflection of the mirror, a soft smile on her face. 
Her shirt is still pulled up over her breasts, her skirt bunched up around her waist, and she’s suddenly struck by how hot she looks. Her body pulses at the image, Bucky’s strong arms wrapped around her, his hands touching every part of her he can reach.
It’s like she can see herself the way he does.
Bucky senses the shift in her and immediately grins, his eyes roaming over the vision of her, flushed and needy. “How about you try on some more of these new clothes?”
She immediately giggles as he helps her to her feet, and she makes a joke about how she might have to critique each one if this is the consequence. 
“Just think what the reward will be if you compliment yourself instead,” he laughs, playfully smacking her ass.
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Main Masterlist
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