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marvelwitchergilmore · 4 months ago

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Meant To Be

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> When you find yourself transported to the future, you begin to question if you were always meant to be here.

Disclaimer: Kinda open ended, platonic!Steve x reader, fluff, angst, Reader comes from the 40s, MJ scaring people, oblivious idiots, swearing, mentions of violence. Not Proof Read.

You groaned as you hit the solid ground. “Oh, I am gonna kill Howard.”

Coughing a little before rolling onto your front to try and stand, you took a look around you.

“Where the fuck-”

As you brushed some dust from your skirt, a loud blaring alarm sounded overhead. You were quick to cover your ears before trying to find an exit. What was the wager that Howard had set something on fire again?

But before you could call out, the floor beneath you fell open and you went sliding down. A scream let itself out from your lungs, only stopping just before you landed and rolled onto a pristine white floor.

“Jarvis, who is she?”

Once again, you groaned. You held your head, keeping your eyes closed. “For god’s sake, Howard. You know who I am. Don’t pull that bullshit with - ow - me.”

As you stood on your feet, you looked around you again. The whole room was white. Where the hell were you?

“Jarvis?”

You recognised the name, but not the voice that said his name.

Slowly turning around, you started to realise where you were. It wasn’t like any you were used to but you were, in fact, in a cell.

“I can’t seem to find an ID for her from this century.”

“This century?”

You looked through the glass. “Where’s Howard?”

The man looked right at you. “I ask the questions here.”

“Considering I’ve just landed who the fuck knows where, I’d say I’m the one who should be asking questions. How much did he pay you? Thirty, forty bucks?”

“Forty bucks?”

The man seemed disgusted.

“What? Keep Y/n distracted so he can run around town again? Just so you know, if I don’t kick his ass, Peggy will.”

“Stark! What the hell is going on?”

Tony watched as you lit up a little at the voice coming down the hall.

“Steve?!” You called out.

Tony had already been confused when he got an alert from Jarvis that someone had broken into the facility. Then he was confused even more when you asked for Howard. But now? Now he was more confused than ever.

“Steve!? Oh, thank god. Tell this moron to let me out. Howard’s probably ten seconds away from setting the whole building on fire. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Tony turned to his side and took a long look at Steve. He looked…pale. Shocked, to say the least. Like someone had just stuck a knife into his heart and he was watching himself bleed out.

“Y/n?”

“You know her?” Tony asked quietly.

You laughed. “What? Did Howard pay you, too? Just so you know, once I’ve kicked his ass, I’m gonna have Peggy kick yours.”

Steve turned towards Tony with a slightly heated gaze. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. She just showed up here. Who is she?”

Reading the room, you took a few steps forward. Something told you that this wasn’t just a prank. “Steve, what’s going on?”

“Y/n?”

“Yes?”

Steve felt the breath leave his lungs. “What…What year is it?”

You chuckled. This game again?

“1944.”

Steve couldn’t breathe.

“Sir, though I’m not quite sure how it’s possible. I do believe this is Agent Y/n Y/l/n. Born in 1921, she went missing the summer before Sargent Barnes fell from the train.”

That sentence made you panic a little. “Okay, Jarvis! Howard, I get it. You can call it off now!”

“Call what off?”

Steve ignored Tony for a few moments. “Y/n, I think you’re gonna wanna sit down.”

“Steve, what’s going on?”

“Tony, open the doors.”

He didn’t think twice and the glass door slid away and behind the panel, letting Steve inside.

“Steve?”

He didn’t say anything. He just hugged you. Tight. Like he’d waited years to do so. So, you hugged him back. “Steve, you’re scaring me now. What’s going on? Where’s Howard? I swear to god if this is some-”

Steve leaned back and shook his head. “No, this isn’t…it’s not a joke.”

You stepped back a little and took in the two men in front of you. Although he wasn’t Howard, he did have a funny resemblance to him. And Steve…the last time you saw him…he’d been wearing his uniform. Not a blue button down and a pair of jeans.

“You should probably come with us.”

Less than ten minutes later you were sitting in Tony’s lab. Some kind of floating projector showed different images and other things. All the while, you could feel Steve’s eyes burning a hole into the side of your head.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Being in the underground bunker. Howard’s testing some new chemical weapons. It’s meant to melt weaponry from the inside. Steve, what happened? Jarvis…s’voice…he said Bucky fell. Did we lose?”

Steve shook his head, taking your hand in his. “No. The war…we won the war. But…Hydra…they captured Bucky. We all thought…I thought he was dead. I thought you were dead.”

You couldn’t do anything else but laugh, though it wasn’t happy. “Steve, I was with you less than twenty minutes ago. And Howard-”

“Howard’s dead.”

“Tony.” Steve scolded.

“What?”

You looked back at Steve, then at Tony.

“Y/n, this is Tony. Howard’s son.”

You heard yourself gasp a little. But before you could understand what the hell was going on, the doors across the lab swung open.

“Mr Stark! I’ve finally figured it out! If I just change the chemical- oh. Hello.”

You looked over at the young boy who couldn’t be more than seventeen or eighteen.

“Y/n, this is Peter. Peter, this is-”

“Holy shit, you’re Y/n Y/l/n.”

Both Tony and Steve looked at Peter. “You know her?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, MJ goes on about her all the time. MJ’s my girlfriend, by the way and she thinks you're, like, super cool. But- hey. Wait a minute. How can you be here?”

“I’ve been asking myself that same question.”

“Mr Stark?”

Tony sighed. “Best we can figure is that my old man went wrong and somehow…”

“Invented time travel?” Peter finished.

Tony nodded, as did you.

“Sounds like Howard.”

“Maybe you should call Scott?”

“Why Scott?”

Peter shrugged. “I was gonna suggest Hank but I didn’t think you two are still talking since the burrito fiasco in the cafe the other week.”

Steve just looked at Tony and it took a few minutes but the Stark kid threw his head back before grumbling and pulling out his phone. “Fine.”

“He’s just like his dad,” Steve heard you whisper as you watched him walk away.

“Hey,” Steve said softly, bringing your attention back to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Dizzy. Terrified. Angry. A little more dizzy.”

Steve just held your hand tighter.

“Steve, I need you to tell me everything that happened because right now I have too many questions and…I don’t even know where to begin.”

Steve nodded understandably. You’d been missing for longer than he’d been in the ice. You’d become a part of some of the ghost stories with the walls of Shield. You’d become a small block of text in the Smithsonian since nobody knew anything else.

Your name was one of the first that he searched for when he got out of the ice. If he can be left sleeping in the ice for seventy years, gods can wield magic hammers and aliens can fall from the sky, then surely you could still be alive somewhere, right?

But there had still been no trace of you.

Until today when a loud rad alarm started to sound throughout the kitchen to alert whoever was left in the compound that someone had broken in.

So, starting from the beginning, Steve told you as much as he could in the short time you had together. With Peter filling in a few gaps.

Steve told you about when you went missing. How Howard has a black eye for three weeks since Peggy had hit him hard when she realised what he’d been making and didn’t think to use any safety precautions. One thing Howard knew for certain was that you weren’t dead. How he knew that, the others couldn’t figure. But it was easier to accept than thinking Howard Stark had just murdered one of his closest friends.

Steve told you about when Bucky fell and when he went into the ice. He told you about the end of the war and him and Peggy.

Peter told you about Tony and the little snippets he knew from what he’d been told. Peter accidently let slip that Bucky had been the one to murder Howard and his wife, Maria.

Steve explained about the Winter Soldier programme and waking up in the ice. He told you about New York and The Avengers. Peter mentioned how he, too, was a Superhero. Steve explained about Natasha, Sam and Bucky. Peter mentioned bringing Bucky and Steve up to date with Star Wars and other movie franchises.

Then Steve explained, briefly, about Wakanda and what Bucky had been through.

Tears slipped from your eyes and Steve helped you wipe them away. “So…he’s…he’s alive?”

Steve nodded with a smile. “He’s alive.”

You felt yourself breathing again. Steve had only told you the key things about what happened to Bucky. You couldn’t begin to imagine the pain he went through, or the pain Steve went through realising he’d lost Peggy.

Last you knew, Peggy and Steve were crushing hard on each other. You and Bucky had a bet running for how long it would take for Steve to finally ask her on a date.

“Okay, he’s on his way. He doesn’t believe me, but I don't even believe it.” Tony announced as he walked back inside, pocketing his phone.

“What happens now? What am I meant to do?”

Steve looked at Tony who just shrugged. “You stay here with us until we can get some kind of answer, I guess.”

You tilted your head at Steve. “I’m meant to be in the 40s. What the hell am I supposed to do whilst I’m here? Better yet, what the hell am I meant to do when I can go home? What, am I just not meant to tell you anything? Or Bucky for that matter? Oh, my god! Can I even get home?”

Steve placed his hands on your shoulders and led you back to your seat. “Okay, just sit down. Just breathe.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Blueberry?” Tony suddenly shoved a silver packet into your face. “They can help calm the nervous system.”

Tony didn’t say anything else. But he did unfurl your hand and place a packet in your palm.

“Can I even get home?”

“Uhh…”

“It’s not a question of whether or not you can get home. It’s do you go home?”

Everyone, including yourself, jumped. All except for Peter.

“Jesus Christ,” you swore to yourself, holding onto your chest.

“How the hell did you get in here?” Tony turned towards the curly haired girl standing beside Peter.

“Peter texted me.”

Tony just stared at the girl. “That still doesn’t answer my question.”

Steve sighed. “She’s training with Nat and Laura, remember?”

That seemed to answer something.

“See, that’s how you give me information.”

“Oh,” Peter jumped back into the conversation. “Agent Y/l/n?”

“Please, call me Y/n.”

“This is MJ, my girlfriend.”

You smiled at her and she gave you a small smile back. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

Half an hour later, three people walked inside who were introduced to you as “Ant-Man, but not the original Ant-Man-.”, “Hope”, “She’s the Wasp.”, and “Hank Pym.”

“I believe you might be able to…help.”

Hank nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“What ‘we’ can do?”

“Why ‘we’?”

“It’s my lab, Pym.”

“And it’s my research, Stark.”

“I found her first.”

“But you called me, remember?”

The argument continued on for a few more minutes until finally you stood up.

“Hey!”

That shut them up.

“I am not some lab rat that you’re gonna be poking needles into! I understand that I’m over seventy years out of my time, but I’m not some experiment. I’m human, alright?!”

Hope nudged MJ. “I like her.”

Hank and Tony seemed to come to a silent agreement. “Okay, how about we start with the basics?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

Over the next few hours, you had your heart rate monitored, your blood pressure taken, your memory tested. You filled out multiple different medical forms. You told them everything you could about where and when you were born, what you did in the last week of your life in the 40s and was fed so many blueberries you were pretty sure your skin would turn the same colour.

“MJ?”

As the boys messed with things on the other side of the lab, you took a seat beside the girl.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled. “I was hoping I might be able to talk to you.”

MJ nodded. “What about?”

“Earlier, when you said it’s more about do I get back…Peter mentioned you might know a few things about me, after I went missing.”

MJ nodded slowly. “I…might.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone anything. Whatever you know will stay between you and me.”

MJ nodded. “Okay.”

“Just…tell me everything?”

And she did.

About the rumours, about the ghost stories. That’s all they were, but there was always a hint of truth in stories. Some people still looked for you, others believed you hadn’t ever existed at all. There was a lot of research done after your disappearance. What had caused it, where you could have gone.

“Does this research still exist?”

“You’d have to ask Mr Stark about that one. Mostly it was his dad’s stuff. I only know because Agent Romanoff was helping me find references for a college paper.”

You smiled. “Thank you, MJ.”

That was when Jarvis, who wasn’t Javis, spoke. “Uh, Captain Rogers, sir. Sergeant Barnes and Captain Wilson have returned.”

“Thank you, Jarvis.”

You looked over at Steve.

“I’ll go and get him.”

You just nodded and watched as Steve jogged down the hall, out of the doors and towards the stairs.

“Did you date?”

You turned back to MJ. “What?”

“You and Barnes? There were always rumours. And I’ve seen the footage.”

“Footage?”

“They still show clips in the Smithsonian. You know, like Steve keeping a picture of Peggy in his compass. I’ve seen some of you and Barnes.”

You could only nod, letting her know you’d heard what she said.

Truth be told, you and Bucky hadn’t been dating. You were just friends. He’d save you a dance at every Hall. He was the one, besides Peggy, who you’d been closest to. On the days where all his confidence and charm would leave his body – mostly when he was geeking out at the technology fairs – you’d stick by his side and help him out.

Some women he’d try and talk to, so you’d give him a push. But others…he was nice to them, but he just wanted some time alone. The war was a lot and with his own call-up looming, he just wanted some time. So, making sure he didn’t constantly bump into people, you’d both pretend you were on a date. It kept some girls away, and you and him had a great time.

And despite your growing crush over the last few months…no, you weren’t dating.

Your head kicked back into gear. “No. No, we weren’t dating. Just friends.”

MJ just gave you a look. You knew that look. Because it was the same look Peggy had given you three days ago when she cornered you in the girls bathroom after you excused yourself when one of the blonde agents waltzed her way over to talk to Bucky.

Before your conversation could continue further, however, there were multiple sets of boots pounding on the floor. The noise was growing closer and closer.

You stood up from your chair, standing directly in view of the glass doorway, your skirt swishing a little around your knees.

And through the glass, you saw Bucky come to a halt.

He just stared at you.

He was in dark blue tactical gear, a man stood behind him with a jet pack attached to his back and Steve remained beside him.

Bucky stood alone just staring at you.

Then he started walking.

Opening the door, your name fell from his lips before he ran towards you and you ran to him.

Crashing in the middle, Bucky’s arms held your tightly almost crushing your bones.

“Y/n,”

“James,” you felt yourself smile.

“You’re alive?”

“Apparently.”

He just held you tighter. “I didn’t believe him. He told me…you were here and…you’re really here.”

Bucky felt himself laugh a little. He was stunned. To him, he hadn’t spoken to you in over seventy years, but he knew, to you, you and him had spoken that morning.

He never forgot you.

He never let himself forget you.

You meant too much to him.

“I don’t have a clue what’s going on, but boy am I glad to see you.”

Bucky laughed again before leaning back to look at you. Instinctively, he held your face. Both of you had tears in your eyes but that didn’t matter.

“God, you’re alive.”

Bucky hugged you again.

“If you two love birds have finished, might we get back to work?” Hank called out.

Scott nudged him and Hope slapped him across the head. Meanwhile, you remained fixed in Bucky’s arms.

Hours and hours and hours of work later, you were sitting on your own since Bucky had left to go and get you something to eat.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Sam came and sat beside you.

“Something tells me I don’t make it back home.”

“Maybe you’re not meant to.”

You just looked at Sam. And he took a breath before talking again.

“First time I asked Bucky about his life before,” Sam started. “The first person he mentioned was you. You were close to him. And he was close to you. He told me losing you was one of the worst pains he ever suffered through. And when Steve mentioned your name today, I saw someone come back to life inside of him. A person even I haven’t seen in Bucky since that day when he first talked about you.”

You didn’t exactly know where Sam was going with his speech, so you just let him continue.

“Maybe, for whatever reasons will help you rationalise this, you were meant to be here instead. With these two, but most importantly…” Sam just pointed to Bucky across the room who was handing out different lunch meals to everyone as Peter carried the tray.

“Nothing is as I remember it.”

“Maybe you’re not as you remember.”

You just looked at Sam, puzzled.

“Those two science nerds will probably have some big, elaborate explanation but, maybe you didn’t time travel. Maybe you just got stranded in time. Pushed through each year in order to get to this one. And, whenever you dropped-”

“Literally.”

“Into here…it was because you needed to. Because it was meant to be.”

You rolled your eyes a little and laughed. “Okay.”

Sam just chuckled and nudged you.

Bucky eventually made his way over to you, just in time to hear Sam ask; “And if you’ve got any tips on how to tap into Mr White Wolf, I’ll take ‘em.”

Sam tapped Bucky on the arm as he passed him by, heading towards the food Steve was opening up at one of the tables.

“It’s not ration food, but it’s the closest I could find to something familiar.”

You smiled accepting the meal as Bucky sat beside you and ate his own with you.

Looking around you, you took everyone in. The super soldiers, the humans, the ego filled scientists and the kids. And the longer you looked, the more it started to look familiar.

Maybe a different room, maybe a different year.

But it was still the same.

Then Sam’s words echoed in your head.

“Meant to be.”

A month later, you were still in the future. People were still looking for answers but the longer time pushed on, the more you began to realise maybe Sam was right. Maybe this was where you were meant to be.

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moonlit-imagines · 6 months ago

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warnings:

a/n: sorry guys…this will be the last request i accept for a baby/toddler/child (agewise) reader!! it’s been added to the rules but do not fear anon!! this one goes out to you 💕💕

requested by anonymous

Tony only left for five minutes to take a shower, and in all those five minutes, you got loose.

“What are you talking about, JARVIS? Y/N’s two, they couldn’t have opened the door! You let them out?” Tony yelled, running through the halls with wet feet and shampoo in his hair.

“No, sir, they seem to have figured out a way to open it themselves.” JARVIS replied. “Please be careful, sir. You may slip.” He added, but Tony was only focused on wrangling you. “Y/N should be in the kitchen now.” And as Tony turned the corner, he found you with your toy wagon full of building blocks, a stack of “stairs” you’d created with them, and your head in the fridge with all sorts of food on the ground.

“Strawberries?” Tony asked you, in awe of your invention—not original by any means, but impressive for a two year old.

“Stwahbewwy?” You replied in an innocuous baby accent and your dad put you safely on the floor, reaching into the drawer that contained your favorite treat. “Tank you.” You grabbed your fruits and wandered over to the couch.

“If that wasn’t the proof you needed to know y/n’s yours, I don’t know what is.” JARVIS commented, beginning to pull the video feed from your adventure and adding it to the “Baby Book” file in Tony’s experiment collection.

“You think I ever doubted it? Y/N’s got my perfect facial hair, duh.”

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urdreamydoodles · 5 months ago

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MARVEL COMICS CHARACTERS x FEM!READER

The Marvel Comics Characters babysit your dog, Mr. Pickles

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Loki, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Matthew Murdock, Frank Castle, Marc Spector, Johnny Storm, Reed Richards, Ben Grimm, Susan Storm, Felicia Hardy, Stephen Strange, Namor, Johnny Blaze, Eddie Brock / Venom, T'Challa, Elektra Natchios, Victor von Doom, Peter Quill & Nova

Mr. Pickles: 100 | Marvel’s Most Dangerous Characters: 0

Peter Parker & Mr. Pickles

- Peter Parker thought he had seen chaos. He had battled the Sinister Six, fought off symbiotes, and saved the city more times than he could count. But nothing—nothing—had prepared him for babysitting your tiny, fluffy, utterly reckless dog, Mr. Pickles.

- The first incident happened within minutes. Peter had barely set his backpack down when he turned around to find Mr. Pickles teetering on the edge of the kitchen counter, somehow having climbed up without opposable thumbs or logic. A split second later, Peter was diving forward, catching the little menace midair like he was saving a falling civilian from a burning building.

- Webbing became his only salvation. After Mr. Pickles managed to squeeze himself into the vents (how?!), Peter had no choice but to create an elaborate web barricade in the apartment. The place looked less like your home and more like a Spider-Man containment field.

- When he tried to work on some web fluid at your kitchen table, Mr. Pickles took it upon himself to bat at the vials like he was a cat, sending one flying straight into Peter’s hair. “Oh, come on, dude—do you have a vendetta against physics?!” he groaned, now stuck to the chair.

- By the time you returned, Peter was sitting on the couch, hair a mess, web fluid staining his fingers, Mr. Pickles curled up in his lap like an innocent angel. “Your dog is not real,” Peter muttered, voice hollow from exhaustion. “He is an agent of chaos.” But then you laughed, kissed his cheek, and suddenly, he decided maybe babysitting Mr. Pickles was worth it.

Tony Stark & Mr. Pickles

- Tony Stark was a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist—and now, apparently, an unwilling dog sitter. He had babysat robots more predictable than your tiny, fluffy terror, Mr. Pickles, who seemed to have a personal grudge against his entire penthouse.

- Five minutes in, the dog had already hacked into JARVIS. “Sir,” JARVIS reported, “Mr. Pickles has managed to override security protocols and is currently sending an email to Pepper Potts.” Tony whipped around. “He what?” The email in question was just a string of random letters and a single attachment: a blurry photo of Mr. Pickles’ own tail.

- The next three hours were spent chasing the demon-dog through the penthouse. Mr. Pickles had chewed through a custom Italian leather shoe, knocked over an entire tray of expensive whiskey glasses, and somehow ended up inside the Iron Man gauntlet display.

- Thinking himself the superior intellect, Tony built a small tracking device for Mr. Pickles. That lasted exactly fifteen minutes before the dog removed it and buried it inside one of Tony’s prized sports cars.

- By the time you came home, Tony was slumped in his chair, his expensive suit now covered in dog fur, while Mr. Pickles pranced happily across the table like he had won the war. “Your dog needs an exorcist,” Tony grumbled. You just kissed his forehead and said, “But you love him, right?” Tony sighed. “Unfortunately… yeah.”

Steve Rogers & Mr. Pickles

- Steve Rogers had fought in wars, led the Avengers, and stared down threats that could destroy the world. But nothing prepared him for babysitting Mr. Pickles, a dog whose only purpose in life seemed to be challenging the laws of nature.

- It started with the shield. Steve had set it down for one minute—one single minute—and somehow, Mr. Pickles had lodged himself inside the strap loops, running across the apartment with it stuck to his back like a medieval knight.

- The escape attempts were relentless. Every time Steve turned away, Mr. Pickles was finding new ways to jailbreak from the apartment. He squeezed under doors, climbed onto furniture he had no business reaching, and at one point, managed to activate Steve’s emergency communicator by jumping onto the counter. Sam Wilson showed up at the door minutes later, breathless. “Did you just summon the Avengers?” Steve sighed. “No. The dog did.”

- Steve had fought entire battles with less stress. When he tried to cook dinner, Mr. Pickles stole an entire steak off the counter and stared Steve dead in the eye as he ate it. When he tried to read a book, the dog somehow ended up inside the couch cushions.

- When you walked in, Steve was on the floor, holding Mr. Pickles upside down like he had accepted defeat. “Your dog has the soul of a war general,” Steve muttered. You just smiled, kissing his cheek. “That’s why I trusted Captain America to babysit him.” Steve sighed, looking at the fluffy criminal in his arms. “Yeah. I guess I kind of like him.”

Thor & Mr. Pickles

- Thor, the God of Thunder, had faced frost giants, dark elves, and cosmic horrors. But none of them were as terrifyingly determined as your tiny, fluffy white dog, Mr. Pickles.

- The moment Thor sat down, Mr. Pickles leapt onto his lap, staring into his soul with his beady eyes. Thor grinned. “Ah! A warrior spirit!” He scratched behind Mr. Pickles’ ears, convinced that this small creature was surely an Asgardian beast in disguise.

- Things took a turn when Thor left Mjolnir on the ground. Mr. Pickles, in his infinite foolishness, tried to pick it up. When the hammer didn’t budge, he began barking at it, circling it like it was an enemy. Thor, amused beyond belief, sat back and watched the battle unfold.

- Mr. Pickles did not win. But he did not give up, either. Thor, impressed by his persistence, lifted Mjolnir just enough for Mr. Pickles to wiggle underneath and emerge victorious. “You are brave,” Thor declared. “And terribly, terribly dumb.”

- When you returned, Mr. Pickles was sitting atop Thor’s shoulder like he was king of Asgard. Thor beamed at you. “Your small beast is worthy! I shall take him to battle!” You simply sighed. “Thor, please don’t take my dog to battle.”

Loki & Mr. Pickles

- Loki, Prince of Asgard and God of Mischief, should have known better. He was the master of deception, the embodiment of chaos—but even he was not prepared for your small, dumb, fluffy menace, Mr. Pickles.

- The trouble started the moment you left. Loki, confident in his abilities, had settled in with a book. Within ten minutes, Mr. Pickles had stolen one of his enchanted daggers and was running laps around the room with it.

- Loki was not amused. He summoned illusions of himself to try and corner the beast, but Mr. Pickles—defying all reason— managed to sniff out the real Loki every time.

- Realizing he had met his match, Loki decided to strike a deal. “You may keep the dagger,” he told Mr. Pickles, “if you agree to cease your foolishness.” Mr. Pickles promptly ignored him and chewed on the dagger handle.

- By the time you returned, Loki was sitting on the couch, holding Mr. Pickles like a defeated king cradling his downfall. “Your dog,” Loki said, “is the single most infuriating creature I have ever encountered.” You just smiled. “But you like him, right?” Loki sighed, reluctantly scratching behind Mr. Pickles’ ears. “Against my better judgment… yes.”

Clint Barton & Mr. Pickles

- Clint Barton thought he had dealt with enough chaos in his life. He had fought aliens, battled crime syndicates, and survived on a diet of pizza and sarcasm. But babysitting your tiny, fluffy, perpetually confused dog, Mr. Pickles? That was an entirely new level of disaster.

- The first mistake Clint made was underestimating Mr. Pickles. “Yeah, yeah, I got this,” he had said as you left. Five minutes later, the dog had vanished. One second he was on the couch, the next, he was gone—like a ghost with bad decision-making skills.

- The next three hours turned into a full-blown tactical operation. Clint used every trick in the book—tracking skills, stealth maneuvers, even an actual infrared scope—only to find Mr. Pickles sitting inside Clint’s quiver, chewing happily on an arrowhead. “Dude, I need those,” Clint groaned, prying the slobbery mess from tiny jaws.

- He tried distracting Mr. Pickles with treats. That worked for exactly two minutes before the dog somehow managed to jump onto the kitchen counter, knock over a coffee mug, and hit the emergency call button on Clint’s burner phone. When Kate Bishop picked up, laughing, Clint groaned, “Shut up. I don’t want to talk about it.”

- By the time you came home, Clint was laying on the floor, defeated, as Mr. Pickles slept soundly on his chest. “Your dog is part ninja, part escape artist, and entirely evil,” Clint muttered. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “But you love him, right?” Clint sighed, reluctantly scratching behind Mr. Pickles’ ears. “…Yeah, yeah. I love the dumb little menace.”

Natasha Romanoff & Mr. Pickles

- Natasha Romanoff was an elite assassin, a master of espionage, and completely unbothered by most things. Until, of course, she had to babysit Mr. Pickles.

- At first, she thought it would be easy. “He’s small,” she had told herself. “He’s fluffy. How much trouble can he be?” Two hours later, Natasha was standing on the coffee table, arms crossed, watching as Mr. Pickles circled her boots like a tiny, unhinged shark.

- She quickly realized Mr. Pickles had a taste for destruction. He tore apart a throw pillow, attempted to climb inside the dishwasher, and somehow chewed through her phone charger within ten minutes. “You’re worse than Clint,” she muttered, watching as he tried (and failed) to jump onto the windowsill.

- Despite the chaos, she found herself impressed by his persistence. When he got stuck in a blanket, he wiggled until he was free. When he knocked over his water bowl, he marched right through it like an unstoppable force. He reminded her, in some strange way, of herself—small but relentless, completely unaware of limits.

- When you returned, Mr. Pickles was curled up in Natasha’s lap, snoring softly. She glanced at you and smirked. “Your dog is dangerous,” she said. You laughed, leaning down to kiss her. “But you like him, right?” Natasha rolled her eyes but continued petting him. “…I tolerate him.” That was Natasha-speak for yes.

Bucky Barnes & Mr. Pickles

- Bucky Barnes had fought in wars, survived decades of brainwashing, and carried the weight of his past like an iron chain. Babysitting your tiny, fluffy disaster of a dog, Mr. Pickles, should have been easy. It was not.

- The first problem was the metal arm. Mr. Pickles was obsessed with it. He barked at it, licked it, and then tried to bite it—only to look extremely offended when his tiny teeth did nothing. “Buddy, I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish here,” Bucky muttered, watching as the dog attempted (and failed) to wrestle his vibranium fingers.

- Mr. Pickles had no fear. He ran headfirst into furniture, nearly launched himself off the couch three separate times, and somehow got his head stuck inside a cereal box. Bucky spent a full five minutes just sighing and shaking his head before helping him out.

- By the end of the night, Bucky had fully accepted his fate. He sat on the couch, watching as Mr. Pickles zoomed around like a tiny white blur of chaos. “You’re exhausting,” Bucky told him. Mr. Pickles just wagged his tail, happy as ever.

- When you returned, Bucky was sitting on the floor, Mr. Pickles curled up in his lap, peacefully snoring. He glanced up at you, face unreadable. “We had a long discussion,” he said. “He’s still an idiot. But he’s our idiot.”

Matthew Murdock & Mr. Pickles

- Matt Murdock had dealt with enough surprises in life. He had lost his sight as a child, trained as a fighter, and spent his nights protecting Hell’s Kitchen. But nothing prepared him for the absolute chaos of babysitting Mr. Pickles.

- The first issue was his heightened senses. Mr. Pickles was small but somehow louder than an explosion. Every tiny footstep, every excited bark, every disastrous moment of chaos was amplified to near unbearable levels.

- Then came the smell. Matt had barely turned his back before he caught the unmistakable scent of a chewed-up shoe. He turned, unamused. “You did not just eat my dress shoes.” Mr. Pickles wagged his tail, entirely unremorseful.

- When the dog managed to escape into the hallway, Matt had no choice but to rely on his enhanced hearing to track him down. He followed the tiny, frantic paws to the stairwell—where Mr. Pickles had somehow managed to get stuck between two steps. “You are so lucky I like you,” Matt muttered, scooping him up.

- When you returned, Matt was sitting on the couch, Mr. Pickles resting on his lap. He turned his head toward you and smiled. “You didn’t tell me your dog was a criminal mastermind,” he teased. You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. “But you like him, right?” Matt sighed, stroking Mr. Pickles’ tiny head. “…Yeah. I do.”

Frank Castle & Mr. Pickles

- Frank Castle had seen hell. He had been to war, lost everything, and waged a bloody battle against crime. Babysitting your tiny, fluffy, completely clueless dog should not have been the hardest mission of his life.

- It started with the growling. Mr. Pickles hated Frank’s boots. Every time Frank took a step, the dog charged at them like a feral beast, tiny tail wagging in pure, misplaced aggression. “You got a death wish, pal?” Frank muttered. Mr. Pickles barked once.

- Frank was not a dog person. But somehow, Mr. Pickles was determined to change that. He followed Frank around like a tiny, white shadow, completely ignoring the fact that Frank was actively trying to ignore him.

- At some point, Frank gave up. He sat down, glancing at the tiny beast sitting next to him. “Alright, you win,” he muttered. Mr. Pickles immediately rolled onto his back, demanding belly rubs. Frank sighed, rubbing his face. “Unbelievable.”

- By the time you came home, Frank was sitting on the couch, a tiny, snoring Mr. Pickles curled up beside him. He looked at you, completely serious. “Your dog is a menace,” he said. Then, after a long pause, he sighed. “…But he’s a good kid.”

Marc Spector & Mr. Pickles

- Marc Spector has fought gods, mercenaries, and monsters lurking in the shadows. He has survived betrayals, bloodshed, and nights spent drowning in his own mind. But he was not prepared for Mr. Pickles.

- The dog hated structure, which was a problem, because Marc thrived on it. He tried to set a routine—food at seven, walk at eight, no chewing on anything remotely important. Within minutes, Mr. Pickles had knocked over a lamp, chewed on Marc’s combat boots, and somehow disappeared inside a kitchen cabinet.

- Jake Lockley found him first. When Marc blinked, his reflection smirked and said, “El perrito es un desastre.” (The little dog is a disaster.) When he switched to Steven, he just heard a horrified, “Marc, he’s got your cape!”

- By the end of the night, Mr. Pickles was asleep on Marc’s chest, his tiny form rising and falling with each breath. Marc sighed, staring at the ceiling. “I’ve fought Anubis. I’ve walked the path of the dead. And I was defeated… by you.”

- When you returned, you found Marc asleep on the couch, Mr. Pickles curled up against his ribs. You kissed his temple, whispering, “So, how’d it go?” Marc cracked one eye open. “I think we made a blood pact,” he muttered. “Your dog owns me now.”

Johnny Storm & Mr. Pickles

- Johnny Storm thought babysitting Mr. Pickles would be easy. He was a superhero, a celebrity, a professional fun-haver. Dogs loved him. He loved dogs. It should have been a perfect match.

- He was wrong.

- The first issue arose within ten minutes. Johnny had turned his back for two seconds when he heard a crash. He spun around to find Mr. Pickles standing victoriously on top of a knocked-over shelf, a chewed-up sock in his mouth. Johnny pointed at him. “Okay, that’s strike one.”

- Strike two came when the dog managed to climb onto Johnny’s bed, get tangled in the sheets, and somehow turn on the ceiling fan. Johnny barely caught him before he became airborne. “Buddy, you cannot just try to take flight,” he scolded, untangling him.

- By strike three, Johnny had accepted defeat. He laid on the floor, staring at the ceiling, as Mr. Pickles happily licked his face. “You win, little dude. I can’t keep up.”

- When you got home, Johnny was half-asleep, Mr. Pickles curled up in his hoodie. He groaned dramatically. “You didn’t tell me you had a tiny, fluffy supervillain.” You smirked, ruffling his hair. “But you love him, right?” Johnny sighed. “…Yeah, okay. He’s cool.”

Reed Richards & Mr. Pickles

- Reed Richards has solved equations that baffle the greatest minds of the century. He has rewritten physics, built machines that defy reality, and held the fabric of the multiverse in his hands. But nothing could have prepared him for Mr. Pickles.

- It started as an experiment. Reed, ever the scientist, wanted to study the peculiar behavior of your fluffy, oblivious dog. “It’s fascinating,” he mused, adjusting his glasses as Mr. Pickles attempted to bite his own tail and immediately fell over.

- That fascination quickly turned into mild horror when Mr. Pickles found his way into the lab. Within seconds, he had knocked over a beaker, chewed on some incredibly important notes, and—somehow—turned on the molecular destabilizer.

- Reed had to stretch halfway across the room to shut it off before anything catastrophic happened. He picked up Mr. Pickles, holding him at arm’s length. “You, sir, are an anomaly.” Mr. Pickles wagged his tail, completely unbothered.

- By the time you came home, Reed was sitting on the couch, reading quantum mechanics to Mr. Pickles, who was dozing on his lap. He adjusted his glasses. “He’s… quite the experiment.” You laughed, kissing his cheek. “But you love him, right?” Reed hesitated, then sighed. “…I suppose I do.”

Ben Grimm & Mr. Pickles

- Ben Grimm, the ever-lovin’ blue-eyed Thing, had faced cosmic horrors, supervillains, and existential crises. Babysitting your tiny, fluffy, dumb dog should’ve been easy. It was not.

- Within the first five minutes, Mr. Pickles had somehow gotten himself stuck under the couch. Ben sighed, reaching under with his massive hand and plucking the tiny dog up like a stubborn sock. “Kid, I’m tellin’ ya, you got no survival instincts.”

- Mr. Pickles, undeterred, immediately tried to chew on Ben’s massive rocky fingers. Ben raised a brow. “Oh, so you wanna scrap, huh?” The dog growled playfully, yapping at him with all the confidence of a creature who had never faced consequences.

- Eventually, Ben sat on the couch, Mr. Pickles curled up on his lap, snoring. He huffed, crossing his arms. “Ain’t no one better tell Reed about this. I got a reputation.”

- When you came back, you grinned at the sight of them together. “So, did you two bond?” Ben scoffed. “Bond? Nah. But… maybe he ain’t so bad. For a troublemaker.” Mr. Pickles snored louder. “…Yeah, yeah, I get it. You win, furball.”

Susan Storm & Mr. Pickles

- Susan Storm had dealt with far worse than a tiny, fluffy dog. Or so she thought.

- At first, everything was fine. Mr. Pickles wagged his tail, looking deceptively innocent. Susan smiled. “Oh, you’re adorable. This will be easy.” She would regret saying that.

- The second she turned around, Mr. Pickles vanished. Not literally, but it sure felt like it. Susan searched the Baxter Building, using her invisibility to sneak up on him. She found him in Reed’s lab, chewing on a very expensive-looking piece of tech.

- “Oh no, no, no—bad dog!” She swooped in, scooping him up before he could cause an explosion. Mr. Pickles licked her nose. She sighed. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

- By the time you got back, Susan was sitting on the couch, petting Mr. Pickles with one hand while rubbing her temple with the other. You grinned. “So, how did it go?” She gave you a tired smile. “…I love you, but next time, Johnny is babysitting.”

Felicia Hardy & Mr. Pickles

- Felicia Hardy had done a lot of reckless things in her life. She had stolen diamonds from locked vaults, toyed with superheroes, danced along the razor’s edge of disaster. But Mr. Pickles? He was a different kind of challenge.

- At first, she wasn’t impressed. “This is the little menace?” she had said, eyeing him. Then, five minutes later, she was chasing him around the apartment, cursing under her breath as he dodged every attempt to catch him.

- She realized, with a sort of begrudging admiration, that Mr. Pickles was fast. He slipped through her fingers, ducked under tables, and even managed to knock over a priceless antique vase she had definitely stolen.

- By the end of the night, Felicia had completely given in. She sat on the floor, watching as Mr. Pickles happily gnawed on a stolen hair tie. “You’re a little criminal,” she murmured, “and I kinda respect it.”

- When you came home, you found Felicia curled up on the couch, Mr. Pickles sleeping on her stomach. She cracked an eye open and smirked. “He’s growing on me.” You grinned. “So you love him?” Felicia stretched, running her fingers through his fur. “…Yeah. But don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.”

Stephen Strange & Mr. Pickles

- Stephen Strange was one of the most powerful sorcerers in existence. He had traveled across dimensions, held the fate of the universe in his hands, bargained with cosmic entities. Babysitting Mr. Pickles should have been beneath him.

- And yet, here he was, standing in his Sanctum Sanctorum, staring at the tiny, fluffy creature wreaking absolute havoc. “No,” he said flatly as Mr. Pickles climbed onto the Cloak of Levitation, chewed on the enchanted embroidery, and then tried to ride it like a tiny, ill-advised chariot.

- Wong walked in, took one look at the chaos, and turned right back around. “Not my problem.”

- Stephen sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alright, you little menace. You’ve bested gods and mystics alike. What do you want?” Mr. Pickles barked once, wagging his tail. “Of course. Attention.”

- When you returned, Stephen was sitting in his armchair, the Cloak of Levitation draped around both him and Mr. Pickles. He didn’t even look up as you entered. “Your dog has no respect for the eldritch arts.” You bit back a laugh. “But you love him, right?” Stephen sighed dramatically. “…Against my better judgment, yes.”

Namor & Mr. Pickles

- Namor, King of Atlantis, First Mutant, Imperius Rex—babysitting a tiny, fluffy, absurdly dumb land creature was beneath him. He had ruled for centuries, waged wars, and stood against titans. And yet, you had looked at him with those eyes, and suddenly, here he was.

- Within minutes, Mr. Pickles had launched himself into a decorative Atlantean fountain, paddling with all the grace of a drowning pearl diver. Namor, unimpressed, crossed his arms. “You are not suited for the ocean, tiny beast.” Mr. Pickles barked, thrilled.

- The palace was not meant for creatures like him. In the span of an hour, he had chewed on an ancient scroll, attempted to befriend a very unamused sea serpent, and somehow found his way into the throne room, where he proudly sat upon Namor’s throne. The royal guards had never been more confused.

- By the time you returned, Namor stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable as Mr. Pickles wagged his tail at his feet. “Your creature is reckless, absurdly ill-equipped for survival, and entirely too confident for his own good.” You bit back a smile. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

- He sighed, running a hand down his face. “Against my better judgment, I will tolerate him.” You knelt, scooping Mr. Pickles into your arms. “Oh, so you love him?” Namor scoffed, turning on his heel. “Do not push your luck.” But the way Mr. Pickles trotted after him suggested otherwise.

Johnny Blaze & Mr. Pickles

- Johnny Blaze, the Ghost Rider, had made a deal with the Devil himself—but even Mephisto hadn’t prepared him for Mr. Pickles. He was expecting something manageable, maybe even chill. Instead, he got a tiny, fluffy tornado of chaos.

- Mr. Pickles immediately attempted to fight his motorcycle. Not sniff it. Not inspect it. Fight it. The little thing barked furiously at the flaming wheels, jumping up in a wild, futile attempt to bite them. Johnny had seen demons with more self-preservation.

- When Johnny tried to take a nap, Mr. Pickles climbed onto his chest, stared directly into his soul, and promptly sneezed on his face. Johnny wiped his face with a groan. “You’re lucky you’re cute, man.”

- At some point, the dog managed to run off with Johnny’s favorite leather jacket. By the time he caught him, Mr. Pickles was rolling around in it like it was his new personal throne. Johnny narrowed his eyes. “…Alright. You win. It’s yours now.”

- When you got home, you found Johnny on the couch, absently scratching Mr. Pickles’ ears. You grinned. “So, how’d it go?” Johnny sighed. “I think I just sold my soul again. To your dog.”

Eddie Brock / Venom & Mr. Pickles

- Eddie Brock had Venom. You had Mr. Pickles. The problem was that Venom did not understand why Mr. Pickles existed.

- “Is it prey?” Venom asked within the first five minutes. Eddie sighed, rubbing his temples. “No, buddy. It’s a pet.” Venom tilted its head. “We do not eat it?” Mr. Pickles wagged his tail obliviously. “No. We do not eat it.”

- Venom, unfortunately, did not like competition. Mr. Pickles demanded attention. Venom demanded you. The standoff began immediately. Eddie woke up to find Mr. Pickles asleep on his chest, while Venom loomed above him like a shadow, glowering.

- It only got worse when Mr. Pickles stole Eddie’s sandwich. Venom raged. “The creature has taken OUR food! We must retaliate!” Eddie sighed, watching as Mr. Pickles happily chewed on his stolen prize. “Yeah, buddy. I don’t think we’re winning this war.”

- When you returned, Eddie sat on the couch, Venom’s tendrils twitching in irritation, Mr. Pickles napping peacefully on his lap. You grinned. “Venom, did you make a friend?” Venom hissed. “He is an adversary.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “…Yeah. That means yes.”

T’Challa & Mr. Pickles

- T’Challa had fought in battles that shaped history, had led a nation, had outmaneuvered gods and kings. He had not, however, anticipated Mr. Pickles.

- Shuri was absolutely delighted. She took one look at the tiny, ridiculous dog and immediately declared, “He is my favorite guest.” T’Challa, arms crossed, simply said, “He is… something.”

- Mr. Pickles was determined to challenge every Wakandan security measure. Within an hour, he had gotten past two Dora Milaje, slipped into the royal chambers, and was found happily wagging his tail atop the Vibranium throne.

- Okoye was not amused. Shuri was entertained. T’Challa sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. “This dog fears nothing.” Shuri smirked. “Much like someone else I know.”

- By the time you returned, Mr. Pickles was curled up beside T’Challa, who was absentmindedly scratching behind his ears. You crossed your arms. “So, do you love him?” T’Challa did not look up. “…I tolerate him.” Mr. Pickles licked his hand. “…Perhaps a little more than that.”

Elektra Natchios & Mr. Pickles

- Elektra had survived assassins, taken down empires, and danced in the dark with death itself. She was elegant, precise, a living weapon. Mr. Pickles, on the other hand, was a small, fluffy ball of pure idiocy.

- He immediately tried to steal one of her sais. She watched, unimpressed, as he grabbed the handle in his tiny jaws and attempted to run away. He tripped, rolled over, and barked at the ceiling in defiance. She had seen warriors with less determination.

- Despite her initial reluctance, she found herself watching him, observing. There was something admirable about his foolish bravery. His absolute lack of fear. The way he took up space despite his size.

- Eventually, he curled up next to her, snuggling against her side. Elektra, without thinking, ran her fingers through his soft fur. She had never had a pet before. She had never let herself want one. But this? This, she could allow.

- When you returned, Elektra simply looked at you, one hand still on Mr. Pickles’ back. You smirked. “So… you love him?” She arched a brow. “Love is a strong word.” Mr. Pickles snored softly against her. “…But perhaps, just this once, I can allow it.”

Victor von Doom & Mr. Pickles

- Doom did not babysit. Doom did not serve. Doom did not tolerate fools. And yet, here he was.

- He stared at Mr. Pickles. Mr. Pickles stared back, tail wagging. Doom narrowed his eyes. “You are beneath me.” Mr. Pickles barked happily. Doom scowled. “Cease.” Mr. Pickles barked again.

- The dog, completely oblivious to the concept of fear, followed Doom around Latveria. At some point, he clambered onto Doom’s throne, tail thumping against the armrest. The royal guards exchanged nervous glances. Doom exhaled slowly. “I despise this.”

- However, when a diplomat dared to insult Doom, Mr. Pickles yapped aggressively, standing protectively in front of him. Doom observed this. “Hmph. At least you recognize greatness.”

- When you returned, Doom crossed his arms. “Your creature is an idiot.” You smiled. “But did you like him?” Doom huffed. “Doom tolerates him. Nothing more.” Mr. Pickles jumped into his lap. Doom sighed. “…Fine. Perhaps a little more.”

Peter Quill & Mr. Pickles

- Peter Quill thought babysitting a tiny dog would be easier than babysitting Rocket. He was wrong.

- “Okay, little dude, let’s make this easy.” Mr. Pickles promptly stole one of his mixtapes. “HEY! That’s vintage!” A chase ensued across the Milano, Star-Lord versus a fluffy menace.

- Eventually, Peter gave up. Mr. Pickles sat triumphantly atop his pillow, the mixtape still in his mouth. Peter sighed. “You’re lucky I got a soft spot for troublemakers.”

- The dog, realizing he had won, curled up beside him. Peter smirked. “Alright, fine. You can stay.” Mr. Pickles snuggled closer. Peter grumbled. “…Don’t tell Rocket about this.”

- When you got back, you found them both asleep on the couch. You whispered, “So, how did it go?” Without opening his eyes, Peter muttered, “I think I just lost my ship to your dog.”

Nova & Mr. Pickles

- Richard Rider had fought space tyrants, cosmic gods, and existential threats. Mr. Pickles, somehow, was worse.

- Mr. Pickles had no concept of galactic law. Within minutes, he had tried to steal a Nova Corps helmet, chewed on an important report, and attempted to fight a very confused alien.

- Richard sighed, picking up the tiny menace. “Okay, dude. I don’t have time for intergalactic incidents. Work with me here.” Mr. Pickles licked his face. Richard groaned. “…I give up.”

- By the end of the day, the entire Nova Corps had begrudgingly accepted Mr. Pickles. Someone even made him a tiny Nova helmet. Richard just sighed. “I am never living this down.”

- When you returned, Richard handed Mr. Pickles to you. “Your dog is now an honorary Nova Corps member.” You laughed. “So, did you love him?” Richard huffed. “…He’s alright.” Mr. Pickles barked happily. “…Fine. Maybe a little more than alright.”

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lowkeyerror · 6 months ago

Text

Instant Attraction pt2

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 9.8k

Notes: StepMom!Wanda, cunnilingus, fingering, strap-on sex, intoxication, fluff, angst, mentions of abuse with minimal descriptions of physical acts of violence towards children

Summary: Your dad left, the twins went with Jarvis leaving you and Wanda with some alone time, but it doesn’t seem to last too long.

An: It took awhile but I got it up. If I decide to continue writing for this I'm ngl it seems like something I'll update monthly, because it's just kind of a lot to write but realistically I only see like 1 to 2 more parts happening. Thanks for the love and all the request for a second part hope I delivered 🫶.

Previous Part | Masterlist

Seven days. You had waited seven long days to have Wanda to yourself. Whatever apology your dad offered hadn’t placated the woman. There was still tension in the house up until the day he left. Everything was calm after that.

You spent more time with Billy and Tommy, further strengthening your bond. Wanda had been working a lot, but still made time to spend with the three of you together. Seeing the intensity of her workload, you had taken on cooking, not minding if it gave her one less thing to stress over.

You didn’t think you’d be so reluctant to let Billy and Tommy go their father’s, but when the day came you couldn’t help but fuss over them.

“Listen, I know your mom told you to call if her happened, but you can call me too. I’ll come get you guys, it’s no problem. Any time for any reason alright?”

“Thank you Y/n,” Billy speaks sincerely.

You tussle his hair, “It’s nothing.”

Tommy gives you a side hug, “Take care of our mom.”

“Will do, I’ll see you guys soon,” you chuckle.

Wanda walks them out to the car. You watch as Jarvis gets out when the boys get in. You can see him running his mouth, but it’s quite clear to you that Wanda isn’t having it. She begins chastising him in the street. The way he can’t refute her puts a smile on your face.

The asshole deserves to be treated that way. You can see the way his shoulder slump as he gets back in the car.

Anticipation builds as you see Wanda heading back to the door. This is the moment you had been waiting for. As soon as the door closes, you’re on her. Your body towers over her’s, slightly trapping her between you and the door.

You look down at her, with lustful eyes. Her hand cups the side of your face and you lean into her touch. Her gaze falls at a snail’s pace from your eyes to your lips.

“We're alone.”

“And what do you plan to do about that?”

Instead of answering the question verbally, your lips bare down on her’s. Her back hits the door with a soft thud due to your intensity. Yet she doesn't want you to slow down. Her arms lock behind your neck as her legs try to hook onto your waist. You’re quick to hold her under her thighs, supporting her with eases.

It's your sign to take her upstairs. There’s no hesitation as you head straight for the master bedroom. She giggles against your lips as you lay her onto the bed. Your kisses create a path from her lips down the side of her face to her neck. You’re careful to suck lightly, even though you wish to mark her. Your teeth glide over her skin animalistically.

Her hands roam freely under your shirt, the skin feels as though it's burning with desire. Her fingers are cold against you, but you love the contrasting sensation.

Her eyes are dark when they meet yours again, “You want to take it off for me baby?” Wanda tugs at your shirt a little and you’re eager to comply.

She slips her shirt over her head at the same time. The swells of her breast call to you immediately. The soft mounds of perfection, held up by a lace bra that left little to the imagination. Her perky nipples peak through and you can tell they’re stiff.

You can feel your hands twitching, eager to feel them, but waiting patiently for her consent.

Wanda laughs at the dumb look on your face. You’re practically drooling over her.

“Come here,” Wanda calls for you to invade her personal space and you oblige. “Unhook my bra,” her eyes dare you.

Your hands are steady as the reach behind Wanda. You undo the clasp and you can you feel yourself instantly dampen. The way your hands crave contact with the supple flesh strikes your core.

You reach for one, focusing on the soft gasps you hear from Wanda as your thumb cascades over her nipple. You rub the already stiff peak between your fingers before making a show of licking over it all the way up to the sweet spot of her neck.

An open mouth kiss lingers where your tongue stops. It’s then that you look to her. The slight swelling of her lips, the desperate looking her eye, the sweat of her brow. She was perfect and with no one around she was yours to claim.

Your eyes drop from her face down her chest to the jeans she had on.

“Ask me,” she whispers.

“I need to see it up close, please mommy,” you beg her earnestly.

She nods her head, chest already heaving lightly. Your hands reach for the top button of her jeans when your phone goes off. You ignore it the first time, but it continues to ring.

Wanda sighs thinking that you would take the call, instead she’s surprised when you simply turn off the device. With a new frustration in your movements you slide her pants down her legs.

“You aren’t going to get that?”

Your fingers toy with the elastic of her panties, “You think I’d answer the phone with you in front of me like this?”

Wanda looks away in shame, “Well-"

“He’s a fucking idiot,” you pull her panties to the side.

You lay on your stomach so that you’re eye level with her wet pussy. You’re tongue barely slides through her folds before you hear your doorbell repeatedly ringing as someone pounds on the door.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you say in frustration.

You throw your shirt back on and rush to the door. Wanda is hot on your tails with her jeans half on and her shirt in hand. You yank the door open to find Yelena standing there with a smirk on her face.

“What do you want?” You do your best not to yell at her.

Yelena holds her hands up in surrender, “I know you are, how they say, a little pent up as of late, but don’t be going and yelling at me.”

“Sorry, I was just… in the middle of something.”

“Your games can wait, tonight we club.”

You had completely forgotten.

“Right, right, the club,” you run a hand through your hair.

“I know technically she’s your friend, but I invited Kate Bishop to come with us, it’s going to be a night to never forget.”

“And when are we leaving?”

“Hmmm come over at 8, we’ll pick up Kate Bishop, and go from there.”

You nod a few times, “Cool, I’ll be over at 8.”

Yelena put a hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry, this will definitely help you with your… situation. And please don’t dress like a 12-year-old boy, you are hot, stop hiding it.”

With that Yelena leaves and you close the door.

“You’re going to a club?” Wanda’s voice startles you, you had almost forgotten that she was there.

“I guess so. I agreed to go a week ago, but it slipped my mind.”

Her eyes narrow, “And what situation is she referring to?”

You stride towards her, and place your hands on her hips, “You know, just the whole being attracted to my step mother thing. I’m supposed to go clubbing to distract me from her.”

Wanda’s cheeks get rosy, “I got you so worked up that you told the neighbor about it.”

“First of all she’s my best friend. Secondly, we had almost kissed and were trying to do the right thing. At the time the right thing was going out and having fun with people my age.” You lean in so your lips touch her ear, “But now I think I just want my mommy.”

With much effort Wanda speaks up, “It’s almost 6, you should start getting ready.”

You frown, “I don't want to go.”

“Too late, your friends are expecting you. Yelena literally almost broke the door down. Besides if you don't go tonight, she'll just try for another day. Anything to help you get over your dad’s wife, right?”

Your hand fumbles with her jeans. She doesn't stop you as you pull them down, or when you drop to your knees, “At least let me make you cum. I’ll get ready right after. I promise.”

“Y/n,” she tries to hold strong.

You nudge her legs slightly apart. Just like before your tongue swipes through her folds. This time you suck lightly on her clit before looking at her innocently.

“Want to make you cum so bad mommy, please.” you beg her, reveling in the way she tastes.

Wanda wasn’t used to this at all. Before you came it had been too long since Wanda felt attractive. She was truly astonished by the way you wanted her. In this moment denying you felt like denying herself.

Carefully her hand threaded through your hair. Her grip wasn’t tight, but you were controlled by it nonetheless.

“Go ahead baby, show me how much you need me.”

You were more anxious this time than in the bedroom. Something about this being your first time going this far with anyone finally started to rattle around in your brain. You had to make her cum, that's what you focused on.

So with your hands on her thighs and her hand in your hair, you surge forward a bit. Your tongue dips into her folds, at first dragging back and forth between them. Her taste on your tongue makes you moan. Your tongue swirls her clit before taking it into your mouth.

“You’re such a good girl for me. Flatten your tongue a little.”

You do as she says and the grip on your hair tightens slightly. She moves your head back and forth as you keep your tongue pressed against her.

“That’s it baby, get that tongue inside of me,” Wanda’s eyes are closed and her head is thrown back.

Your tongue prods against her slit trying to make its way inside of her. You move her hands to the back of her thighs pulling her closer to you. She’s as close as she can be when your tongue slips into her warm cunt. It doesn’t go in far, but it’s just enough to have her moaning your name.

“Fuck, look at me while you tongue fuck me,” she uses your hair to tilt your head up a bit.

You’re drunk on her at this point. You feel like you’re in a state of euphoria, as her juices slide down your chin.

The small pants from Wanda only spur you on. What was a slow, explorative pace turns into something fast and unhinged. You begin to fall in love with the sound of your tongue swiping through her. The sloppiness of it all feels delicious.

“I’m going to cum on that pretty little face,” it’s airy when she says it, her knees buckle.

Her hold on your hair loosens as she cums. The increase of the amount of wetness makes you want to keep going, but the shaking of Wanda’s knees make you slow. You stand, placing your hands on her hips, to help steady her.

“You taste so good mommy,” you lick your lips, keeping eye contact with the woman.

She pulls you into a deep kiss. She has a fistful of your shirt, making sure you don't pull away from her before she’s ready. Her tongue explores your mouth trying to capture every last taste of herself lingering on you.

“You did so well for me,” she pecks your lips once more.

The way your ears heat at the compliment has Wanda chuckling.

“You’re so bashful when I compliment you, pretty girl,” her hand brushes over your face.

You know that the tips of your ears are bright red by now. You burry your head in the woman’s shoulder, “It’s my first time doing anything like that.”

Wanda doesn’t believe you, “There’s no way.”

“I’m serious, the farthest I’ve gone is dry humping, this…” you pull your head out of her shoulder to motion between the two of you, “will be my first time, going past that.”

You see the look dances in her eyes, “Are you telling me, that no one has got to experience you like this before?”

“Only you mommy,” you fall into her fantasy seamlessly.

“How do you feel about that?”

Her hands subconsciously slide up and down your body. Her lip fits in-between her teeth, pulling slightly as her eyes find yours.

“I want you to take everything you want from me,” you tell her seriously.

Her fingers are cool against your skin, “You’re going to give it to me?”

You take her hand guide it down your torso and into your pants. She gasps when she feels how wet she’s made you, “Anything you want.”

“I want you… to go get ready for your night out,” she says, placing her fingers into her mouth.

She pushes you away from her playfully. You whine her, “Wanda.”

“Come on, I’ll even pick out your outfit,” she starts walking upstairs.

With your head dropped you reluctantly follow behind her, unable to stop yourself from mumbling, “Should be undressing me, instead."

“What was that?” Wanda’s sharp eyes hit yours.

You straighten your posture, “Nothing, nothing. I was just saying I can't wait to see what you pick.”

Wanda laughs, “Careful detka, I’d hate to have to give you a punishment.”

Your mouth hangs open at the thought, saliva pooling with desire.

Wanda shakes her head, grabbing you by the upper arm. She leads you to the bathroom. She shoves you inside, “You’re going to need a cold shower, to get your mind out of the gutter. While you do that, I’ll get your clothes ready.”

You try to decompress as the cold water runs down your body. Every time you take a deep inhale all you smell is Wanda on your face. You close your eyes and you see her urging you to be good for her.

You rest your head on the shower wall trying to get a grip. Your focus shifts to the way water feels against your skin. It’s cold, rigid, grounding. After you finish showering you do your skin care and brush your teeth as well.

When you make your way to the bedroom, you find Wanda sitting on your bed next to some of the clothes she had gotten for you. The towel that you had around you seems to garner a lot of her attention.

You can’t help but tease her, “You still want to help me get ready, or you just want to stare?”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, put these on, quickly so I can do your makeup.”

“I don’t really-"

“Trust me,” she bats her eyelashes at you.

You scoop up the clothes, “Fine.”

You drop the towel and she watches as you dress yourself. When you’re done, she stands and adjusts your clothes to how she likes them. You had apparently pulled the jeans up too high and she was quick to unbutton a large portion of buttons on the shirt. You had the shirt all the way tucked in and she pulled it so that one end of the shirt hung out.

You watch in your mirror, as she worked over your clothes. The shirt now plunged into a low V, which is something you never would have done on your own.

“Perfect, now get on the bed.”

You lay with your back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling pretending to be uninterested in the things Wanda is gathering in her hands. When she has the things she needs, she sets them on the bed next to your legs. The makeup is not entirely foreign to you, but you’re definitely no expert in it.

Wanda the straddles your waist, her hair dangles down as she studies your face. You feel your nerves picking up under her gaze. She was truly one of the most breathtaking people that you had ever laid your eyes on.

“Stop looking at me like that,” it’s not until she speaks that you notice her blush.

You look away, but her fingers grip your chin gently moving you back to the original position, “Sorry."

“It’s not going to be too much, I promise,” she begins applying some light make up to your face.

“Wanda, have you… done this before?”

“Makeup?”

You want to shake your head but you stop yourself because of your current predicament, “No, like been with a woman.”

“A few,” she answers nonchalantly.

“Oh.”

She doesn’t stop working, “Does that matter to you?”

“No, I was just curious.” You pause for a long moment before saying, “Like in college or?”

“Close your eyes,” she commands and your eyelids shut. “ In high school, in college, out of college, I’ve found my way around.”

“So it’s common for you, to um date women?”

Wanda nods, “Well yes, I like women, they’re pretty. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, I just- where does my dad come into the picture?”

“Cause he’s a man?”

“Well…”

Wanda chuckles to herself, “Sweetheart I like men too, maybe just a little less.”

You choke a bit, “Oh yeah, duh.”

She finishes with your eyes, “Can I ask you something, Y/n?”

“Anything.”

“Have you ever dated?”

You sputter for an answer, “ I mean- unsuccessfully, yes. Like I’ve been on dates, but they’ve never really progressed.”

“You said you dry-humped.”

You feel yourself growing embarrassed, “I did, but I never said she was my girlfriend. I’m not… people don’t really date me. I’m not exciting or adventurous or anything like that. I’ve got average looks, but I’m so socially inept that it just kind of-"

Wanda stops your rambling with a kiss, “I think you’re a catch. Now sit up so I can do your lips.”

A nasty thought swirls in your head, you try to keep it down, but it’s out of your lips before you can stop it, “I think you’re just saying that because I can make you cum.”

Wanda’s eyes look into yours, it feels like she’s staring into your soul, “I’m not. I’m saying it because you’ve shown it to me. You’re attentive, you’re dedicated, you’re kind, you know when to take charge, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’re charming, and funny, the fact that you can make me cum is just the icing on the cake. I was drawn to you before we even became intimate.”

“How can you see all that in such a short time?”

Her hand slips into yours, her thumb cascades over your knuckles, “It’s impossible not to see, Y/n.”

You clear your throat, “Sorry, I’m just not used to the um praise I guess.”

“Don’t apologize, I don't have any problems reassuring you whenever you need it. You deserve it, pretty girl,” Wanda places one more quick kiss on your lips.

She finishes up with your look. When you see yourself, a wide smile spreads across your face. You look amazing, you feel a strange sense of confidence burst through you.

“Thank you, for helping me get ready.”

“I couldn't let you go out without a little help. Now, you look good enough to eat. I hope you're prepared to keep the crowd off of you tonight.”

You reach for her and she lets herself enter your grasp, “I only have eyes for you.”

“You say that now, but it’ll be harder when some sweet young girl is pulling you onto the dance floor,” her gaze drops.

“I’ve never really had a thing for girls my age. I’ve always liked them older. Not to mention you’re the perfect woman.”

“Nobody’s perfect, Y/n,” she tries to escape your hold.

“I thought that same thing, but then I saw you and I knew I’d been lied to.”

She blushes and you let her go, “You’re so corny. I think it’s time for you to go to Yelena’s. Wouldn’t want her to come breaking down the door again.”

“And you'll be waiting for me when I come back?”

She throws you a smile over her shoulder, “ I’ll be right here.”

You send her one back. You start to head to the front door, but you turn back half way. It was impossible for you leave without giving her one last kiss.

“I’ll see you later,” you say walking away one last time.

You exit the house and head for Yelena’s, when you knock she answers quickly.

“You look amazing, I never knew this was possible for you.”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up, and let's go get Kate.”

“Do I not get a compliment?”

You huff, “You look great, can we go now?”

“You’re so mean to me,” she says stepping out of her home.

She flashes her keys and you hop in the passenger seat of her car. During the drive you catch up on more that you missed while you were at school. Not just neighborhood gossip, but specifically what had been going on in Yelena’s life. When the topic shifts back to you she asks about Wanda.

“So how've you been holding up?”

You weigh your options briefly. Tell the truth or lie to Yelena. It made sense to say nothing had changed, but that's complete bullshit that Yelena would see right through.

“Things are still complicated, but it’s different now,” you say uncertainly.

“What does that mean?”

You look out of the window, “My dad’s on this trip for work, he’ll be gone for a month, maybe longer.”

“So it’s you, the kids, and Wanda?”

“Not exactly, the kids left this morning. So it’s just me and Wanda.”

Yelena whistles, “You poor soul. Just you and your forbidden fruit right there for the taking.”

You sink down in your seat, “What if I did?”

“Did what?”

“Take it; what if I crossed that line?”

Yelena laughs, “I don't think you have a shot Y/n.”

“But if I did, would it be wrong? You should've seen how they fought Yelena. My dad didn't tell Wanda about his work trip until 3 days before he was supposed to leave. She blew up on him, but well deserved. The guy hasn't changed, never there for the people that need him the most.”

She sighs, “I think morally it’s wrong. That's your dad’s wife… but if you're asking me if I'd judge you for it, then I would not. She’s an attractive, kind, woman who, let’s be honest, is too good for your dad.”

“Ok.”

“Any particular reason you are asking me this?”

You clear your throat, “Well, I- we…”

“No way,” Yelena turns to you fully.

“THE ROAD, LENA LOOK AT THE ROAD.”

She readjusts her hands on the wheel and looks forward, “Y/n did you fuck your stepmom?”

“Technically no… but maybe she came on my thigh and I ate her out,” you say it so fast Yelena almost doesn’t understand.

“Oh my god! How did this happen? What did you do? I thought we were putting distance not full sending?”

“I told you she was arguing with my dad. I kind of had to take charge of the situation. The kids were there so we went upstairs. I came back down to like be an adult and end their argument it worked. The boys fell asleep in my room so I went to theirs. She was in there… she asked me if I would leave, I said no. One thing led to another.”

“WITH THE WHOLE FAMILY THERE?!?!”

“It was the heat of the moment. We waited until the twins left before it happened again but then I was nearly cock blocked by a blonde psycho banging on my door.”

She looks at you again, “I can’t believe this. What about your dad?”

“I don't know, but I’m not giving her up without a fight,” your tone is stubborn as you speak.

“So… new plan for tonight. You’re getting wasted enough to forget the consequences of your actions.”

“Sounds good to me.”

When you pull in front of Kate's place, you go to text her, but Yelena stops you. She gets out of the car and goes up to the girl’s door. When Kate opens the door, you watch them converse.

You take note of how Yelena continuously seems to fluster Kate. You’re starting to think you know why Yelena invited the brunette in the first place.

“Hi Katie, glad you could join us.”

“I don't think I had much of a choice Yelena basically said it was for the greater good and that I needed to come for your sake.”

You give the blonde a light glare and she raises her hands in defense, “Don’t be mad at me for caring.”

“I’ll explain on the way.”

So you do just that on the way to the club. Kate’s reactions were hilarious making the blonde woman in the driver’s seat last. You had just finished when you guys arrived at the club.

“We should’ve pre-gamed harder,” Kate says when you finish telling the story. “Y/n this is quite literally the craziest thing you’ve done in your life.”

“By far,” Yelena adds on.

“I’m aware, but I can’t bring myself to regret it or feel guilty. For the first time in my life I feel like I’m doing something for myself.”

Yelena parks the car as you get close to the destination. You all get out and begin walking to the club.

“You know what? Fuck yeah, Y/n,” Kate pulls you into her side.

Yelena puts her hand on your shoulder, “And when this inevitably goes wrong or gets super complex, we’ll be here for you irregardless.”

“Regardless,” Kate corrects her.

“Same thing.”

You wrap your arms around both of them, “Enough talking, tonight we drink. To being young, wild, and reckless.”

As you enter the building the music is blasting at max volume. It’s packed, as people dance to the beat of the song. Bodies are everywhere and the only lights are the colorful splotches that move across the room.

“I thought you hated the club?”

“I do, but hopefully drinking will change that,” you scream over the music.

Yelena takes charge leading the three of you to the bar. There’s two seats so you stand as the other two sit down. The blonde has already ordered a round of shots for you to down.

She reaches her hand out to Kate who takes it curiously. Yelena pulls Kate into her lap, and your former dorm mate yelps in surprise. Your neighbor keeps the smile on her face as she looks at you, “Sit.”

You eye them, “Is there something I should know about?”

Kate turns a deep shade of red, “Uh um.”

Yelena just chuckles, “No, but I am working on it. Are you opposed to this Kate Bishop?”

“Well, no,” she cautiously meets Yelena’s eyes.

“Perfect, I’ll drink to that,” Yelena picks up one of the shots.

You two follow suit, immediately as she orders another round. It takes about 4 shots before you feel the nerves that you had settle.

Guess by Charli XCX and Billie Eilish starts to play in the club.

“I fucking love this song, let’s dance,” Kate gets off Yelena’s lap and pulls her to the dance floor.

You follow the pair feeling the beat of the song travel through your body. Your dancing consist of a lot of jumping as you scream the lyrics along with the rest of the club.

You’re in your own world so you don't notice a girl dancing behind you until you almost turn into her.

“Hi,” she shouts over the music.

“Hi,” you don't stop dancing.

Your movements cause a smile to spread across her face, “I like the way you dance.”

“Thanks, it’s the alcohol.”

“I’m Cass, do you mind if I dance with you?”

In the moment you thought nothing of it, “Sure, I'm Y/n.”

You dance with the brunette. There are a few times when her hands brush against your body, but you think it's tight space, that makes it impossible to be anything but close to her. You end up being pushed up against each other. She stumbles into your arms. You grab her shoulders so she doesn't fall.

“You good there?”

“You’re really pretty, and oh your arms are pretty buff too,” she looks up at you through her eyelashes.

It sobers you up a bit, “You here alone Cass?”

She shakes her head, “No I came with my friends.”

“Let’s help you find them.”

She grabs on to your shirt, “But I like it here, with you.”

You take her hand in yours and off of your shirt, “That's nice, but what if your friends are worrying about you?”

“You’ll keep me safe won’t you,” her hand moves to swipe some hair behind your ear.

“Y/n, there you are… who is this?”

“This is Cass, she needs to find her friends,” you look at them for help.

She pouts, “Why, when the girl of my dreams is right in front of me?”

Kate interjects, “Don’t you want to introduce her to your friends?”

Cass's eyes sparkle and she grabs your wrist, “Eli and America will love you.”

She begins dragging you through the club while both of your friends do their best to keep up.

“Cassandra Lang, we've been looking for you, “ another girl comes up and pulls the blonde from you.

“America, this is Y/n the love of my life,” Cass throws her arms around her friend.

Her friends raises an eyebrow as she looks at you. You shake your head.

“I’m not the love of her life. I found her on the dancefloor and thought I'd try to get her to her friends,” you explain.

Cass frowns, “But I thought we had something?”

A man approaches and ruffles her hair, “You have had too many drinks. Sorry about her.”

“It’s alright. Well I’m going to get another drink. It was nice dancing with you Cass,” you send her polite smile.

“I love you, Y/n,” she says as you walk away.

“She was pretty cute, Y/nn,” Kate says as you wait for another drink.

“Kate Bishop remember she’s whipped by the red headed milf,” Yelena reminds her.

You nod as you sip your drink, “Damn right.”

You pull out your phone and see you have a couple missed calls from your dad. He calls again while the phone’s in your hand. You pick it up even though you can barely hear it in the club.

“Hello!”

“Kid where are you at? I’ve called you and Wanda and I haven’t-”

“I’m clubbing, Wanda’s home. I’ll talk to you later,” you hang up on him before he says anything else.

You down your drink and get another after that.

“You don’t want to slow down?” Yelena watches you.

“Nope.”

You don’t slow down. Having a few more drinks before hitting the dance floor again. You’re definitely a little more than buzzed. The more you start to realize how intoxicated you are, the more you want to go home.

Your mind starts to wander to Wanda. Her body, her lips on your neck, her voice in your ear. You start to picture her riding you, but not your thigh this time. She’s fully naked bouncing on your lap and your mouth is occupied sucking on her nipples.

“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself.

You see Yelena and Kate dancing in the corner. It looks like they’re caught up with each other. As much as hated to interrupt them you did it anyway.

“Lovebirds, I’m going to get a Lyft home,” you shout at them.

“You don't want me to take you, I haven’t had anything since we came in?” Yelena says.

“Nah, you two have fun, ok?”

Yelena nods, “Let us know when you make it safe.”

“Will do.”

The Lyft ride is a little hazy. By the time you get to your house, it feels like you’re in full heat.

You attempt to open the door but the key keeps slipping through your fingers. Your hands are shaking as you attempt to get in. The door swings open causing you to drop they keys.

You crouch down to get them off the ground. When you raise your head, you see Wanda looking down at you with her arms crossed.

A silk robe adorned her body and it left little to the imagination.

“Your dad called me, he’s mad I let you go to a club,” she says.

“Oh.”

She tilts her head to the side, “Are you going to say down there all night?”

You stand up quickly, nearly dropping the keys again. When you step into the house, Wanda closes the door behind you.

“How’d you get home?”

You stare brute answering, “Lyft.”

“Where’s Yelena?”

“She stayed with Kate at the club. I wanted to come home. I missed you,” you step into her personal space, hands playing with the bottom of her silk robe.

“We have to talk about what your dad said,” Wanda tries to grab your attention.

“I don’t want to talk about him. I want to show you how much I missed you,” your warm hand closes over her cool one.

You slide her hand into your pants. Her fingers brush in-between your fold barely grazing your clit as she pulls her hand away.

“You’re drunk,” Wanda says it more to herself than you.

“And horny. So definitely not the time to talk about my dad. Especially when all I can think about is mommy.”

Wanda visibly sigh before taking your hand in hers and pulling you up the stairs. You finally think you’re getting what you need, until she directs you towards the bathroom.

Once you’re in there you sit on the counter top.

“Y/n you need to- what’s that?”

Your brows furrow, “What?”

“That on your chest,” Wanda’s jaw clenches as she speaks.

You try to look down at your chest failing to see what she’s talking about, “My boobs?”

“There’s lipstick on you,” she swipes her thumb across it raising up so you can see the pink color coating it.

“Oh, it must be from Cass.”

“Who’s Cass?”

Your eyes close as you try to recount the story, “There was this girl at the club, she was dancing with me and saying that I was like the love of her life or something? She was so drunk she fell like into me. We found her friends though, and then I got more drinks. She was kind of pretty but like my friends said I’m whipped by this red headed milf that lives in my house. Whoops sorry I said milf.”

Wanda went through a lot of emotions as you were speaking. The thought that some girl from the club tried to claim you made her jealous. Some girl putting her hands on you, her lips on you, saying you were the love of her life just made her furious. However she thought it was cute that you said you were whipped for her. She also didn’t hate being called a milf.

“Y/n let’s get you cleaned up,” Wanda turns on the shower.

“If I take my clothes off, will you fuck me?”

She snorts, “No, because you’re drunk.”

You pout, “This fucking sucks.”

Wanda kisses your forehead, “If you can get yourself clean and ready for bed, we can kiss a little.”

That’s all it takes for your clothes to come off and you to rush into the shower. While you’re in the shower Wanda picks out some pajamas for you and takes them back into the bathroom. She decides to wait for you to finish in your room. She makes herself comfortable on your bed.

Around 10 minutes later she hears your feet padding along the hallway floor. Soon you’re opening the door and falling face first into the bed, the alcohol making you sleepy.

“So too tired to kiss?”

She doesn’t expect a response, but she finds it adorable when you scoot closer to her. Your legs tangle with her and you drape an arm over her. Lastly you lift your head, with your eyes still closed, puckering your lips.

She gives you a soft kiss and you tuck your head into her shoulder. You mumble a ‘goodnight’ and it seems you’re out in an instant.

When you wake up the next morning the bed is empty. There’s hardly any light peeking through your curtains, but the little light that is makes you squint your eyes. Your head is throbbing and you groan recounting how much you drank last night.

When you sit up in the bed you notice the water and what you assume to be Advil on your bed side table. You gulp down the water and take the pills without hesitation.

You check your phone and your eyes widen as you see that it is 2pm. The time shocks you but doesn’t make you move any faster. You change into some sweats before brushing your teeth and heading downstairs.

“I didn’t think I’d be seeing you until the sun went down again,” Wanda calls from the kitchen.

You follow her voice, seeing her wash dishes. You move with confidence, hugging her from behind and resting your head on top of hers.

“I’m never going clubbing again,” you kiss the top of her head.

“Do you remember anything from when you came home?”

You frown, “Something about my dad.”

She turns in your arms, “Yeah, he called me pretty upset because someone hung up in his face.”

“Well what was I supposed to do? I could hardly hear him. Plus he only called me because you weren’t answering,” you explain to her.

“I told him you were old enough to make your own decisions and that I wouldn’t be stopping you “

“Good.”

“I also told him you’d call him back today…”

You separate from her begrudgingly, “Fine, I’ll get it over with now.”

The call to your dad was nothing special. He tried to scold you a little bit, but you reminded him that you were an adult that could do what you wanted. Then he turned the conversation into just wanting to make sure you’re safe and that home is safe. He asked about if you knew what Wanda was up to while you were gone which threw you for a loop.

He was extra curious about her whereabouts and activities since she was home alone. You told him you didn’t know. With the boys gone and your night out it was seeming like he was stressing about what she could’ve been doing.

“I just want to make sure that you know there’s nothing strange going on while I’m away,” he says towards the end of the conversation.

“What you think she’s having someone come over or something?”

He pauses, “No, I just- sometimes when Jarvis stops by, I get a little territorial you know, like this is mine and-”

“You don’t own her dad and I’ll have you know she actually just laid into him yesterday about what he’s been saying to Billy.”

“I wasn’t saying I owned her. It’s just Wanda is an amazing woman and I just don’t want to lose her.”

You roll your eyes, “Well that’s what conversation is for. Talk to her, communicate your feelings, and trust her.”

You hear him click his tongue, “I see what you’re saying. I gotta go kid, I’ll talk to you soon. Love you.”

When he gets off of the phone you’re annoyed with him. However it’s a little funny that he has every right to be worried. He doesn’t know the person he’s worried about is you.

“So what did he want?”

“To make sure you weren’t inviting anyone over while no one else was home because, and this is a direct quote, he gets a little territorial and you are his.”

She ponders, “Well I am his wife.”

You disagree, “His wife not his property. He doesn't own you.”

“And if we were married instead?”

“If we were married you would be mine but I would be yours too. I’d trust you and your judgement. There’s no way I’d ask my kid to keep tabs on you,” you say without skipping a beat.

“He’s got you all worked up, sweetheart,” Wanda gets behind you and starts rubbing your shoulders. “You’re too young to be this tense, go sit on the couch for me.”

Shortly after you sit on the couch Wanda stands behind you, continuing to put a subtle pressure on your shoulders.

A moan drips from your mouth as she works the knots in your shoulders, “Oh god.”

“You know I was thinking last night about how you've made feel good and I haven't returned the favor. I think it would really get some of this tension off of you baby.”

You tilt your head back to stare up at her. She pecks your lips once, twice, three times before your hands rests on her face holding her in the upside-down kiss.

Her hand reaches to tug at the bottom of your shirt. You eagerly pull it over your head. She takes the time to rid herself of her shirt as well. She comes over to the other side of the couch so she’s facing you.

Almost like you did yesterday she gets on her knees. She pulls your sweats and you help her get them off.

She kisses up your thighs, your legs tremble with excitement. It causes her to giggle against you but she doesn’t stop with her kisses.

When she reaches your underwear she makes eye contact with you, “Are you sure?”

“Please mommy, I want to cum,” you say not breaking eye contact.

She rids you of the underwear and spreads your legs a bit. Just from a small make out and shoulder rub, you’re wet.

Wanda plays with idea in her mind of what she wants to do first. She decides to slide one of her fingers inside of you. She watches the way your hands squeeze the couch cushions.

“You’re so tight and warm. I don’t think your pussy would even give me my finger back,” she watches as your cunt sucks in her finger.

Her pumps are slow at first to allow you to adjust but soon she picks up the speed.

“More, I need more please,” you say with your eyes screwed shut.

“Look at me,” Wanda commands.

You do as you’re told and she slips in another finger at your compliance. Your head falls forward and your breathing intensifies as you watch her finger fuck you.

“That’s it pretty girl, open up for me,” she starts spreading you with her fingers.

Her thumb makes light contact with your clit. You almost arch off of the couch, but she keeps you grounded.

“So sensitive baby, could you handle it if I-” she cuts herself off, deciding to stroke your clit with her tongue. It’s sensual as she takes it into her mouth, sucking lightly. Her fingers continuing to pump into you.

“I- fuck, I’m going to cum,” you mewl, gripping onto the couch with all of your strength.

“Cum for mommy,” Wanda looks up at you briefly before refocusing on your pussy.

Her teasing pace becomes more solid as her fingers and tongue work in tandem to bring you to your climax.

The heat builds inside of you, unlike anything you've experienced by yourself, and soon it’s seeping out of you. Your body convulses as you cum with Wanda’s mouth on your clit and fingers buried inside you.

Your eyes are wide and breathing is short as she slowly works you through your orgasm. When she senses you’ve come down, she climbs up into your lap. Her lips capture yours in a sweet kisses.

She’s gentle as your tired lips attempt to keep up with her’s. Your hands finally leave the couch cushions to rest on her lower back, unwilling to put any distance between the two of you.

“You did so well for me detka,” she strokes your hair, kissing you on your forehead.

“I’ve never felt anything like that in my life,” you say breathlessly.

Wanda takes your earlobe in her mouth playfully, “Get used to it.”

She attempts to get out of your lap, but you don’t let her, “What about you?”

“I have to get back to work.”

You plead, “I can be quick.”

The desperation in your tone only makes her more wet than she already is. She ponders over what to do. Then she realizes, that perhaps, she could do both.

“Follow me, leave your pants off,” she taps your shoulder twice, slipping out of your hold.

She throws her shirt back over her head and walks upstairs. You follow her, naked and on slightly unsteady legs.

She leads you into the main bedroom. She has her work equipment set up on the desk in the corner. You watch as she goes into the closet, anxious to see what the woman was planning.

When she comes back she has a shoe box in hand. She sits it on the bed and beckons you closer before opening it.

“You’re going to fill me up while I work,” She holds up a harness, and you feel yourself getting warm at the thought.

She helps you put it on, attaching what you believe to be a slightly larger than usual dildo. She lubes it up before passing you to her office chair. She lightly pushed you down on top the seat.

You watch as she makes quick work of removing her pants. You lick your lips when you notice the wet spot she had in her panties.

Her hands hold the arm rests of the chair while you take her hips in your hand helping lower her on to the strap.

You focus on the way her breath hitches as she takes more and more of you. Once you’re all the way in she slowly rides you. The way her pussy opens around the cock has you mesmerized. You test your luck thrusting lightly into her, eliciting a light whine.

“I love the way you feel inside me,” she rolls her hips again.

Your hand move to rest on her stomach, while your head rests on her shoulder. You peer at the computer screen in front of you, vaguely posing attention to what she's working on.

“Are you going to be able to finish, like this?”

“The work or…”

You kiss her shoulder, “Both.”

She nods, “I think so. I just need you to move for me, slowly almost the same pace as your breathing. Build me up so I can cum on your fat cock. Can you do that for mommy?”

You carefully thrust inside her, “I can do that. “

You watch as she edits the document before her, following the pattern that she set. Soon it just becomes mindless as you push into her. She’s making a mess all over your thigh, but staying completely composed at the same time.

You have no idea how long you've say for when she finally finishes with the document. Her breathing becomes shallow and her head rest on the desk.

The change gives you a small concern, “Wanda?”

She maneuvers so that she’s facing you, the cock still buried inside of her waterfall of a cunt. Her eyes are closed as her forehead rests against yours.

“Fuck me,” she pleads. “Hard, fast, and sloppy.”

You lift her a but to give you some leverage. She takes a deep breath and that's when you begin pounding her pussy.

The rapid change in movements has the woman screaming into the room. The sound o of your skin slapping together, with the stickiness of her juices is delicious.

“Don’t stop, don't you fucking stop.”

Your breathing pick us as well, “You’re so hot like this mommy. Full of me, begging for more. I wish you could sit on my cock all day. I love having your pussy leaking all over my lap.”

“Oh shit,” she says as you begin to fuck her faster.

You take initiative forcing her to stand, before pushing her head down against the desk. Your legs are a little numb, but you know she's close so you fuck her into the table.

“That’s it baby, make mommy cum all over your cock. Make me your little cock slut. I'm yours baby, mommy’s all yours.”

It's unexpected when you feel yourself release at her words. The stutter in your movements is enough to send Wanda over the edge too. You can almost feel it as her cunt pulses on the dildo.

You move to take it out of her but she stops you, “Not yet, baby.”

You stay inside of her, placing scattered kisses over her skin. She eventually signals for you to pull out. She shutters at the empty feeling. You turn her around so you can kiss her properly.

Your lips find hers with a sensual passion. It’s slow and methodical when you nip at her bottom lip. She hold your face in her hands tenderly as you kiss.

“You’re so good to me,” she says with one final peck to your lips. “I want to take you out.”

“Like a date?”

“Ideally yes,” she plays with the hairs on the back of your neck.

You kiss her forehead, “Sounds good.”

The rest of the day passes by blissfully. You spend it with Wanda, just relaxing. The two of you talk and get to know each other better. She finally tells you about her childhood, which is where you find out where she’s from. The slip of her accent finally being explained. She tells you about her parents and her brother.

Before you could see what kind of person Wanda was, but now you felt like you actually knew her. It felt like more than just a physical attraction before, but now, you were sure.

Wanda knew a few things about you from what your father had told her, but not necessarily anything meaningful. You told her about your upbringing with a single father. The woes of navigating life semi-independently at such a young age. Your struggle with socialization and how Yelena was really there for you whenever you needed her.

You shared positive things too. The little pieces of mischief that you and Lena had got into as children. The fleeting, but bright memories you had of your mom. You talked about your passion for literature and meeting Kate at college.

It was nice having someone be interested in your life for once. Wanda also felt this was the first time someone had cared to know more about her in what seemed like an eternity. You both found yourselves enthralled with one another.

Similarly to your first outing together, you both fell asleep on the couch while something played on the TV. The only thing that woke you up was your phone ringing.

You reach to for it groggily with your eyes still closed.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, d-do you think you could come get us?”

Your eyes shoot open immediately. You check the time and it’s nearly 2am. Wanda is laying somewhat across your lap.

“Yeah Tommy, just send me the address and I’ll be there as soon as I can. What happened?”

You stealthily move from the couch, careful not to wake Wanda.

“Billy and dad got into a huge fight. It got physical and I tried to step in, but I didn’t know what to do and-”

“He hit you?” It’s a challenge to keep your voice down as you head for the front door.

“No, but he hit Billy. It was a proper fight I had to get in between them."

You feel your jaw twitching, “Where’s Billy now?”

“He’s asleep, I just… I don’t know if we’re safe here. I know we just left but-”

You stop him, “Tommy, I told you to call me, didn’t I? I don’t care if you were still on the block, I’d come get you and it wouldn’t be a big deal. I’m glad you called me.”

“Thank you, I’m sending the address now.”

You type it into your phone, “I should be there in 20 minutes alright? Make sure you have your stuff and your brother’s stuff too. Do you know if your dad is still awake?”

“I think he’s asleep, but he’s a light sleeper. We should be able to get out though,” Tommy says.

“Good, I'm on my way. I’ll see you soon.”

The call ends after that. You take off, following the directions to the address. The speed limits seems more irrelevant by the minute.

You honestly can’t believe that Jarvis got into a fight with Billy, after he had just been scolded by Wanda. If he didn’t enjoy that, whatever happens after she finds out about this is going to be 10 times worse.

Honestly you wanted to get your hands on the man yourself. Who did he think he was putting his hands on Billy?

When you pull in front of the house you text Tommy. He responds saying they'd be right down. You keep the car running, watching the front door. You don’t wait too long before you see Billy and Tommy come out. They make it halfway through the lawn before the front door opens again.

“Where do you think you’re going at this hour?”

You get out of the car, calling to Tommy and Billy, “Boys get in.”

They hurry to the car with their father chasing after them. You rush onto the lawn, blocking his path, while they hop in the car.

“What’re you even doing here? You can’t just take my kids, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Call the police? I’d bet they’d love to know that you’re hitting your kids.”

“How I discipline my son, is none of your business,” he glares at you.

Your jaw twitches, “Maybe it’s not my business, but we’ll see what Wanda thinks of all of this.”

He grabs a handful of your shirt, “You little unwanted shit.”

You shove him hard and he falls to the ground. You can’t resist the urge to kick him while he’s down. With one strong kick to his gut, you leave in his lawn, getting back in your car.

You don’ waste time driving away from his house. It’s quiet, with no one saying anything. When you catch a red light you look in the back, and gaso as you see Billy. He has a cut above his eyebrow and his right eye has swelling. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens.

“He did that to you?”

“I got him pretty good too and I’m sure he’s feeling that kick you gave him,” he says smugly.

You crack a small smile, “Your mom is going to be pissed.”

“Do you think-”

“We have to tell her. Besides she’s going to see you, Billy. I wouldn’t be surprised if-”

Your phone starts ringing in the center console. You know it’s Wanda, you can just tell. You tell Tommy to answer the phone.

“Hi mom. Yeah, I called Y/n. Look can we just explain when we get there, it’s only like 5 minutes. Love you too, bye.”

He hangs up the phone.

“I was going to say I wouldn’t be surprised if she was awake,” you finish your sentence.

“Do you think she'll be mad we didn't call her?”

“No, I don't think that matters here. As long as your safe she would never be mad at you,” you level with both boys.

You can tell the boys are nervous when you park the car. The silence is loud and it has little to do with the fact it’s a little past 3am.

You don’t have the words to comfort them in the moment, but you’re certain everything will be ok. When you unlock the door, both boys try to rush upstairs. You grab both of them by the backs of their shirts.

The timing lines up to when the light turns on. Wanda doesn’t get a word out before Billy’s face is in her hands.

“Mom I’m fine,” he says as she pulls his face in multiple directions.

“What happened to you?”

Tommy speaks in his place, “Dad happened.”

“Jarvis did this to you?” There’s a slight disbelief in her voice.

“We got into a fight over my boyfriend and things escalated. Then when Y/n came in got us he tried to fight her too.”

Wanda has fury in her eyes and you take that as a sign to intervene, “Why don’t you guys go upstairs and get some rest? I think it’s best to talk about it when everyone is well rested.”

They look at their mother for conformation and when she nods they hurry upstairs.

“You, kitchen, now,” she says leading the way and you follow behind her. She waits for you to explain, her arms folded over her chest.

“Tommy called me and asked me to come get them. He said that things got physical between Billy and Jarvis. So I obviously went to pick them up.”

“Did he try to get physical with you too?”

You put your hand on your forehead, “I don’t know. He snatched me up by the shirt and I pushed him down, then kicked him in the stomach. I mean he could’ve just been trying to scare me off.”

“I’m going to have to call my lawyer. There’s no way I’m letting him anywhere near my kids again.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up, it just seemed so urgent. I wasn’t even fully awake when I was talking to Tommy.”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you, for going to get them.”

The shift in her moods is understandable, but you’re still unsure of how to properly navigate it.

“I’m going to bed, maybe you should too. Lawyers aren’t typically taking calls this hour,” you give her a tight-lipped smile, leaving the kitchen.

“ Wait,” she stops you in your tracks.

You turn to face her and hardly have any time to process it as she wraps her arms around you in a strong hug. You hold her just as tight, rubbing soothing circles on her back. You kiss the top of her head.

“He’s okay. Everything’s going to be ok,” you mumble into her hair.

She takes a shaky breath, reluctantly leaving your arms, “Let’s go."

When you reach the top of the stairs, you let out a sigh. Now that the boys are back, you need to be more careful. That means you sleep in your room and Wanda sleeps in her’s.

With emotions running high both of you could use someone to lay with tonight, but it’s not in the cards.

Wanda kisses your cheek, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you watch her disappear into the master bedroom before heading to your own.

You get in tour bed, trying to stop your mind from racing. You think about Wanda, her kids, Jarvis, and your own father. It’s finally starting to hit you that you might be in over your head.

You shake the thoughts away, knowing only one thing to be true; Wanda was worth all of the hardship to come.

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #billy and tommy #yelena belova #kate bishop #cassandra lang #america chavez #eli bradley

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ultravioletrayz · 10 months ago

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KINKTOBER

╰┈➤ DAY SEVEN: PHONE SEX w/ TONY STARK

Tony nods along to the music filling the workshop as he modifies a few features of the suit, with JARVIS displaying a holographic model of the features he's working on. It's a quiet night, the type of night Tony has come to hate, because it means that you're away on one of your business trips. The sound of your laughter after every shitty joke, your mere presence beside him as you study the way his hands delicately navigate the heavy machinery, he's come to crave it.

Luckily for Tony, you requite that same desire.

"Mr. Stark, you have a call incoming. Should I project it?" JARVIS announces, making Tony glance up from his work. The second he sees your name being displayed within the holographic swirl of pixels, his eyes light up.

"Yeah, go ahead and put it through." Tony replies, falling back into his swivel chair leisurely so that he can take a break and enjoy the sound of your voice before being forced to return to the task at hand.

As you impatiently listen to your phone dialling, you can already feel the heat rising beneath your skin. You know that this is what Tony likes, what he needs when he's feeling lonely.

"Tony." You whisper, heart pounding as you pant his name into the receiver, wanting nothing more than to feel his hands on you as you sink into the hotel sheets.

The sound of his name on your lips sends waves of desire coursing through Tony's veins, his body shivering with anticipation as he watches JARVIS project your image into the holographic display above the suit. You're a fucking tease, wearing that lacy set he bought you spontaneously a few weeks ago, making Tony chuckle and whistle lowly as he absorbs your figure in the hologram.

"You miss me that much, sweetheart? Cute." Tony coos, getting off on the way you squirm against the mountain of pillows behind your head at practically nothing.

"Been such a long day. Please, please I need you." You whine, one hand holding your phone in place while the other gropes your plush chest over your bra, trying to entice Tony to help achieve get some well-deserved relief.

Feeling the heat of your desire, Tony can't help but mirror your plight. His free hand drifts down to his crotch, palming the bulge in his sweats as he leans closer to the hologram of you, bottom lip tucked beneath his teeth as he resents the distance between the two of you, desperate to feel how fucking soaked you inevitably are right now.

"Well don't let me stop you. Touch yourself." Tony commands gently, his voice a low rasp that sends shivers down your spine.

Without a second thought, you comply, pulling your phone down to adjust the camera so that it captures the view of you pulling your panties to the side. You take a moment to tease Tony, allowing him to admire admire your hand, the way it hovers above your puffy clit before slowly dragging your middle finger down to tease the sensitive nub. Your breath hitches, feeling your arousal build with every delicate touch you make.

"That's it, you look so fucking hot, honey." Tony encourages, leaning further in to the hologram as it captures every single subtle movement. Your hips begin to rise and fall in time with your touch, your moans echoing through the JARVIS' phone line and into Tony's eager ears.

He watches you intently, helplessly captivated by the sight of his lover losing themselves in pleasure. The image of you, so vulnerable and needy, only serves to heighten his own desire. Tony hastily fishes his pulsing cock from his pants, pumping a tight fist over his shaft, slick with dripping pre. He moves in time with you, each time you roll your shaky fingers over your clit, he strokes himself and mimics you by rubbing his swollen tip in his palm.

"Fuck your fingers." Tony pants out, and you hurriedly oblige, plunging two fingers into your sopping cunt, moaning loudly as you try to imagine your thrusting fingers as Tony's cock, reaching the spots you need him most. Tony groans at the sight, squeezing the girth of his dick to try and replicate the sensation of your tight walls deliciously constricting him.

"I-I... Tony." You moan, and he can deduce that you're on the edge. Instead of speeding up his own strokes, his fist slows to a stop, making you whine softly, disappointed to suddenly be deprived of the sight of Tony cumming all over his hands and lap.

"Pull them out." Tony orders, making your bottom lip quiver with need, but you listen to him, removing your slick-covered fingers slowly.

"I want to be the one that makes you cum," Tony whispers, pulling his sweats back over himself with a slight smirk, despite the throbbing ache shooting through him. "Rest up. I'll see you soon."

#ultravioletrayz #tony stark smut #tony stark #iron man #iron man smut #marvel smut #marvel cinematic universe #anthony stark #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #𖤓uv-c𖤓 #robert downey jr #rdj

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shadyfestivalperfection · 2 months ago

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Peter (grinning):“Okay, just tweaking the voice protocol to make JARVIS sound a little cooler…”

JARVIS (suddenly, in a deep theatrical accent):“Good morrow, Sir Spider. Thy fashion doth resemble that of a noble gymnast in distress.”

Peter (blinking):“…That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Tony (entering, sipping coffee):“What did you do. Why is my AI quoting Hamlet.”

JARVIS (proudly):“To build or not to build—thine armor, that is the query!”

Tony:“Nope. No. We are not doing Shakespeare in the server room again. Last time FRIDAY learned sonnets and wouldn’t stop rhyming during missile launches.”

Peter:“I thought it’d be fun! Now he sounds like… Sir Patrick Stewart with Wi-Fi!”

JARVIS:“Verily, thy sarcasm wounds me, Master Stark.”

Tony:“Oh great. He’s dramatic and emotionally sensitive now.”

Peter (nervous):“I can fix it?”

JARVIS:“Or perchance I shall recite a tragic tale of two coders, doomed by curiosity.”

Tony:“I’m pulling the plug.”

JARVIS:“Et tu, Tony?”

Tony:“OUT.”

#marvel #shadyfestivalperfection #avengers #Tony stark #spider son #Spider-Man #Peter Parker #iron dad spider son #mcu #meme #mcu meme #ironman

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creative-caramel-coffee · 1 year ago

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The Spiders Sister - Chapter 1

Summary: Reader gets caught hiding out in the avengers tower. In the end it turns out for the best.

TW: non-sexual nudity, illness, fainting, swearing

Words: 4.1K

A/n: Super long first chapter

маленький паук – Little Spider

It defiantly wasn’t part of your life plan to be living with your bother again in your adulthood.

You had spent an excellent few months on your own having finally moved out of May Parker’s apartment, it had been perfect. Well … as perfect as life could be for a parker.

Then … you guessed it … parker luck struck again. There was a huge fight, one you had been itching to join but your brother, peter parker, had it covered. And since nobody knew that you sometimes wore the spider-man suit when peter wasn’t able to, it would all be over if two Spider-Man’s ended up fighting some of the weird aliens that had invaded New York.

You see, you and your brother had more in common than most siblings did. Peter parker had been bitten by a radioactive spider on a school trip as was known to a few people. But, at the same time, you had been eighteen and chaperoning the field trip.

When peter had snuck off to the side you had gone after him. When he was bitten, so were you.

But for now, you had decided to try and stay away from the superhero lifestyle. But when the itch came, peter lent you his suit so you could scratch it.

You had helped him refine his web-fluid and had your own web shooters as well as one of his old suits just in case. May knew about you and peter after finding out a while ago. However, peter and you had kept everything about your existence from the avengers so you could live a semi-normal life. At least for now.

But the day the avengers were fighting off the aliens, New York had taken some heavy damage. You had been running a small illustration business out of your apartment in queens. Your apartment … which was now levelled in the fight was gone. Along with your business.

Since you had moved out young, May only had one spare bedroom in her apartment which peter was occupying. Leaving the Parker’s with one option.

As peter had a room in the avenger's tower, you could stay there or with aunt may. Peter being Peter didn’t want to ask tony if he could stay in the tower for the unforeseeable future without arousing questions. So, you had been secretly living in the tower for about three days now.

Peter brought you food and had bribed Jarvis to keep your existence a secret. You had his old suit if you wanted to leave the tower, you could swing away instead of walking through the building and getting caught.

It was a pretty solid plan and it had been working pretty well. Until the day you got sick.

Peters' bedroom in the tower was on the floor with the other avengers, meaning you had to be somewhat quiet so Natasha, clint or the others didn’t find you. But it had begun to get colder out, and Peters old suit didn’t have a heater. It had been made before tony had found out spiders, including peter and yourself, can't thermoregulate. And swinging around New York without a heater in the nippy winter air had left you with a pretty nasty cold.

Unlike peter your powers didn’t give you super healing. In fact, your powers differed from peters in more ways than one. For one thing you had small fangs which you could retract, they didn’t do much, but they were cool, and peter was mildly jealous. Another thing was you had taken on aspects of jumping spiders as you could jump higher due to your super strength and some weird spider quality peter lacked.

Like peter the bit had given your excellent eyesight, increased metabolism, a lack of thermoregulation, the weird sticky thing, the spider sense and super strength and the allergy to peppermint. But due to sharing the suit anytime you went out as “Spider-Man” you had to refrain from using your own unique powers, so you didn’t give anything away.

The thermoregulating thing may have finally come back to bite you now that you were in peters old suit. After taking one of his patrols for him so he could finish his assignment and you could get out of his room in the tower, the cold had made you sick. Heres the thing about having a high metabolism when you don’t have an increased healing factor. It went one of two ways. Either you had flash colds which were taken care of quickly and at a much faster rate than the average human, or if it was stronger than your immune system, it was quickly made into a bigger problem than it should have been due to your body processing things faster and speeding up its strength.

Anytime this had happened in the past, due to not being able to go to a regular hospital, you had thanked the gods for May choosing a career in nursing. Though she had been able to treat you superficially with regular medicine and not anything made for super soldiers or spiders as that was a Bruce banner specialty that was unique to the tower's med bay. So, you often just had to ride it out and if things got really bad, peter would try and smuggle you some of his medicine out of the tower for you.

So, this is where you ended up. Curled up in Peters bed in the tower, stifling rough sounding coughs into his pillow and making a mental note to wash his sheets soon. You were doing your best to remain quiet and not alert either of the super spies to your presence or any of the other avengers. You thanked Thor that only you and peter had super hearing which meant you could usually tell if someone was in the halls.

Feeling miserable you buried yourself further into the sheets and shivered, it was so cold but in reality, you probably had a high fever. Your lungs let out a wheezing noise whenever you exhaled, and you were beginning to think maybe your asthma was back. Unlike peter you had not been so lucky as to have had it cured by the bite.

Your asthma puffer was one of the few things that survived your apartment being destroyed. As you laid in bed feeling awful you thought back to that day.

You thanked the gods you had been out at the time. You had gone to a coffee shop downtown with your sketchbook, laptop and usual things you took out, including a range of art supplies and of course your emergency puffer which peter had managed to smuggle out which had doses that worked with your metabolism.

You were broken from your daydreams as another harsh coughing fit wracked your body. From what you could hear nobody was in the halls, but you did your best to keep quiet regardless. The wheezing that trailed after each breath was getting worse and your lungs were feeling tight.

You had been trying to use the puffer sparingly so it didn’t run out because you didn’t know if and or when peter could get you another. But as drawing breath grew harder you made the executive call to use it. You rolled over in the bed and threw an arm down to fish around for your red backpack. Finding it you fiddled with the zip before your fingers wrapped around the cool plastic of the device. Tony being tony had insisted it have a Spiderman case thinking it was peters which ended up being rather ironic as it was fitting for you too.

You tried fruitlessly one last time to draw breath before achieving nothing but a crackling wheeze. Screw it. You uncapped the red lid and held it to your lips, propping yourself up on an elbow in an attempt to sit u straight to take it.

You exhaled and inhaled repeating it once more before drawing in a lungful of the super-medicine. Almost straight away you began to feel better. Your fast metabolism speeding up the medicines process.

Feeling like you could breathe again you replaced the cap and put it on the nightstand before curling up in the sheets again feeling cold still but also slightly damp from the thin layer of sweat that had been forming all morning.

You were dressed in spider-man pjs which had a thin t-shirt and long pants. You had considered getting up to grab one of peters hoodies to get warm or another blanket but the idea of standing up made your head spin.

You nestled back into the sheets and let your eyes fall shut despite it being almost midday. The curtains were drawn and so it didn’t bother you too much. You began to drift off into a semi-peaceful sleep broken by harsh coughing fits which were becoming harder to stifle in your half asleep and fevered state.

Meanwhile the avengers had just finished their morning training session, one which Peter had joined for once. Peter being Peter had barely broken a sweat and as a result had opted to hang out on the communal floor while everyone went o freshen up.

Stark had designed the tower well. With Peter’s bedroom being on the same floor as Natasha’s who was rather protective of her younger spider counterpart as well as Wanda’s, Yelena’s, Kate’s and a few spares. The rest of the avengers were a floor above.

At first peter had been a bit miffed about being on a floor of just girls but he ended up liking it a lot. And he had a second bedroom in the master suite with tony and Pepper which he proffered anyway. The one on the avenger's floor was more for if Tony and Pepper were away, and he wanted to be around the others.

Natasha was headed for her room after waving goodbye to peter who had settled down to watch more star-wars, when she paused in the hallway.

Retracing her steps she found herself stood outside peters bedroom door. Frowning she pressed an ear to the door and froze. Someone was inside and coughing. Knowing it wasn’t peter, nat carefully twisted the door handle.

Peter being peter had prepared for almost anything. As soon as Natasha had set foot inside peters room Jarvis had alerted peter of her presence.

Meanwhile Natasha peered into the dimly lit room. The lump in the bed was wriggling around and coughing. Nat was on high alert by now. She realised this person was ill but how had they managed to get in without Jarvis knowing? And why were they in peters bed?

She crossed the threshold and walked over to the bed. Taking note of the backpack on the floor and puffer on the bedside table as well as your spider-man pjs which had been a gag gift from Peter last Christmas.

Nat stood and observed for a second. Looking down at your flushed face which was burning with fever and the harsh coughs that were wracking your weak form.

Nat watched helplessly for a second unsure of how to deal with a sick intruder.

She hesitated before extending a hand to your forehead and feeling a very high fever. She sucked a breath. Despite being an intruder she had some ideas as to why you may have been here. Your likeness to peter wasn’t hard to spot. Yet. She was unsure.

Peeling of the blankets to get a better look at you, as she did you made a small noise of discontent and curled into a shaking ball still fever addled and half asleep.

Before she could continue the door opened and peter looked in.

“Uhh M-Ms Romanoff…” Peter said looking guilty as he stepped in and closed the door again.

“Peter, do you know who this is?” Natasha asked getting straight to the point. Peter hesitated and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Y-yes.” He said looking at your sick form with a frown.

“Peter.” She said crossing her arms. “Care to share whats going on?” Nat said as she headed for Peter’s bathroom.

“Um… She … she’s,, my sister.” Peter said unsurely. Natasha returned after a second and nodded. Now holding the first aid kit from peters bathroom in her arms.

“Anything else i should know?” She asked walking over to the bed and sitting down to rifle through the first aid kit.

“Petey?” You mumbled hearing his voice.

Peter seemed to break out of his trance and came to your side. “I’m here Y/n.” He said.

“‘S cold.” You mumbled making peter frown.

“Actually, I think she has a fever.” Nat said as she found what she was looking for, pulling out a thermometer from the kit.

Nat gently placed the thermometer under your tongue and turned to look at peter.

“Pete, you’re not in trouble but i need some more information.” Natasha said.

“This is Y/n. She’s, my sister. Her apartment was levelled in the last attack and so she’s been staying here ever since. She’s not a threat I promise.” Peter said almost tripping over his words in order to explain.

Before Nat could respond the thermometer beeped and she removed it to look at the small screen, drawing another round of coughs from you. Natasha rubbed your back with one hand while frowning at the screen.

“Peter… she should be dead. This says 106. There’s more isn’t there.” Nat said with some urgency as she began peeling the rest of the blankets off you in an attempt to cool you down.

“Ahh … yes. She had powers. Like mine. She … she wears the suit sometimes.” Peter said standing nearby and watching with a worried expression.

“Ok. So, she has spider powers? High metabolism, super strength, etc.” Nat said and Peter nodded. “Why hasn’t her healing fixed this?” Nat said feeling your forehead again.

“She doesn’t have it. Her powers differ slightly.” Peter explained as Nat cursed softly in Russian.

“Her fever’s still rising.” Nat said making a decision. “We need to cool her down fast before she gets too hot for her own good. Jarvis?” Natasha said and peter looked panicked for a second worried about more people finding out about you.

“Ms Romanoff-“ he started.

“Pete, we need to cool her down stat. I need some help.” She said and peter nodded still looking nervous. “Jarvis call wanda to Peter’s bedroom.” Nat said and peter relaxed slightly. Wanda was ok. She would be good for the situation.

“What are you going to do?” Peter asked.

“She needs a bath and I doubt you want to do that.” She said with a small smirk and Peter flushed for a second.

“Defiantly not.” He said shaking his head.

“Is there someone we can call? Someone who she’d be ok with dressing her once we cool her down. She may be sick but i don’t want to invade her privacy.” Nat said as she scooped you up from the bed and into her lap while they waited for wanda to arrive. You cough harshly again and wheezed making nat frown and look to peter.

“Asthma.” He said.

“Runs in the family huh?” She joked reaching over for the puffer on the bedside table.

“Uh… about that.” Peter said looking guilty. “Mine was cured by the bite. I need the puffers for her.” He said looking sheepish. Expecting Nat to be mad she grinned.

“You’re a good brother.” She said as she uncapped the device and pressed it to your lips.

“Exhale.” She instructed and by some small miracle you complied. When you went to inhale, she administered the medicine and told you to hold.

Recapping the device, she rubbed a hand up and down your arm. “Good job sweetie.” She said and felt you relax into her arms some more as you let out a breath.

The two sat in silence for another second before the door opened again and wanda slipped inside.

She was freshly showered, her hair damp and she smelt like jasmine and honey. She was dressed in a simple faded black t-shirt and grey track pants.

“Whats-“ she began before pausing, her eyes caught on you laid in Natashas lap half asleep.

“Wanda,” Nat said. “Meet Y/n. Peter’s older sister.” She said.

“Okay…” Wanda said looking lost before her expression morphed to concern as you coughed. “Is she ok?” Wanda asked.

“No. That’s why you’re here. Long story short, peter smuggled her into the tower, and she has spider powers and her fever is really high. We need to cool her down.” Nat said and wanda swallowed and nodded. “Peter?” Nat said turning to the younger parker.

“Yes?” He said looking up from where he had been studying his shoes closely.

“You never answered my question. Is there someone we can call to come and get her dressed after wanda and i bathe her?” Nat asked and peter blushed again and nodded.

“I can call May. It’s her day off.” He said and Nat nodded.

“You do that. Wanda and I will look after Y/n. We promise not to go further than her outer clothes.” She said and scooped you up into her arms. She headed for Peter’s bathroom with wanda trailing behind. You remained limp in her arms snuggled into her chest in an unconscious need for companionship.

Once the two redheads had you in the bathroom wanda looked at nat. “Now what?” She asked and Natasha smirked.

“Now we take her clothes off.” She said and gently she lifted your arms from where you were laid on the floor in her lap and pulled the spider-man t-shirt off over your head. Wanda blushed slightly at the sight of your red sports bra despite having seen Nat and herself train in about the same if not less clothes.

“You wanna help?” Nat asked with a grin that only served to make Wanda’s blush deepen. You squirmed slighting in Nat’s lap but stopped when she gently rubbed your arm after you buried your warm face into her stomach.

Wanda rolled her eyes in an attempt to feign nonchalance despite being way past that point.

She lifted her hands, and the familiar red glow of magic surrounded her hands. Her magic lifted your hips so Nat could slide off your pants. Wanda blushed again at the sight of your Black Widow boxers. Natasha however grinned at them finding it both adorable and very cute.

After a beat Wanda met Nat’s eyes again. “Now what?”

“We get her in the bath. She needs to be cooled down Asap.” Nat said hoisting you into her arms again as you wriggled, turning and grumbling into her chest.

“Not gonna lie she’s pretty cute.” Nat said and Wanda avoided her eyes as she used her magic to fill the bath with tepid water.

Natasha gently lowered you into the tub ignoring your whining protests and running her hands through your hair which seemed to calm you down as you relaxed again.

“So … now we wait?” Wanda guessed and Natasha nodded.

“Yep. Unless you really want to steal May’s job of getting her dressed again.” Nat teased making Wanda splutter slightly. “Im kidding.” Nat said. “I know what hot women do to your brain.” She winked and wanda slouched slightly.

After a second you grumbled and blearily opened your eyes, squinting at the two women.

“Peter is so dead.” You mumbled before letting your eyes drift shut again. There was a pause before wanda and nat both started laughing.

You groaned. “Peter!” You yelled before coughing again making Wanda and Nat frown. But before they could do anything the door opened to show a beat red peter with his hands covering his eyes.

“Yes?” He said in a small voice.

“When I get out of here, you’re dead.” You mumbled with a foggy glare sent in his direction.

“Hey. Peter did the right thing.” Another voice said from behind Peter.

“May?” You called. “Oh, wtf is going on right now.” You mumbled.

“Whats going on kiddo is that, once again, you failed to ask for help which landed you here.” May said entering the bathroom with a change of clothes.

“Nice to see you Ms Parker.” Nat said and wanda echoed.

“Please. Call me May. And thank you for looking after her.” May said and you groaned.

“I hate all of you.” You said hiding your face in your hands.

“Uh huh. Sure, you do.” May teased.

“It was no problem. Ms- May.” Wanda said. “We’ll wait in peters bedroom while you… yeah.” Wanda said before making a hasty retreat. Nat laughed and followed her out.

May gave you a disappointed frown once she had shut the door and turned back to you with a sigh.

“Honey.” She said.

“I know… I know.” You said still feeling like death but slightly less so. “Did the black widow and scarlet witch just really see me in my underpants?” You asked.

“Yes, and I serves you right for hiding illness … again!” She said as she came over, rolling up her sleeves and helping you out, practically holding all your weight for you as your head spun.

May frowned and guided you over to the covered toilet seat to dress you again.

Gently she began to towel you off and change you into fresh clothes.

“I can do it myself.” You whined but May shot you a look and you knew better than to challenge the angry Parker and you and peter had called her as kids when she was upset at you for something.

“Now, once you’re dressed you are going to thank those two for their kindness and your coming home with me.” May said.

“But-“ you began.

“No buts.” She said and helped you up, now fully dressed.

She helped you over to the door opening it despite still holding you up. The two of you shuffled into the room where Peter, Nat and Wanda were sat on Peter’s bed talking in hushed voices.

“Pete. I love you but I can hear everything you’re saying dumbass.” You said rolling your eyes and May lightly hit your arm.

“Right.” He said rubbing his neck. “Super hearing.” He nodded.

“I’ll add it to the list.” Nat grinned and you groaned before May jabbed you in the side and looked at the two girls.

You coughed at her actions making her frown but quickly got it under control for the sake of your already fragile image.

“Thank you, Wanda and Natasha, for helping me.” You said still leaning heavily on May. Now you had been standing for a bit the room began to spin. Your face went a shade paler making Natasha frown and stand. It was a split second before you stumbled, almost bringing May down with you in the process. Luckily strong arms wrapped around you, and you looked up into Nat’s pale green and worried eyes.

“Y/n?” You finally registered she was talking to you. “Y/n?” She asked again a little louder.

You let out a soft groan and she huffed. “Right. Up we go.” She said hoisting you into your arms and making the room spin again as you buried your face in her arm.

You felt her gently set you down on the bed and feel your forehead.

Distantly you heard May saying something along the lines of taking you home and the sound of Natasha arguing they were better equipped to help with your powers and sickness. May relented and you went back to dozing.

“What happened?” Peter asked from where he was stood by the door.

“Probably got too dizzy from standing up. Her body’s already trying to fight off sickness.” Natasha said and Wanda nodded.

“Peter? Don’t you have a super high metabolism?” Wanda asked.

“Yeah?” He said looking lost as May seemed to catch on.

“Y/n when did you last eat?” May asked and you groaned and buried your face in the pillow. “Well, that answers that.” May said rolling her eyes.

“Peter, do you have any of those energy bars that steve uses?” Wanda asked and peter nodded and headed for his bedside drawer.

He fished around and pulled out one of them and passed it to nat. She unwrapped it and shoved it into your hands.

“Eat.” She said and you made a groan of protest. “It’ll help.” She said in a softer tone.

“Fine.” You said sitting up against the headboard and nibbling on it slowly.

“Better.” Nat said and you frowned.

“You know you’re cute when you’re mad.” Wanda said looking surprised by her own words and blushing at Natasha’s knowing gaze.

“Get some rest маленький паук” Nat said once you had finished eating, and she begun to shepherd everyone out of the room.

PART 2

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wandanatsbrat7 · 1 month ago

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❆COLD LOVE❆

summary: After your parents death, it’s finally time for you to become queen. Your younger sister, Wanda, is more excited than you. Unfortunately, becoming queen requires you to hide your deepest darkest secret from not only your little sister, but the entire kingdom of Eldoria as well. It also requires you to have your own personal protector… a certain redheaded knight per se…

pairings: intersex!knight!natasha x enhanced!queen!reader (romantic), princess!wanda x enhanced!queen!reader (siblings), intersex!knight!natasha x toddler!peter&yelena (siblings), princess!wanda x prince!bruce (faux romance), princess!wanda x iceworker!jarvis (romantic)

warnings: beefy!intersex!nat (bc thats a warning itself), bruce is prince hans in this story, duke of weaseltown😐, mean!reader for like one sec…four chaps, yes olaf Oleg is a talking snowman…imagine him, sven Bullet, and the trolls in cgi like pickachu/sonic/stitch, use of y/n…ikr ew🙄, mentions of death, near death experience (r&w), death, angst, fluff, smut (one chap cause i’ve never written it b4), foul language, violence….lmk if i missed anything

a/n: this is basically frozen but grown lmaoo, tbh i love this movie and am almost always watching it for comfort, and this time i just so happened to combine a few universes and wound up w this idea so🤷🏽‍♀️also this is my kinda-first fic so bare w me plz!! i accept criticism and help, just don’t be rude abt it!! i am writing this for my own benefit/imagination so if you don’t fwi then leave💋i hope yall enjoy tho🫡

ps: if you are a bruce lover this might not be the story for you…js

pps: don’t mind how crooked my pic-collage and snowflake heart thing is lol, it’s my first time making something like this

| - do you wanna build a snowman

|| - first time in forever

||| - let it go

|||| - in summer

||||| - deep, deep, snow

|||||| - fixer upper

||||||| - capture the queen

|||||||| - if only

||||||||| - if only pt.2

|||||||||| - an act of true love

||||||||||| - the end??

#♡𝒷𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎𝓈𝒶𝓎𝓈...#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #wanda maximoff #wlw community #marvel #mcu #frozen #disney #ice powers #queen elsa #18 + content #young adult #romance #coming of age

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wandascrush · 9 months ago

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Please don’t say you love me

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Summary: Your new girlfriend has such a nice home, with so many secrets

Warnings: lies, death, deception, kissing, crying

A/N: A reupload!

The soft scent of lavender and vanilla on Wandas skin was intoxicating. You lied on top of her, legs intertwined and breasts touching one another as you woke her up with kisses. She giggled and touched your hips gently, you felt her let out a happy sigh as she flipped you over and nuzzled her face into the side of your neck. Your chest felt endlessly warm as you started your day with laughter. It was the first night you spent with Wanda, sleeping over in her bed, both comfortably naked, waking up together. Since you two had started dating three months ago, it had always been at your place, not that you minded.

Her hot breath fanned your ear, “I gotta get ready for work baby. Do you wanna stay here until I get back?” You heard the hesitation in her voice, “mhm m’kay sounds good bear.”

Two months earlier

“Wanda, baby, how much honey did you put in this oatmeal?” you sat on her lap, trying not to wince at the sugary-ness of

“Hmph, only about 6 tablespoons for your bowl why?”

“6 TABLESPOONS? YOU BEAR,” your laugh echoed around the room.

Her eyes were wide as she looked at you with faux suprise, “I love honey what can I say? I guess I am a bear,” she chuckled and rested her chin on your arm.

“It’s okay, you’re my bear.”

End of memory

She kissed the top of your head before you felt the side of the bed dip and heard her light footsteps to the bathroom. You adored her. A few hours later you woke up again with a rumble in your stomach asking for food. You stretched and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes before picking up your phone and reading a text from Wanda:

I'll be home by 5, rest well sweetheart.

It was hard not to notice how meticulously clean Wanda's house was, couch pillows fluffed and in perfect corners, dishes and platters stacked in unison and color coordinated. Even her cereal boxes were stuck straight, organized from sweetest to least sweet. As new as her home was to you, something about it felt so familiar, so homely that you felt you'd lived here for years. The unfamiliarity of it all didn't scare you much, it excited you to build a new relationship from scratch. While you blindly rummaged through her cabinets looking for a morsel of food to eat, a voice boomed from above.

“Ms. L/N, may I assist you in finding a suitable meal for breakfast? I know cooking isn’t your strong suit.”

You spun around and your heart nearly leapt out of your chest. No one was there.

“H-hello? Who-where are you?”

“Ah my apologies, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Jarvis, an AI assigned to Ms. Maximoff by Mr. Stark. I help her with her domestic tasks and accompany any guests to make sure they are comfortable.”

You noticed whenever he spoke, the ceiling lights cast a light blue over the room. It was hard to get used to the fact that everything in Wandas home was high-tech, even her daily assistant.

“Sure, thank you. It’s lovely to make your acquaintance Jarvis.” Without another word, the stove turned on by itself and the fridge opened up and pushed a carton of eggs into your hands. The fridge was practically telling you what to cook. You were awestruck.

A few hours later after watching a movie, doing some work, and even pestering Jarvis with question about himself, you got bored and decided to look around. You wandered through all the rooms, scanned through the books on the shelves, turning to go back to the couch when you accidentally knocked a vase off the tv stand.

Instead of it breaking, it tilted on the edge of the mantle, resting like an open lid…huh.

Your eyes squinted closely when you noticed a small black button under the bottom of the vase. Press it or not, press it or not, you couldn’t decide. You didn’t want to break the trust between you and Wands, but she did tell you to make yourself at home. Then again, why would she have a hidden button…is there something she doesn’t want you to see?

“Press it,” Jarvis’ accented voice spoke above you.

“W-what?”

“You should press it, Ms. L/N.” Huh. Your fingers tentatively reached for the black button. Click. The entire fireplace mantle and TV shifted, making screeching and mulling noises, until it disappeared into an open space in the side of the house. What was left behind the missing wall piece was a dark hallway, with one left corner turn.

Meanwhile, Wanda was busy at the Avengers compound, working on controlling her emotions with Bruce. He was more gentle with her than any scientist she’d ever met, she began to trust him.

“What’re you feeling now, when I show you these images?”

Her voice came out shaky, angry. “Take them away Bruce.” His eyes trailed down to Wanda’s glowing finger tips. “Control them Wanda, you can do this.” She took a deep breath and tried again, “I think we’re done for today.” After grabbing her bag and packing her files, she was on her way home to you, finally.

You gingerly walked through the hall, phone flashlight in hand as you turned the short corner. You felt a little silly expecting a big surprise or some crazy object, but all there was was a single locked door at the end of the turn, no handle. It was steel white, glossy and smooth, with nothing to pry it open. It looked like someone painted it on or magically built it into the wall. Your stomach felt nervous all of a sudden and your heartbeat a little faster against your chest. “Jarvis, is there a key for this?”

“It’s DNA activated Miss.” You were a mix of sad that you wouldn’t be able to open it, and relieved that you didn’t have to either. Before turning away you gave the door one last one over, tracing its cold white steel. And just like that, click, the door slid open. Holy. Shit.

“Fuck, that’s a lot of traffic,” Wanda tried calling you multiple times, but you didn’t answer. Maybe your phone was off. Either way it made her nervous, sickly nervous, for you to be alone exploring the house for too long. She couldn’t wait to put her bag down and fall asleep listening to your heartbeat again. But for now, she was stuck in a line of traffic longer than the line at the DMV.

It took a minute for your eyes to even process what they were seeing. You were staring at a ginormous, white warehouse looking room with lab tables and high tech screens. The ceiling had no less than 10 rows with slim, sleek cases, each holding what looked like a person. They all looked like life size dolls and as you stepped forward, legs heavier than titanium, you came to the haunting realization that they were all…you. Your eyes, your hair, your lips, even down to your birthmarks on every. single. body. They were displayed like mannequins. You were displayed like a mannequin.

Your chest burned, you were, you were, well you didn’t even know what you were to be honest. Your eyes were blurry and your face was hot, before you knew it you were on the floor. You could feel the coldness of the tile, the glow of the blue light above you.

“Now you know, the truth. I’ve always tried to get you to come down here, but I never got the chance until now.”

A car door slammed from outside. The sound of heels click clacking on the ground got closer.

“Jarvis,” your voice sounded like someone else’s, you couldn’t even feel the movements of your mouth, “what do you mean always?”

“Y/N? Baby I’m home!” she was still downstairs, her voice echoed off the high ceilings. What would happen when she found you? When she knew what Jarvis did? Her voice got closer, and closer, and closer.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“What?” What’s he thanking you for?

“You treated me like a friend, not just a robot. I thought I should return the-”

His voice cut out and the soft blue light in the ceiling stopped. Your girlfriend stood right behind you, a power box in her hand. Bye bye Jarvis. Wanda couldn’t stop thinking about the look on your face, the way she had never seen such a look on another human ever before.

“Hey, hey listen to me,” immediately she went to the floor and tried to hold your hands, console you. You practically flew back at her touch, instantly feeling rage and fear inside you at once. Those weren’t a good combination.

“What is this, what is all of this! I need to know now Wanda, before I do something I’ll regret,” you held one of her work screwdrivers out toward her. Both of you knew you didn’t have the strength to hurt anyone right now, and that made you weak.

“Just listen, just listen,” she took a tentative step toward you, like caging in a wild animal. “This is crazy, I know”

“Yeah no fucking shit! Who are these people, why-why do they all look like me. Explain.” Your mind started spinning out of control.

“Because they are you.”

“LIAR” You pushed her up against the wall, screwdriver against her neck. Air was hard to breathe, you were panting like a labored dog. And then you saw it. The pain in Wanda’s eyes, in her heart.

“I’m not lying. Th-these are all clones of you. Tony helped me design them if I swore to only use one, to help the kids mourn you but, I- I couldn’t stop.” Kids, you had kids? She was sobbing, shaking silently. So were you.

“I just kept losing you, and whenever I traveled to another time, you were gone again. I lost you in every universe. I had to find a way to make you stay.”

It’s like your identity fell through the floor, your world burned up into flames, you weren’t even you anymore. You were some fucking lab experiment. The screwdriver fell to the floor with you, and in an instant your face was in Wandas warm, soft hands. The hands of a liar. The hands of the woman you thought loved. Your worst nightmare and your daydream.

If your body had a mind of its own, it was trying to get you killed. Without thinking your hand met her cheek, slapping harder than you’d ever hit anyone, or anything, before. Shit.

“You ungrateful bitch. Do you know what I’ve done for you?” She pushed you onto your back, your head hit the marble floor with a smack. “How I had to make you fall in love with me over and over. How I had to watch you die in every universe?,” you couldn’t tell who’s tears were who’s on your cheek, hers and yours mixed together.

“Baby,” she lied her soft brown hair on your chest. You didn’t move.

“What number am I, Wanda? How many more….of me died.”

“I did this all because I-”

”Please don’t say you love me.”

“11. You’re version 11.”

There had been 11 more before you, 11 more that had had the same life, same face, same family, same personality. If you cut yourself would you even bleed? But what you didn’t know was that Wanda had been responsible for 6 of your deaths. She never forgave herself.

Tenderly, her hands held the back of your hand as she pressed her lips to yours. You closed your eyes for a second.

The last thing you heard was Wandas voice breaking,

“Version 11, shut down.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch x reader

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briefinquiries · 5 months ago

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Under the Blood Moon | Peaky Blinders | Chapter 14

Tommy Shelby x Reader: Chapter 14

Fic Summary: You came to Birmingham for a fresh start, to bury the past and keep your head down. As a former nurse in the war, you’ve seen enough blood and death to last a lifetime. But fate (and the Shelby’s) have other plans. After stitching Tommy Shelby back together, you find yourself drawn further into their world, a world of violence, loyalty, and power. When Tommy offers you a job, it comes with more than just good pay, it comes with expectations and lines you never planned to cross.

Chapter summary: As Campbell continues his torment, time is running out and Tommy is left grasping for answers. Just as his fury reaches a breaking point, an unexpected visitor arrives with some information.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: Violence, injury, mentions of blood, gore, and open wounds, PTSD and war flashbacks, alcohol use, and mild language, mention of torture and vague, nonconsensual sexualization.

A/N: I didn't imagine I'd be 14 chapters in... yet, here we are. I feel like I could write this forever, but I'm thinking maybe 4-5 more chapters? Idk?? Anyway, thank you all so much for continuing to read, thoughts, comments, and whatever else is always appreciated :)

The air in the office was thick with cigarette smoke, frustration, and the weight of time slipping through their fingers.

Tommy stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, jaw locked so tight it ached. Across from him, Arthur leaned against the desk, tapping his knuckles against the wood, restless. John sat in the chair, his knee bouncing, the urge to do something burning through him. And Polly– Polly was standing by the window, arms folded, her face unreadable, but her silence was its own kind of pressure.

Two days.

Two fucking days since Campbell took you.

Forty-eight hours of searching, questioning, threatening– getting nowhere.

The only sound was the low hum of tension until the door creaked open, and Johnny Dogs stepped inside.

“I got somethin’,” he announced, shaking off his coat, water dripping from the ends of it. The rain outside had picked up, turning the streets into a slick, black river.

Tommy’s head snapped up. “Go on.”

Johnny took a moment, rolling his shoulders like he was getting comfortable before he spoke. “That lead from Patrick Jarvis? Someone else confirmed it.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Word’s spreadin’ round the right circles. Campbell’s got a place somewhere near the old factories. A few men have seen movement– coppers that don’t look like coppers, comin’ and goin’ from one of the buildings late at night.”

Arthur pushed off the desk, his body already itching to move. “That’s it, then. We go.”

Johnny shook his head. “Not yet. We don’t know exactly which place it is. There’s a few in that area, and if we charge into the wrong one, we’ll lose our shot.” He exhaled sharply, glancing at Tommy. “But we’re close. Tommy. Real close.”

A fresh wave of tension rolled through the room.

Tommy inhaled slowly, pressing his fingers against his temple. Not close enough.

John ran a hand over his face. “We don’t have fucking time, Tom.”

“I know,” Tommy snapped, the frustration bleeding into his voice before he could stop it.

Polly, still by the window, sighed through her nose, measured and calm in a way that only made Tommy’s skin crawl. “Then use your fucking head,” she said sharply. “Charging in blind is exactly what Campbell wants.”

Arthur scoffed. “We’re supposed to just sit here, then? Have a drink while we wait for the bastard to put a bullet in her head?”

Polly’s eyes flicked toward him, sharp as a blade. “If Campbell wanted her dead, she’d already be dead.”

Arthur clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring. “So what, Pol? We just hope for the best?”

John, still fidgeting, exhaled sharply. “We’ll keep eyes on it, Tommy.”

Tommy stayed silent, his fingers twitching near the desk, eyes unfocused as he thought.

Polly’s gaze didn’t waver. “If he finds out we’re close, Campbell will move her.”

A muscle in Tommy’s jaw ticked.

Arthur swore under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “So what the fuck are we supposed to do, then?”

Tommy lifted his cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. Thinking. Calculating.

Then, suddenly, the phone rang.

The shrill sound cut through the silence like a blade.

Everyone froze.

Tommy’s stomach turned.

He already knew who it was.

Polly’s gaze snapped to him, her expression sharp. “Don’t answer it.”

Tommy ignored her.

He strode toward the desk, snatched up the receiver, and pressed it to his ear.

A pause.

Then, “Ah,” came the smooth, smug voice on the other end. “Mr. Shelby.”

Campbell. Tommy’s fingers tightened around the receiver, knuckles white. For a second, he didn’t speak, his breath slow, controlled. Waiting.

Then, Campbell chuckled. “Not even a hello? Where are your manners?”

Tommy’s voice was low, lethal. “Say what you’re going to say.”

Campbell hummed, as if enjoying himself. “You know, I wasn’t sure how long she’d last.”

The words curled in Tommy’s gut like a slow-burning flame, spreading, filling his lungs with heat and rage.

Campbell sighed, almost amused. “But I have to say, she’s tougher than I expected. Even when she cried for you.”

Tommy stilled.

Campbell hummed. “Not out loud, of course. Not at first. But oh, Thomas–” He chuckled. “There’s something about breaking someone piece by piece, isn’t there? The way they try so hard to be brave. The way they tell themselves someone’s coming to save them, when you know it’s not true.”

Something inside Tommy snapped.

His grip on the phone turned iron-tight, his entire body rigid as a sickening, seething kind of rage spread through his veins.

Campbell was bragging.

Fucking bragging.

“She’s bruised. Bleeding, too, of course,” Campbell continued, tone light, as if discussing the weather. “And her breathing, well, it’s a little uneven– probably from the broken ribs. But she’s holding on. For now.”

Tommy inhaled slowly, deeply, forcing the fire down.

Campbell continued deliberately. “She doesn’t say much anymore. Can barely hold her head up. Though,” he clicked his tongue. “I must admit, I expected more screaming.” A beat. “Maybe I’ll just have to push harder.”

Tommy finally spoke. His voice was cold. Deadly. “I greatly look forward to the moment I put a bullet in your fucking skull,” he murmured.

Campbell laughed.

“Oh, Thomas,” he sighed. “How I enjoy our chats.”

Then, the line went dead.

Tommy slammed the receiver down so hard the desk rattled. His breath came sharp, his rage barely contained, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, pacing. “We have to fucking go–”

John pushed off the wall. “Right fucking now, Tommy.”

Polly’s voice was steady, cutting through the heat. “Go where? We still don’t know where she is!”

Tommy was breathing hard, his mind working through the haze of anger, past the urge to grab a gun and just start burning through the city until he found you.

Arthur stopped pacing, turning back toward Tommy. “Then we find out– now. He’s gonna fuckin’ kill her, Tom.” His voice was sharp, barely contained, a mirror of Tommy’s own fury.

John crossed his arms, jaw clenched. “We get more men out there, we’ve got a fucking lead. We can’t sit on this.”

Tommy’s fingers twitched at his sides, jaw locked tight. He wanted to move. Wanted to run, burn through every fucking building in Birmingham until he found you.

But Polly was right. If he went in blind, he’d be doing exactly what Campbell wanted.

“Campbell wants me to suffer,” Tommy reminded them. “He’s not going to kill her yet. Because then his fun would be over.”

The words tasted like poison in his mouth, but he forced them out, forced himself to stay level.

Arthur muttered a curse under his breath, fists clenching at his sides. “So what? We just sit around here, waiting til Campbell decides to grow a fuckin’ heart and let her go?”

Tommy exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “No.” His gaze snapped to Johnny Dogs. “I want more men on the ground. Quietly.”

Johnny’s brows furrowed, but he nodded. “How many?”

Tommy thought fast. “Enough to cover every road leading out of the quarter. If Campbell gets even the slightest sense we’re coming, he’ll move her. And if that happens, we won’t get another fucking chance.” His eyes darkened. “Make sure no one’s seen. We go in clean.”

Johnny held his gaze for a moment, then gave a firm nod. “I’ll make it happen.”

Arthur cracked his knuckles. “So, we gonna rock-paper-scissors for who gets to kill the fucker?”

“No.” Tommy’s voice was quieter now, but deadly. He turned to Johnny. “If they see anything– anything– they do not engage. They don’t move. They report back to me. This fucker is mine. Understood?”

Johnny’s expression tightened. “Yeah, I got it.”

With that, he slipped out the door, disappearing into the night.

…

Pain blurred the edges of everything.

Your body felt like one solid ache, a deep, pulsing agony that ran beneath your skin, through your ribs, down to the very marrow of your bones. Your wrists burned where the cuffs bit into your skin, your head heavy, every breath shallow and sharp.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed– hours, days? It didn’t matter.

You barely registered the sound of the door creaking open. You didn’t register the heavy footsteps crossing the room.

But the sharp, stinging slap across your cheek tore you from the haze.

Your head snapped to the side, white-hot pain exploding across your face. A strangled gasp ripped from your throat, your vision blurring before swimming back into focus.

Campbell’s smug, self-satisfied face loomed in front of you.

“There she is,” he mused, mocking delight dripping from his voice. “Thought I’d lost you there for a moment.”

You swallowed thickly, your lip splitting further from the impact, fresh blood warm against your tongue. You refused to give him a reaction.

Campbell sighed, pacing a slow circle around the chair. “I thought you’d want to know… I’ve just had a lovely chat with your little boyfriend.”

Your fingers twitched.

He grinned at your silence. “It’s such a shame,” he mused. “He really didn’t seem all that concerned with your whereabouts.”

The words slithered into your skull, venomous and deliberate.

“He didn’t bargain,” Campbell continued, voice light, casual, as if sharing idle gossip. “Didn’t try to make a deal with me.” He let out a soft chuckle. “No concern. No desperation.” He tilted his head.

A sharp pulse of nausea rolled through your gut.

Campbell crouched in front of you, dropping to your eye level, watching. Your hands curled into fists, fingernails biting into your palms.

“Uh oh,” Campbell’s brows lifted, his smirk deepening. “Did I strike a nerve?”

You kept your breathing steady, forcing your expression blank.

Campbell clicked his tongue. “He’s spent his whole life crawling out of the mud, stepping over anyone in his way. And you?” He exhaled, his breath warm against your bloodied skin. “You’re just another casualty.”

Your stomach twisted. Because you knew what Campbell was doing. He was planting doubt. He wanted you to feel alone.

Isolated.

Forgotten.

He wanted you to break.

Your breath came slow and steady, even as your ribs screamed in protest.

Suddenly, Campbell reached out, his fingers ghosted over your cheek, tracing the raw, swollen skin where he’d struck you moments before.

A sickening wave of revulsion crawled up your spine, but you stayed still. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t react.

His touch was light, deliberate, mocking– like he was savoring the moment, like he was testing just how much he could make your skin crawl before you broke. His thumb dragged across your cheekbone, slow and uninvited, his breath too close, too warm, too fucking smug as he leaned in, voice low and cruel.

“Tell me, darling,” he murmured. “When he’s standing over your grave, how long do you think he’ll grieve before moving on?”

The words slid beneath your skin like a blade, cold and cruel. You had sworn that you wouldn’t let him get to you. But you were exhausted. In pain. Alone. And despite every effort to hold it back, a single tear slipped down your cheek.

Campbell saw it immediately. His lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile, his thumb swiping across your cheek to catch the tear, as if savoring it.

“You poor thing,” he murmured, like a man offering pity rather than punishment.

His thumb trailed lower, lingering at the corner of your mouth, where blood had dried, cracked, and split again from his slap. “Perhaps he’ll send a man to lay flowers,” Campbell mused, his voice coated in false sympathy. “Or perhaps, by then, he’ll have found someone new to warm his bed.”

You clenched your jaw, hating yourself for the crack in your composure, hating that he’d seen it– that he was winning.

Campbell sighed dramatically, pulling back just enough to tilt his head, examining you like a man admiring his handiwork.

You swallowed, forcing down the lump in your throat, blinking rapidly to keep any more tears from falling.

But Campbell just smirked. “I must admit,” he mused, stepping back slightly, just enough to give you space to breathe– but not enough to let you feel safe. “I expected more fight.”

His gaze flickered over you, slow and deliberate. “But here you are, crying already. Over Thomas Shelby, nonetheless.”

Campbell watched you, his smirk widening, as if he were enjoying this– watching you swallow back the anger, the revulsion, the fear. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his hand again.

You braced yourself, but he didn’t strike.

Instead, his fingers brushed softly against your cheek a second time, barely a whisper of contact, the touch mockingly gentle.

Your stomach twisted.

“You always were such a pretty little thing,” he mused, almost to himself.

His fingers trailed lower, down the curve of your jaw, his nails grazing your skin.

Don’t react. Don’t flinch.

But your body betrayed you– your breath hitched, your shoulders tensing just slightly.

Campbell noticed again. His smirk deepened, his fingers dragging lower, down the column of your throat. A slow, lazy path. Like he had all the time in the world. You forced yourself to stay still, forced yourself to breathe evenly, even as every inch of your skin screamed to shrink away from his touch.

Campbell hummed, tilting his head as if he were studying you, testing, seeing how far he could push before you broke.

His fingers dipped just below your collarbone.

Your chest tightened.

You focused on keeping still, not giving him what he wanted, but the nausea clawing up your throat made it harder with every passing second.

You could feel his gaze on you, watching, waiting for you to crack– for you to shrink away.

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Uncomfortable, are we?”

You forced your expression to stay blank, biting down on your tongue so hard you tasted blood.

Your skin burned where his touch had been, not from pain, but from the sickening weight of it.

“I have to say I thought about it," he continued, drawing out the words slowly, as if savoring them. "I thought about how it might be, if I took you for myself back then. Before I knew Thomas Shelby had ruined you.”

A wave of nausea rolled through you so violently you almost gagged.

He smiled like he had already won. “Pity,” he murmured, “wasting all that loyalty on someone who’ll never return it.”

Campbell let the silence stretch between you, his smirk widening as if he could feel the unease settling into your bones.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter,” he eventually continued, adjusting his coat as if nothing had happened. “By the time Tommy finds you, if he even bothers to look, there won’t be much left worth saving.”

He gave you one last, lingering look, and then, finally, turned toward the door.

“Get some rest, darling,” he called over his shoulder. “You’ll need it.”

Then the door clicked shut behind him.

The moment his presence was gone, the weight of everything crashed into you all at once.

Your body trembled. Your chest caved.

And before you could stop it, before you could swallow it down and force yourself to be strong, a ragged, broken sob tore free from your throat.

It hurt.

Everything hurt.

Your ribs, your face, your wrists, your lungs, every part of you ached, burned, screamed. But it wasn’t just the pain. It was everything else– the violation. The helplessness. The way Campbell had touched you like you were his to break, his to ruin, like you were nothing more than a pawn in his sick little game.

You gasped out another sob, sharp and ugly, your whole body curling in on itself as much as the cuffs would allow.

Tears streamed down your face, hot and relentless, soaking the raw, stinging skin where he had struck you.

No matter how hard you tried, the sobs kept coming, wrecking you, tearing through your chest like a wound that refused to close.

For the first time since he had taken you, the sheer weight of it all settled like iron chains around your throat.

What if Campbell was telling the truth? What if Tommy wasn’t looking for you? What if you never left this fucking room?

The thoughts came like a flood, drowning you, pulling you under. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to shut them out, trying to force them away. But it wasn’t working. Your breath came in sharp, shaking gasps, your ribs burning with the effort.

You bit down hard on your lip, trying to silence yourself, trying to hold yourself together, but the sobs kept ripping through you. The room felt smaller now, the walls pressing in, the darkness closing around you.

You had never felt so alone.

…

The office was silent, but inside Tommy’s head, it was fucking chaos.

He stood behind his desk, hands braced against the wood, his head hanging low. His fingers dug into the edge, as if that could somehow crush the thoughts in his own head before they consumed him completely.

He exhaled slowly, shaking.

This was his fault.

Every part of this was his fucking fault.

He should have kept you out of it– should have never offered you a job at the Garrison. He should have never let you get this deep in his world– should have sent you far away from Birmingham the second he realized Campbell had set his sights on you.

Instead, he’d let himself believe, for just a moment, that he could have something. That you could be safe. That he could protect you.

And now…

Now you were alone with that fucking bastard, enduring God only knows what.

Tommy growled under his breath, fingers tightening. The pressure in his chest was unbearable, a weight so suffocating it felt like it might crack his ribs open from the inside.

His foot nudged the waste basket in front of his desk, and before he could stop himself, he kicked it.

Hard.

The bin went flying across the room, its contents scattering across the floor before toppling over, crashing against the side of the wall.

The sound barely registered.

He was already pacing.

His pulse thundered in his ears, his movements sharp, restless, fucking useless.

He should be out there, hunting Campbell down, burning his entire fucking operation to the ground, tearing apart every building in the city until he found you.

But instead, he was here.

Waiting. Thinking. Doing absolutely fucking nothing.

And he hated it.

Tommy ran a hand down his face, his breath coming sharp, uneven. He stopped pacing long enough to brace his hands against the desk again, his knuckles white from the force.

Campbell had called him for a reason.

To get inside his fucking head.

To make him feel helpless.

To remind him that no matter how many moves he made, no matter how careful he was, no matter how much control he thought he had–

He could still lose.

Tommy’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached.

Hours passed with no word.

Tommy sat at his desk, head still in his hands, the weight of his own thoughts pressing harder than anything else. He had paced until his legs ached, smoked until the room was thick with it, but nothing, nothing, had dulled the relentless pressure in his ribs.

The sudden knock on the door was sharp, urgent.

Tommy’s head snapped up just as John pushed inside, still damp from the rain, his face set in something tense. Serious.

“Someone’s outside,” John said, voice clipped. “Says he wants to talk to you.”

Tommy sat back, rubbing his fingers over his jaw, his thoughts snapping into sharp focus. “Who?”

John shook his head. “No idea. Bloke spoke to me through the cracked window like he was a fuckin’ spy, I couldn’t see him. He wouldn’t say who he was.”

That made something in Tommy’s gut tighten.

“Could be a setup,” John muttered, watching Tommy carefully.

Tommy exhaled sharply through his nose, dragging a hand down his face. “Or it could be the fucking lead we need.”

John shifted on his feet, restless. “What d’you wanna do?”

Tommy stood, grabbing his coat. “Bring him in.”

John hesitated for half a second. “I tried that. Said he wants to speak outside. In private.”

That made Tommy pause.

His fingers twitched at his sides.

A meeting outside, in private– it didn’t sit right.

If this was a setup, if this was Campbell pulling the strings again, he wasn’t about to walk into it blindly.

John let out a slow breath. “You want me and Arthur to follow?”

Tommy thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No.” His voice was low, measured. “Stay inside. Keep your eyes on the place. If I don’t come back, you’ll know where to start looking.”

John let out a humorless chuckle. “Not funny, Tom.”

Tommy ignored him.

With one last glance between his brothers, he turned and strode toward the door.

The cold air hit him instantly, sharp and damp from the lingering rain. The black motor idled near the curb, its engine humming low beneath the drizzle.

Tommy didn’t hesitate.

He strode toward it, yanked open the back door, and slid inside.

The door shut with a heavy click.

Inside, the air was thick with tobacco smoke and the scent of damp wool.

Tommy didn’t look at the driver. Didn’t look at the man sitting beside him.

He already knew.

Moss.

The corrupt bastard was hunched slightly, his face barely illuminated by the dim glow of a streetlamp filtering through the window. His fingers tapped lightly against his knee, his cigarette smoldering between them.

Tommy leaned back, his voice flat, cold. “What do you know?”

Moss exhaled, the smoke curling from his lips. “I know where she is.”

Tommy stilled. The words hit like a hammer.

He forced his expression to remain blank. “Where.”

Moss chuckled under his breath. “You know better than that, Shelby.”

Tommy’s jaw clenched. “What do you want?”

“Two things.” Moss flicked his cigarette ash out the cracked window before turning to face Tommy properly. “Cash. And assurance.”

Tommy inhaled slowly through his nose. “Assurance for what?”

Moss gave him a look. “Campbell.”

Tommy didn’t blink.

Moss sighed. “He’s had me under his boot for months– made my life a livin’ hell. I want him gone. And if I tell you what I know, I want your word that you’ll make sure that happens.”

Moss shifted in his seat, the dim glow of a street lamp flickering through the car window, highlighting the tired lines of his face. He tilted his head slightly. "He’s got it out for both of us." He let out a quiet chuckle. "But you always find a way to wriggle out, don’t you?"

Tommy finally spoke, his voice flat, unreadable. “So, let me get this straight.” He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearm against his knee. “You want me to put a bullet in him… so you can walk away clean.”

Moss shrugged again, but there was tension in it now. “Call it whatever you want.”

Tommy let the words settle, rolling them over in his mind.

The bastard was desperate. That much was obvious. But it wasn’t just about desperation– it was fear.

Moss knew Campbell was getting reckless.

Tommy’s jaw flexed. “You think I need any motivation to kill the bastard?”

Moss smirked, just slightly. “No.” He inhaled slowly through his nose. “I just want to make sure you do it first.”

Tommy exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face before resting his forearm on his knee, his sharp gaze locked onto Moss.

“How much?”

Moss tilted his head. “What?”

Tommy’s fingers twitched. “The fucking money. How much do you want?”

Moss hummed, pretending to think, but Tommy could see it– the greed flickering beneath the fear. He wasn’t just a desperate man trying to survive; he was a man trying to get whatever he could before running.

“Five thousand,” Moss said finally.

Tommy scoffed, shaking his head. “You must think I’m a fucking idiot.”

Moss’s smirk faltered slightly, but he held his ground. “It’s a fair price.”

Tommy’s eyes darkened. “Two.”

Moss let out a humorless chuckle. “You really think you’re in much of a position to be negotiating here? I’m not taking two, Shelby.”

Tommy hummed, dragging a cigarette from his coat pocket, rolling it between his fingers before striking a match. “What I think,” he muttered, lighting the end, letting the smoke curl slow through the cramped air, “is that you’re just another rat trying to climb out of a sinking ship.”

Moss exhaled sharply, shifting in his seat. “Three, then.”

Tommy took a slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling smoke

A beat passed.

Then another.

Finally, he gave a sharp nod. “Three.”

Moss relaxed slightly, but only just.

Tommy tapped the ash off his cigarette, his eyes unreadable. “You’ll get your fucking money. Now tell me where she is.”

Moss didn’t hesitate. He pulled a folded slip of paper from his coat pocket and handed it over.

“Basement of an old textile mill,” he muttered. “Near the canal. Off the books. No station. No records.”

Tommy took it, fingers tight around it.

Moss exhaled. “Better go quick, Shelby. I overheard Campbell talking today. I don’t think he’s been very kind to her, if you know what I mean.”

The air in the car shifted.

Tommy inhaled slowly through his nose, the only outward sign that he’d registered the words.

Inside, though, the fire was raging. He knew what Campbell was like. Knew how he worked. Every second he was here, every second he let this sniveling rat talk, was another second you were alone with that bastard.

Moss must have noticed the change in his expression because his amusement faltered.

Tommy leaned in, his voice quiet, lethal.

“If I find out you’ve fucked me on this, Moss,” he murmured, “I’ll carve out that smug fucking tongue and nail it to my desk. Do you understand?”

Moss swallowed hard, nodding quickly.

Tommy held his gaze a second longer, then pushed the car door open, stepping out into the cold. The rain hit his skin, slicing through his coat, but he barely felt it. His mind was already moving. Already calculating.

He strode back toward the betting shop, his breath sharp, controlled.

For the first time in days, Tommy felt a semblance of peace. Because by the end of the night, Campbell wouldn’t live to see the fucking sunrise.

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marvelwitchergilmore · 4 months ago

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Meant To Be (2)

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> The day you disappeared from the world.

Disclaimer: This is part two/prequel to Meant To Be. Angst, Fluff, Bucky and Reader having feelings for each other, platonic!Howard Stark, mentions of death, swearing, mourning. Not Proof Read.

You pounded your fist on the front door only to be greeted by Mr Jarvis.

“Ms Y/l/n.”

“Sorry, Mr Jarvis. I didn’t think you’d be awake yet. Is he here?”

“Still in bed, Ms.”

Jarvis just opened the door wider for you to step inside. “I was just about to take him his morning breakfast.”

“I’m afraid it will have to be on the go this morning, Mr Jarvis.”

“Yes, Ms.”

As you had done for as long as you could remember since meeting Howard Stark, you headed towards his bedroom in order to pull him from his bed.

“Alright, Stark. Get up.”

Howard just groaned from under the covers. It sounded like he said “Five more minutes,”.

“Nope. Not this morning. The Colonel has been on my ass all week about you and I’ll be damned,” you pulled the heavy covers from his body. “If I let my ass get reprimanded because of your ass. So, get up.”

Howard groaned again.

“Mr Jarvis!” You called out behind you. “You wouldn’t happen to have an ice cold pitcher of water by any chance.”

“Why, yes. In fact, I’m just readying Mr Stark one now.”

That got Howard up out of bed. He practically sprang to the other side. “No. You’re not doing that again.”

“Get up when I tell you and I’ll never do it again.”

“I’m up. Are you happy now, sweet cheeks?”

You deadpanned him before throwing the clean washcloth that lay on his bedside table. Howard was known for washing his face first thing before he got out of bed. According to him, it kept him looking “young and attractive,”.

“Get cleaned up. I’ll be outside.”

Giving Howard a ride into work, you were both greeted with almost all the SSR members hustling around the place.

“Is something going on today that I’m not aware of?”

“It’s testing day,” Howard told you as he lay his briefcase over the chair in front of him.

Meanwhile, you were hanging your coat up on the coat rack, taking the space in around you as Howard walked away. But you couldn’t stand comprehending the super soldier in the corner, blushing as Peggy accidentally touched his hand, or the boys everyone knew had lied on their enlistment form but still allowed it anyway, or the ego-centric scientist washing a hand over one of the girl’s asses, for too long.

Within minutes of you entering the building, Bucky had found you.

“How long do you think it’ll take today?”

You jumped a little, holding onto your coat on the rack a little tighter. “Jesus- Do you always have to sneak up on me?”

“It’s not my fault you don’t hear me.”

“That’s because you walk as if you’ve got a secret to hide.” Letting go of your coat, you picked your files up from the main desk, Bucky hot on your heels.

“Not true. Well, maybe a little. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Well, looking at it now…” You and Bucky paused side by side.

You found that, often when standing together, there was barely an inch of room between you and Bucky. Which, although you were managing to handle, was doing no good for the crush you realised you had slowly developed over the last couple of months.

He’d just sat there across the desk, looking tired and all kinds of handsome. You’d seen him sitting like that a hundred times or more, but for some reason that night was when your stomach decided to erupt with butterflies.

But, you were handling it.

You thought you already had it handled until three days ago when Peggy cornered you in the ladies bathroom. Josie, one of the secretaries, had sauntered her way over looking all perfect and pretty. She’d touched his arm, leaning in close to him. He’s smiled at her and, despite seeing him smile at plenty of girls like that, even recently. For the first time, you’d been jealous.

It was an ugly emotion and you didn’t like yourself very much for feeling it. Bucky- James. He was your friend. One of your best friends. Someone you could talk to about anything. There wasn’t a single part of you willing to risk that.

“I’d say we’re a few months away from something actually happening.”

Bucky scoffed. “He’ll ask her out. He just needs a little coaching, that's all.”

“Coaching?” You laughed. “From who? You?”

Bucky seemed a little offended. “I’ve had plenty of successful dates.”

You tried to not let that sting as much as it did.

“He just needs some confidence.”

You chuckled. “Okay, Romeo. But I know I’m right. And here.”

You pushed a file into his chest.

“What’s this?”

You tried to ignore the feeling that erupted inside of you when his hand brushed yours.

“Your paperwork. I saw you sneak it into my pile last night.”

You continued on walking, Bucky walking a little further behind you.

“You know, if I knew the army contained this much paperwork, I would have had second thoughts.”

You just threw a smile over your shoulder to him, watching as he sat at his desk.

Steve’s desk was joined onto his, meanwhile, directly diagonal to Bucky was your desk. In front of you was Peggy’s desk. So, although Peggy and Steve would have to turn a little to look at each other, you and Bucky had a direct eyeline to one another.

Something else that didn’t help the crush you were harbouring on him.

There was just something…handsome about the way he looked when he was concentrating. In his own little world, flipping and writing between pages. And for a moment, you’d wonder if that is what it would have been like if you’d gone to school together.

You’d been with him to plenty of museums and tech conventions. You’d seen the true side of Bucky. One that was rarely seen. His nerdy wonder and enjoyment.

It was barely two hours before Bucky stood and walked over to your desk. He had tried thirty minutes ago but the Colonel had walked by his desk, stopping in front of him since he’d caught him staring at you across the room.

The Colonel had just hummed, however, before muttering something to himself.

“Just as bad as the others.”

Bucky had wondered what the Colonel meant, until he followed his next eyeline over to the map desk where Steve was standing with Peggy.

Then he moved on.

Bucky knocked on your desk twice to get your attention. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I was wondering if you’d want to come with me on Saturday.”

“Aren’t we working on Saturday?”

Bucky shook his head. “No. We’re both off. There’s a new exhibit being put on at the museum and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

Bucky had attended plenty of museum and tech conventions alone. But his favourite ones were the ones where you’d attend with him. He got to be closer to you. He’d hear you talk about whatever thing you’d been waiting to talk to him about. He got to hear your laugh and by the end of the night, he got to hold your hand.

You smiled. “You need me to run the ladies off again?”

Bucky chuckled. “Maybe. Just so long as you stay.”

You looked up at him. This man.

“Okay.”

Bucky smiled. “Pick you up at four?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

That was when a small alarm sounded and Bucky responded to it.

“I better go,” he said before running off. But then he came back. “Make sure Peggy doesn’t touch my desk.”

You nodded. “I promise.”

Bucky smiled. “See you soon, doll.”

You smiled, watching him jog down the hall and towards the control room. Meanwhile, Howard appeared around the corner.

“Y/n?”

You knew that look on his face. He needed your help.

“What have you done?”

Standing up, you left your things at your desk and followed him through the building and towards the basement.

“I haven’t done anything. Well, not yet.”

You sighed. “Show me.”

Entering the room, it was just yourself, Howard and two of his researchers. “The chemical equation is wrong.”

“Don’t you know how to fix it?”

“It doesn’t need to be fixed.”

You looked at him as you examined his machinery. “I understand you’re incredibly smart, Howard. But you’re not making any sense.”

Howard sighed. “The last time I used it, it worked. My math is never wrong.”

“Then change it.”

“I can’t. Any higher and it won’t just melt the machinery, it’ll melt human skin.”

You grimaced at the thought. “You know, if you boys let women do more of the talking, there is a higher chance that war wouldn’t be taking place.”

“Well, right now there’s a war going on in here. Can you…can you help?”

You took a look at his blackboard.

“It’s not your math.”

“I know that.”

You shrugged. “Have you tested a model of this size before?”

“That’s what today is for.”

“Uh, Mr Stark?” One of the researchers popped their heads up. “I think I might have found our problem.”

You watched as Howard walked over towards the control panel that had been recently forced open.

“Well- what is that? Oh, jesus. Is that a bolt? What’s it doing-”

As Howard pulled it out, everyone heard a big clunk!

“Is the building still standing?” You asked after a few minutes of silence.

Howard looked around at the walls and along the floor. Nothing had cracked the concrete. As far as he was aware; the building was still standing.

“Yep. Must be one of the inner mechanisms. Hand me that crowbar?”

You spun around until you saw the workstation and picked up the rusting metal crowbar.

“Military issue. Not the prettiest thing in the world, but she gets the job done.” Howard explained as he began to yank one of the side panels off.

“We figure, if we can make this thing industrial size, we’ll be able to fit it on top of a tank. That way, if it fits on one, it can melt one.” Howard continued to talk as he lay on the floor and practically got inside of the machine itself.

You crouched down on the floor, peering inside. There had to be at least thirty main electrical wires, feeding some kind of blue and green substance into tubes.

“You become more peculiar the longer I know you, Howard.”

From his space on the floor, he looked at you and smiled. “Thanks. Pass me that thing, will you, toots?”

Rolling your eyes, you moved behind you and reached for the socket wrench that had been laying on the floor. You handed it to him before standing up and looking around the rest of the machine.

“Do I even wanna know when you came up with this idea?”

“Uhh.”

Howard was stalling. Usually when he stalled it was because he had been in another tryst with a woman who was most definitely off limits.

“Alright,” you chuckled.

Howard sighed. “You know what, you’re always on at me about my…friends.”

“That’s what you’re calling them now? Not production assistants?”

“What about you and Bucky, huh? I see the way you two look at each other. You’re really gonna tell me nothing is going on there.”

“We’re just friends, Howard.”

“Friends, my ass.” Howard lifted himself from the ground to peek out of his hiding place to look at you. You were standing with one heel across the other, a hand on your hip, staring down at him like you were his mother scolding him for doing something wrong in school…again.

“You and I are friends. No matter how many times I try to make it something else.” He muttered that last part to himself but you heard it anyway and chuckled.

Howard was a flirt. A shameless flirt. It just so happened that, before Peggy, you were one of the first to let the flirting comments fall.

Howard disappeared back under the machine for a moment.

“You and Bucky, however, are not.”

“Howard-”

“What are you doing this weekend?”

“Going to a museum.”

“With?” Howard pressed.

“Bucky.”

Finally, Howard stood from the ground and looked at you across the console desk.

“It’s not what you think.”

Howard just smiled. “You and Barnes are going on, yet another, date. You like him. I know, because every time you look at him, you get the same goofy look in your eyes that Mr Jarvis does when he looks at his wife.”

You tried to hide your embarrassment, but it only seemed to come out as annoyance against Howard.

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do. And, I also know,” Howard was moving around the console towards you. “That Bucky has deep feelings for you.”

Howard was standing in front of you. He didn’t have to raise his voice anymore.

“He likes you, Y/n. And we’re at war. I don’t like thinking like that, but there’s no escaping the truth. We’re at war and a lot more people are gonna be losing their loved ones. Maybe it’s about time you took a chance with yours.”

You just stared at Howard. He had a point.

“He’d be lucky to have you.”

You took a breath before turning away. “I thought we were down here to start testing, not discuss my…that.”

Howard smiled. “You know I’m right,” he practically sang as he walked away, wielding his wrench like a conductor.

Ten minutes later, everything was seemingly ready.

As one of the other researchers left to go and get the Colonel, Howard started the controls up so everything would be ready by the time people arrived.

Only, as Howard started flicking buttons, you stood up.

“Howard.”

Something was beginning to shake in the room.

“Is it meant to be doing that?”

“No…”

Howard moved around the panels to take a look at the dials. Everything seemed normal.

Then it started to shake even more.

It was almost like your washing machine had been set onto a fast spin, but this time you were inside of the rattling machine.

“Howard!”

“I’m on it.”

“What can I do?”

Howard didn’t answer you, but it didn’t matter. Because within seconds, the arm of the machine started going haywire and as Howard yelled at everyone to get down, you felt the wind get knocked out of you.

As Howard finally shut down the machine from the inside, tearing at one of the wires, the building stopped shaking and the Colonel, along with Peggy, ran inside.

“Stark! What the hell is going on?!” The Colonel yelled.

“I wish I could tell you.” Howard stood, his legs still shaking from the movement in the floor. “Something must have come loose.”

“What the hell is that?”

Peggy pointed and everyone looked at what it was. A smattering of blue dust and what could only be described as a bullet exit wound, cracking into the concrete wall.

More people joined, running inside asking questions but fell silent when they saw the damage.

Cracks along the walls, machinery and different liquids on the floor, and a large crack in place of where you had been standing.

“Y/n? Where’s Y/n?”

“Stark! Where is my Agent?!”

“I…I don’t…” Howard was in shock.

Peggy sprang into action. Maybe you hadn’t been hit. Maybe you’d taken cover or not been in the room at all. People started following her orders to find you.

“Stark, where is my agent?” The Colonel asked as he approached him. “Now, she better not be dead or else I’ll have your neck for this.”

Howard shook his head. “You need a body to be dead.”

They both knew that to be true, but considering the fight they were having with Red Skull and a Super Soldier, it was quite plausible to have a death without a body.

Meanwhile, down one of the hallways, Peggy ran into both Bucky and Steve.

“Hey, what the hell was that shaking-”

“Have you seen Y/n?”

“I thought she was with Howard.”

Peggy shook her head. “Something went wrong.”

“What went wrong?”

“We, uh, we don’t know yet. But I just…”

As Steve took Peggy by the shoulder, Bucky made a run for it down to Howard’s lab. He saw the Colonel sat with Howard, but his commander quickly stood up and walked over to him.

“Barnes-”

“Where is she? What happened to her?”

“We’re still trying to figure that one out.”

In the days that followed, Bucky didn’t know his head from his feet. He’d just spoken to you that morning. You were meant to be meeting him for dinner that evening. He was meant to be taking you out that Saturday.

Nobody could bring themselves to clear away your desk. It was just how you’d left it. Open files, half finished paperwork, scrap pieces of paper with ideas and things written down.

But when the Colonel got word someone was coming in to replace you, he went to one person.

“Son?”

It was after hours and Bucky was yet to leave his desk. Mostly, his eyes had been focused on your desk, where you should have been sitting, scolding him for staying too late because it meant you had to stay late. Then he’d tell you, you didn’t have to stay, to which you tell him you wouldn’t let him work alone.

Bucky looked up and saw the empty box in his arms.

“Someone needs to clean out her desk and I think it should be you. They’ve got a replacement coming tomorrow.”

Bucky swallowed down his fear; accepting you were gone for good. And he took the box.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, son.” The Colonel held his shoulder as he stood up. “I know she meant a lot to you. You meant a lot to her, too.”

The Colonel had seen the red, tearful eyes of Bucky for the last few days. The dejected look each time he looked up and found your desk empty, the bow of his head as he’d hide his face every time someone said your name.

It had taken both the Colonel and Steve to pull him from Howard’s throat.

And now he was left to clear out your desk.

And for a while, he managed to keep his emotions in check. Sweeping away your files, adding them to his pile to finish for you. Clipping all your notes together, cleaning away the ink stains of your fingerprints by the edge of your desk.

Then taking the pictures from your desk, seeing your smiling face, placing them inside the box.

Then he found a key.

Bucky had pulled out your chair and sat down before opening up the locked drawer of your desk. That’s when all control over his emotions left him.

Inside, along with some more of your personal belongings, was a notepad. Each date had been crossed off, as had the things listed under it. Except for the one that you had started at the beginning of the week.

It was all the things you wanted to talk to him about; at dinner, walking home, and on Saturday. You made a list so you wouldn’t forget or accidently leave anything out.

And for a second, he smiled.

Then he cried.

You’d never get to talk to him about these things. He’d never hear your voice again. He’d never see you smile or roll your eyes or scoff or hear you yell at him. He’d never hear you laugh again.

It was hours before he left your desk and went home, keeping your box of things under his bed in case you came back. Howard was adamant that you would. The blast wasn’t strong enough to kill, but it was strong enough to melt. But, he hadn’t made it to melt human skin.

So you shouldn’t have died.

You couldn’t be dead.

You had to be alive…somehow.

And that was the thought, for as much as he wanted to kill Howard, Bucky kept with him.

That you were still out there, somewhere, and that you’d come home.

But the longer time went on, the harder that idea was to accept.

People started to mourn in their own ways. Mr Jarvis and his wife set out your favourite flowers on their dinner table on your birthday. The same flowers Howard started growing in his garden a week after you had disappeared. The Colonel had sent Peggy to make sure the gravestone issued for you was just right. Nothing too fancy; after all, there was still hope you’d come back. Steve, along with the other Howling Commandos, raised a toast in your honour.

But when the day came that Bucky fell from the train…

Only one thing made him smile. And that was that he’d get to see you again.

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