#Wanda Lock Screen

[this-is-chaos-magick]

how I sit in the corner after I make a stupid ass joke and no one reacted

[urdreamydoodles]

X-MEN x FEM!READER

The X-Men Receiving a Dirty Picture from You in Public

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier, Emma Frost, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Hank McCoy, Laura Kinney & Wade Wilson

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

You aren’t sure what possesses you to send it—not exactly. Maybe it’s boredom, maybe it’s the way Logan’s been gone longer than expected, leaving you restless. Either way, you know it’s reckless. The second the picture sends, you can already hear his voice in your head: Darlin’, you got a death wish? But you know Logan, know that he’s a beast caged in skin, and there’s nothing he loves more than being provoked by you.

He’s at a dive bar when his phone vibrates. The place is crowded, a few bikers at his table arguing over a pool game. Logan isn’t paying attention—until he glances at his screen. The moment he sees you, bare and sinful, every muscle in his body locks up. His breath hitches, his grip on his beer tightening until the glass threatens to crack. The scent of his own arousal floods his senses, so sharp he’s sure the few mutants around can catch it. One of the bikers nudges him, saying something about his "weird face," but Logan’s already pocketing the phone, jaw clenched.

He needs to get out of here. He doesn’t get embarrassed—not exactly—but the heat that licks up his spine is too much, too distracting. Logan swipes his tongue across his teeth, exhaling hard through his nose as he stands. His voice is a growl, all gravel and heat. “Got somewhere to be.” His movements are stiff, his body thrumming with need as he shoves out of the bar, barely resisting the urge to snarl at the people in his way.

The second he’s outside, he presses a number on his phone. When you pick up, he doesn’t say hello. His voice is low, dangerous. “You got no idea what you just started, sweetheart.” His free hand flexes at his side, his control razor-thin. “You better be home when I get there. And you better be ready.” Then he hangs up, already making his way to his bike, his thoughts full of nothing but you.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

Remy is used to being desired. He knows the weight of hungry stares, the way people fall over themselves trying to get his attention. But you—you’re different. You make him ache. And you know it. Which is why you send the picture when you do, when he’s at a poker table, mid-game, surrounded by half a dozen people.

He sees the message light up his phone and, without thinking, checks it. The second the image fills his screen, his pupils dilate, his breath hitching just enough that the man across from him—some big-shot casino owner—narrows his eyes. “Something wrong, LeBeau?” Remy schools his features quickly, smirking as he locks his phone. “Non, mon ami,” he drawls, voice smooth despite the heat licking at his spine. “Just feelin’ a little… distracted.”

But he is struggling. His heartbeat is unsteady, his palms itching to touch, to grab. You’ve effectively thrown him off his game, and you know it. He shifts in his seat, stretching his legs out, forcing himself to focus. But his mind keeps circling back to the curve of your body, the way your skin looked in the dim lighting. His fingers twitch, itching to shuffle his deck, to channel all this pent-up energy somewhere before it burns him alive.

He doesn’t text back. No, that would be too easy. Instead, he waits until he’s out of the game, until he’s walking down the neon-lit streets of New Orleans. Then he calls you, his voice a lazy purr. “Ma belle, you really gon’ tease me like that?” He pauses, his smile slow, wicked. “Think you should be waitin’ by the door for me, chérie. Don’t want me comin’ in all impatient now, do you?”

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

Kurt is used to wanting. He has spent a lifetime longing for things he believes he doesn’t deserve—love, touch, a home. But then there’s you, and you make him greedy. So when his phone vibrates in the middle of a crowded hallway at the Xavier Institute, he doesn’t think much of it. Not until he sees what you’ve sent.

His tail flicks so fast it nearly knocks over a nearby vase. A choked sound catches in his throat, his golden eyes widening, pupils dilating. He should look away, should pocket his phone before someone notices. But instead, he stares, heat rushing to his face so quickly it nearly makes him dizzy. The image of you burns itself into his mind, searing and divine.

Someone calls his name, and he nearly jumps out of his skin, fumbling to lock his phone. His three-fingered hand twitches, his tail coiling around his waist as he forces a shaky breath. Gott im Himmel, you’re going to be the death of him. He can feel the heat rising to the tips of his ears, can sense the way some of the younger students glance at him in curiosity. He clears his throat, tugging at the high collar of his uniform, muttering something about needing air.

The moment he’s alone, he teleports straight to your room, appearing in a burst of sulfur and smoke. His voice is hoarse, thick with something between reverence and hunger. “Liebes… do you have any idea what you have done to me?” He steps closer, eyes gleaming in the dim light. “I hope you are prepared to confess your sins… because I am more than willing to be your punishment.”

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

Scott prides himself on control. It is all he’s ever known—containing his power, his emotions, his every sharp-edged want. But you? You make control feel like a curse. So when his phone vibrates in the middle of a team debriefing, he barely glances at it. Until he does. And then his world tilts.

His breath halts, heat rushing up his throat so fast it makes him dizzy. The conversation around him blurs, the sound of Logan and Ororo discussing strategy fading into static. He swallows hard, locking his phone, fingers tightening into a fist on his thigh. You are going to ruin him.

“Scott?” Jean’s voice pulls him back. He clears his throat, straightening his shoulders. “Yeah,” he says, voice just a little too tight. “I’m fine.” But he’s not fine. His skin is too hot, his thoughts spiraling. He adjusts his visor, as if that’ll help him regain some semblance of control. It doesn’t. He can still see the image burned into his mind, can still feel the ache you’ve ignited in him.

The moment the meeting ends, he heads straight to his quarters, his movements stiff, controlled. He doesn’t call, doesn’t text. Instead, he waits until he’s inside, the door locked. Then he pulls out his phone, staring at the image for a long, slow moment before finally responding: You just made a very big mistake, sweetheart. And you’re going to spend all night making up for it.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

Jean is used to knowing. She reads people as easily as turning a page in a book. But you—you manage to surprise her. When her phone vibrates, she’s mid-conversation with Ororo, standing in the bustling halls of the X-Mansion. She checks the message out of habit, and then—Oh.

The world around her vanishes. Her breath catches, her fingers gripping her phone tighter. Heat blooms beneath her skin, a slow, simmering thing. She locks her phone quickly, but not before Ororo arches an eyebrow, a knowing smirk curling her lips. “Something interesting?” Jean lifts her chin, feigning nonchalance. “Just a… distraction.”

But she is not unaffected. No, she can still feel the pull of you, the way you linger in her mind like a whispered temptation. She exhales slowly, steadying herself. You’ve always had a way of making her unravel, of setting her pulse racing with just a look, a touch. And now, with that picture—she knows exactly what you’re doing.

So she doesn’t text back. Instead, she closes her eyes, reaching out mentally, brushing against your thoughts with a teasing whisper: You’re playing a very dangerous game, darling. And you know I always win.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

Ororo has always carried herself with grace. There is a quiet strength in her, an effortless command of any room she enters. But when her phone vibrates, when she glances at the screen and sees you, bare and unapologetic in your teasing, even a goddess can stumble.

She is in the middle of the X-Mansion’s garden, surrounded by students tending to the plants under her guidance. The air is warm, the scent of rain lingering from a previous storm. But the second she opens your message, heat spreads through her veins like wildfire. Her fingers tighten around the phone, the wind around her shifting just slightly, enough for the nearby students to glance up in confusion.

With practiced ease, she takes a steady breath, forcing composure to settle over her. She locks her phone, tucking it away in the folds of her robe, but the image of you remains burned in her mind. She has faced gods and walked through storms, but nothing has ever made her this desperate. She exhales slowly, smiling at the students before dismissing them early.

Later, when she is alone in her room, she finally allows herself to look again, to savor. Then, with a smirk, she types out a message: You test the patience of a goddess, beloved. But I promise you—when I return, I will show you the consequences of such boldness.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

Rogue ain’t shy. Not really. But there are certain things she doesn’t expect—like her phone buzzing in her back pocket while she’s in the middle of a conversation with Logan. She pulls it out absently, expecting a mission update. But when she sees your name, when she opens the image—her whole body locks up.

"You good, kid?" Logan asks, eyebrow raised as she nearly drops the phone. Rogue snaps the screen down against her thigh so fast she nearly fumbles it. "I—uh—yeah! Peachy!" But she can feel the heat rushing to her face, burning down her neck. Logan narrows his eyes, but she’s already stepping back, waving him off. "I—uh—gotta go!" She turns so fast her boots squeak against the floor.

She beelines for the nearest empty room, slamming the door shut before pressing her back against it, exhaling hard. "Mon Dieu…" she mutters, staring at the phone again. The sight of you makes her stomach flip, makes her hands itch with the desire to touch—even though she knows she can’t. And maybe that’s what makes it even worse, the sheer torture of it.

Her fingers hover over the keyboard before she smirks, biting her lip. She types back, her accent thick even in text: Ya better be waitin' for me, sugar. ‘Cause I got some real pent-up frustration I need to work out.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

Erik is a man of control. He has spent his entire life bending the world to his will, shaping metal and fate alike with the force of his power. But when he sees your message, all that careful composure fractures like shattered steel.

He is in the middle of a political gathering, surrounded by dignitaries and mutants alike, discussing the future of mutantkind. He is calm, poised, his presence commanding the room. But then—his phone buzzes. And when he checks it—his grip on his glass tightens. The metal bends beneath his fingers, distorting under the force of his sudden, sharp desire.

He exhales slowly, willing himself to focus, but it’s impossible. His thoughts are consumed by the image of you, the sheer audacity of what you’ve done. He lifts his eyes, scanning the room, but the conversation has blurred into meaningless noise. He is no longer interested in politics. No, there is only you now, and the punishment you so clearly deserve.

Later, in the privacy of his chambers, he finally allows himself to react. He sets his drink down, removing his gloves with slow, deliberate movements. Then, he types a message: You are a very foolish woman, my dear. And I am a very dangerous man. I suggest you prepare yourself accordingly.

Charles Xavier aka. Professor X

Charles is used to knowing things before they happen. His telepathy grants him insight into the minds of others, makes surprises a rare thing. But you—you always manage to catch him off guard. So when his phone vibrates mid-lecture, when he absentmindedly glances at the screen—he nearly chokes.

His fingers tighten around the armrest of his wheelchair, his usually composed demeanor faltering for the briefest moment. He quickly locks the screen, but it’s too late—the image of you is seared into his thoughts. And worse, the faintest flicker of his reaction has echoed across his psychic link with you, letting you feel the way his breath hitched, the way his pulse stuttered.

He clears his throat, composing himself with practiced ease. "Shall we continue?" he asks smoothly, though his mind is miles away. The students remain oblivious, but you? Oh, you know. And Charles can feel your amusement through the bond you share, a teasing whisper against his mind.

Later, in the quiet of his study, he sends a message—not with his phone, but directly into your thoughts, his voice smooth, measured. My dear, if you wished to test my restraint, you have succeeded. But I fear you’ve also ensured that when I return, you will be left utterly undone.

Emma Frost aka. The White Queen

Emma Frost is not easily shaken. She has built an empire on her confidence, her ability to keep control in even the most delicate of situations. But when she receives your message, she very nearly gasps.

She is at a Hellfire Gala, surrounded by high society, diamonds glittering at her throat. The room is alive with conversation, champagne glasses clinking. She is draped across a velvet chaise, effortlessly poised—until she sees you on her screen. The way her lips part, just slightly, is the only betrayal of her reaction.

With a slow inhale, she tilts her phone away from prying eyes, locking the screen. But inside, her mind is already buzzing. You have nerve, sending this while she’s in public. It’s a power play, a challenge. And Emma does not lose. She takes another sip of champagne, a knowing smirk curling her lips.

Later, when she is alone, she finally lets herself look again, savoring the way you look—so tempting, so utterly hers. Then, with a slow, deliberate tap, she types: My darling, I do hope you enjoyed your little game. But let me make one thing clear—you are mine to tease. And when I return, I will remind you exactly why.

Wanda Maximoff aka. Scarlet Witch

Wanda has spent most of her life feeling like the world was just a little too unsteady. Magic crackles beneath her skin, her emotions tied too tightly to the fabric of reality itself. But when her phone vibrates in the middle of a very serious conversation with Doctor Strange, she has no idea the real chaos is about to begin.

She checks the message absentmindedly, but the second she sees you, bare and utterly wicked, the world around her tilts. The air shimmers—just slightly—like heat rising from pavement. Wanda sucks in a sharp breath, locking her phone quickly, but it’s too late. Strange is watching her with an arched brow, the flicker of mystical energy curling at her fingertips a dead giveaway.

“Are you alright, Wanda?” Strange’s voice is calm, but there’s a glint of amusement in his gaze. Wanda clears her throat, forcing her magic back under control, smoothing her expression into something composed. “Fine,” she says, a little too quickly. But inside, her mind is burning, and it’s all your fault.

When she finally gets a moment alone, she sends a message—not with her phone, but with her magic, a whisper of her voice threading into your mind: You have no idea the kind of spell you’ve just cast, my love. But don’t worry—I’ll break it soon enough. And when I do, you won’t be able to breathe without thinking of me.

Pietro Maximoff aka. Quicksilver

Pietro is always moving. His mind, his body, his thoughts—everything is fast, too fast for the rest of the world to keep up with. But when his phone buzzes, and he actually takes the time to check it, the impossible happens—he stops.

He’s in the middle of a conversation with Clint Barton, something about training drills, when he pulls out his phone. And then—bam. His mouth shuts, his brain short-circuits, and for the first time in years, he is frozen.

“...Pietro?” Clint frowns, waving a hand in front of his face. “You good, man?” Pietro’s fingers twitch, and suddenly, he is gone, zipping out of the room at impossible speed. The moment he stops—several cities away, in the middle of nowhere—he grips his phone, running a hand through his silver hair.

Then he smirks, his heartbeat pounding. He types back, quick as lightning: You are so cruel, bellezza. But don’t worry—I’ll be home in five seconds. Hope you’re ready for me.

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

Hank prides himself on his intelligence, his ability to remain rational in even the most unexpected situations. But when his phone vibrates in the middle of a scientific symposium, and he—without thinking—checks it, all rational thought leaves his brain.

His glasses slide down his nose. His usually eloquent mind is reduced to pure static. He should lock his phone, put it away, but instead, his blue-furred fingers tighten around the device as his brain short-circuits. A faint growl rumbles in his throat before he catches himself, quickly clearing it.

“Dr. McCoy?” One of his colleagues is staring at him, waiting for a response to a question he definitely didn’t hear. Hank straightens, adjusting his glasses, willing his heartbeat to slow. “Ah—yes. My apologies. I seem to have been... momentarily distracted.”

The second he’s alone, he finally allows himself to breathe. Then, adjusting his tie, he sends a message: My dear, I do hope you’re prepared to be thoroughly lectured on the consequences of distracting a scientist. In great detail. Preferably with a demonstration.

Laura Kinney aka. X-23 / Wolverine

Laura doesn’t get flustered. She doesn’t blush, doesn’t stammer. But when her phone vibrates, and she checks it in the middle of a mission briefing with Logan, something deep in her animal brain nearly malfunctions.

She sees the image, and every muscle in her body locks up. Her sharp, enhanced senses go into overdrive. Her claws almost unsheathe from sheer tension. Logan is talking, saying something about enemy patterns, but she hears none of it. The only thing in her head is you.

“Laura?” Logan’s voice pulls her back, and she snaps her phone shut, jaw tight. “Tch,” she mutters, shifting in her seat, pretending like she isn’t burning alive under her own skin. “Nothing. Keep talking.” But she’s not okay. She’s seething with the need to do something about this, now.

The moment the briefing is over, she finds the nearest exit, presses her back against the cold wall, and breathes. Then, she types—short, sharp, dangerous: You think that was funny? Good. Let’s see if you’re still laughing when I get my hands on you.

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

Wade is always unhinged. Nothing shocks him. Nothing catches him off guard. But when his phone pings in the middle of a mercenary bar, and he casually opens your message—his brain leaks out of his ears.

“Oh holy chimichangas.” His voice is too loud, and every thug in the bar turns to look at him. Wade barely notices, his masked face tilting down at his phone, staring. Staring so hard his mask is probably fogging up.

One of the mercs nudges him. “You good, Wilson?” Wade slowly lifts his head, his voice an octave higher than usual. “I have never been better. In fact, I am having a religious experience. Thank you for asking.” Then he stands—abruptly—phone clutched to his chest like a lifeline.

The second he’s outside, he’s already typing, fingers flying: BABE. BABY. LOVE OF MY LIFE. I AM ON MY WAY. DON’T MOVE. ACTUALLY, MOVE A LITTLE, STRETCH OR SOMETHING. MAYBE DO A LITTLE TWIRL. OH GOD. I’M RUNNING HOME IN SLOW MOTION FOR DRAMATIC EFFECT.

[infictionalwonderland]

Hey, I hope you’re having a good day! I had an idea, Marvel cast flirting with y/n for x minutes?

. . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT!

part 2 / part 3

Coming home from an extremely long and stressful day/week was unfortunately something very familiar to you—so familiar that you and your best friend (your not famous best friend who was your pilar through all the chaos fame brought) had created a little routine; she’d send you various videos and links to movies and online books she knew would relax and amuse you.

So, cuddled up in your bed with your pyjamas and your star lights on (a true child at heart, always) you opened up your chats with them and eagerly swiped to see that they’d sent.

‘Marvel Cast Flirting with Y/N Y/L/N For 10 Minutes Straight!’ was the video for tonight.

Immediately you cackled to yourself, hurriedly sending your best friend thanks in the form of ironic emojis and frantic proclamations of undying love, before loading up the (true to prior word) ten minute long video.

Surely this was an exaggeration.

The video began, large letters in a cute font appearing on the dark screen ‘the marvel cast all being in love flirting with y/n for ten minutes’. The quick ‘AS THEY SHOULD’ before the clips started playing made you giggle to yourself.

The first clip was from some years back, you were pretty sure this was a premiere for The Avengers, given how you looked and the quality—you were standing opposite on interview, smile on your face and dressed in a pretty outfit the same colour of your character’s aesthetic.

“How do you feel about your costume?”

Before you could even answer the interviews question, Scarlett intercepted your interview—hair in a short red bob and a smirking grin at her lips as she wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Well I know how we all feel about this ladies costume, it’s a beautiful piece that just makes the women wearing all the more beautiful. If that’s even possible.”

The edit quickly gave Scarlett beating heart eyes for you as she didn’t tear her eyes away from you for a second—making present time you laugh.

With that she kissed your cheek, leaving a red mark of her lipstick and walked away, dramatically winking in your direction.

The second clip was a blooper, from .. Captain America: Civil War, you thought. You were on Sebastian’s shoulders, thighs locked over his head—in character, as your character and his were mid fight.

He stumbled back over a table accidentally and you let out a startled yelp, hands flying to steady yourself in his long hair and one of his landing on your arse cheek to steady you as he steadied himself with the other.

“Is it bad that I’m loving this?”

“SEBA—“

“Cut!”

The third clip was you and Lizzie (Elizabeth Olsen) reacting fan tweets; Lizzie unrolled the piece of paper, her eyes lighting up as she giggled with a little smirk.

“Elizabeth. .” You wearily trailed off, looking at your friend.

“Sorry, sorry. Okay! This tweet says if i could just pretty BEEP please with the juiciest most mouthwatering cherry on top get a not kid friendly scene of Wanda and (Your Character) I could die peacefully, my wish fulfilled. I implore you marvel, listen to your dying fan.”

“That tweet had over fifty thousand likes as well.” A feminine voice added in from behind the camera, laughter in her tone.

You and Lizzie turned to each other at the same time, grinning.

“I mean the fan is dying babe. .”

“Right? We should totally make this happen, like, totally.” She gave you a cheeky once over, eyes appreciating all of you. “Because it was the fans wish, not mine, duh.” Lizzie added.

“Mhm.” You hummed with a smirk.

The fourth clip was a evidently some sort of ‘guess the body part’ game: a photo of what you were pretty sure was your bottom half was the picture currently used for guessing, in the picture you were leaned over in a pair of yoga pants and in your personal opinion, you looked good. Well, your arse looked good (amazing, otherworldly—you humbly added)

Lizzie was the first person to answer, the video showing each persons turn one by one and immediately she said, “that’s my girl. Y/N.” Then giggling she added, “now get my girls booty off the screen, I don’t need you all ogling her. We get enough of that, sometimes causes a strain on us. But we’ve remained strong together.”

Paul Rudd was next and he stared at the picture of you for a few solid seconds, “it’s Y/N.” He sheepishly admitted. He pointed an accusing finger dramatically towards the camera—“I only know this because of all the edits you guys make!”

“You don’t have to watch them.” The interviewer pointed out innocently; Paul pouted, grumbling.

Next was Anthony who instantly answered, “That’s Y/N right here!” He hyped you up, grinning. “Don’t even try and make it creepy, we do glutes together man, it’s why we’re the best asses in the cast. Up top!” Anthony exclaimed, holding his hand up towards the picture as if pretending to high five you or something—the interviewer timidly gave him a high five.

Sebastian was next as you (and everyone) watch his eyes flicker and grin that was more of a smirk spread across his cheeks, “that’s definitely y/n.” He assumed instantly. “Would’ve been able to tell you that blindfolded.”

“But—“

“I’d have just sensed her.” Sebastian giggled.

Chris Evans was next—a grin picked up on his face immediately, eyes trained on the photo of you and he ran a hand over his beard, lightly biting his lip (HEELLLOOO????)

“That’s Y/n.” Chris stated confidently, smirking lightly and the camera caught some of the team in line of sight exchange raised eyebrows.

The fifth clip was of Brie Larson who was being interviewed on some sort of premiere event again—presumably or her (marvellous) movie, Captain Marvel, smiling at the interviewer.

“Out of all of the people on the Marvel Cast, those who you’ve met, do you have a favourite out of them?” The interview questioned.

“I’m not really one for favourites but I would definitely say I’m closest to Y/n! She’s—she’s just so lovely and funny and she’s like a ray of sunshine, honestly. She’s been a great help in the filming process as well, she coached me through everything with so patience—I would’ve strangled me if I was her, but no, she just had that adorable smile on her face. She’s truly an amazing person and a better friend than I thought possible.” Brie answered enthusiastically with a soft smile.

“Awwww! We love to hear that—are any of the rumours about her true?”

Brie blinked, seeming taken aback for a brief moment— “Yes she does smell amazing, she’s always effortlessly beautiful, she’s unfailingly hilarious and yes no one in this world deserves her. But like. . if she’s open to it,” Brie paused, winking at the camera and making a call me sign with her hands and mouthing the words with a flirty grin.

The sixth clip was of you, Tom Holland, RDJ, Paul Bettany, Zoe Saldana and Pom Klementieff on Jimmy Kimmel, tasked with drawing your characters. The clip started just as you turned around the drawing of your character and well, it was actually surprisingly good in your own opinion—the audience immediately erupted into loud and obnoxious cheers.

“As great as that is, love, it still doenst capture the extent of your beauty.” Tom Holland, who was sat to your left, grinned cheekily at you and the audience practically shouted and hooted.

“Would anything ever?” Zoe shot back from your right side, twirling a lock of your hair affectionately and smiling as she leaned against you.

“I sincerely doubt that anything could.” RDJ piped up, giving you an unapologetic grin when you looked over at him with fond exasperation as the crowd was practically inconsolable in their glee and enthusiasm, shouting out your praises. “Give it up for sunshine, people. Our gorgeous ray of sunshine!”

“I—“

“They are quite right, Y/n.” Paul Bettany spoke over Jimmy who was obviously going to try and calm down his crowd.

The seventh clip started playing: it was a clip taken from Jacob Batalon’s story, clearly in a party setting—the video showed you and Zendaya in the centre of the dance floor, everyone around you clearly watching you both as you danced up against each other to the sounds of Yeah! by Usher.

“Mate I think your girls about to be stole.” The voice of Tom’s friend, Harrison, sounded from beside Jacob and presumably Tom himself and to empathise Harrison’s words, Jacob zoomed in on your faces, wide grins of ecstasy, and the way Zendaya was admiring you.

“Right in public as well, the scandal.” Jacob cackled.

The eighth clip was an interview of Chris Evans and McKenna Grace (you adored that little girl to pieces). The two of them were answering the ‘Webs Most Searched Question’s’ together.

“Who was.. Chris Evans, date at the Oscars?”

McKenna immediately ooed, smiling teasingly and Chris laughed from beside her.

“This is getting juicy!”

“Well, it was my mom one year and then my sister last year—“

“He wishes it was Y/n though.” The little girl laughed with a beaming smile on her lips and you, present time, arched a brow.

Chris bashfully chuckled with a smile and you swore you could see a genuine red hue on his cheeks, “I mean—it’s Y/n. Anyone would be happy to go with her.”

“I would be!” McKenna excitedly exclaimed as she grinned so sweetly you were now going to make sure you took this sweet child with you to the Oscar’s, Chris seemed to melt as well, recovering from his brief flustered moment.

The ninth clip was Sebastian and Anthony reading out their thirst tweets in a Buzzfeed interview, the clip started as Sebastian was pulling out a tweet from the large bucket.

He read it to himself and blushed faintly, Anthony’s eyebrows practically reaching his forehead as he tried to lean over and read it but Sebastian jokingly shoved him back.

“Oh for—That scene where (Your Character) chokes baby Bucky out with her thighs, his—his head all up in there; the shit I would give to be her, I would give my soul, my fridge, my moms purse, my dads golf clubs. Please, sir. Put your face between my legs like you did Y/n.”

By the end of the tweet, Sebastian had a deeply awkward and slightly perturbed look on his face and Anthony cackled at his side.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he was more than happy with it being Y/n, wouldn’t change it even for your dads golf clubs.” Anthony laughed.

“That’s. . I’m gonna have to decline that, um, respectfully.” Sebastian spoke in regards to the tweet, ignoring Anthony.

In turn, Anthony ignored Sebastian as well and just dramatically kept winking at the camera.

The tenth clip was Cobie Smulders, who was being interviewed on some sort of carpet event, smile on her face as she spoke to the interviewer before her.

“How does it feel knowing that the lesbian community, myself included, are firmly rooting for your character, Maria and Y/N’s character (Your Character) to end up together?”

Cobie’s smile turned genuinely delighted, “I love it—we love it. Y/n and I actually have made so many PowerPoints and presented them to the Russo brothers, but alas. I do really want to end up with her—oops, sorry, wait. I really want my character to end with hers. . would be the appropriate wording. But I’m all for inappropriate if Y/n wants.”

Cobie jokingly bit her lip at the camera and you, watching the video, could not contain your laughter as the interviewer practically burst out with excitement.

The eleventh clip was a blooper from your filming of the avengers—you were standing next to Chris Hemsworth who had an arm around your waist, holding you to him as in the scene his character, Thor, flies the both of you away. But Chris quickly tugged you in front of him and began tickling you mercilessly, hysterical giggles falling from your lips as the people around you laughed as well.

“Chris, HAVE MERCY!”

“Aw, but I enjoy hearing your laughter. It’s a very pretty sound.” Chris laughed to himself, finally stopping his attack and letting you slump against his, back to his front. “I particularly like this as well.” He smirked down at you.

“CHRI—“

In the twelfth clip, you and Tessa Thompson were reading out thirst tweets together: “The feminine urge to fall asleep cuddled into Y/n’s boobs is too real, pls come here mommy.” You read out, giggling all the while.

“The urge is so strong.” Tess commented, nodding her add as she sneakily glanced at your chest with a innocent smile.

“Come here, baby.” You joked, laughing as you opened your arms for her and she practically leaped into them, resting her head on your chest.

“I’m living the dreams of millions right now and it feels amazing.” Tessa gloated jokingly, pulling away from you with only final squeeze and a little wink the camera caught.

“I concur.” You grinned back.

The thirteenth clip was you and Tom Hiddleston, talking with an interviewer on a carpet event. His arm was around your waist and both of you were wearing smiles greeting the interviewer.

“So, obviously, you both act in marvel movies, but not really close together! If you could, would you want to work more closely and have you characters be more involved?”

“I absolutely would.” Tom immediately replied with an honest, heartwarming smile. “And personally, it’s not even a fact of our characters being intertwined it’s more that working this fantastic woman beside me is a gift I have come to deeply cherish, truly it’s an honour. And I suppose, if our characters were to get involved, so to speak, that I would enjoy that because this is the y/n y/l/n, I’d be a mad man not to want that.” He finished charmingly.

You grinned, taking a bow, and both Tom and the interviewer laughed before that clip cut as well.

The fourteenth clip was at Comic-Con, mostly everyone on the cast had already been called out and taken their seats and then your name was called, the audience erupting into loud cheers.

Sebastian, who was sat next to your assigned seat, hopped and and jogged over to offer you his arm as you grinned and waved at everyone—the crowd screaming louder at his actions.

The screams only increased as Chris Evans and Don Cheadle got up to pull out your chair for you to sit down in—you pretended to swoon into Sebastian before kissing all of their cheeks and taking your seat.

“Where was the treatment for me?” RDJ joked.

“Man, they’re just whipped. But, like, who isn’t for Y/n?” Anthony stage whispered back to him and the crowd literally roared in excitement.

The fifteenth clip was Aaron Taylor-Johnson being interviewed with Lizzie for the Age of Ultron press, most probably.

“So, Aaron, obviously your character—spoilers, sorry—isn’t with us anymore but if you had the chance to explore Pietro more, who would you have wanted to explore a romance with?”

“(Your Character) definitely, Y/N.” Aaron answered with a little sheepish grin at the speed and Lizzie giggled into her palm.

“I’m not making fun, I agree, for myself.” Lizzie commented unprompted.

“Why is that?” The interviewer questioned.

“Why—mate, I think it’s pretty obvious. Y/n is such a stunning person, inside and out, I would have loved to—and obviously her character is extremely sick and I’m certain the relationship between her and Pietro would’ve been the stuff of legends but. . come on, Y/n Y/l/n is my real reason.” Aaron joked.

“Get your own girl, she’s mine.” Lizzie glared.

There were still many minutes left of the video left and that alone astounded you; overcome with cackles, you forwarded the video the your Marvel groupchat—so yall bitches like obsessed with me or sum 🥰🥰🥰

[buckyalpine]

I've always had this acting AU idea where you and Bucky are co-stars in a movie/tv show and your characters are enemies. It makes people feral because you're both so crazy attractive but you just hate each other so much on screen and your story lines have you at each others throats.

Now the part I love with this idea is the press actually thinking you don't get along with him whatsoever and thinking there's drama between the cast because you're never around with them. Whenever they hang out together, literally everyone by you is there. There are so many rumors about how Bucky can't stand working with you and how the cast leaves you out. Natasha even had a thanksgiving dinner recently and the Instagram photo she posted has literally everyone present but you.

Things heat up even more when you barely update your own socials after filming wrapped up. You basically disappeared and it confirms everyone's suspicions. The only time you post here and there is when you're at home alone, doing your own thing. You're never present in any of the interviews. No one ever comments even when they're directly asked about you. There has to be drama.

It's been over a year of near radio silence and people anticipating for the release of this movie.

I love the idea of the movie premier day being full of anticipation and people buzzing over if Bucky would bring a date, if you'd even show up, wondering how you'd interact with everyone else. No one's even seen you but you're one of the main characters so you have to show-

A large black SUV rolls up.

Then Bucky steps out.

Everyone screams. He looks stunning in his all black suit, with his scruffy beard and chestnut locks. Instead of making his way down the red carpet, he stays in place waiting for someone to join him.

Confused murmurs start among the screaming.

And then.

He holds his hand out to help you out.

And everyone goes absolutely wild as you step out, seeing your very round baby bump and that ring on your finger. He makes a show of kissing you deeply before walking you down and of course the cast showers you in love and hugs as if you're all in your own little bubble.

They already knew all long. The secret, low key relationship with you and Bucky. You didn't want people to know because it would bring on so much speculation and scrutiny. When everyone bombards you both with what's going on, Bucky only answers one reporters question with a simple "I'm here with my wife"

Seriously, people can't handle it.

A few days after the reveal, Bucky, you and the rest of the cast including Sam, Steve, Nat and so many others post all the outings they had where you were actually present. The "thanks giving dinner" was actually your baby shower. So many pictures where they're holding your bump with "aunt" and "uncle" sashes tied around them. Pictures from the secret wedding. The honeymoon. The cutest pictures of Bucky cuddled up with you; wholesome intimate moments with you and him. Moments with getting mani pedis with Nat and Wanda.

No on can understand how this was all hidden so well. No one would have guessed.

Weeks later you have your babies and this time everyone posts pictures, all of them surrounding you in the hospital.

Seriously, this reveal breaks the internet in a way you'd never imagine.

[ilovemarvel97]

Written in Our Souls - Part 13

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Wanda’s bond is stronger than ever—but beneath the warmth of their intimacy, unsettling questions arise.

Word Count: 5,272

Warnings: fluff, a little smut, (18+), use of strap (enchanted)

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

---

A few days had passed since the mission, and Y/N had been basking in the kind of peace that only came from being wrapped up in Wanda—physically, emotionally, soul-deep. But even with the warmth of their bond grounding her, something kept tugging at her attention.

Vision.

Despite everything—despite the clarity of the bond between Wanda and her—Vision had been sneaking out of the compound more and more. Quiet departures in the early morning, late returns after sunset. Y/N had caught glimpses of him once or twice, and each time, something about him seemed… different. Off.

She made her way down to Tony’s lab, hoping for insight.

Tony was hunched over a half-built suit and a cup of coffee, talking softly to himself when she walked in.

“Hey,” Y/N greeted, hands in her pockets.

Tony gave her a once-over, not looking away from his project. “Well, well. Look who came up for air.”

Y/N smirked. “Funny. I was actually here to ask about Vision.”

That earned a pause. Tony blinked, then set down his tools with a sigh. “Ah. Him.”

“What’s going on?” Y/N asked. “I’ve seen him leaving. At weird hours. Something’s not right.”

Tony leaned back against the workbench, arms crossing. “You’re not imagining it. FRIDAY flagged a few anomalies in the compound logs—Vision's been leaving without logging his destination, and encrypting his activity. Not that he has to report to me, technically… but it’s weird.”

“Weird how?” Y/N asked, concern creeping into her voice.

Tony shrugged. “He’s precise. Predictable. But lately? He’s being careful. Too careful. Covering his tracks, locking access, even shutting down surveillance feeds in sections of the lab when he’s working.”

Y/N frowned. “Do you know what he’s working on?”

“No clue,” Tony said. “He always closes the screen or cuts the connection when anyone walks in. Happened twice this week.”

Y/N looked down for a moment, processing. “You think it’s about Wanda?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “He hasn’t exactly been subtle about that obsession. But I can’t say for sure. He’s not talking. Just... off.”

Y/N nodded slowly, eyes distant.

Tony’s voice softened slightly. “I’ll keep an eye on it. Let me know if he says anything to you. Or if anything feels… wrong.”

Y/N nodded again. “Thanks, Tony.”

As she turned to leave, Tony added under his breath, “Weird behavior from a synthezoid usually means one of two things—an upgrade… or a problem.”

Y/N didn’t respond.

But the knot in her chest said she already knew which one it was.

---

Tony continue to monitor Vision’s behavior.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., where is Vision off to again?” he asked, sipping his coffee as he watched the surveillance feed.

“He has exited the compound through the east corridor,” the AI replied smoothly. “No scheduled mission or clearance filed.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at the screen as Vision walked with purpose across the perimeter and into the tree line, the same path he’d taken three times this week alone. Always around the same time. Always when no one was watching.

Or so he thought.

“Freakin’ sneaky toaster…” Tony muttered. “What the hell are you up to?”

He tapped a few keys, pulling up heat signatures and satellite imaging, watching Vision disappear into the woods again. No obvious rendezvous, no vehicles. Just… him, alone, disappearing deeper into some isolated location.

Tony leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “This is getting weirder by the day.”

With a sigh, he stood up and grabbed his tablet.

---

A Month Later

Gunfire echoed through the dim corridors of the Hydra base, lights flickering as red emergency alarms pulsed across the walls. The air reeked of gunpowder and scorched metal.

Y/N was a blur of motion.

She zipped between agents, disarming them before they could aim, dropping weapons to the floor with clatters that barely registered before she was already gone again. A round of bullets followed her—too slow. They hit empty wall as she reappeared behind the shooter and knocked him out cold with a swift elbow to the temple.

“Got eyes on the main server room,” Nat’s voice crackled over comms. “Cover me while I pull the drive.”

“Copy,” Y/N replied, turning toward the hallway where Nat had vanished.

More Hydra agents spilled into the corridor ahead, barking orders in German. Y/N dashed forward, skidding between them, her momentum sending two crashing into the wall as she swept their legs from under them. She ducked a stun baton, twisted, and delivered a lightning-quick jab to the agent’s solar plexus. He collapsed with a grunt.

“Wanda?” she called into the comms. “You good?”

“I’m surrounded,” Wanda’s voice came through, tight with strain. “Third corridor near the east wing—need backup now.”

Y/N's head snapped in that direction. "On my way, babe."

She shot forward in a blink, wind snapping around her as she dashed through the maze of halls. Along the way, she shoulder-checked a Hydra operative into a wall and vaulted over another, disarming him mid-air.

Sparks flew as she skidded to a stop near Wanda, who was holding her own—red magic lashing outward in brilliant waves. But more agents were closing in fast.

Y/N didn’t waste a second. “Heads down!” she shouted.

In a flurry of movement, she zoomed through the group, disarming, disabling, and knocking them flat in a matter of seconds. The last agent tried to run—Y/N appeared in front of him and sent him flying with a roundhouse kick before he could blink.

Wanda lowered her hands, panting, her red eyes glowing faintly.

Y/N grinned. “Miss me?”

Wanda smirked, stepping toward her. “Always.”

Behind them, another explosion shook the far wall. Nat’s voice came through again: “Got the data. Meet you at extraction in two.”

Y/N gave Wanda a quick wink before grabbing her hand. “C’mon, let’s finish this.”

---

The low hum of the Quinjet filled the cabin as they lifted off from the Hydra base, the engines steady beneath them. Y/N sat with her back against the cool metal wall, catching her breath, her suit smeared with soot and a cut above her eyebrow already beginning to close. Across from her, Wanda was watching her, arms crossed, eyes soft.

Nat was at the console, already decrypting the stolen files, while Clint piloted up front, focused but relaxed now that they were airborne.

“That was clean,” Clint called over his shoulder. “Almost too clean.”

“Speak for yourself,” Y/N muttered, wiping her forehead. “I think I ran enough to power this jet twice.”

Wanda chuckled softly and moved closer, settling beside Y/N. Her fingers gently found Y/N’s wrist and traced over her name, a quiet, grounding touch. “You didn’t hesitate when I called,” she said, voice low.

Y/N turned her head and smiled at her. “I’ll never hesitate for you.”

Nat looked up from the console with an amused eyebrow. “God, you two are worse than Barton and Laura.”

“I’m right here,” Clint said, though he didn’t sound annoyed. If anything, he was smiling.

Then, after a moment, he added, “Hey—before I forget. This weekend, it’s Nathaniel’s birthday. Laura already invited Nat, but I wanted to ask you two as well.”

Y/N blinked, surprised. “Oh—really? You sure we wouldn’t be, you know… distracting?”

Clint chuckled. “Nah, Laura loves you both. And the kids are already obsessed with Wanda’s magic tricks and Y/N’s speed. You’re practically party entertainment at this point.”

Wanda grinned. “I’d love to come. It sounds wonderful.”

Y/N nodded. “Count us in. Wouldn’t miss it.”

Wanda leaned her head on Y/N’s shoulder, and Y/N instinctively pulled her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her hair.

“So,” Nat said, tone suddenly sly, “how long until we have to start making excuses to give you two alone time again?”

“Don’t start,” Y/N groaned. “We’re just… making up for lost time.”

Clint laughed. “That what the kids are calling it now?”

Nat smirked but said nothing more, returning her attention to decrypting.

Y/N glanced down at her wrist as Wanda’s touch lingered there. The mark hummed faintly, alive with warmth and peace. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes for a moment, just soaking in the closeness.

Even with the low buzz of tech and the hum of the Quinjet, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence, everything finally felt… right.

Home wasn’t a place anymore. It was a heartbeat against hers.

---

Back in the Compound

****

A few hours later, their room was dimly lit by the golden hue of late afternoon sunlight seeping through the curtains. The air was heavy with warmth and intimacy, filled with soft gasps and the creak of the mattress.

Wanda was straddling Y/N, her palms pressed against Y/N’s stomach for balance. Her movements were slow, intense, each roll of her hips deliberate, driven by the quiet desperation in their bond. The enchanted strap they’d come to cherish pulsed with magic and connection, bridging the space between their bodies in a way that felt impossibly real.

Y/N’s hands held her waist firmly, guiding her but letting her lead. Her eyes never left Wanda’s face—flushed, lips parted, brows furrowed in pleasure. She looked like a dream. No, more than that—like something sacred.

“Wanda…” Y/N whispered, voice rough with emotion, not just desire.

Wanda leaned down slightly, one hand sliding up to Y/N’s chest for support, their foreheads nearly touching. “I feel everything,” she murmured, breath hitching. “Every inch of you… it’s overwhelming.”

Y/N cupped her face, pulling her in for a kiss as their rhythm deepened. Magic sparkled faintly around them, soft red wisps dancing at the edge of their joined bodies—resonating with every thrust, every gasp, every heartbeat they shared.

They weren’t just touching—they were fused in soul, in love, in something far greater than either of them could put into words.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Wanda’s movements grew faster, more desperate, her fingers digging lightly into Y/N’s stomach as she rode out the rising wave inside her. The bond between them crackled like a live current—magic and love entwined, tangible in every breath, every shared heartbeat.

Their moans filled the room, raw and unfiltered. Y/N’s grip on Wanda’s waist tightened as she thrust up to meet each movement, breath ragged, lips parted.

“Wanda—” she groaned, voice trembling with the effort to hold back.

Wanda leaned forward, one hand cradling Y/N’s face as her forehead rested against hers. “Detka…I’m so close” she whimpers, eyes locked on hers. “Come with me.”

As Wanda cried out, her body trembling through the high, the sensation and their bond sent Y/N over the edge with her. A low moan tore from her throat as she released, the enchanted toy responding with a soft pulse, responding to Y/N climax. Wanda gasped again as she felt it—warmth filling her, real and undeniable—and her lips found Y/N’s in a kiss that was everything: hungry, tender, grateful.

Their bodies stilled, but their connection pulsed stronger than ever. Wanda stayed close, resting her forehead against Y/N’s, both of them breathing hard, tangled together in the soft afterglow.

****

“I’ll never get over this,” Wanda murmured.

Y/N smiled, brushing back a strand of hair from Wanda’s face. “Good. Because I’m never letting you go.”

Wanda lay on top of her, chest rising and falling against Y/N’s, still intimately connected. Her cheek rested against Y/N’s shoulder, the warmth between them steady and comforting. The room was quiet now, save for their slowing breaths and the occasional hum of their bond, soft and pulsing like a second heartbeat.

Y/N lazily trailed her fingers up and down Wanda’s spine. “You know, we really need to stop breaking the bedframes,” she said with a sleepy grin.

Wanda chuckled, her lips brushing against Y/N’s skin. “Maybe you should stop making me lose control, then.”

Y/N smirked. “That would mean denying you. And I’m just not that strong.”

Wanda hummed in satisfaction, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. “I like when you’re weak for me.”

“You’re dangerous when you know your power,” Y/N teased.

There was a quiet pause, filled only by the shared rhythm of their breath, before Wanda murmured, “What do you think Clint’s kid wants for their birthday?”

Y/N laughed, the sound low and full of affection. “You just rode me like a woman possessed and now we’re talking about birthday gifts?”

“I’m a multitasker,” Wanda replied smugly. “Also, I want them to like me.”

“They already do. You helped Lila with her math homework, remember? You’re basically her favorite Avenger now.”

Wanda smiled against her skin. “You think so?”

Y/N wrapped her arms around her, holding her tighter. “I know so!”

They lay there like that a little longer, basking in the quiet afterglow, their hearts calm, their souls at peace. Wanda was mid-sentence about birthday gifts when Y/N suddenly shifted, flipping them both over in one fluid motion.

Wanda let out a surprised laugh that turned into a soft gasp as Y/N settled between her thighs, still inside her, deeper now.

“My turn,” Y/N growled playfully, her eyes dark with renewed desire.

Wanda’s breath hitched, her legs instinctively wrapping around Y/N’s waist as a fresh wave of anticipation rushed through her. “Then take it,” she whispered, voice trembling with need.

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. She rolled her hips forward, slow at first, drawing a moan from both of them, and then again—deeper, firmer. The room once more filled with the sounds of their love, their bond sparking like wildfire between every breath, every kiss, every movement.

And just like that, round two began—hungry, heated, and absolutely theirs.

---

The city buzzed around them with late afternoon life—horns honking, people laughing, the faint smell of roasted nuts from a nearby cart. Wanda’s fingers were laced with Y/N’s as they walked hand in hand down the sidewalk, both of them in sunglasses and low-key clothes. Still, they had a glow that made people look twice—two women in love, completely immersed in each other.

“Okay,” Wanda said, glancing at the small list she had open on her phone. “Clint said Nathaniel’s been obsessed with dinosaurs lately.”

“Dinosaurs?” Y/N grinned. “Then we’re getting the biggest, loudest, most annoying toy we can find. If it roars, stomps, and maybe breathes fake fire—perfect.”

Wanda laughed, leaning into her. “You really want to get uninvited next year?”

“Absolutely not. I just want Clint to suffer a little. He did make me babysit the gremlins during that mission debrief last month.”

They ducked into a bright toy store a moment later, the kind with spinning mobiles, bright shelves, and too much cheerful music playing in the background. Y/N made a beeline for a massive animatronic T-Rex while Wanda wandered through the science kits and puzzles, already thinking of what Laura might appreciate too.

Eventually, they met in the middle—Y/N triumphantly holding the roaring T-Rex box, and Wanda with a neatly wrapped educational kit about fossils.

“We get him both?” Y/N asked, already knowing the answer.

Wanda nodded with a smirk. “Chaos and balance. Very us.”

As they stepped back outside, bags in hand and the sun beginning to dip lower in the sky, Y/N pulled Wanda into her side and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“This is nice,” Y/N said softly.

Wanda tilted her head up and kissed her. “It is.”

They didn’t rush home. They strolled, stealing kisses at red lights, sharing a street pretzel, and laughing like no one was watching—just a couple in love, picking out dinosaur toys for a kid’s birthday and living a piece of the normal life they'd fought hard for.

---

The Birthday Weekend

The Barton farm was alive with energy—kids darting across the yard with superhero masks and foam swords, music drifting from the porch speakers, and the scent of grilled food in the air. A bright dinosaur-shaped bounce house roared intermittently, thanks to a little button Nathaniel couldn’t stop pressing.

“Why does that thing growl every five seconds?” Laura asked with a chuckle, joining Wanda and Nat under the shade of the big oak tree with drinks in hand.

“Because Y/N showed Nate how to do it,” Nat replied dryly, sipping from her cup. “She’s enabling him. Chaos recognizing chaos.”

Wanda laughed softly, but her attention remained fixed on Y/N. Across the yard, Y/N was dramatically pretending to be a captured villain, wrapped in streamers as Nathaniel and Cooper shouted about locking her up. She stumbled back with exaggerated groans, fell onto the grass with flair, and made the kids burst into delighted laughter.

“She’s good with them,” Laura said, watching the scene unfold with a fond smile.

“She is,” Wanda agreed, her voice quiet, full of something deeper. Her gaze never wavered from Y/N, who now had Nathaniel perched on her back like a tiny superhero riding into battle.

Laura noticed the way Wanda’s fingers brushed absently over the inside of her wrist, where Y/N’s name was marked—her soulmate. Y/N immediately raise her head with a smile she only gives to Wanda, feeling her own wrist tingle. And Wanda just smiles back.

“You two talk about the future yet? Marriage, kids?” Laura ask seeing their interaction.

Wanda flushed slightly but nodded. “We’ve started. Not everything, not yet. But we know what we want. And we want it with each other.”

“That’s the bond,” Laura said knowingly, lifting her own wrist and brushing her fingers over Clint’s name. “When it’s real, when it’s right, you don’t need everything figured out. You just know.”

Wanda glanced at her with a soft smile, then at Nat, who remained suspiciously quiet.

“She’s already yours,” Nat said teasingly, nudging her shoulder. “Even if you weren’t soulmates, the way she looks at you would give it away.”

Wanda’s gaze drifted back to Y/N just as she scooped Nathaniel up and spun him in a wide circle. The boy shrieked with glee, arms outstretched, completely trusting her. Wanda’s heart clenched, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded into the background. All she could see was Y/N—laughing, loving, alive.

“Being with her feels like breathing,” Wanda murmured. “Like I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until we found each other.”

Laura smiled warmly. “That’s how I felt with Clint. It’s soul-deep. Hard to explain, but impossible to ignore.”

“And now,” Nat added, “you two are in the honeymoon stage. Might be stuck in it for a while.”

“Forever sounds fine with me,” Wanda said without hesitation, a dreamy smile playing at her lips.

And as they stood together, watching Y/N collapse onto the grass with Nathaniel giggling in her lap, Wanda knew—with her whole heart and soul—that this was only the beginning of the future they would build. Together.

---

The Barton farmhouse quieted as the evening rolled in, soft laughter still echoing from the kitchen where Clint and Laura were cleaning up. The kids had finally crashed after hours of games, cake, and chaos. Nat had taken one of the smaller rooms, grateful for the quiet. Wanda and Y/N were shown to the guest room upstairs—cozy, with a big window overlooking the back pasture, and a bed that was just the right amount of creaky.

Wanda entered first, kicking off her shoes, her body still buzzing from the joy of the day. Y/N closed the door behind them, flipping the small lamp on. The warm yellow light painted the room in soft golds and browns.

“They really wore Nathaniel out,” Wanda said, pulling her hair out of its ponytail and letting it fall around her shoulders.

“They wore me out,” Y/N said with a playful groan as she stretched, cracking her back. “I think I pulled something when I was pretending to be a villain in the treehouse battle.”

Wanda turned, smiling. “You looked like you were having the time of your life.”

“I was. With you watching? Always.”

Y/N crossed the room, her arms circling Wanda’s waist, and she buried her face in the crook of her neck. Wanda wrapped her arms around her, holding her close, grounding herself in the warmth and scent of her soulmate.

“Today was perfect,” Wanda whispered. “I could do this with you forever.”

Y/N leaned back slightly to look into her eyes. “Then let’s.”

They shared a soft kiss—no rush, no fire, just intimacy and affection and the quiet promise of forever. When they broke apart, Y/N pulled her shirt over her head, and Wanda followed suit, both settling into bed under the thick quilt.

Wanda curled into Y/N’s side, fingers tracing over her chest, then down to her wrist, where her name was etched in elegant script. “It still feels like a dream,” she murmured. “That you’re mine.”

Y/N kissed her temple. “And you’re mine. For good.”

They lay in silence for a moment, listening to the distant hum of the house, the sound of crickets outside. Wanda sighed in contentment and nuzzled in closer.

“Let’s have this one day,” she said, eyes fluttering shut. “And all the days after.”

Y/N smiled, pulling her in tighter. “You got it, baby. Every one of them.”

And wrapped in each other’s arms, they drifted off—soulmates safe, together, and finally at peace.

---

The days rolled by in a quiet rhythm of love, missions, laughter, and stolen moments. Somewhere between early morning coffee kisses and late-night whispers under shared blankets, time slipped past like sand between fingers, and when they realize it was already six months since Wanda stopped rejecting.

“Six months,” she murmured aloud, her fingers brushing over the date circled in red. The day they finally stopped denying the bond. The day she chose Y/N fully, without fear or guilt.

She found Y/N in the training room, sweat glistening on her brow, cheeks flushed from sparring. Wanda just stood in the doorway for a second, watching her—her soulmate. Her partner in everything. The woman who had taught her that love didn’t have to hurt.

When Y/N caught her staring, she grinned. “Hey, babe. You okay?”

Wanda walked over, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist from behind and resting her cheek between her shoulder blades.

“Did you know it’s been almost six months?” she whispered.

Y/N paused, her hands settling on Wanda’s. “Really?” She turned around, smiling softly. “Feels like yesterday. Feels like forever.”

Wanda leaned up to kiss her. “It’s everything.”

They sat down on the edge of the mat, Y/N pulling Wanda into her lap as she ran her fingers through her hair. “We’ve been through a lot in less than a year,” she said quietly. “But I wouldn’t trade a second of it.”

“Even the messy ones?” Wanda teased, resting her forehead against Y/N’s.

“Especially the messy ones. That’s how I knew it was real.”

Wanda kissed her again—slow, reverent, full of everything words couldn’t say.

Y/N deepen the kiss making Wanda moan slightly into her mouth. And when they break the kiss Y/N murmur “Do you wanna go eat somewhere with me tonight?”

Wanda smiled against Y/N’s lips, her fingers still tangled in the hem of her shirt. “Hmm… is this a date?”

Y/N grinned, her nose brushing Wanda’s. “Of course it’s a date. You think I’d let six months go by without taking my girl out to celebrate properly?”

Wanda’s eyes lit up, the way they always did when Y/N called her that—my girl. She bit her bottom lip, nodding.

“I’d love that.”

Y/N leaned back just enough to catch her breath, her heart still pounding from the kiss—and the look Wanda gave her. “Alright, then. You shower, I’ll shower, and let’s get dressed up. Somewhere nice.”

Wanda raised a brow, teasing, “Nice as in candlelight and violins? Or nice as in greasy fries and milkshakes?”

Y/N pretended to think it over. “Hmm… maybe both. Fries first, violins after.”

Wanda laughed softly, the sound warming the air between them. “That’s why I love you.”

Y/N blinked, heart skipping a beat. Wanda had said it so casually, so confidently—but it landed like thunder in her chest. She smiled.

“Good,” she whispered, brushing a soft kiss to Wanda’s cheek. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m crazy about you.”

“Pretty sure?”

“Hopelessly.”

They kissed once more—gentle and full of promise—before Y/N stood and offered her hand.

“Come on, Maximoff. Let’s celebrate almost-six-months with something that isn’t leftover pizza.”

Wanda took her hand, rising to her feet. “Only if you let me wear the red dress you like.”

Y/N smirked. “Deal. But fair warning, I might not make it through dinner if you do.”

Wanda leaned in with a sly look. “Then we’ll just have dessert at home.”

---

The night started perfectly.

Wanda looked stunning in the red dress Y/N loved—elegant, effortless, and entirely captivating. Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off her, and Wanda couldn’t stop smiling at the way her soulmate kept sneaking glances like she was seeing her for the first time all over again.

They were seated at a cozy corner table, low candlelight flickering between them, the clinking of glasses and quiet hum of conversation creating an intimate backdrop. They held hands over the table, sipped wine, laughed at old mission stories, and toasted to ten months of love, chaos, and finding peace in each other.

But as the food arrived—plated beautifully, rich in aroma—Wanda’s expression changed.

Her smile faltered.

She blinked a few times, then pressed a hand lightly to her stomach. “Sorry, I—I don’t know what’s wrong. I suddenly feel…”

Her voice trailed off. She clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide with panic.

“Wanda?” Y/N asked, concerned, already rising from her seat.

Wanda didn’t answer. She bolted from the table, heels clicking in a rush across the floor, and disappeared into the women’s restroom.

Y/N followed without hesitation, ignoring the startled looks from a couple of nearby diners. When she pushed through the restroom door, she found Wanda in the far stall, retching violently.

Y/N’s heart sank. She closed the stall door behind her and crouched beside her, holding her hair back and rubbing gentle circles on her back. “I’m here, baby. Just breathe. It’s okay.”

Wanda didn’t speak for a while, just coughed and heaved until her stomach was empty. When it was finally over, she sagged against the stall wall, panting and pale.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, eyes fluttering shut. “I don’t know what happened. The smell hit me and then—just everything turned.”

“Shh, don’t apologize,” Y/N said, brushing strands of hair from her forehead. “You’re okay. We’ll get you home.”

Wanda nodded weakly, allowing Y/N to help her to her feet. She rinsed her mouth and splashed cold water on her face at the sink, still visibly shaken but grateful.

“I ruined our night,” she muttered, still not quite meeting Y/N’s eyes.

Y/N turned her gently by the shoulders and looked at her. “You didn’t ruin anything. You scared me, sure. But we’ll try dinner again some other time. Right now, I just want to get you somewhere comfy.”

Wanda managed a small smile as Y/N kissed her temple and wrapped an arm around her. She leaned into the touch, letting the familiar warmth of her soulmate steady the trembling in her limbs.

They exited the restaurant quietly, with Y/N flagging down a car rather than using her speed—Wanda looked too shaken to be swept off her feet like usual. The ride back to the compound was silent, but not uncomfortable. Wanda rested her head on Y/N’s shoulder, eyes closed, breathing slow. Y/N held her hand the whole way.

Once inside their room, Y/N helped her out of her dress, letting her change into one of her oversized T-shirts and a pair of soft shorts. Wanda moved slowly, still a little off balance, and Y/N noticed—really noticed—how pale she looked under the warm lighting.

“You want some water? Or tea?” Y/N offered, brushing Wanda’s hair back.

Wanda shook her head. “Just… lie with me?”

Y/N didn’t need to be asked twice. She climbed into bed and opened her arms, and Wanda curled into her side without hesitation. The bond between them pulsed softly, a gentle hum that grounded them both.

Y/N held her close, the steady beat of Wanda’s heart under her palm both a relief and a concern. She pressed a soft kiss to Wanda’s forehead and whispered, “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve never gotten sick like that before. Maybe it’s a bug? Or something you ate?”

Wanda didn’t answer right away. Her fingers toyed with the hem of Y/N’s shirt, a nervous habit, and her eyes stayed trained on some distant point on the ceiling. Finally, after a beat of silence, she said softly, “I’m fine.”

Y/N frowned, gently tilting Wanda’s chin so their eyes met. “Wands. That wasn’t nothing. You nearly collapsed in the restaurant.”

“I know,” Wanda said, voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I didn’t want to ruin tonight.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Y/N said firmly. “But you’re scaring me, baby. Talk to me. If something’s wrong, I need to know.”

Wanda’s throat worked as she swallowed, and for a moment, it looked like she might say something more. But instead, she shook her head and snuggled in closer, burying her face in Y/N’s neck.

“I promise I’m okay,” she murmured. “I just needed to be with you. That’s all.”

Y/N didn’t push, not yet. She tightened her arms around her and let out a slow breath, choosing trust over worry—at least for now. But her mind wouldn’t stop spinning. Wanda was rarely this quiet when something was off. And that look in her eyes earlier—that wasn’t just discomfort.

It was fear.

Still, Wanda was resting now. Her breathing had slowed, evening out against Y/N’s chest. Y/N stroked her back in soft, repetitive motions, whispering small reassurances even as her gut twisted with unease.

She was lying. Not about being fine, but about something.

She just didn’t know what yet.

And that scared her more than anything.

Y/N held Wanda a little tighter, her hand resting gently on the back of her head. The rhythm of her fingers slowed against Wanda’s hair as a quiet thought surfaced—last time she got sick like this...

Her mind flicked back to a memory she’d tried not to dwell on too much. It had been months ago, back when everything was still tense and raw. Back when Wanda was still living in the other room. Back when she was still engaged to Vision, when he tried to be intimate with her…

Y/N sighed, her breath slow and heavy, and looked down at the love of her life resting in her arms. Wanda’s brow was still faintly creased in discomfort, lips parted as she breathed softly through her mouth, eyes shut but restless. She looked so vulnerable. So human.

Y/N wanted to ask. Wanted to say “Are you feeling like that again? Did something bring it back? Did Vision try to do something?”

But she didn’t.

Not tonight.

She brushed a kiss to Wanda’s forehead and whispered into her hair, “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about anything. Just rest, baby.”

Wanda let out a barely-there hum, nuzzling into her chest. But Y/N felt the tension still lingering in her spine, like her body hadn’t fully let go yet.

She rubbed soft circles into Wanda’s back and closed her eyes, trying to ground herself in the feel of Wanda in her arms. The bond between them was steady but quiet, like it too was waiting—watching—holding its breath.

Y/N swallowed the unease rising in her throat and tucked it deep down.

Let it pass, she told herself. Let her breathe. Let her feel safe.

Tomorrow, if Wanda was ready, they’d talk. But tonight… Y/N would simply hold her through the storm.

---

Let me know your thoughts in the comment!

[byhuenii]

Cake by the Ocean

Pairing Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Synopsis a chaotic beach day turns into a bonfire full of bad karaoke, worse dancing, and you & bucky being dangerously cute. pure unhinged fun.

Word count 8.1k

Tags + Warnings f!reader, alcohol mention / drinking, mild language, reader is a little tipsy, flirty banter galore, so much chaotic energy, mentions of being tied up (in a funny way, not serious!), cringe but make it wholesome, lowkey emotional whiplash via Bucky’s soft side, drunk Tony Stark deserves his own warning tbh, off-screen violence mention, mock-violence / fake threats, light suggestiveness, mention of fresh 2022.

— Cake by the Ocean beach day with the avengers: 0% normal, 100% chaos.

The Avengers at the beach was either a masterstroke of genius… or a catastrophic miscalculation.

The sun was high, the breeze was warm, and the sand was hot enough to burn the soles off Thor’s flip-flops (which were, in fact, just two cut-up Mjölnirs Steve duct-taped together as a “punishment” for skipping beach duty sign-up). Everyone was in vacation mode—half of them should’ve been monitored, the other half were monitoring but gave up after Wanda spiked her floatie drink and levitated herself into a nap.

You were laid out on a pastel towel that had glittery pineapples printed on it, shades perched on your nose, tanning oil glistening on your skin. Beside you were Natasha, Wanda, and Kate sprawled in various degrees of sun-dazed glam, bikinis matching their sass levels. Music thumped from Tony's giant Bluetooth speaker setup, which was definitely not waterproof but “definitely is Iron Man approved,” as he declared while sipping what was definitely not a kid-friendly drink from a pineapple.

"[Name]’ Natasha said lazily, flipping a page in her fashion magazine, “your man’s about to launch Peter into the stratosphere.”

You lifted your sunglasses and peered out over the sand, and hoo boy—

Bucky Barnes was a sight. Saltwater in his hair, sand clinging to his back, sun glinting off that metal arm, and board shorts riding just low enough to make your heart consider doing cartwheels.

Peter was slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, flailing. "Bucky, Bucky—no! I just ate! This is child endangerment—" "You think I care, Spider-Boy?!" Bucky barked in mock rage. “You touched my cold brew, you little menace!”

With a war cry that would’ve made Thor proud, Bucky ran full speed into the ocean and launched Peter into the water with zero hesitation.

You were full-on cackling as Kate snapped a shot with her vintage digital camera. “That one’s for the ‘Blackmail 2025’ folder.”

Wanda smirked. “I thought this was supposed to be beach therapy. This is glorious.

“I feel healed,” you added, reaching for your iced drink.

Meanwhile, under a leopard-print umbrella (Nat’s, obviously), the girl gang was in full gossip mode.

Kate, sporting sunglasses bigger than her head, was flicking through her digital camera, making running commentary.

“Okay, okay—this one of [Name] mid-scream while Bucky sprints toward the ocean? Art. I might make it your lock screen.”

“Send it to me,” Wanda said instantly. “Also, [Name]. Spill. That man feeds you strawberries, kisses you like he’s in a period drama, and looks like he could bench-press the jet. Are you okay? Emotionally? Hydrated?”

You laughed, hiding your face in your hands. “I don’t know what to do with him! He’s like… annoyingly romantic without trying.”

Nat nodded knowingly. “That’s how you know it’s real. Bucky doesn’t do things unless they mean something.”

Kate gasped. “He gave you his last bite of his breakfast this morning. I saw it. That was a symbolic gesture.”

“He literally carried me into the ocean as soon as we got here.”

“Symbolic and dramatic,” Wanda agreed. “Perfect match.”

Then—Steve walked by.

Soaked, abs shining like the sun itself, golden light haloing around him as if he were the lost Hemsworth brother.

He tipped his head toward your circle with a gentlemanly nod, lips quirking.

“Ladies.”

Every one of you blinked.

“...Did he just—” Kate began.

“—walk by like the cover of a firefighter calendar?” Wanda finished.

“Why was that so smooth?” you whispered.

Nat didn’t even look up. “It’s the serum. It gives them swagger.”

—

You were lying on your towel, sprawled like a lizard soaking up the heat, when a shadow fell over you.

“Flip,” Bucky said, a little gruff.

You raised your brows. “Excuse me?”

He held up a bottle of sunscreen with a single shrug, then crouched down beside you. “Gotta keep that pretty skin safe.”

You smirked but rolled over, propping your head on your arms.

And then—

Oh.

Slow hands. Gentle pressure. He started at your shoulders, thumbs working in careful circles, rubbing the sunscreen in like you were fragile or sacred or his. His touch dragged down your spine with a patience that made your breath catch. His metal hand stayed steady, cool, while the other lingered a bit too long at the dip of your lower back.

You shifted slightly, biting your lip.

“Concentrating,” he muttered, voice rough. “Don’t move. Can’t miss a spot.”

“Sure,” you whispered, heart pounding.

And then—smack.

A quick little ass tap, shameless.

“Bucky!” you gasped.

He just smiled, leaned down next to your ear, and said, “I’m making sure everything’s covered, doll.”

—

It started as a joke—you sitting behind Bucky, legs on either side of his hips, twisting a small section of his hair while he helped Peter fix a busted floatie.

“Stop moving,” you said, tongue between your teeth as you focused.

“I don’t even know what you’re doing,” he grumbled.

“You’re getting a braid, soldier. Suck it up.”

Peter giggled. “You’re gonna be so cute.”

Bucky: “I will put you in the sand.”

But he let you finish. You tied it off with a tiny elastic Kate had in her bag.

Later, when Sam noticed, he snorted. “Barnes, you got a lil’ friendship braid.”

Bucky immediately went, “She attacked me. I didn’t know.”

“You let her,” Nat called from behind her sunglasses.

He huffed—but didn’t take it out.

Not for the rest of the day.

Not even during volleyball.

And when you kissed it later, gently, he muttered, “Might need another tomorrow.”

—

The sun was high, the waves lapping lazily, and suddenly—because Tony Stark doesn’t do casual—a giant, inflatable obstacle course had magically appeared on the shore. Bright colors, ridiculous twists and slides, even a little slip-and-slide that looked like it belonged on a water park commercial.

“Why?” you asked Tony, raising an eyebrow as he strode past with a grin.

“Because beach day is a competition,” he declared. “And I win.”

Peter’s eyes lit up instantly. “Challenge accepted!”

You glanced at Bucky, who gave you a slow smile, fingers tightening around your hand.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Always.”

Peter took off like a rocket, determined to destroy the course. But two minutes in, he hit a slippery patch, flailed wildly, and wiped out spectacularly—face first into the water.

“PETER!” Tony shouted from the juice bar. “Keep it together, kid!”

Bucky grinned, helping you start the course. He was steady and sure, careful as he guided you over the wobbly parts, his hands warm and firm on your waist.

Midway through, he suddenly stopped near the edge, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Hold on,” he said, and before you could protest, he pulled you toward the water, plunging you both in with a splash that soaked you from head to toe.

You sputtered, laughing as he leaned down and kissed you—wet hair, salty skin, and all.

“Worth it,” he murmured against your lips.

Meanwhile, on the sand, Wanda was conjuring floating glowing orbs—soft, warm spheres of light that bobbed gently above the ground.

“Try to juggle them,” she challenged, tossing one to Nat, then one to Clint, then another to Sam.

What started as a graceful display quickly turned chaotic as the orbs floated unpredictably, bobbing out of reach or colliding midair.

Clint tried to catch two at once and ended up tumbling backward, knocking over Sam who shrieked louder than Peter ever had.

Wanda just smiled mischievously. “Maybe next time, fewer orbs.”

Suddenly, a piercing shriek echoed from the other side of the beach.

“A CRAB!” Sam shouted, scrambling backwards.

Turns out a crab had found its way into someone’s beach bag, its claws clicking menacingly.

Clint, ever the animal whisperer, immediately got down on the sand and tried to coax the crab like it was a tiny puppy.

Bucky’s expression hardened, and he moved quickly to pull you behind him.

“Nope. Not today,” he said, eyes sharp as the crab advanced.

You laughed, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling safe and amused as Clint debated naming the crab “Sir Pinchy.”

—

Later, Tony was parked under the umbrella like a beachside DJ, spinning between '80s rock, summer pop, and aggressively inappropriate Pitbull songs. Kate was passing out juice boxes to Peter and the younger crew like a chaotic lifeguard mom. Clint was inexplicably playing volleyball while blindfolded. ("Training.")

"Alright, nerds!" Sam shouted, bouncing the volleyball in his hands. "Court's open! Battle of the century. Let’s go!"

Teams were chosen with chaotic precision:

—You and Nat: Code Red Dream Team.

—Steve and Clint: Super Soldiers and… Steve’s emotional support Hawkeye?

—Peter and Tony: The Smartasses.

—Sam and Bucky: The Trash-Talk Titans.

Kate and Wanda stood at either end with whistles, caps, and printed referee cards. (Where did they get those? You didn’t know. You didn’t ask.)

Kate had on her biggest bucket hat, clipboard in hand like an Olympic coach. Wanda stood beside her, arms crossed, eyes glowing red for “ref dramatics.”

Kate blew a whistle she definitely stole from a lifeguard stand. “Game one! First serve—[Name] and Nat. Try not to get sand in your egos!”

You stepped up, squinting in the sun. Nat stretched beside you, looking entirely unbothered.

“This is for our honor,” you whispered.

“And our thighs,” Nat replied. “We’re going to look amazing spiking this ball.”

You served. Clean. Perfect. The ball zipped straight into Tony’s chest.

“Ow! Ow, okay, someone deflate her,” he wheezed.

“I like her inflated,” Bucky muttered from across the court.

“EXCUSE ME?” Sam hollered, eyes wide.

Wanda didn’t even blink. “Penalty for being horny during the serve.”

Bucky: “What?! That’s not—”

Kate blew the whistle again. “Shut up and rotate!”

Cue a montage of mayhem:

—Clint accidentally spikes the ball into Steve’s face and yells “friendly fire!”

—Tony tries to use repulsors to hover for a save. Wanda floats him two feet backward out of bounds. “No tech, Stark.”

—Peter dives for every ball like it’s the end of the world and somehow takes out three umbrellas and a cooler.

—Nat is scarily good and no one’s shocked.

—You score a point on Sam with a fake-out set and Bucky whoops so loud you nearly trip over yourself laughing.

“You’re going down, Barnes,” you called, flipping your ponytail as you took your position.

Bucky winked from across the net, already spinning the ball in his hand. “Oh, sweetheart. You’re not ready for this heat.”

The match that followed could only be described as Olympic-level drama.

Steve dove for a save that turned into a sand-eating faceplant. Peter accidentally webbed the ball into the snack table. Tony screamed “I AM IRON SPIKE” and hit the ball into low Earth orbit. Sam and Bucky somehow did a coordinated dive that was both completely unnecessary and utterly majestic.

Wanda kept giving out yellow cards. Kate took it so seriously she was threatening to call Fury mid-match.

You? You spiked that ball so hard on Clint he tripped into a cooler.

“You’ve got arms of mass destruction!” he yelled from the ground.

Then, the moment of cinematic chaos:

You’re off court, catching your breath, and Bucky’s mid-play. He’s shirtless (rude), sweaty (ruder), and concentrating so hard he doesn't notice he's being watched. But then he hears it—your voice.

“Let’s go, Barnes!” you shout from the sidelines, cupping your hands around your mouth. “Use those arms!”

He glances back mid-run, smirking—

And immediately eats it face-first into the sand because Sam passed the ball without warning.

Tony shrieks. Peter yells “man down!” and Clint wheezes from laughter.

From the sand, Bucky groans, turning over slowly. “You did that on purpose.”

You jog over, hovering above him with your hands on your hips, trying not to laugh. “I was literally cheering for you.”

He grabs your ankle.

“Bucky—!”

And just like that, he hauls you down onto the sand, flipping you until you’re under him, his metal arm braced beside your head.

“Now we’re both out,” he says smugly, eyes sparkling.

“You’re gonna get sand in my—”

He kisses you.

“Penalty!” Kate calls, blowing her whistle wildly. “You can’t kiss during a timeout!”

“Wanda, enforce it!” Sam shouts.

But Wanda just shrugs. “They’re cute. Let them live.”

—

The ocean had calmed, volleyball lines now half-faded, and the team gathered under a massive sunshade Tony had somehow rigged with repulsor-powered cooling fans. (Because, “sweating is a war crime.”)

Lunch was a full spread: sandwiches, fruit platters, chips, a suspicious amount of guac, and desserts Wanda had magicked into existence with a flick of her wrist and zero FDA oversight. Everyone sat scattered on beach towels and folding chairs, lazily reaching for snacks, plates balanced on knees, drinks in sand-embedded cupholders.

You were perched between Bucky’s legs, your back resting against his chest as he sat up behind you, legs on either side of yours, his vibranium hand holding a plate while his other casually plucked a strawberry and lifted it to your lips.

“You first,” he murmured, low and soft, that small smile he always gave just for you on his lips.

You gave him a look. “What, you’re not gonna eat unless I do?”

He shrugged. “Can’t let you waste away before dinner. That would be irresponsible.”

“Is this your love language?” you teased, biting the strawberry.

Bucky leaned closer, his scruff brushing your jaw as he kissed your temple. “It’s classified.”

Across from you, Sam let out a loud, exaggerated groan. “Aww, would you look at this domestic mess. Sergeant Barnes out here like he’s in a beachside rom-com.”

Peter snorted through a mouthful of sandwich. “He’s literally feeding her. Feeding. Like—did I miss a Hallmark movie casting call?”

Nat smirked around her drink. “Let them be in love, boys. It’s cute. And if you tease him too hard, he will launch you both back into the ocean.”

Bucky didn’t even blink. “Try me.”

“Not you, Nat,” he added quickly. “You’re safe. They, however?” He pointed at Sam and Peter, expression flat. “Flight risk.”

Lunch had settled into a lazy lull. People were stretched out in the sand, limbs heavy and sun-drunk. Tony had dozed off with his sunglasses tilted sideways. Sam and Clint were arguing about who had the better volleyball serve (still). Nat and Wanda were deeply focused on making an elaborate sand sculpture of the Quinjet. Kate was editing photos and muttering about “perfect Instagram lighting.”

And you? You were still tucked between Bucky’s legs under the umbrella, full and smiling, when he leaned forward, arm brushing yours.

“You got room for dessert?” he murmured, already holding out a mini chocolate cupcake like it was a sacred offering.

“I thought you were the one who said I was gonna waste away earlier,” you said, grinning as you took it.

“Still true. You burn calories faster when you laugh. And you’ve been laughing all day.”

“Because you keep threatening to throw Peter into the ocean.”

“And I will.”

You laughed again—and Bucky looked like he might melt into the towel from how hard he was staring at you.

You bit into the cupcake, humming at how rich and gooey it was. He watched you with a tilted head, that classic Bucky Barnes soft-smile that meant danger, you’re about to be ruined by how tender he can be.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he said too innocently. Then, he leaned in and kissed you, slow and warm and tasting like chocolate and heat. His hand curled gently around your jaw, thumb grazing your cheek. When he pulled away, just barely, he smirked.

“Had to taste the sweetness.”

You blinked, breath catching.

“Was that a line?”

He kissed you again. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Then he handed you an ice pop, which you opened while muttering something about him being lucky he’s cute. He wiped a smear of melted red juice from your bottom lip with his thumb—then, yep, kissed you again.

“You’re just using dessert as an excuse,” you teased, melting more than the popsicle.

“I don’t need an excuse,” he whispered, voice low and full of that sleepy-summer love.

And then Peter yelled across the beach, “DO YOU TWO EVER STOP?” before promptly being tackled into the water by Sam and Clint mid-shriek.

You and Bucky just grinned and kept sharing the ice pop.

You were about halfway through the ice pop—cherry, sticky-sweet, cold enough to make your lips tingle—when Bucky leaned in again, eyes on your mouth like you were the most fascinating thing on the beach.

“You’re not even pretending to wait between kisses anymore,” you murmured, glancing up at him.

“Why would I?” he replied, unapologetic. “You taste like summer.”

That would’ve been swoonworthy enough, but then he kissed you with the popsicle still in your hand, one hand on your thigh, the other braced behind you on the towel, drawing you in until you could barely remember how to breathe.

You were too distracted to notice the rest of the girls watching from under Nat’s umbrella like they were at a reality show finale.

Kate raised her sunglasses, eyes wide. “That man is out here giving Nicholas Sparks with a six-pack.”

Wanda took a long sip of her juice box. “I swear, if Bucky picks her up bridal-style again I’m going to cry. I want what they have.”

Nat snorted. “No you don’t. You want to watch what they have and live vicariously while judging them silently.”

“That too,” Wanda said. “I’m multifaceted.”

Then, like he heard the commentary, Bucky glanced up over your head and gave the girls a small smirk—one of those classic Bucky looks that said I know what I’m doing and I’m going to keep doing it.

You looked back and caught them staring.

“Do you mind?” you called, laughing. “This is a private moment!”

Wanda waved you off. “If you want privacy, don’t look that in love in public!”

Kate snapped another photo. “Sorry, this is too cinematic. That lighting? The cherry popsicle kiss?? I'm tagging this beachside thirst trap, soldier edition.”

You dropped your head into Bucky’s shoulder with a groan while he just chuckled, clearly loving the attention.

—

As you tried to recover from the emotional damage of public display affection shaming, Steve strolled by again, glistening wet from the water, towel slung over his shoulder like a Greek god returning from battle.

“Ladies,” he said, nodding as he passed.

“AGAIN?” Kate screeched. “He does this on purpose.”

“He walks like Poseidon and talks like a Victorian suitor,” Wanda muttered, stunned.

Nat, totally unfazed, raised her drink. “We let him.”

Later, you were flat on your towel again, skin sun-warmed and belly full, when Bucky leaned down and kissed you—quick, barely there, except it wasn’t quick. His lips lingered, like he had more to say but didn’t need words for it.

“Mm,” you murmured, fingers brushing the side of his face. “What was that for?”

He shrugged. “You had sunscreen on your lips. Had to help.”

“You’re so full of it.”

“You love it.”

You absolutely did.

Eventually, everyone was sprawled back out on the beach, exhaustion finally taming the chaos. Music still played. Tony napped face-first in a towel. Kate was clicking away, camera in hand, sneakily capturing every goofy grin and sun-kissed candid.

You were gossiping with Nat and Wanda, reliving the game and rating everyone's beach fits (Peter’s tank top got a 4, but only because he’d had ketchup on it since arrival), when the atmosphere shifted.

"Hydration check," a deep voice said.

You turned—and there was Bucky, walking straight toward you, shirt off, water glistening on his torso, looking like a freaking Baywatch promo. You swore slow-mo kicked in. Nat actually dropped her drink. Wanda fanned herself.

“You look dehydrated,” he said, too casual. “Gotta fix that.”

“Bucky—don’t—”

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence.

He scooped you up, bridal style, and took off sprinting toward the ocean.

“BUCKY BARNES YOU PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW!” you shrieked, kicking and laughing and slapping his shoulder.

“No can do, sweetheart! You’ll thank me later!”

The water was cold. Your scream echoed. He didn’t even hesitate.

The splash could’ve been seen from space.

You emerged sputtering, makeup half gone, swimsuit slightly off-kilter, laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe. Bucky was grinning like the smug menace he was, brushing wet hair off your face as you glared at him, chest still heaving.

“I hate you,” you said, still smiling.

He leaned in. “No you don’t.”

“…Fine,” you huffed. “But you owe me a back massage later.”

“You got it, doll.”

—

Back at your towel, Bucky shifted to lie back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other lazily hooked around your waist. His fingers traced small circles over the curve of your hip, casual and affectionate.

“You good, doll?” he asked, eyes squinting against the sun.

You laid your head on his chest. “Too good. It’s suspicious. Something chaotic’s about to happen.”

Right on cue—

Peter: "SAM NO—WAIT—"

Splash.

Tony (somewhere from the juice bar, sipping a mojito): “I said don’t try to piggyback the Falcon while he’s flying, Underoos! That’s physics!”

And like clockwork, Clint: “Volleyball rematch in ten! I’m not letting Cap and the archer win again with their golden boy synergy!”

Kate stood, already holding a clipboard. “Wanda and I are reffing. There will be no mercy and no backsies.”

Wanda flicked her fingers, her sunglasses glowing red. “If anyone argues a call, I will float you.”

Bucky groaned. “Great. We’re doing this again.”

You stood, brushing sand off your legs and giving him a teasing smirk. “Come on, Baywatch. Time to lose gracefully.”

He grabbed your hand and tugged you toward him for one last kiss.

“I don’t plan on losing anything,” he whispered. “Especially not you.”

You rolled your eyes, heart pounding. “Cheesy.”

“Sweet,” he corrected. “Like that kiss.”

You were so not ready for how much you loved this man.

The girls had claimed a perfect stretch of sand for sand angels, arms and legs flailing in unison, laughter ringing as they crafted perfect impressions.

The boys tried to join in, but it quickly devolved. Bucky flopped down beside you and made a half-hearted angel, sand sticking to his skin.

Then Clint, always the instigator, launched a sandball that kicked off a full sand fight.

Bucky was a sniper, sneaking up behind you and hitting you with a perfect, cool ball of sand. You shrieked and retaliated, sending a small flurry right back at him.

Nearby, Tony had set up “sand traps” with sensors, and Steve was the first victim—walking straight into one and getting showered in sand. Someone caught it on their phone, and the video quickly went viral.

Everyone was laughing, messy and sunburned, caught in perfect chaos—just like family.

—

You were asleep. Peacefully. On Bucky’s chest. His arms were wrapped around you like sea-worn stone—protective, unmoving, devoted. He’d tilted his head back on the umbrella pole, closed his eyes, and let himself drift with your breath syncing against him.

“Yo, Barnes,” Sam whispered nearby, tossing a towel. It hit Bucky’s arm. He didn’t budge.

“You gonna move?” Steve asked.

“Nope,” Bucky mumbled. “She’s sleeping.”

“She’s drooling on your chest.”

“Still cute.”

15 minutes later:

Peter, armed with a plastic bucket of ocean water, cackled across the beach like a feral gremlin. His target? Sam. His crime? Aim.

He hurled the water.

It missed Sam.

Hit. You. Dead center.

Your gasp was shriek-level loud.

Bucky sat up like a SEAL on alert. You were soaked. Spluttering. Betrayed. Peter’s smile dropped.

“I’m—OH NO—” he started running.

Too late.

Bucky launched from the towel like a vengeful beach deity, grabbed Peter mid-sprint, and slung him over his shoulder like a sandbag.

“NOOO—MR. STARK!!” Peter screamed. “MR. STARK HELP ME—”

But Tony was singing ‘Telephone’ at full volume, doing dramatic Lady Gaga choreography with a juice box microphone. “Sorry I cannot hear you, I’m kinda busy!”

Bucky ran full speed to the shore.

Peter: “I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE IN THE OCEAN—”

Splash.

You were off snapping pics with Kate and Wanda when Nat wandered past Bucky, who was crouched alone in the sand.

She paused, narrowed her eyes.

There it was—your name, scratched in messy letters, right next to a crooked heart. Bucky used the edge of his dog tag to etch it in carefully, like he was carving something permanent into the world.

He wiped his hand over it the second he noticed her.

“Mmhm,” Nat said, arms crossed.

“Wasn’t me,” Bucky replied.

“Right. Just some other lovestruck ex-assassin with bad handwriting?”

He didn’t answer.

But when you returned and saw the slightly smudged heart, you smiled.

Didn’t say anything.

Just kissed his cheek.

He blushed like a sunburn.

As the day drew on, you and Bucky stole more moments: laying side by side with his hand resting on your hip, walking along the surf where he picked up a seashell and slipped it into your bag like a secret gift, slow kisses under the umbrella that made Sam dramatically retch from ten feet away.

“Y’all got three feet of PDA before I call HR!” he shouted.

Bucky pulled you closer.

“File the paperwork,” he muttered against your neck.

—

Kate and Sam had appointed themselves the unofficial lifeguards of the beach, perched high on a couple of wooden chairs with whistles around their necks and oversized sunglasses hiding their grins.

“Alright, Beach Patrol, eyes sharp,” Kate called, blowing her whistle once.

Sam smirked, scanning the water like a pro… until he caught sight of Kate tossing sand at him. The whistle was forgotten. Suddenly, they were chasing each other in a sand sprint, laughter echoing across the shore.

Meanwhile, Peter was cautiously wading near the rocks, focusing hard on his footing. Just as he shifted weight, the slick algae caught his foot and he started to fall backward.

Bucky, standing nearby with you in his arms (literally, you’d been climbing onto his back earlier), immediately stepped forward and caught Peter’s arm before he toppled.

“Whoa there, kid,” Bucky said, steadying him.

Peter blinked up at him, wide-eyed. “Thanks, Bucky!”

Bucky struck a mock-heroic pose—one foot propped on a rock, chest puffed, looking like he was ready for a movie poster.

Tony, lounging nearby with a drink, raised an eyebrow and called out, “Save the day and work the runway, huh?”

Clint burst out laughing, and even Peter joined in, teasing, “Look at you, Mr. Hero Pose!”

Bucky just rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips as you leaned into him, whispering, “You’re my hero.”

—

The tide pools were a treasure trove of color and life, shimmering beneath the soft light. You and Bucky wandered among the rocks, carefully stepping to avoid slippery seaweed.

You crouched down, holding out a tiny iridescent shell, “Look at this one.”

Bucky smiled softly, pulling a small shell from a crevice and handing it to you. “Here. For you.”

You tucked it behind your ear, giggling.

He watched you with a shy smile that crept up slowly. Every time you found a “perfect” shell, he seemed to glow a little brighter, like he was proud to be your partner in this simple, beautiful moment.

At one point, you turned around, and Bucky was tracing circles in the sand with his finger, writing your initials surrounded by shells.

You caught his eye, heart fluttering, and whispered, “You’re full of surprises.”

He just shrugged, cheeks pink. “Only for you."

—

By sundown, the team was gathered around a beach bonfire, roasting marshmallows and reminiscing about past missions and today's “survival stories.” Peter tried to make a S’mores tower that collapsed instantly. Tony declared he was building an Iron-Man-themed snack bar for next year. Steve offered to grill next time if someone (Sam) stopped bringing vegan sausages.

As the stars blinked to life overhead, you leaned into Bucky’s side, head on his shoulder.

“I think today might’ve been perfect,” you said quietly.

Bucky looked down at you, expression soft. “You make it perfect.”

And later that night, your phone buzzed:

📸 Kate Bishop Subject: “You’re the Main Character 😌” 67 new photos

There were candids of you laughing, Bucky stealing a kiss on your cheek, you mid-scream as he carried you to the water, a selfie of you both sun-drenched and smile-worn.

And one last photo—just you, standing in the sunset, wind in your hair, golden hour catching your smile like magic.

 —You laughing with the girls —Bucky kissing the top of your head —Your intertwined hands silhouetted against the sunset —A perfectly framed snap of you mid-laugh, wind in your hair, eyes sparkling —You and Bucky mid-kiss with a melting popsicle between you —Bucky looking at you like he hung the sun himself —You, wet hair, sunglasses on, absolutely glowing —The moment Steve said “ladies” and every girl blushed in unison —A group shot of everyone mid-volleyball chaos, sand flying, Peter in the air somehow, Sam yelling

—And a single candid of Bucky wiping cherry juice from your lips with his thumb —That moment he fed you the perfect s’more   —You and Bucky sharing a hoodie by the bonfire, his arms wrapped around you, your head tucked under his chin. The fire glow behind you looks straight out of a Nicholas Sparks adaptation. —That moment he fed you the perfect s’more

— you mid-laugh, chocolate on your lip, and Bucky smirking as he wiped it with his thumb. Too much. Too soft—You two dancing under the stars, your back against his chest, his cheek resting on your head. Kate labeled it “soft-core emotional damage” in her album. —Bucky looking at you like you're the only person alive during lunch. You didn’t even know he looked at you like that.

At the bottom, a message: “You two are disgustingly cute. Can’t wait for the wedding. 💍❤️”

You stared at the photos, heart full, face warm, and whispered to yourself with a smile—

“Yeah. Definitely perfect.”

—

The sun had tucked itself below the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of lavender and peach, and now the only glow came from the crackling bonfire and a string of fairy lights Tony had aggressively zip-tied to some driftwood “for ambience.”

People were sprawled in loose circles around the flames, wrapped in towels, hoodies, or each other. You were tucked between Bucky's legs, your back resting against his chest, his arms loose around your waist. It was warm, but his presence made everything feel warmer.

"Alright, who's got the marshmallows—?" Clint called, already holding one dangerously close to the flames.

"You haven't even put it on the stick, man," Sam deadpanned.

You reached for a stick and started roasting your own, methodically spinning it for that golden crust.

Peter sat way too close to the chocolate stash, stacking two bars and an entire marshmallow mountain between his graham crackers. "This is gonna be a masterpiece."

"That's a war crime," Kate muttered, watching as half the chocolate slid out and melted on his lap.

Tony whipped out a crème brûlée torch like he was unveiling the sword of Excalibur. “Gourmet time, people.”

Sam stared. “You’re not on Top Chef, bro.”

Meanwhile, Clint was already holding up a charred marshmallow that looked like it had survived a house fire. "Perfect."

"You're banned from fire," Nat said, snatching the stick from him and handing it to Wanda.

You, focused and patient, pulled your marshmallow out of the flame—perfectly golden, gooey inside. You turned, triumphant, and Bucky was already holding up a graham cracker in one hand, chocolate waiting.

“C’mon,” he murmured, blue eyes catching the firelight, a smug little smile tugging at his lips. “Let me help.”

You sandwiched the marshmallow carefully, fingers brushing, and just as you were about to bite, Bucky tilted the s’more up and fed it to you himself, slow, deliberate. Chocolate smeared slightly at the corner of your mouth.

Before you could even reach for a napkin, he leaned in and licked it clean—quick and smug, soft and smugger.

The world blurred around you—Kate shrieking about her sandal getting caught in the log pile, Peter yelling “FIRE SAFETY” at Tony, Sam swearing Clint set his towel on fire—and still, it was just you and Bucky, wrapped in this flickering, perfect moment.

—

Wanda clapped her hands once. “Alright. Confessions circle. You know the rules. Be messy or be boring.”

Peter immediately launched into the story about webbing himself to a lamppost during patrol and getting stuck there for two hours until MJ found him with a churro and pity.

Everyone howled.

Clint’s involved a failed disguise involving a raccoon and a trench coat, which somehow ended with him being tackled by mall security. "The raccoon was wearing sunglasses," he defended. “I committed.”

Then, it was Bucky’s turn.

He looked into the fire for a second, then, quietly: “Used to sneak out of barracks during training. Brooklyn summer nights. I’d take my girl—whoever I was with at the time—down to the docks and teach her how to dance. Didn’t always have music. Just… steps and stars.”

You didn’t say a word. You were too busy falling in love with him again, with every syllable, every ghost of a memory. He glanced at you halfway through, and even though he was speaking to everyone, the rest of the story felt like it was for you.

Then it was your turn.

You shifted, suddenly bashful. “Okay—so… this was before Bucky and I were together. I was on this mission, right? Supposed to intercept a target in this corporate tower. But while I was waiting, one of the employees stumbled on me. Poor guy was terrified, but I didn’t want to kill him—he wasn’t the target.”

Everyone leaned in.

“So I tied him up—nicely, okay?—and just kinda… started ranting about Bucky. Like full-on ‘what if I ruin the friendship’ and ‘what if he doesn’t mean it when he brushes my hand and then holds it for too long?’ levels of meltdown. I asked the poor guy for advice. While tied up.”

There was dead silence.

You added, sheepish: “We talked for like an hour. Turns out he hated his boss, who was the target, so I let him go. We’re still mutuals on Letterboxd.”

Peter nearly choked on a marshmallow. “GIRL WHAT—”

Kate and Wanda howled.

Nat leaned forward, cackling. “Wait. That’s real?”

Bucky was quiet for a beat, then laughed—low and soft and a little smug. “Should’ve known you were already obsessed.”

You elbowed him, but leaned into him seconds later, and he wrapped his arms tighter around you like you were made of something precious. Sacred.

The night deepened, wind picking up off the waves. You shivered once, and before the second could hit, Bucky was already peeling off his hoodie.

“Here,” he murmured, slipping it over your shoulders. “Can’t have you freezing.”

You smiled as you tucked yourself into the hoodie—it smelled like him, and the sleeves nearly swallowed your hands.

Then, without hesitation, he wrapped himself around you again from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Just in case the hoodie’s not enough.”

You finished your wild story, face flushed, eyes wide as the group stared at you like you had just announced you were actually a raccoon in disguise. A very emotional raccoon.

There was a solid five seconds of stunned silence, broken only by the sound of Wanda sucking in a breath through her teeth and whispering, “Oh that’s insane.”

“I—okay. I was vulnerable!” you protested. “And he gave good advice! He said I should be brave!”

Bucky was silently shaking with laughter behind you, chin resting on your shoulder. “So while on a classified mission, you trauma-dumped on a civilian you restrained about me?”

“I tied him up nicely!”

“Oh, well that makes it better,” Sam deadpanned.

Kate leaned forward, clutching her drink. “Wait, what did he say exactly?”

“Yeah,” Tony chimed in, smirking with the gleam of a man who would make this his personality for the rest of the week. “Let’s get a quote or two from your accidental therapist hostage. For posterity.”

You groaned. “He said… I was obviously in love and trying to act chill. He said I was projecting anxiety as aggression, and I told him to shut up but, like, politely.”

“I’M GONNA CRY,” Peter wheezed, nearly choking on his soda.

Nat pointed at you, tears in her eyes from laughing. “You threatened a man and then emotionally collapsed about your crush.”

“He said Bucky probably knew, and I said no he didn’t, and then I spiraled about the way Bucky always opened doors for me and kept touching the small of my back, and—”

“Wait wait wait,” Tony cut in, holding up a hand like he was moderating a courtroom. “THE SMALL OF THE BACK?! How dare you gloss over that detail! That’s prime romance real estate!”

“I was GOING THROUGH IT, OKAY?!”

Bucky, calm and smug and cozy around you, was grinning now. He kissed your temple lightly. “Wish I knew about this sooner. Would’ve made a move that day.”

You turned and stared at him. “WHAT?”

He shrugged, totally unbothered. “Told Steve about my crush on you a week before that mission. Said I was gonna wait till after to tell you, since you were stressed.”

“YOU WHAT.”

Steve raised his hands. “In my defense, I did say he should just tell you.”

Wanda flopped sideways into Kate, kicking her feet. “Oh my god this is better than any romcom. Someone write this down.”

“You let me sob over you to a tied-up man when you were already in love with me?!”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god. You’re both emotionally unhinged. I love it. I’m giving a toast.”

He raised his drink. “To our very own tragic espionage romance and the hostage who became a couples therapist.”

Peter raised his can. “To Jared from HR or whoever that guy was.”

“His name was Lucas! And he did not ask for this!”

“I want him at your wedding,” Nat said, utterly serious.

Bucky was laughing into your shoulder now, holding you tighter. “Please tell me you still have his number.”

You nodded, face in your hands.

Tony immediately pulled out his phone. “We’re tracking him down. I want the full transcripts.”

It’s late into the bonfire now. You’re still wrapped in Bucky’s hoodie, half in his lap, surrounded by friends who are NOT letting your story go. The marshmallows have stopped burning. Peter is on his fourth s’more. Everyone is in that late-night just unhinged enough to do something dumb mood.

And then Tony, still holding a drink and scrolling through your phone, finds it.

Tony: “Yo. [Name]. Is this the guy? Lucas: Hotdog Stand Guy from Mission??” You blink. “Wait you actually still had him saved?”

You (defensive): “I mean… he was cool!”

Kate: “You’re telling me you saved the number of your emotional hostage pen pal and just—never told us?”

Peter: “Please call him. Please. I need this.”

You hesitate. The group is chanting now. Bucky's arm is snug around your waist, his mouth at your ear.

Bucky (low, teasing): “C’mon, doll. Let’s meet your relationship coach.”

You sigh. Grab the phone. Put it on speaker.

It rings once. Twice. Then—

Lucas (answering, immediately): “Please tell me you didnt butt dial me while youre making out”

You let out a gasp yelling saying it was once, your face flustered bucky let out a low chuckle.

Lucas (with a tone of sass):

"Girl no. Twice."

Lucas (unbothered): “ANYWAYS I BEEN SAYING—Y’ALL HAD CHEMISTRY! WHO’S LAUGHING NOW?! Not me. I KNEW IT.”

You (mortified): “Hi Lucas.”

Lucas: “Ayo is he there? Is Winter Soldier there? Put him on. I GOT WORDS.”

You hold the phone up toward Bucky, who takes it with a bemused expression.

Bucky: “Hey.”

Lucas (serious now): “I’m proud of you, my man. You were giving soft, confused golden retriever energy and you turned that into commitment. Respect.”

Bucky (grinning): “I—thank you?”

Lucas: “You feeding her s’mores? You braiding her hair like she used to dream about in front of me while I was zip-tied?”

Bucky: “…yes?”

Lucas (clapping): “YES SIRRR. That’s growth. That’s romance. I better be best man.”

Tony (yelling): “Lucas, you’re invited to the compound anytime.”

Lucas: “Bet. I’m free Tuesday.”

Wanda: “Lucas. What was it like listening to [Name] spiral?”

Lucas: “Spiritual. I felt like I was watching a Netflix docuseries in real time. She made ME believe in love again.”

You are screaming into your hands now as everyone laughs around you, tears in their eyes.

Lucas (softly now): “I’m proud of you, [Name]. Look at you. Got the super-soldier, got the hoodie, got a whole group of chaotic-ass friends. Dream life.”

You (giggling): “Thanks, Lucas.”

Lucas (loud again): “ALRIGHT Y’ALL. I’M OUT. BE SAFE. WRAP IT BEFORE YOU ZAP IT.”

Call ends.

Dead silence.

Then:

Tony: “I’m putting that man on payroll.”

—

The party seemed to only be getting started, from endless karaoke and dance battles everyone was having the time of their lives. The music shifts to Cool for the Summer — that catchy, electric beat filling the space. Everyone’s hyped up after the dance battles, and suddenly, Peter pipes up, “Hey, you two gotta do it. The iconic Fresh scene. You know, the one with Steve and Noa?”

You and Bucky exchange a quick glance and a grin — that’s your secret move, a little throwback to a dance only the two of you know inside and out.

Bucky smirks, “Guess it’s showtime.”

Peter’s watching from the side, totally shocked. “Wait — you guys watched Fresh? Like, seriously?”

You grin and nod as the first smooth step hits.

Bucky, in full Steve mode, says softly, “Let’s dance.”

You reply, matching the exact tone, “Let’s dance.”

Peter almost falls over laughing but claps loudly, totally impressed.

The two of you spin, sliding into the classic step-touch with finger snaps — every move crisp and synced like a perfect mirror.

At the part where Noa shimmies and does that hip roll, you toss your hair and Bucky follows suit with his own smooth roll, both of you cracking into laughter but not breaking the rhythm.

Peter’s eyes widen, “Okay, I’m officially obsessed. You two have practice for this?”

You shake your head with a laugh, “Nah, just a little binge one night. We’ve been saving it.”

Tony shouts, “Now THAT’S how you do it! Kate, come on, we gotta step it up!”

Kate screams, “Bring it, Barnes!” as she drags Tony into the next round, both of them laughing and trying to keep up.

Peter’s grinning ear to ear, “You guys just turned the whole beach into a dance floor — I’m never gonna top that.”

You lean into Bucky, heart racing from the adrenaline and the way everyone’s loving your secret little moment.

Bucky smiles low, whispering, “Told you — some things never go out of style.”

Peter’s clapping, “Yo, this is the best beach party ever!”

You lean into Bucky, feeling that electric buzz of the crowd, the warmth of his hand steady on your waist, the music pulsing like a heartbeat.

And just like that, the whole beach is a dance floor, alive with laughter, music, and the kind of moments that turn into memories.

Tony puffs out his chest, hands on hips, glancing at Kate with mock confidence. “Alright, kiddo, time to school these two on some real moves.”

Kate smirks, bouncing on her heels. “Oh yeah? You sure you’re ready for this? Last time you danced, you pulled a muscle… or was that your dignity?”

Tony waves her off dramatically. “Please. I’ve been rehearsing in front of the mirror. I’ve got moves so smooth, they make silk jealous.”

They start their attempt — Tony tries the slick sideways slide but immediately trips over his own feet, sprawling onto the sand.

Kate bursts out laughing, clutching her stomach. “Smooth like silk? More like a silk sheet caught in a windstorm!”

Tony grins from the ground, not missing a beat. “Hey, it’s a modern interpretation. Very avant-garde.”

Kate shakes her head, trying not to laugh as she attempts the finger snap but accidentally flicks sand into Tony’s face.

Tony sputters, wiping his eyes. “Okay, okay — you try, Miss Perfect.”

Kate hits the beat, snapping and sliding, but halfway through her hip roll she stumbles and ends up nearly face-planting.

Tony chuckles, offering her a hand. “Told you — we’re not quite Steve and Noa, but hey, at least we’re having fun, right?”

Kate takes his hand, laughing. “Yeah, fun with a side of embarrassment. Maybe we should just stick to cheering from the sidelines.”

Tony winks. “Speak for yourself — next karaoke round, I’m claiming the mic!”

Kate groans, “Oh no… please, no.”

suddenly the whole group is hyped, eager to recreate the iconic dance you and Bucky just performed flawlessly.

Tony cracks his knuckles, ready to lead the charge. “Alright team, time to show off those moves!”

Peter grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Bet none of you can match what [Name] and Bucky just pulled.”

Sam and Clint exchange glances, smirking as they step forward, trying the finger snaps and hip rolls but ending up laughing as their moves turn into an awkward shuffle.

Kate twirls, nearly losing her balance but catching herself with a dramatic flourish. “Okay, okay, who taught you two that smooth stuff?”

Everyone turns to you and Bucky — who’ve retreated from the center, just swaying quietly together. His back presses gently against yours, his head resting softly atop yours, arms wrapped loosely but protectively around your waist.

Peter nudges Tony, whispering, “Man, they don’t even need to dance, just look at them.”

Tony watches you both, a slow smile spreading on his face. “Yeah, that’s the real show right there.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Silent power move.”

You lean into Bucky, feeling the steady beat of his heartbeat matching the music. No flashy steps, no wild moves — just the warmth of being exactly where you’re supposed to be.

And somehow, that’s the most magnetic dance of all.

As the beat of Cool for the Summer fades into an equally hyper energetic song —something along the lines of Cake By The Ocean if someone got cheeky with the playlist — the party shifts into that perfect golden-hour haze, even though the fire's still crackling and the stars are high overhead.

Sam is dramatically dancing with a stick like it’s his true soulmate, muttering, “She never talks back. Perfect woman.”

Tony’s in the middle of teaching Clint and Wanda some kind of absurd made-up waltz-slash-robot hybrid, and they’re all laughing so hard they nearly fall over. “Tell me this isn’t art!” Tony declares, twirling Kate once and accidentally tripping over a log.

“Peter,” Kate slurs playfully shes drunk off the caprisuns, pointing a chip at him, “you gotta admit we nailed that duet. Like, Grammy-winning, no—EGOT-worthy.” Peter, who’s only tipsy on adrenaline and soda, holds up an empty marshmallow stick like a mic. “I’d like to thank the Academy… and Katy Perry… and my vocal cords.”

Meanwhile, you and Bucky have drifted just a little farther from the circle, swaying softly under the blanket of stars. You're tipsy — that light, bubbly kind that makes everything feel warmer, softer, floatier. His arms wrap around you, steady and grounding. Your head rests back against his chest as his chin hooks gently over your shoulder, breathing calm and quiet against your temple.

The music is barely there now. Just ambient hums, flickering flame, distant laughter. Your fingers curl lazily into his. “Did you ever dance like this in the streets of Brooklyn?” you ask, voice soft and dreamy, like you’re afraid the question might float away with the smoke.

You feel the subtle rumble of his laugh against your back. “I did,” he says, after a beat. “Plenty of times.”

You glance up toward him. “Was it like this?”

He’s quiet for a moment, and then leans closer, pressing his cheek against yours. “No,” he murmurs. “This… is so much better.”

You smile, heart fluttering, grounding yourself against the quiet rhythm of him. He brushes a kiss against your temple. “Brooklyn didn’t have you.”

And maybe no one hears it but you — and maybe that makes it all the more perfect.

Behind you, Sam’s yelling, “Ayo! Someone stop Steve from trying to two-step with the cooler!” Peter’s giving Tony a piggyback ride in a full karaoke encore. Kate is holding Wanda’s face and dramatically declaring her love for fries.

And you? You’re still dancing. Still swaying with Bucky, just you and him and the stars.Beach Day: 10/10. Would absolutely be chaos again.

(You've got mail!) THIS was so insanely stupid but it seemed like the perfect kind of beach day/episode..i had a feeling they would not be normal because what is normal anyways! BUT YESS summa is here and its fast approaching! better see all yall out having fun at pools beaches lakesides ETC ETC. HOT GIRL SUMMA WHERE WE LISTEN TO 2016 MUSIC WATCH MCU AND WE OUTSIDEEE!!!

Tag List @bbsbrina @herejustforbuckybarnes

[lizziee-olseen]

  First time

Wanda maximoff x fem reader

Word Count:2,061

Summary: When an old friend of your mother comes to visit you you don't like me at all but when you saw the beautiful red-haired woman those thoughts quickly disappeared

Warnings: Spanking, oral sex, rope ties, maybe corruption I don't know the truth tell me if I miss something :D

Note: English is not my mother tongue, so l apologize for any spelling mistake. It is also my first time publishing here so be kind I promise it will improve in the future T-T

You weren't happy when your mother told you that an old friend was going to stay with you, you appreciated the tranquility of the house since it was only the two of you and sometimes your other mother who came to visit you and who sometimes stayed for dinner if she stayed longer than expected but you were sure that she only did it to annoy your mother

You were an only child you didn't grow up with more children nearby if they weren't those at school, but you never invited them to your house since for you it was your sacred place, you didn't like them to invade those at the school that was yours

And it has been like that until your mother told you one day that her childhood friend was getting divorced and needed a place to clear her mind and relax, you were not nice at first you didn't want a stranger to live with you but after a few days you accepted it

You searched through your mother's things to find out who this supposed childhood friend was, it was not easy at first but after rummaging for a long time you found the old photos, without calculating that they were your age in the photo you smiled when you saw your mom hugging the woman, without a doubt you were impressed by her beauty, you wondered how it ended up divorced since the person undoubtedly must have been an idiot to leave a tremendous woman, after a while you put everything away and went to your room thinking about the woman Mysterious that she was going to move

The day came quickly, you saw the woman get out of a beautiful red car you laughed internally since it was almost the same as her hair, you came down from your room and went to say hello, your mother hugged her tightly and she also stayed a little behind waiting for their intimate moment to end, when they let go you saw how the woman stayed looking at you you felt a little uncomfortable since her gaze was intense and intimidating

"Oh honey, she's Wanda, the friend I told you was going to stay with us for a while," your mother commented happily as she brought you closer to greet Wanda

"When you leave" you didn't know why you had said, you didn't mean that, when you realized the words you had said you wanted to apologize immediately but the laughter he let out left you blank

"Wow, I see that you took out your other mother's attitude" you were frozen not knowing what to say fortunately your mother saved you

"Don't pay attention to her Wanda, and/it's a little difficult but I'm sure they'll get along amazing"

"I know we'll do it Agatha" Wanda says while winking at you quickly your cheeks blushed and the slight heating of this one bothered you

Both women laughed and went inside the house leaving you there alone processing what happened without a doubt it was going to be a difficult few months

──────•❥❥❥•──────

The first week flew by, you were careful you tried not to be in the same places as Wanda and it's not that you and your mother lived in a very big house they only had the first floor and on the second were the rooms next to the bathroom that was only yours but with Wanda here you have had to share it with her

The bathroom has been a big problem that right now you would like to just occupy the bathroom that Agatha has there in her room

Wanda has a big problem with not closing the lock when she bathes or occupies the first time you ran out slamming the door and the image of her silhouette that was shown on the screens was engraved in your head, at first you thought she was forgetful and that she was used to it since she was a married woman so you assumed that couples did not close the doors but then seeing her go out with her towel and wink you began to doubt that

The second time it happened it was worse since you were brushing your teeth and Wanda came in alone in a towel you were frozen not knowing what to do or say she just smiled at you and took off the towel leaving it in all its glory and then entered the shower, you quickly spit out the toothpaste and ran out to lock yourself in your room that day you didn't even go out to eat for your luck you always have sweets to eat

Since then you avoid Wanda as you can, you try to occupy your mother's bathroom just making an excuse that yours is being occupied with Wanda, it's time for dinner you invent a quick excuse saying that you are hungry just to go down when everyone is asleep and serve you a plate of food

In fact, right now you're warming up your food, it was already past 12:00, your mother was fast asleep and you assumed that Wanda too, I wish you had noticed the reddish monster that she wasn't happy with your attitude, I wish you hadn't gone down to eat that night

You decided to make yourself a dessert with apples so you were cutting one, you were so focused that you didn't notice the person who was surrounding you, until a body pushed you slightly into the kitchen cabinet

"That does a sweet thing cutting with a sharp knife" you were frozen not knowing what to do it took you a while to react

"I just want to eat apple" you spoke quickly Wanda denied and gently took the knife out of your hand

"You shouldn't do it alone, a delicate thing shouldn't have something so sharp in its hands" she began to cut while she still had you trapped against the furniture

"I'm not a little girl" you claimed a serious mistake from you and your big mouth

"I see that you still have that attitude, maybe I should punish you for being insolent with older people" Wanda laughed bitterly and then left the knife aside, you wondered what was going through the older woman's head but it didn't take you long to think since Wanda in a quick movement pulled down your pants leaving you alone in your pink panties baby

"Wanda, what are you doing?" you said while trying to get closer to your pants that were on your feet

"Shhh calm down just let me do what I have to do" she tried to calm you down but seeing that your hands just wanted to recover your pants she sighed "little one you leave me no choice but to tie you up"

Wanda waved her hand and a soft pink fabric appeared. She quickly tied your hands and legs leaving you motionless. Your heart was beating a thousand. You didn't know whether to scream for your mother to come down or just let the woman get away with it.

"Calm down I promise you'll like it, you just need to shut up or you would like your mother to see how her best friend gets away with her with her little daughter" you quickly shook your head the idea alone makes you vomit "I knew you were good at listening, now my question is how many spankings do you think is right for you" you stayed for a while thinking about an answer to give her

"Maybe 20 sounds good" she laughed her hands moved everywhere in your body

"If 20 sounds like a good number for your first punishment, count for me but not so strong little one we don't want your mother to discover us"

The first spanking was delicate it almost didn't hurt it was a soft blow you wondered if all the punishment was going to be that easy but how wrong you were, the next blows came more rudely you were almost sure it wasn't 20 spankings since after the 13th your mind only focused on how your ass started to hurt and how your pussy started to get wet

"Look what a dirty girl, I knew you weren't as innocent as you showed yourself" Wanda was fascinated with how red your ass was, she was only supposed to come to challenge you for eating so late but your little attitude that you gave her the first day was engraved in her mind, she had found her little doll to break and corrupt to her liking

Her trip was supposed to be only temporary she was going to enjoy her loneliness and learn to be alone, her divorce was not easy for Wanda in fact she didn't want to separate from him but things got complicated and she couldn't anymore

But you were refreshing, someone new full of innocence and purity you were the light that Wanda needed in this darkness and I didn't plan to miss this opportunity for any reason

"Look at your princess parts, I'm sure you feel uncomfortable down there" you didn't know if I had to answer but you did

"It feels sticky Wanda" she carefully lowered your panties without disturbing your reddish ass your pussy was dripping it was a divine image

She carefully brought a finger closer to your swollen clitoris you jumped a little because of her touch in your area but as fast as the movement was she moved away "tell me little one have you ever touched yourself down there"

"No, I've never done it" Wanda smiled to herself without realizing it, it only made Wanda's desire grow more in her and she wanted to make you hers forever

"Well then I'll be careful, I promise to take care of you" before putting her fingers on you she carefully untied the ties that tied you leaving you free, she grabbed you carefully making you lift your ass to leave your dripping pussy visible

Wanda thought to herself that it would be good for you, for your first time, without thinking much about things she bent down and ran her tongue through your folds you jumped at first because of the sensation but then without realizing it your hips grinded in her face

Wanda was delicate at first her movements had you hypnotized, she sucked your cloud gently and then did it again with force, you had to cover your mouth since you couldn't stand the noises

You could only hear the noises of Wanda eating you, her mouth was talented and her tongue had hypnotized you your cloud was fascinated with the circular movements that they were giving her without a doubt Wanda was a great expert in this

You felt a tingling in your stomach it was a delicious sensation until you thought you were going to urinate so you tried to move Wanda's face away from your pussy, she instead bit you something hard but not painful

"Wait Wanda, I think I'm going to pee" you tried to convince the woman to get out of there

"Don't worry, that's what it feels like to have an orgasm" Wanda reassured you, she went back to doing her thing until she guided one of her fingers and began to massage you

The tingling increased you tried to hold it a little but you couldn't, you had your first orgasm in your kitchen and it was delicious your body twisted because of the pleasure you were having, your flows increased Wanda quickly licked everything as if her life depended on her, when there was nothing left she walked away without kissing you there she went up your panties and then your pajama pants

She turned you delicately and kissed you, it was a slow and delicate kiss she guided you in everything since you didn't know how to kiss

"I knew you were a delight now go to your room and ah don't skip your meals again or I won't have to punish you again understood" you just nodded, you quickly ran out of there not without first giving Wanda a quick kiss and you went to your room thinking about what happened without a doubt it was a good idea that your mother had invited Wanda.

[oizysian]

24 // Sugar mama // Toys

Summary: Y/N wants to buy something with Wanda’s money.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: strap sucking, sex, talks to toys

Word count: 690

Kinktober masterlist

“Mommy,” I said softly, knocking on the door to her office and peeking my head in. “Are you busy?”

“Never too busy for you.” She turned her attention from her computer screen to me, folding her hands on top of her desk. “What do you need, detka?”

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, my hands behind my back as I walked up to her desk.

“Nothing really,” I nudged an imaginary pebble on the ground with my foot, not wanting to ask what I wanted to ask.

“What is it, Y/N?” She raised an eyebrow at me and I looked down at the ground.

“I need your card.”

She sighed, nodding slightly at my words.

“What for this time?”

“Toys.” My voice was small, coming out as merely a squeak.

She tilted her head in curiosity, now listening intently to what I had to say.

“What kind of toys?”

“The sexy kind.” I shifted my gaze to my feet, almost embarrassed to be asking. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“That’s very sweet, darling. You know I love when you get new toys that I can use on you.”

I blushed, smiling at her words and the imagery they provided.

I walked around her desk and she turned her chair to face me. I knew that when she worked from home she was almost always packing, so I got on my knees in front of her and opened her pants. I wasn’t surprised when a flesh colored strap popped out, bouncing free in front of my face.

I licked my lips and smiled up at her. She nodded and I wrapped my lips around the tip before taking the whole thing in my mouth. I gagged slightly as it hit the back of my throat, but I relaxed, breathing through my nose slowly, and was able to bring myself up and down the length of it.

She placed her hand on my head, her strong fingers playing with locks of my hair as I took her length in my mouth.

“I see you really want those new toys, hmm?”

I hummed in response, bringing myself off the toy, a trail of saliva dangled from my lips to the tip of the strap and I wiped my face with the back of my hand.

“I really want you inside me.”

She leaned back in her chair and gestured to the strap between her legs and I took that as an invitation. I stood up and pushed my shorts down my legs, kicking them off to the side and getting on her lap.

“No panties?” She asked and I smiled.

“Not when you’re home.”

“Always so ready for me.”

I nodded excitedly, reaching between my legs to grab at her cock, bringing it to my entrance and easing down on it while she watched. I loved it when she watched me fuck myself on her and I knew that she loved watching.

I let out a low moan as she reached the deepest part of me, her hands gripping at my hips and guiding me down on her cock. I grabbed her shoulders and braced myself as I fucked myself on her. My eyes rolled back and I bit my lip as I got into a rhythm, her hands sliding down to the juncture of my thighs, her fingers lazily playing with my clit.

“Oh, mommy.” I whimpered, opening my eyes and looking deeply into her own. “I love you.”

She smiled up at me, the amount of love in her eyes shining back at me almost causing me to cry.

“I love you too, detka.”

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers in a crushing kiss, wanting to cum while I was as close to her as possible. With one hand, she reached around and held me and with the other she continued to finger my clit, rubbing tight, rough circles on it. I was losing my mind.

I came against her, moaning into her mouth as my pussy milked her silicone dick. I wished she could cum inside me. Maybe an ejaculating strap would be on my shopping list.

[wandaslovey]

how about a short wandanat fic/hc of reader being nerdy in secret. like playing fnaf, eating weird food combos, talking to themself like a video game character and owning kpop merch etc and wandanat LOVE IT SOO much but they never bring it up because they know r will get embarassed (fluff and teasing ples!!)

okay i’m gonna take some major liberties here and just say that in vii, bunny’s secret nerdy interest is the twilight series. she’s utterly obsessed, but hides her love for it cause everyone makes fun of her for it.

one day she was snuggled up reading a twilight fanfic on the couch and natasha walks past from behind, glancing at her phone screen. “what’re you reading?” natasha asks lowly next to her ear as she bends down to see what she was looking at.

“nothing!” bunny is quick to hide her phone, pushing the lock button and shoving the device under her leg. natasha’s interest is piqued in an instant and she walks around the edge of the couch before she plops down right next to bunny.

“oh, come on now, bunny. you know we don’t have any secrets..” she taunts as she leans forward, her arm extending outwards in the direction where bunny stuffed her phone. she was trapped. physically, there was nothing she could do to stop natasha from grabbing her phone. her toned biceps were evidence of that as they flexed ever so slightly with her arm raised above bunny’s body.

“it’s nothing natty, please drop it.” bunny pleads, leaning away from her and securely grasping her phone under her thigh.

“detka if you don’t tell me what you’re looking at, i’ll have no choice but to grab your phone and look at what you were reading. you know i know your password.” it was true. natasha did know her password. so did wanda.

“promise you won’t make fun me..” bunny tries to sound stern, her eyes narrowing, but her cheeks now blooming a shade of pink ruin the whole ‘warning’ look.

“you know i won’t promise that. tell me.” natasha insists, an amused smirk on her face. she grabs bunny’s legs, pulling them close together so their bodies were flush with one another.

bunny sighs loudly, looking off to the side as she swallows her nerves. “i was reading twilight fan fiction…” she mumbles quietly. her muttered response didn’t go unheard though as natasha’s ears were honed in, eager to hear the little secret.

“twilight?” natasha echoes, her smile utterly regale. “like sparkly vampires twilight?” she laughs freely, poking at bunny’s side when she doesn’t join in on her amused reaction. she tries to squirm away from natasha’s teasing but nat is having none of it. she keeps her body firmly pressed against hers.

“i didn’t know people still read that stuff!” natasha adds, only making bunny’s cheeks flame hotter. all she could do was half shrug, her face in a full pout now.

“awww, are you that embarrassed about it?” natasha’s tone is softly now albeit still amused. she maneuvers bunny so she was on top of her lap, her chin held firmly between her fingers so they had to look at one another.

“it’s okay, silly girl. i always knew you were a nerd.”

[wandascrush]

A friend comes calling

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Wanda Maximoff x f!reader, Avenegrrs x f!reader, Hydra x f!reader, new character x f!reader, Sharon Carter x f!reader

Warnings: angst, torture, burning, throw up, blackmail, trigger words, blackmail, noncon because of orders, seduction

Part 10 of the DIWK series

Tag list: @kissesfornat @ayrtonwilbury @womenarehotsstuff @esposadejoyhuerta @casquinhaa @blacatto @caffeine-pup @seventeen-x

Samantha’s voice is honeyed poison. Slick. Slow. Cruel.

“You really think they were looking for you?” she murmurs, dragging a lazy circle around your bruised wrist. “You saw the footage.”

Your head lolls slightly, exhaustion weighing on your every breath, “What footage?”

Samantha tilts her head, smirking.

“Let me show you.”

The screen crackles to life. And then, there they are. The Avengers.

At a press conference.

Tony Stark with a pressed suit and professional expression.

Natasha. Her lips tight.

Steve Rogers. Arms crossed.

And Tony is speaking.

“It is with great distress that we officially announce the disappearance of Agent Y/N L/N…”

Your heart stutters.

“Former highest-ranking SHIELD operative, special intel spy, and beloved member of our Avengers family.”

But something is wrong. Their faces don’t match their words.

They don’t look upset.

They don’t look like they lost you.

They look like they’re covering something up. Because they are.

You blink, throat dry. “That’s not—”

“Oh, it is.” Samantha leans in, her breath hot against your ear. “They were never going to come for you. The Avengers think they can do anything because they’re heroes. I mean, look what they’ve done to you—”

Your breathing turns shallow. The room sways.

“You’ve been abandoned before, haven’t you?” she whispers, feigning sympathy. “Your parents. Your sister. And now, the people you loved most.” Her hands twirl a lock of your hair between her fingers.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“Face it, sweetheart.” Samantha’s lips curl into a grin.

“The Avengers never wanted you.”

“But we do.”

And that’s when it happens.

The poison that’s been brewing inside of you slowly spills, infecting your veins.

A bitter taste corrupts your mouth.

Something dark clouds your eyes when you look at the Avengers.

—————————————

The branding iron came at the end of the first month.

By then, you had already been conditioned to expect something every day. A new dose. A new test. A new training companion. Another way to strip away the last pieces of your “Avenger” self.

But this?

This was personal.

Two men restrained you against the metal slab, ripping one side of your shirt to expose the back part of your left shoulder. Samantha entered the room, her expression unreadable. A third guard stood beside her, holding a long, thin metal rod—its tip glowing red-hot.

Your breathing slowed. Not out of calm. Out of pure, cold survival instinct.

“Do you know why we do this?” Samantha mused, tilting her head as she studied you.

“Are you asking me why a terrorist organization brands its prisoners? Gee, what a mystery.”

She continued anyway.

“It’s not to torture you. Not really. That’s just a side effect. It’s to remind you of one straightforward fact.”

The guard stepped forward. The heat from the iron was unbearable even before it made contact.

“You’re ours now.”

A sound ripped from your throat, somewhere between a gasp and a strangled groan. The burn was deep, cutting past skin, past flesh, sinking into muscle and bone. It stayed, the agony lingering long after the iron was pulled away. 

The smell of charred flesh filled the air. You threw up on the floor next to you, heaving and fighting for any breath of air. 

The HYDRA skull, ingrained onto the back of your left shoulder forever, burnt to your bone.

Samantha crouched in front of you, leveling her gaze with yours.

“You’ve held out longer than most. Still got that personality—just barely,” she admitted, impressed. “But everyone breaks, my friend. The trick is knowing when to stop fighting it.”

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t.

But you looked at her.

You looked at her like you were memorizing every detail of her face for later.

And for the first time—

She hesitated.

——————————-

It was subtle at first. The way your thoughts shuffled when you tried to think about the past, the Avengers. The way certain memories felt hazy, almost… artificial.

But the real test came when they brought her in.

Wanda.

Not in person. Just a photograph. Just an image of her face, projected onto a screen as the scientist monitored your neural responses.

Your pulse should have spiked.

Your brain activity should have lit up.

Your heart should have warmed.

But instead?

Nothing.

A blank void where she should have been. It felt like looking at a stranger.

“The psychic barrier is holding. No emotional penetration detected.”

Samantha smirked from across the room.

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

Next was Natasha.

Same result.

They weren’t just changing you.

They were removing you.

Wiping out the pieces they didn’t want.

Because when they sent you back—

They wanted you to be theirs.

But there was something they missed.

Someone they never accounted for. Because buried deep, hidden even from yourself—

Your oldest friend had never left your mind. 

Her name floated in your mind like smoke, impossible to grab hold of, but there. A lingering presence. A stubborn ember refusing to burn out.

Memories rising here and there. 

Sharon Carter had slipped through the cracks.

Four Months Later 

No more Agent L/N.

No more Y/N.

Just Asset.

The beatings had eased. Not because they grew kinder, but because they had you where they wanted.

Now, the next stage began.

You woke up at 5:00 AM, sharp. By 12:00 AM, you were thrown back into your cell, exhausted, mind foggy, body running on fumes. No breaks. No mercy. Only orders.

You weren’t new to this game. You had been trained by some of the worlds best at SHIELD since you were fifteen—your body was quick, your mind even quicker. HYDRA saw potential in that, and they had always been good at spotting assets. Molding them.

That’s when you knew.

This wasn’t just conditioning. This wasn’t just breaking you down.

This was the final stage. It had been an eternity since you felt like yourself. You forgot what it felt like to be human.

Your training was specific—stealth assassinations, chemical poisoning, psychological warfare, seduction. Your sniper skills were sharpened on ineffective HYDRA operatives. Seduction tactics were tested on whoever they told you to charm, to spend the night with, just to end them. And the poisons? Whoever lost to you in sparring was your next test subject.

Trigger words were drilled into your mind, engrained so deeply they worked flawlessly:

“Orphaned at dawn” – A reminder that you have no family, you are theirs.

“Sister’s keeper” – Ready to kill.

“Mission complete” – Body immediately collapses after hearing these words, “asleep” until the next order.

The name Y/N L/N was fading. And fast. 

Because, in the eyes of HYDRA, you had become something else entirely.

A weapon.

A fantasy.

A killing machine wrapped in beauty and obedience.

————————

Sharon Carter had been looking for you since the moment you disappeared.

She called Fury. Nothing.

She called Hill. Radio silence.

The Avengers?

They had shut her out entirely. Not to mention her previous bad impression of some of the Avengers, making messes and not being able to clean them up. 

But the moment she saw the press conference—the one where they mourned you like a ghost, a kidnapping victim- something in her clicked.

Sharon knew you like the back of her hand. Knew how you fought. How you thought. How you survived.

And there was no way in hell you were dead.

So she did what she did best.

She went rogue.

Tapping into old SHIELD contacts. Bribing, blackmailing, and interrogating her way through the underbelly of international intelligence and crime.

Until finally— A whisper.

A rumor.

A name buried in the classified databases of mercenary networks: 

HYDRA had you. And they were keeping you.

Murals and “We miss you” shirts with your face on them were already being sold around NYC. 

The world had left you for dead. 

But Sharon Carter never would.

———-

The blonde sat on the cold hardwood floor in her apartment, tired after another late night of asking around and using the people who owed her favors. And maybe a bullet or two. 

   A small, dusty memory box sat at her feet, old photos and trinkets nearly overflowing. She picked out a photo: you, blowing out a birthday cupcake with candles on top that read, “25.” Taken in this very apartment. It felt like years since Sharon had seen you, but that photo was only taken months ago. 

Then, her favorite: the both of you sitting with your arms around each other, the view of city lights in the background of the rooftop. You two must’ve been no older than 16 and 18 at the time. Sharon smiled to herself, a small ache in her chest spreading as she looked at your face- the day you got that mission echoed in her mind like a painful bruise: 

Flashback: The Mission Briefing

The SHIELD base smelled like burnt coffee and gun oil—like it always did. You had been around long enough to recognize the Agents who had been in the field too long—hardened, calculated, every step measured. You wondered, sometimes, if you were becoming one of them.

You weren’t sure how you felt about that.

Fury stood at the front of the briefing room, hands clasped behind his back, his singular eye scanning you like a tactician assessing his next move on the board. The dim light reflected off the smooth, dark table between you, the mission file sitting closed on its surface.

“You’ve proven yourself time and time again, L/N,” Fury started, his voice sharp as ever. “You’re one of our best, no doubt. But this is them.”

You exhaled slowly, crossing your arms as you leaned back in the chair. “You mean the Avengers.”

Fury nodded. “We’ve been working a long game on HYDRA. We’ve dismantled a lot, but we need a closer look inside. A deeper play. You’re gonna be that play.”

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you let the weight of his words settle over you.

A deep cover mission. A long one. Alone.

That didn’t scare you. You had worked solo before. You had taken risks, had been in tight spots, had clawed your way out of them.

But this wasn’t a normal operation. This was the Avengers.

You met Fury’s eye, searching for something in his expression—some tell, some hint at what wasn’t being said. “You really trust me with this?”

Fury didn’t blink. “I trust your skill. I trust your discretion. I trust Coulson, who hasn’t shut up about you for the past damn 10 years. And I trust that you know how to keep yourself alive.”

Before you could agree, a familiar voice cut in from the doorway.

“Y/N.”

Sharon.

She stepped inside, arms crossed, blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail. There was something in her expression—something just a little too guarded. She had been standing there long enough to hear the tail-end of the conversation, and judging by the look she was giving you, she wasn’t thrilled.

You sighed, turning to face her, “Let me guess. You think this is a bad idea.”

Sharon’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I think working for the Avengers is complicated.”

Fury huffed. “That’s one way of putting it.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not working for them. I’m working with them..”

Sharon didn’t look convinced. She walked toward you, voice lower now, more serious. “Y/N… they don’t trust easily. And when they do, they expect things. Loyalty. Transparency.” Her jaw tightened. “And when you can’t give them that…”

She didn’t finish.

She didn’t have to.

You knew what she meant.

Sharon had been there before. She had fought with them, bled with them, even been disillusioned by them. She had seen firsthand what happened when you didn’t fit neatly into their world.

And now, here you were. About to step right into the heart of it.

You swallowed. “I can handle them.”

Fury straightened. “Good.”

Sharon exhaled, watching you carefully. Then, softer: “I know you can. Just be careful with them, okay?”

Something in her voice made you hesitate. Not just worry. Not just concern.

A warning.

You nodded, standing up and grabbing the mission file off the table. “I will.”

Fury straightened. “Then let’s get to work.”

But as you walked out of that room, the mission file tucked under your arm, Sharon’s voice echoed in the back of your mind.

Just be careful with them.

You weren’t sure if she meant the Avengers.

Or yourself.

Now you wish you had listened. 

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

𝐹𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝐴𝑟𝑒 𝑀𝑦 𝑊𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠

pairing: ceo!wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: wanda exploits your weakness for her, and fucks you in her office

content warnings: smut obvi, possessiveness, fingering, thigh grinding, a little bit of choking, slight exhibitionism

word count: 3.3k+

masterlist

‘I miss you, come to my office.’

You smile at your phone, sitting back in your seat as you come up with a response. You quickly turn the brightness down on your screen, fingers typing quickly as you bite your lip slightly. 

“Hey, are you ready to go over some of the procedures?” The voice is slightly grating on your ears, and you quickly delete your response as you lock your screen. Looking up, you see the woman who’s been showing you around all day looking at you with an expectant look on her face. 

Shit, what was her name? 

“Oh! Uh…” You check the time on your phone, noting that the workday had ended for almost everyone else. “Right now? I thought that procedures could wait until tomorrow?”

A condescending smile appears on her face, and you blink in surprise when she starts speaking. “Yeah, right now. It’s typical for newbies to stay late their first few days, just to get you up to speed. That’s ok with you right?”

Your phone dings, the woman’s eyes snap to it. Your fingers tighten around your phone, almost protectively. You huff slightly in annoyance, noticing the way the woman’s eyes linger on your legs, right where your skirt ends mid thigh. 

“Fine, just let me respond to this.”

Looking down, your heart jolts at the message you’d just received. It’s a single word, and sends shivers of nervousness down your spine. 

‘Now.’

Wanda Maximoff was not a woman you wanted to displease. Ever. You'd been on the receiving end of her ire more times than you could count, and although it was always enjoyable, the thought of punishment for disobeying a direct order sent your heart racing. 

The woman - Hailey, you remembered now - moved towards you, her heels clacking on the floor as she pulled a chair next to your desk. You had your phone angled away from her, fingers flying across the keyboard as you tried your best to minimize the punishment you'd surely receive for disobeying. 

‘I’m sorry, I can’t right now. Hailey is going over procedures with me. I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.’

You flip your phone over again, sure that your face is heating up. Your fingers tremble in your lap as you lace them together tightly. Fortunately, Hailey is too focused on not-so-subtly peeking down the front of your low cut shirt to notice your flustered state. You clear your throat, annoyance building as you raise your eyebrows at her. 

Coughing slightly, Hailey pulls out a packet of information and places it in front of you. You flip through the first few pages, groaning internally at the sheer amount of information crammed onto each section. Hailey’s speaking again, her voice high and scratchy. It is nothing like the voice you actually want to hear. 

Just as that thought crosses your mind, your phone dings again, but you force yourself to ignore it. Avoiding eye contact with Hailey, you force yourself to flip to the second page as she drones on. You can practically feel the boredom take over you, your eyes drooping as you relax into your seat. 

Sneaking a glance at your phone, you see that Wanda has sent another message. Suddenly awake, you open your texts and read, your eyes wide. 

‘I thought you wanted to be a good girl?’

Your eyes flick over to Hailey, noticing that she’s now fixating on her laptop, seemingly searching for a specific page in a pdf. You hide your phone between the pages of your packet, typing with one hand while the other nonchalantly rests on the paper. 

‘I am a good girl, just busy rn. I’ll see you later.’

Locking your phone, you try to focus. Hailey’s voice is making your ears bleed, and you constantly find your thoughts wandering to a certain person. More specifically, your girlfriend, who just so happened to be the boss of the current company you worked at. 

A loud noise startled you out of your thoughts, the images of long hair and green eyes fading as you turned to look at Hailey. She snapped her fingers again, right under your nose as your eyes went slightly crossed in an effort to track her movements. 

“Listen, newbie,” She started, her eyes glancing down at your chest. “Just because you’re a personality hire doesn’t mean that you get to slack off, alright?” 

You felt anger rise, your thoughts churning as you glared at her with thinly veiled disgust. You’d actually worked very hard for this job, submitting an application and going through the same interview process as everyone else. Your girlfriend hadn’t actually known that you applied until your resume made its way to her desk along with the other final candidates for the position. 

She’d fucked you in many different positions that night, her praises never ending as you came over and over again. You’d begged her to be fair in the selection process, not wanting to only be hired because she ordered it. Wanda had agreed, saying that she’d refrain from the hiring process altogether for your special case. 

Breathing deeply, trying to calm yourself, you were about to respond to Hailey when your phone buzzed again. 

“Okay, who the fuck is texting you so much.” Hands reach for your phone, but you quickly pull it away. There’s an unimpressed look on Hailey’s face, her palm out as she expectantly glances at your phone. 

You sigh, unlocking your phone to see that Wanda has sent an image along with a message. No way in hell were you letting Hailey see the potential contents of that message. 

“It’s actually our boss.” Your tone is short, your words clipped as you raise a single eyebrow. You pride yourself on mastering your girlfriend’s infamous ‘I’m pissed’ face as Hailey takes in your expression and pales at your words. 

“Wait…” Hailey fumbled her words, trying to remedy the situation. “You have Wanda Maximoff’s phone number?”

You smirk, mindful of how long it's taken you to respond. Any second, Wanda would probably come storming down the hall, wondering what on earth was more important than her. “I do, and I should probably respond soon, don’t you think?”

Hailey waves her hands in a flustered ‘go ahead’ gesture as she ducks her head. You give her one last glance, before angling your phone away and opening the message. 

First you see the photo, an image of Wanda’s fingers splayed out on her desk, contrasting beautifully against the dark wood, her veiny hands catching your attention. You feel yourself flush, nervous butterflies erupting as you glaze at the long fingers and delicate gold rings adorning them. Then, your eyes flit down to the attached message, 

‘Mommy’s fingers miss your pussy, darling. Don’t be a brat.’

You suck in a deep breath, your heart thudding as Hailey looks over at you, craning her neck to try and see your phone. Shooting her a glare, you jolt when another text pings through.

‘If you want to be a good girl, then you can come to my office and suck my fingers. Is she more important than I am?’

You feel lightheaded, and any thoughts of going over procedure with the nosy brunette next to you vanish. You mutter some excuse about how Wanda needed you in her office, and to not wait up for you. Hailey says something, but you wave her off, already packing your bag and walking towards the large doors that lead into Wanda’s office. 

Cursing your girlfriend out in your head, you can’t help the way your thoughts keep returning to that picture of her fingers. You should have known she’d use that against you, and you regretted ever sending her that drunk text. The one where you confessed your obsession with her hands, calling them ‘perfect to suck on’ and telling her you ‘wished she would wrap them around your throat like a necklace’.

Pushing open the heavy door, you make your way inside the dimly lit office. For some odd reason, Wanda didn’t like to use the overhead light, claiming it wasn’t good for her eyes or complexion. You personally didn’t care, as you thought your girlfriend looked good in any lighting. The room smells like vanilla, and the air around you tightens when you finally catch a glimpse of your girlfriend. 

The look on Wanda’s face can only be described as stony. You can tell that she’s upset, only seconds away from unleashing her frustrations upon you, and you waste no time. Setting your bag down near the door and closing it, you quickly walk towards your girlfriend as she slowly moves her chair away from her desk, gesturing for you to sit in her lap. 

You start speaking, your words rapid as you attempt an explanation. “I’m sorry Wanda, I couldn’t get away any sooner. Hailey…” You see a flash of anger in those cold green eyes, and resolve to never mention the girl’s name again. “Um, she was really insistent on going over procedures, and…”

The rambling explanation you’re fumbling through is interrupted by Wanda, her voice holding a dark edge to it as she asks you, “What did you just call me?”

“I’m sorry, mommy.” 

A satisfied look makes its way onto your girlfriend’s face, and you sit on her lap hesitantly. In this position, your face is just inches away from hers, and you can’t help the way your eyes flit down to her lips. 

“Tell me, baby,” Wanda begins, a dangerous look in her eyes as she slowly rolls her chair back towards her desk, trapping you between her and the dark wood. “Does she want what’s mine?”

You bite your lip, knowing that your answer could potentially get Hailey fired. Then, you remember how rude she was and the way her eyes wandered where they shouldn’t have, and the words came rushing out. 

“I mean, yeah. She kept looking down my shirt, and I kept having to tug my skirt down cause her eyes were constantly on my thighs.” The words are quiet, and you watch Wanda carefully for a reaction. Her eyes glint coldly, one of her hands wrapping around your throat as the other digs into your waist. 

“Did she touch you?” 

You can’t help the whimper that escapes you, her sharp words sending a flash of heat through your body. Your clit throbs, and you rush to respond. “No mommy, only you’re allowed to touch me.”

Wanda hums, a small smile appearing on those beautiful lips for a moment. “Good girl.”

“She, um.” You hesitate, Wanda’s hand squeezing your throat tightly at your continued silence. “She also called me a personality hire.”

Green eyes darken, and you know that Hailey will not show up to work the next morning. Or ever again. You try to calm your girlfriend, your hands coming up to cup her cheeks as she looks over your shoulder towards her door, her eyes blazing as different images of Hailey’s wandering eyes worm their way into her possessive brain. 

A whimper sounds out, ringing around the otherwise quiet room as the pressure against your neck becomes too much to handle. Wanda relaxes her grip, pulling her hand away as she leans in. Her lips attach themselves to your throat, her teeth sharp as she sucks dark bruises into your sensitive skin. 

Your moans flow freely, your hands sliding into Wanda’s hair and massaging her scalp as she marks you. When you attempt to roll your hips, needing some friction against your aching core, you find that your waist is thoroughly pinned between Wanda’s body and the desk. 

Long fingers find your lips, and you close your eyes as you wrap your lips around the very thing that you’d been fantasizing about. She presses the digits against your tongue, sliding them in and out of your mouth as you gag slightly, your tongue swirling around them. 

“Are you needy, baby?” Wanda asks after a few minutes, her voice raspy as she finally pulls back from your neck. She can sense your hips attempting to move, and raises an eyebrow at you as you fight to speak around her fingers. After a few moments, she smirks at your pleading look and pulls her fingers out, wiping them on the front of your shirt. 

“Yes, mommy.” You’re breathless, your muscles straining as you fight to keep still against her. 

Wanda smiles wider, rolling back her chair as she nods at you. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Get yourself off on mommy’s thigh.”

You hesitate, wondering if this was a trick. The hand at your waist pushes, and at the feeling of your soaked pussy sliding against her leg, you start moving. Your breaths are shaky, your hands trembling in her hair as you move your hips quickly. 

It doesn’t take long until you’re a moaning mess, your forehead resting on her shoulder as you grind your core against her thigh. You can barely think straight, all your thoughts locked on your impending orgasm as you mindlessly move your hips faster. You feel Wanda’s hand tangle with your hair, and she wrenches your head back. 

Green eyes watch your lips part, a strangled gasp leaving you at the abrupt action. Your hips are still moving, your hands limp around her shoulders as you chase your high. Wanda smiles at the sight of your glossy eyes, soft moans falling from your lips as your wetness spreads on the silky fabric of her pants. 

“Having fun darling?” Wanda’s voice is teasing and you whine. Her tone hardens, her hand squeezing painfully in your hair as she reminds you, “Remember to ask permission to come.”

You know it's a trap, you couldn’t say why, but you knew she wouldn’t give in that easily. Not after you’d ignored her for so long, your attention not solely focused on her. She hated it when someone else caught your attention, and you loved her possessive nature, no matter how much the punishments hurt.

“I want… please, mommy.” You can’t even get out a full sentence, your words broken up by breathy moans. It makes Wanda throb, and she forces your jaw up from where your head had been drooping, wanting those glossy eyes focused on her.

“Touch me,” You begged, your thumb rubbing circles against the back of her neck. “Please touch me mommy, I can’t come without your help.”

This time, it's Wanda who lets out a moan. The sound is low, resonating in her chest as she brings a hand to your pussy. At the first touch of your glistening folds, she’s hooked. She never has been able to resist you, not when you're dripping around her fingers and staring at her with adorably blown pupils. 

“Don’t worry, darling.” Wanda murmurs, letting your head fall against her forehead as she enters you with two fingers, burying them knuckle deep as you whine. “Mommy’s brainless little slut can come however much she wants.”

The words shoot straight to your core, and you know your orgasm is mere seconds away. You frantically press your lips to Wanda’s, sucking and biting as she slips her tongue inside your mouth, deepening the kiss. You attempt to convey your desperation to her, and you think she understands when she nudges your clit with her thumb. 

A few more purposeful touches, and you’re falling apart in her lap. Wanda breaks the kiss, your lips unresponsive as you gasp against her cheek. You shudder, your walls clamping down around her fingers as she continues to thrust into you at a brutal pace. Her fingers curl, and you sense a second orgasm approach while you’re still trembling from the aftershocks of the first one. 

“Wait, mommy. It’s too much, please.” You’re whimpers go unheard, Wanda’s fingers still fucking you deeply as her lips return to your neck. You feel her teeth scrape your collarbone, and another orgasm rips through you when she bites down. 

Your body aches, the sensations overwhelming you in seconds. You’re highly aware of Wanda’s teeth sinking into your collarbone, her lips sucking harshly as you writhe against her. You can feel your juices leaking around her fingers, the once pleasurable heat in your core now agonizingly painful as she slows her thrusts. 

“Mommy…” Your voice is just above a whisper, your breaths shaky as you try and form more words. 

Wanda slips her fingers from you, bringing them up to your parted lips and forcing them into the wet heat of your mouth. She strokes your hair with her other hand, bringing you down as she murmurs, “I know baby, Mommy’s got you.”

Sucking softly, you smile around her fingers dazedly, your eyes slightly unfocused as they bore into Wanda’s. She smiles back, pressing her lips to your forehead, and leaving soft kisses over your damp cheeks as you giggle. 

“Good girl, I’m so proud of you sweetheart. Since you were so good for me, would you like to feel mommy’s strap when we get home?” You nod quickly, your mouth still occupied with her fingers, sucking off your arousal as she watches with darkened eyes. 

Wanda opens her mouth to continue, when a sharp knock on her door stops her. You’re much too hazy to care, all your attention focused solely on your girlfriend. She pulls her fingers from you, kissing you quickly before calling out for the person to enter. 

You jolt, remembering the compromising position you’re in, but strong hands hold your hips still as a warning look appears in Wanda’s eyes. You stare back with wide eyes, and Wanda swivels her chair until she can see the very same employee you’d been complaining about walk in. 

Hailey looks up from the papers in her hand, her eyes widening comically at the sight in front of her. Wanda watches her eyes take in the dark hickeys covering your neck and collarbone, your smudged lipstick and messy hair, before she stammers slightly as she attempts to speak. 

Nothing comes out, her words a strained sort of whimper as her eyes bounce back and forth between Wanda’s satisfied and smug expression, and your submissive, relaxed pose. You look down, an embarrassed flush creeping up the back of your neck as Wanda’s hand rubs soothing circles against your thigh. 

“I’ve heard some interesting things about you.” Wanda says, her words drawn out as she regards the shocked employee standing in her doorway. Hailey’s eyes widen even more than they already are, and she opens and closes her mouth as she tries to find an explanation. 

Wanda tilts her head, and the color drains from Hailey’s face. You shiver, having been on the receiving end of that look before, and you can’t help but pity the poor girl trembling in your girlfriend's doorway. 

“I hope you’ve learned a valuable lesson today,” Wanda begins, her voice low as she grabs your jaw, tilting your head up so Hailey can see the full extent of your hickeys. “That you shouldn’t lust over something that isn’t yours.”

Hailey nods her head so quickly that it looks seconds away from falling off. Wanda waves her hand impatiently, a silent order for the girl to get out of her office. She takes a final look at you as she turns to leave, her eyes apologetic and wide as she grips the papers tightly in her fist, the edges wrinkling under her fingers. 

“By the way,” Wanda begins, stopping Hailey in her tracks. “You’re fired.”

You barely hear the door close, your eyes wide as you turn towards your girlfriend. You can’t help the small smile that appears on your face, your pussy clenching around nothing at the power she’d just shown. 

It’s almost as if Wanda has a sixth sense for you, her senses attuned to your body as if you shared a soul. She drops her eyes to your thighs, smirking as you gently grind down against the dark fabric of her pant leg. A single finger places itself under your chin, and you let your head raise as her green eyes bore into your own.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll give you plenty of orgasms once we get home.”

You can’t fucking wait.

Part Two: The Ultimate Weakness

[screaminglygay]

I get it now

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

summary: wanda refuses to watch arcane - until she secretly does, and suddenly, she knows way too much

warnings: swear words, just some teasing!

word cout: 1.6k

an: hiii!! I’m back… kinda? Is anyone still here? Hehe. It’s my birthday today, so as a little gift, here’s a fun fic for you all! And yes, before you ask, I am still obsessed with Arcane, thank you very much. Enjoy! 💕

“Baby, I love you, but the game is horrible. I’m not gonna watch it.”

Wanda’s voice is soft but firm, the kind of tone that usually means she’s made up her mind. She’s curled up on the couch, her feet tucked beneath her, holding a cup of tea with both hands, since today is very cold day. Her eyes meet yours as you stand before her, hands mid-motion from your very animated explanation.

You freeze. “Okay- no, I mean, yeah. You’re right. The game is… questionable at best, but that’s not the point! The show, Wanda, the show is amazing.”

Wanda exhales a small laugh, shaking her head. “You say that about a lot of shows.”

“Because I have great taste,” you counter immediately, climbing onto the couch beside her. “But this one is different. It’s... it’s like a painting came to life, but with an incredible story, deep characters, and emotional damage.” You start to move your hands around once again.

Wanda quirks an eyebrow, “emotional damage?”

“Yes.” You nod. “The best kind... not the best kind the worst kind actually, but you get me."

She takes a slow sip of her tea, eyes still locked on yours. “Mhm.”

“You’re not convinced.”

“Not even a little.”

You groan, dropping your head onto her shoulder. “Wanda, please. I just want to share this with you. You don’t even have to like it! I just- I want to hear your thoughts. I want to see you react.”

She hums thoughtfully, setting her mug down. “Let me guess. You won’t spoil anything for me, but you will keep talking about it whether I watch it or not?”

“…Yes.”

Wanda chuckles, tilting her head against yours. “Then I guess I’m in for a lot of Arcane talk, huh?”

You lift your head, grinning. “So much. An ungodly amount.”

She sighs, but there’s no real negativity behind it. Just fondness. “I suppose I can live with that.”

You beam at her, leaning in to press a quick, enthusiastic kiss to her cheek. “You’re the best.”

“And yet, still not watching it.”

You huff, flopping dramatically against her. “For now.”

...

And you were right. After listening to you ramble about Arcane night after night, Wanda finally gave in. She told herself it was just curiosity, just a way to see what had you so captivated. It wasn’t good, no, definitely not. But it was interesting. And, let’s be honest, for you? Wanda would burn the whole world down. So watching a show? That was nothing.

Wanda sat on the couch, remote in hand, staring at the Arcane title screen like it had personally offended her.

“God, I better not regret this,” she muttered to herself before pressing play.

At first, she was skeptical. The animation was… different. Not what she expecteed. Yet within minutes, she found herself absorbed. Powder and Vi were adorable, their sisterly bond tugging at something deep in her chest.

“Oh no,” she mumbled when things started going south. “This isn’t gonna end well, is it?”

Then came Vi. Grown-up, all muscle, all attitude. And Caitlyn. When Vi pinned Caitlyn down with that stupidly confident smirk and purred, "You're hot, Cupcake," Wanda’s mouth actually dropped open.

She blinked. Rewound. Watched it again.

“No wonder why (Y/N) likes this show,” she muttered, shaking her head but unable to stop herself from grinning.

And then she kept watching. And watching.

The fights? Incredible. Ekko’s moment with the stopwatch? Breathtaking. Jinx? Oh. Oh. Wanda had to pause for a second, just to take in how heartbreakingly messy and brilliant she was.

Days passed, and she kept sneaking in episodes whenever she could, inching her way through the series. Every time you brought up Arcane, she played it cool, just nodding along, letting you ramble, acting as if she was still clueless.

But inside? Inside, she was counting down the moments until she finished it. Until she could finally drop the act.

And then, one evening, after the final episode rolled credits, she sat back with a satisfied sigh. That’s when she heard the front door open.

She didn’t even realize she was smiling until you walked in, took one look at her, and narrowed their eyes. “What’s going on?”

Wanda quickly wiped the grin off her face. “What do you mean?”

You squinted, stepping closer. “You’re smiling.”

“I just made dinner for my love,” she says casually, gesturing to the kitchen as she stands up, walking there.

You eye her as you set your things down. “Okay… but what´s the reason?”

Wanda just smiles, pulling out your chair for you. “I just missed you very much.”

You narrow your eyes, still not entirely convinced, but your heart flutters at the softness in her voice. "Alright, charmer," you mumble, sitting down.

Dinner is warm, cozy, Wanda asks about your day, listens intently, and there’s something about the way she looks at you tonight that makes you feel like the most important person in the world.

When the plates are empty, you stretch with a satisfied sigh. “You cooked, I’ll clean up.”

Wanda doesn’t argue. Instead, as you start washing the dishes, she drifts toward you, leaning herself against the counter beside you. Close enough that you feel her warmth. Close enough that your brain starts short circuiting just from her presence.

You try to focus on the dishes, but her eyes are on you, her smile teasing.

You swallow. “Alright, seriously. What’s going on?”

And that’s when she leans in, just enough for her voice to drop a little lower, enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“You really think I needed all the guards at the Hexgates?”

Your hands freeze in the soapy water. Your breath catches. Your brain? Completely malfunctions.

Slowly, you turn to her, eyes wide as if she just dropped the biggest plot twist in history.

“Oh my god.”

Wanda just smirks.

“Oh my god.” You grip the edge of the sink, staring at her in shock. “You’ve seen it.”

Wanda laughs softly, and that’s when it fully hits you.

She’s seen it. She’s seen Arcane.

And you? You’re about to lose your damn mind.

Your hands are still frozen in the soapy water, your brain struggling to catch up. “You actually watched it?”

Wanda hums, tilting her head, turning the water off. “Mhm.”

“For real? Like... the whole thing?”

“All of it.”

You gasp dramatically, turning fully to her now, water dripping from your hands. “Okay, okay, thoughts! What did you think? Did you like the animation? What about the fight scenes? And the music?! oh my god, the music- wait, who’s your favorite character? Oh! And what about-”

Wanda places a hand on your arm, squeezing gently. “Slow down, baby.”

You blink up at her, but you’re practically vibrating with excitement. “You do like it, don’t you?!”

Wanda’s lips curl into a smile. “It was good. Really good.”

You let out a tiny, victorious squeak, bouncing on your toes. “I told you! I told you it was amazing!”

Wanda chuckles, crossing her arms as she leans back against the counter. “Mmm. I should’ve known, considering how obsessed you are.” She gives you a look then, one that instantly makes your stomach flip. “Though, I gotta say… After seeing Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, Lest, Mel…” she clicks her tongue. “I’m really not surprised you like it so much.”

Your face burns. “Wanda- ”

“I mean, Vi pinning Caitlyn down? Sevika with her whole arm thing? Mel just existing? Interesting taste you have, sweetheart.”

You cover your face with your hands. “I hate you.”

Wanda laughs, all smug and amused, before gently tugging your hands down so she can see your flustered face. “No, you don’t.”

You huff. “Okay, but who’s your favorite?”

She pretends to think, tapping her chin. “I liked Ekko a lot. But…” She glances at you with a knowing smirk. “Vi was fun to watch.”

You groan. “I knew it.”

Wanda laughs again, leaning in just enough that her lips brush your cheek. “Relax, you’re still my favorite.”

Your face somehow gets even hotter. “Oh my god, stop.”

“Make me,” she teases, grinning as she presses a kiss to your temple.

You swear your brain completely short circuits, and all you can do is melt into her touch, heart full, stomach fluttering, and utterly, utterly in love. Just when you think you’ve recovered from Wanda’s relentless teasing, she tilts her head, pretending to think. “You know… maybe we should also get the hexstrap, no?”

Your entire body locks up.

Your head snaps toward her so fast you’re surprised you don’t get whiplash. “WANDA.”

She just shrugs, all casual, like she didn’t just say that. “What?”

“How do you- how do you even know about that?!” Your voice cracks in the middle, and you feel the heat rush straight back to your face.

Wanda grins, leaning in slightly. “My sweet sweet thing,” she says, voice smooth, “I am on social media.”

You let out the most indignant noise, covering your face again. “I hate it here.”

Wanda’s laughter is absolutely wicked. “I mean, it is a very interesting concept…”

“DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE!”

She just smirks, resting her chin on her hand as she watches you suffer. “What? You don’t want to be my Cupcake?”

You dramatically exhale, “I cannot believe you.”

“Oh, come on,” she purrs, stepping closer, her fingers grazing your arm, “you love that I watched it.”

You let out a high pitched, flustered sound that is absolutely not a whimper. “That is not the point!”

Wanda just leans in even closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “But you do want to get the hexstrap, don’t you?”

You roll your eyes, shoving her playfully. “I am not having this conversation with you!”

Wanda laughs, catching your wrist before you can escape. “Mmm, fine,” pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “For now.”

You groan, head dropping back. “I hate you so much.”

Her lips curl into a smirk. “No, you don’t.”

And unfortunately… she’s absolutely right. You love her. So much.

Spoiler alert: you did received the hextrap later and you loved it.

This was so fun to writ:P thank you for reading!!

[just-aake]

Dyeing to See You Again Part 2

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel to Dyeing to See You Again. Is it reasonable to believe that you would ever see someone who has once again disappeared from your life?

Warnings: light fluff, light angst

Words: 2046

Ohio - 2018 (Before the Snap)

Your fingers fidget with the flip phone in your hand. Only one number is in the contacts of the device. 

Natasha’s

She had given it to you in case of an emergency or any trouble, but at the moment, you’re afraid that she’s the one who’s facing trouble right now.

After Natasha left, you were unable to fall back asleep, the unsettling feeling in your chest remaining despite her comforting and reassuring promises. 

To distract your mind, you decide to start your day early, doing mindless tasks around the home and then the shop when the abrupt news alert brings you to where you are now.

Your finger hovers above the call button hesitantly, your brows creased in worry as you return your attention to the tv. 

The news shows the devastation of the attack on the streets of New York earlier today, followed by the announcement of the disappearance of Tony Stark.

There’s no mention of any of the other Avengers, so you hoped that meant Natasha wasn’t there. 

However, there hasn't been any new information for hours now. 

You watch as the news anchor repeats the same things once again.

“Relief and emergency personnel are still on the scene, finding and tending to the injured. We’ll continue to provide updates as the situa—”

You stand up in shock as the person on the screen suddenly disintegrates into dust, disappearing from before your eyes. Immediately, the newsroom dissolves into a clamor of panic and screams.

Then the screen goes black.

Your paralyzed reflection stares back at you as you try to understand what just happened. 

Recovering from the shock, you quickly press the call button without hesitation, needing to contact Natasha.

You begin to pace anxiously as the phone rings. When the line goes to voicemail, you bring your other hand up to press against your lips in a nervous gesture when you freeze.

The automatic voicemail message plays in your ear as you watch your raised hand slowly disappear.

Swallowing hard at the sight, you release a shaky breath as the phone beeps. 

You try to keep the fear out of your voice as you speak, hoping that Natasha is okay and will hear your message.

Soon after, the phone drops to the ground with a thud, the salon now empty of any presence.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The atmosphere in the quinjet during the ride back to the Avenger Compound is somber and silent as the remaining members of the team attempt to recover from their loss. 

Everyone dragged themselves defeatedly through the compound to the communal area where Steve decided to address the group.

“Be prepared to move soon. We need to check how much damage and effect Thanos caused and see who else is…” Steve trails off, his hands tightening into fists against the table.

“Gone,” Thor finishes for him, slumping into one of the chairs, continuing solemnly. “They’re all gone.”

“We don’t know that,” Steve stresses.

The others began to speak up with their comments and opinions. 

All but one. 

Natasha strides silently past everyone, heading directly to her room. Without pause, she goes straight to the bag she had yet to unpack since returning to the compound after rescuing Wanda and Vision.

Her hands are shaking as she rummages around, trying to find what she’s looking for before ultimately turning the bag upside down and dumping all of the contents onto the table. 

The flip phone finally appears, sliding to a stop at the edge of the table.

Natasha quickly grabs and opens the device. 

A message pops up on the screen, stating she has one new voicemail. 

Her eyes lock on the time that it was sent, and she swallows nervously upon realizing when you had called her.

Hesitantly, Natasha presses the button to play the voicemail and raises the phone to her ear to listen. 

A shaky breath comes through the static, and then she hears your voice.

I love you, Natasha

A thud follows soon after before the voicemail goes silent and ends.

Painful fear grips Natasha’s heart as she pulls the phone in front of her, desperately scanning the screen for any additional messages from you. Finding nothing, she immediately presses the call button. 

“Come on,” Natasha whispers urgently to herself. “Pick up, Y/n. Please pick up.”

The phone seems to ring endlessly before eventually going to voicemail. 

Natasha presses the call button again.

And again.

Time passes in a blur.  

Eventually, her door opens, and without looking up from her crouched position on the ground, Natasha knows who it is.

She keeps the phone clutched tightly in her hand, pressed against the top of her head defeatedly. Its screen displays the numerous failed call attempts to you.

“We need to get them back,” Natasha states determinedly, looking up, her eyes still glistening with tears. “Whatever it takes.”

“We will,” Steve promises.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Ohio - 2023 

You let out a surprise gasp as you watch the surroundings change around you. 

Your salon is now empty of its products and supplies, and the chairs and counters are covered with sheets, protecting them from the layer of dust accumulating on top.

It looked as if nobody had been in here for some time.

Remembering what you were doing earlier, you brush off the disorienting condition of the room and search around, trying to find the burner phone to contact Natasha, but you find that you don’t see it anywhere.

Confused, you wonder if you may have left it at home. Stepping out of the shop, you are met with people on the streets and sidewalk, some with surprised exclamations and others with confused expressions like yours.

Eventually, you find out what actually happened. 

The blip. 

The five years lost.

The death of Tony Stark.

And of Natasha

That’s the only news you heard about her since your return.

With the Compound gone and no way to contact any of the other Avengers, you know as much as any other ordinary civilian.

Despite it all, this feeling of not knowing is not new to you. 

After all, Natasha had done the same thing when you were younger, disappearing without a trace. And against all odds, you had the chance to see her again.

Who's to say this time is any different?

So, you wait. 

You try to return to your usual routine of life from before and you wait, holding onto the hope that the people who truly mean something to you will return.

One evening, as you’re going to take out the trash, you open your door and pause in surprise when you see a familiar red-haired girl standing there.

Her hands are clasped in front of her, fidgeting slightly with nervousness, and her expression carries the same apprehension as when you first met her, though now her eyes appear more haunted and wounded than before.

“Am I still welcome here?” Wanda asks hesitantly.

You invite her inside with a warm smile, offering her a safe refuge in your home.

You’ve heard about the rumors and gossip of the events surrounding Westview and what supposedly happened there.

However, you’re not one to judge or speak about things you don’t fully understand, so you don’t bring it up in any of your conversations with her.

Over time, Wanda tells you about the final battle. 

About the things she learned from the others during the missing years. 

About Natasha’s sacrifice.

The knowledge of what happened fills you with sadness, yet you still cling to the hope in your heart.

When Wanda decides to leave one day, you give her the location of a cabin in a remote area that belonged to one of Natasha’s secret stashes of safe houses. 

You’re sure if Natasha was here, she would’ve wanted to provide Wanda with someplace safe.

Some time after, one morning, as you approach your shop, you spot a blonde-haired girl peeking through the window, examining the building curiously.

Her face looks familiar, and you try to recall where you remember her from before your eyes widen slightly in realization.

“Yelena?”

She turns around at your call, scrutinizing you critically, before relaxing her tense posture.

“Now I understand why Natasha spent all of her time in this area.”

You invite her inside, and the two of you bond over your shared memories of Natasha. 

Though Yelena was young when she lived undercover as your neighbor, she tells you that she remembers you and your friendship with Natasha. 

Of how happier Natasha became after you entered her life. 

In return, you share with Yelena about all the things Natasha told you about her and about how much she loves her little sister. You tell her how Natasha’s blue hair when she was younger was supposed to be blonde because Natasha wanted to match with Yelena’s, and how she chose to go blonde after their reunion. 

After reminiscing about the woman you both love, Yelena tells you about the tombstone dedicated to Natasha at the cemetery near your old home, surrounded by flowers, gifts, and messages from everyone who loved and valued her.

Your heart both breaks and warms at the thought.

That information should have been enough for anyone to give up and find peace with Natasha’s fate.

But you can’t. 

Natasha had promised you that she would return, and you had promised to be here when she did.

So, you wait and you hope.

A year passes by in a blur, and you’ve somewhat returned to the simple life you had before. 

Things in the world also return to normal with the exceptions of the usual news alerts of aliens, alternate dimensions, time travel, and magic. Hearing all of that, anyone would believe that anything is possible in this universe.

It was one late evening when the bell above the door chimes lightly. 

“Sorry, we’re closed,” you say, without looking up.

A sharp intake of breath echoes in the room, followed by a pause before a voice asks, “Even for me?”

You drop everything in your hand, freezing at the familiar voice. 

Turning slowly, your eyes fall upon her face, a small smile gracing her lips. Her hair is longer now with the return of her signature red color and a hint of blonde at the ends.

A shaky exhale escapes from her as Natasha looks at you too with a fond gaze, as if also trying to memorize every feature of your face. She swallows hard and greets.

“Hey, Y/n.”

“Hey,” you reply instinctively in a breathless whisper, moving slowly closer as tears form at the corners of your eyes. 

Stopping in front of her, you reach up slowly to touch her face, still in disbelief at the sight of her, but you pause in your action, searching her eyes. 

For you, it’s been over a year since you last touched her, but you know it must’ve been much longer for her.

Natasha nods, giving you the reassurance you need.

One of your hands gently cradles her cheek, and she leans into your touch, her eyes closing as a peaceful expression forms on her face and she releases a soft breath of relief. 

Your other hand moves to her hair, your fingers gliding through the strands with a sad smile, and you take a deep breath to choke back the tears threatening to spill.

“Your hair’s two different colors,” you comment lightly.

Natasha lets out a sad chuckle at your words and opens her eyes to meet yours, giving you a tiny teasing smile.

“Well, you said you had a soft spot for redheads. I figured you’d like me better if you saw me like this when you return.”

You can’t help but laugh softly in disbelief as you bury yourself into her, unable to hold back the sobs anymore at the fact that she’s here. 

Natasha wraps her arms around you tightly, her head tucked close against you. She presses a soft kiss against your head and whispers, “I’m sorry it took so long.”

You shake your head at her apology, replying firmly, “You came back. That’s all that matters.”

Her arms tighten around you, pulling you closer as if afraid to let go.

“I’d do anything to see you again.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Thank you for reading! Initially, I didn't have a part 2 for this, but you all liked the first part, so I wanted to give them a happier ending.

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (8 - The Other Side)

Chapter Summary: After a drone attempts to eliminate her in her own home, Wanda emerges from the Hex to give Hayward's team their only warning. You, on the other hand, is left to figure things out on your own. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3.2k+ | Chapter Tags/Warnings: None

A/N: I know what we've established in the previous chapters, so hold onto your seats. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

They reach the Command Center just in time to see Hayward’s plan laid bare: eliminate Wanda Maximoff. It’s not surprising—they’d suspected as much after days camped outside the anomaly—but now it’s undeniable. Hayward wasn’t stalling or hesitating; he was waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The operation is set to launch in sixty seconds. Too little time to stop it, even with a former Avenger in the room. Clint doesn’t believe for a second that Hayward’s plan will succeed—Wanda isn’t just powerful, she’s impossibly powerful—but he knows letting this play out unchecked will only make things worse. If they don’t intervene, the attack will escalate, pushing Wanda further into anger and fear, and the walls of her Hex will only grow stronger.

“What the hell is this?” Monica demands, pushing past agents to get closer.

On the screens, live drone footage hovers ominously above Wanda's house within the Hex.

Hayward barely glances at her. “We're taking a proactive approach.”

Clint shakes his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. “He’s about to poke a bear with a stick, and we’re all gonna feel it.”

“Hayward!” Monica yells, catching the attention of everyone in the room, but Hayward pays her no heed.

Darcy, meanwhile, frantically taps her tablet then sighs in frustration. “I can’t override the launch. He’s locked everyone out.”

Jimmy heads toward the console center, but suddenly two agents step in front of him, hands resting on their holstered guns.

“Maybe we can warn Wanda?” Darcy surmises.

“There’s no time,” Clint says grimly. 

On the monitors, they see Wanda stepping out of her home, carrying a bag of garbage to the curb. The drone's camera zooms in, locking its target.  You follow her outside, noticing the drone immediately. 

“Wanda?” you murmur, looking up at the night sky where the drone's signal lights blink like distant stars. “What is that?”

“Y/N, get back inside,” Wanda says in that low, dangerous tone—familiar somehow, even though you can't recall ever hearing it before. Instinctively, you feel the urge to protect her, even though between the two of you, you're the one more likely to get hurt in situations like this.

Outside, they watch in shock as you step in front of your wife, despite her urging you to flee back inside the house. Panic surges through Monica in particular, realizing the potential casualties might not be just one, but two. And who knows how powerful the missile inside that drone is? There are kids sleeping soundly in your home, for God's sake!

“She's not a threat! You're making a huge mistake—”

“Take the shot,” Hayward commands the drone control team.

“Hayward, please!” Monica implores, her plea causing the operator's hand to waver, hesitating for just a fraction of a second. “Look, she's not alone! You're putting civilians at risk—”

That hesitation shreds the last of Hayward's patience. “Take the shot now!” he bellows.

“No!” Monica shouts, lunging forward, but agents hold her back.

Clint also rushes forward, but more agents block his path.

On the screens, a blinding flash of light erupts, then everything turns to static. Around the room, faces turn white as everyone exchanges uneasy looks, silently wondering if they've just caused a catastrophe. The Command Center is dead silent, charged with a nameless fear that grips everyone like a vise.

Then, an agent strides in, panic etched across his face. “Sir, we've got a breach.”

Clint exchanges a look with Monica. “She's coming,” he says quietly.

—

It all happened too fast.

One moment, you’re standing beside Wanda, braced for whatever threat the drone overhead might bring. Then, in the blink of an eye, everything changes.

You’re alone, standing in front of your house.

“Wanda!” you cry out. Panic clenches your chest like a vice as your eyes dart wildly across the empty street. She has to be around here somewhere. She has to be safe.

You race back inside the house, but you’re careful not to make too much noise this time and wake up the twins upstairs. The house is still. Dinner is still spread across the counter, the kitchen light still glowing, but there’s no trace of your wife.

Rushing back outside, you scan the street, looking for any sign of movement. A few houses down, you spot Agnes in her front yard and—weirdly enough—watering her plants like it’s any other night.

You jog over. “Agnes, have you seen Wanda?”

She looks up, startled, then smiles. “Oh, hey! Haven’t seen her. Everything alright?”

“I don’t know,” you say, trying to keep the trepidation out of your voice. “She was just here, and now she’s gone.”

Agnes cocks her head, her smile fixed in place, unfazed, like the world around her isn’t fraying at the edges. Like this—all of this—is perfectly normal. You thought you could handle it, that you’d made peace with the strangeness of everything, but right now, it’s making your skin crawl.

“I’m sure she’s fine, dear. You know Wanda—always off doing something,” Agnes says, light and casual, like she’s commenting on the weather.

“Yeah, I guess,” you mumble, though the assurance does little to ease your mind as your eyes continue to frantically wander, hoping against hope that Wanda might suddenly step out from one of them, smiling like none of this ever happened.

But she doesn’t.

You start walking back toward the house. She’s fine. She’s fine. She’s not fine. The rhythm builds and builds inside you like boiling water, until the panic buzzing at the base of your skull becomes impossible to ignore.

At the driveway, you stop. For one long, stretched-out moment, you hesitate. Then instinct takes over.

Your hand digs into your pocket, fingers curling around the cold metal of your car keys. You’re already moving, already yanking open the car door before you’ve fully decided what you’re going to do.

Just as you’re about to climb in, Agnes appears, moving faster than you’ve ever seen her move before, her cardigan flapping around her like wings.

“Where are you going?” she demands, breathless.

“I'm going to look for my wife.”

Agnes frowns. “Look for her where?”

“I don't know,” you sigh, one hand braced on the car door, the other gripping the keys tight enough to leave imprints on your palm. “But I'll scour the ends of this town if I have to.”

—

At the southern boundary of Westview, Hayward's men are already assembled, a line of armed agents standing at attention with their weapons trained on the elusive barrier of the Hex. The alarms continue to blare. They don’t know what’s coming, but they’re all on the front lines, waiting to find out.

Clint hangs back, his expression grim as he waits for Wanda. He hadn’t expected the girl they’d practically adopted from Sokovia to still carry so much darkness—a side of her that rears its head through the cracks when she’s at her lowest. 

He can't stop questioning why you ever chose to let Wanda believe you’re dead.  But he figures that’s your burden to bear. His own regret is not being there for Wanda after Tony’s funeral. With Vision also gone, he feels he should have stayed closer.

Part of him can’t shake the feeling that he’s failed her somehow.

For Clint, it had been five long years of grieving for the family he thought he’d lost forever. Once he was reunited with them, all he wanted was to put his Avenger days behind him and catch up on lost time, which he did. But when he heard about Wanda's situation in New Jersey, he couldn't just stay away. Steve and Nat would’ve done the same.

The barrier sparks like a live wire as a shadow begins to materialize behind it. Moments later, everyone watches with bated breath as Wanda Maximoff steps through, dragging the drone behind her with one hand. She strides ominously forward, indifferent to the dozen infrared lasers trained on her body.

“Is this yours?” Wanda yells. Without waiting for an answer, she flings the drone, sending it crashing down toward Hayward's feet. It skids across the coarse grass, stopping just short of him.

“The missile was just a precaution,” Hayward says coolly. “You can hardly blame us, Wanda.”

“Oh, I think I can.”

Clint chooses this moment to reveal himself among the crowds. He’s not sure whether it will placate Wanda or anger her further, but he knows he has to try—not for their benefit, but for hers.

“Wanda,” he calls out gently. 

“Clint,” Wanda breathes out, taken aback. For a second, she looks stunned, as if the thought of someone from her old circle stepping in hadn't crossed her mind. They know her, understand her motives—or at least, they should. “So they sent you, too?”

“No one sent me,” he assures her, taking another careful step closer. “I came because I was worried about you.”

“Funny way of showing it,” she scoffs, nodding toward the agents with their weapons drawn.

Monica steps out from behind one of the vehicles, hands raised in a placating gesture. “Wanda."

Recognition dawns on Wanda’s face, her lips curling into a half-amused, half-impressed smile. After how forcefully she ejected Monica from Westview, she hadn't expected her to come back.

“You’re still here,” she mutters warily.

“Please, let’s just talk,” Monica urges. 

“Not interested.”

“We want to help you through this, Wanda,” Clint tries.

Wanda lets out a hollow laugh. “Help me? Like you helped me after everything was taken from me?” After the funeral, they all went their own way—back to work, back to their families. And Wanda had—

She had no one to go back to. 

“I’m sorry,” Clint murmurs, his eyes dropping to the ground. “I should've been there. I'm sorry.”

Wanda purses her lips. “Sorry doesn't bring them back.”

Monica walks up to Clint’s side. “I know what it's like to lose someone. To feel that emptiness.”

Wanda’s voice becomes a cold whisper. “You don't know anything about me.”

Clint stops for a moment, the implication of her words just occuring to him. “Wait. Them?”

Wanda doesn’t answer him. With a simple wave of her hand, Hayward’s snipers, who had their sights on her, suddenly swivel their rifles toward him instead. He instantly throws up his hands in surrender.

“This will be your only warning,” Wanda says coldly. “Stay out of my home.”

“Wait!” Clint tries again, but it’s too late. Wanda has already turned away. 

Hayward's arms stay in the air, a stricken look on his face as he orders his men to stand down, but not a single one of them listens. They only manage to snap out of it the moment the Hex re-absorbs Wanda Maximoff.

—

You do exactly what you told Agnes you'd do and drive toward the edge of town.

As you go, things start getting…weirder. The farther you get from the center, the stranger things become. People are outside their homes, but they're not moving. A woman hangs laundry on a line, her arms frozen mid-air. A kid stands with a basketball, paused in the act of dribbling. They are like living statues.

“What the hell is going on?” you mutter under your breath, your knuckles white against the steering wheel. You ease the car to a stop by the curb, with only the sound of the running engine the other sign of life aside from you. 

Cautiously, you approach the frozen figures for closer inspection. They're not just still—they're vacant. Their eyes stare straight ahead, unfocused and glassy, like mannequins propped up in a storefront window. You wave a hand in front of a man's face, but he doesn't blink.

Stumbling back, fear rises in you. “Wanda!”

But there's no answer. There’s only your own labored breathing. No birds soar overhead, no butterflies flit through the gardens—none of the life you’re accustomed to near your home. There’s not even a whisper of wind. It feels like the air’s been sucked out of the place.

You get back in the car and keep driving. Houses thin out, streets get emptier. Soon, you're at the town's edge. That's when you see it—a faint shimmer in the void ahead. It ripples subtly, like a mirage or heat haze.

Frowning, you park and walk toward the strange phenomenon. As you go nearer, you see sparks dancing through a grid-like pattern. Reaching out cautiously, you touch it, and a jolt runs up your arm. It’s not painful, but it’s definitely not welcoming either. 

“What the hell is this?” you whisper.

Without fully thinking it through, you decide to push forward. There's resistance at first, like walking through thick mud, but suddenly you break through.

On the other side, the world is completely different.

—

Wanda returns home, closing the door softly behind her and letting out a quiet sigh.

She sinks onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. The sheer force of the urge she'd felt—to just wipe them all out, to eliminate any threat to her family—left her shaken. It wasn't like her, or at least she didn't think it was. She knows if that drone had reached you before she intervened, she would have pulled the trigger. The darkness that surged up inside her scared her. Is this who she's becoming? Perhaps being a bit hardened is necessary if it means keeping you and the boys safe. After all, being innocuous only ever stripped away everything she held dear.

She tries to shake it off, taking a deep breath as she makes her way upstairs. First things first: check on the twins. Pushing open their bedroom door, she finds them fast asleep, the steady rise and fall of their chests bringing her a small measure of peace. They're safe.

But as she moves through the house, calling your name, she realizes you're nowhere to be found. Trying to keep her cool, she steps outside, only to find the neighborhood just as empty and silent.

Except for Agnes, who's out watering her garden at a very unusual hour.

“Agnes?” Wanda calls out as she walks over.

Agnes looks up, a friendly smile on her face. “Hey, neighbor! Can’t sleep either?”

“Have you seen Y/N?”

Agnes hums, thinking it over. “Actually, I did see her earlier.”

“You did? When? Where did she go?”

“Just a little while ago,” Agnes replies casually. “She mentioned she was heading to the edge of town to look for you.”

Color drains from Wanda's face. “She went to the boundary?”

“Yes, she seemed quite determined—”

Without waiting for Agnes to finish, Wanda turns abruptly. She rises off the ground, levitating effortlessly. She doesn't care if Agnes sees her powers or if anyone else is watching. The only thing that matters now is getting to you before it’s too late.

“Please be okay,” she murmurs under her breath, repeating it like a mantra, synced to the frantic beating of her heart.

—

Dozens of people in black uniforms, faces smudged with exhaustion, stand scattered across a patchwork base of canvas tents, armored vehicles, and machinery that doesn’t belong in a small town like Westview. They freeze when they see you—every single one of them—like you’re a ghost that wandered in from the wrong side of reality.

“T-There’s another breach!” someone yells.

You just stand there, blinking at the sea of wide eyes staring back at you. “Who are you people? What’s going on?”

No one answers. They just watch.

And then it starts.

A sensation creeps over your skin, wrong in a way that defies language. Static under your fingernails, pins and needles crawling up your veins.  You glance down. Your hands are flaking away, little particles peeling off like you’re made of burnt paper.

“What the—?”

Your vision tilts. The sky feels too far away, the ground too close. The disintegration spreads—up your arms, across your chest. You hear someone shouting in the distance.

“Someone help her! She’s clearly dying!”

“Hold your ground!”

Then, through the noise, you hear it. “Y/N!” your name being called by the same voice you caught in Wanda’s broken radio.

You reach out blindly, trying to grab onto something as you continue to come apart, but your knees buckle, and you hit the ground. 

It feels like you're dying.

But why? Why is this happening?

Seconds later, you can't even hold yourself up anymore. You collapse onto all fours, watching helplessly as pieces of you start to drift away like dust in the wind.

“Wanda…” you whisper, and then everything around you goes dark.

—

Wanda senses it first—a noticeable diminishment of your presence where it used to be strong, as if a part of her is fading away with it. A sense of dread fills her as she looks toward the edge of town. From her vantage point above Westview, she spots your car abandoned near the boundary with its headlights still on.

“No,” she breathes, her eyes turning red as she tries to search for you past the invisible barrier.

Desperation propels her forward as she flies toward you, the wind whipping through her hair. But no matter how fast she moves, she feels you slipping away, bit by bit. 

That’s when she spots you, lying on the ground, crumbling the way she did five years ago.

“No, no, no,” Wanda cries, pushing herself to go faster. But deep down, she knows she won't reach you in time.

She stops mid-air. There's only one thing left to do. Closing her eyes, she gathers every ounce of her power. Scarlet energy crackles around her hands, growing brighter and more powerful. With a fierce cry, she releases it, sending a surge of magic outward.

The Hex trembles and then starts to expand, pushing outward. Houses, trees, streets—all get swallowed as the boundary moves to encompass more area. The strain is immense, but she doesn't care. All that matters is pulling you back, keeping you within the safe confines of the world she's created. Tears blur her vision, but she keeps her focus, watching as the red glow envelops your car, hoping it's not too late.

“Come back to me,” Wanda murmurs, willing the Hex to bring you home.

—

“Where are you going?” Monica calls after Clint, chasing him down as he strides toward his truck. Behind them, the team is scattered, hollow-eyed and dazed—they just watched you stumble out of the Hex, your body coming apart like sand slipping through an hourglass. Morale isn’t just low; it’s subterranean. Hayward's back at the S.W.O.R.D. base, probably scheming his next move, but right now, everyone’s flailing in the dark.

Clint digs through his pockets for his keys. “There’s something I need to check out,” he mutters.

“Like what? Does it have to do with… whatever that was?” Monica asks, her voice strained. “With Darcy gone into the Hex, Jimmy and I are—honestly, I don’t even know what we’re supposed to do.”

“I can’t explain yet. Not until I know for sure,” he says, avoiding her gaze. He's racked with a hit of guilt for leaving Monica in the lurch, especially when she and Jimmy are already scraping by without Darcy.

But he swears he’s leaving for a reason.

Monica nods, her face drawn. “Are you coming back?”

Clint exhales, long and slow. “I was hoping this would clear up fast. But it doesn’t look good. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Be careful out there,” she says, her voice quieter now.

“You too. Stay sharp.”

Before Monica can head back to camp, Clint beeps his truck, pulling her attention back. She turns, looking over her shoulder and waits.

“Deep down, Wanda’s a good person, you know?” Clint says, unsure of his point but feeling compelled to speak up for Wanda.

Monica gives him a small, tired smile before walking away.

[gingiesworld]

Ghost

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 5.3k+

AN: Hey guys, this fic is going to be a small series.

Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

Ghost was always that one assassin that would always just elude the Avengers, everytime they would think they had Ghost within their grasp, Ghost would just disappear, leaving behind a string of bloody corpses, but no traces that would help the Avengers figure who they were up against.

“This is the fourth one in two weeks.” Nat observed as she knelt over the bloody corpse of a Senator. “And they all work for the government in some way.” Steve walked around the room, his eyes searching for anything that could aid in capturing the assassin.

“They’re good.” Clint stated as he looked at Nat. “They’re better than you ever were, Romanoff.”

“I don’t care if they’re good at covering their tracks.” Steve told them firmly. “This is the fourth government official in a fortnight, and we don’t even know why they are targeting these people.”

“Do we know if they are all connected in some way?” Nat questioned as she rose to her feet.

“Tony is doing a thorough background search on each of them, delving into every aspect of their lives that they didn’t want anyone to know.” Steve told her. “There isn’t anything different in the killings, they were all murdered in the exact same way.”

“Maybe we could see if we can find some sort of calling card, you know like most serial killers leave behind.” Clint questioned as Nat shook her head no.

“They have never left a single thing behind, no fingerprints, footprints or any form of DNA that would help us even find them.” She told him, her hands resting on her hips as she looked around the room carefully. “That is why they are known as Ghost, they kill quietly but leave nothing behind but a message.”

“But what is the message?” Steve pondered as he looked at the only entrance to the room. “There is no sign of forced entry, so either they picked the lock or the people knew who they were.”

“Cameras?” Clint questioned as Nat shook her head no.

“All of them are disabled so we have no footage of them entering or leaving the building.” She told him.

“Then how are we supposed to find this person if there are no breadcrumbs to follow?” Clint questioned.

“I don’t know, but we have to head back, Fury will be waiting for a briefing on this.” Steve told them both, leading them out of the building. The journey back to the compound was silent, all three of them racking their brains for anything they may have missed, or anyone who could be behind these assassinations. “I’ll go and brief Fury, Nat can you see where Tony is on his background checks?” Nat nodded before she headed down towards the lab, finding Tony sipping coffee as ACDC blasted through the room as he looked at the screen before him.

“Have you found any connections?” She asked him as she stood behind him.

“So far?” He questioned as she nodded. “Not much, some of them have had some DUI’s, our very own Senator Green even has a restraining order up against him.”

“Who ordered the restraining order?” Nat questioned as she combed through the information laid out on the screen.

“His ex wife.” He answered her. “But she doesn’t exactly have the funds to pay for a hit out on him, let alone she has no motive against the others.”

“So we are still at nothing.” Nat groaned as Tony grinned.

“Not exactly, with the other three, they found a piece of paper with some sort of quote.” He told her, getting the picture of the calling card up. “Snakes hide in grass, people behind their lies.”

“What does that even mean?” She questioned as Tony shrugged.

“I don’t know exactly, but it's the same quote each time.” He told her. “It’s kind of like whoever this Ghost is, they are trying to send a message, but I haven’t quite figured that out just yet.”

“Was there any prints or anything on the card?” She asked him, sighing when he shook his head no.

“There’s nothing, the card is clean, there isn’t even a way for me to track the manufacturer either.” He told her.

“Okay, just keep looking for anything else.” She told him before she headed towards the door.

“It’s not like I have anything better to do.” He spoke sarcastically as he continued to comb through the information he had. Nat soon made her way into the kitchen, finding both Wanda and Yelena arguing over food.

“Natasha, tell her that macaroni and cheese is better than paprikash.” Yelena bombarded her as soon as she saw her older sister.

“Mac and Cheese isn’t exactly the healthiest option.” Wanda told her.

“No, but it’s the tastier option.” Yelena told her.

“How would you know, you smother it in hot sauce every time. You can’t even smell the cheese or anything else.” Wanda told her as she continued to prepare dinner for the team.

“You two are children.” Nat chuckled as she grabbed herself a bottle of water.

“Is there any news on this Ghost?” Yelena asked as she reached into the cupboard for a box of mac and cheese.

“Nothing, other than some quote they keep leaving behind.” She told them both. “Snakes hide in grass, people behind their lies.”

“Snakes hide in grass, people behind their lies.” A voice sounded beside Wanda, making her jump slightly as she watched her brother get tested.

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” She questioned as they just smirked at her.

“Not everything is as it seems here.” They told her before walking away.

“Are you okay, Wanda?” Nat questioned, a look of concern in her eyes as Wanda dropped the pot, its contents spilling out onto the floor.

“Yeah.” She whispered as she moved to clean up her mess, their blue irises and voice surrounding her every thought. “It’s just I’ve heard someone say that to me before.”

“Who?” Nat questioned her, her full attention on Wanda.

“Y/N.” She told them. “They used to be an agent working for Hydra at the Sokovia facility, but this can’t be them, they died.”

“How do you know they died?” Yelena asked her, Wanda took in a shaky breath.

“They died in my arms.” Wanda told her. “I watched as they bled out, I watched as life left their eyes.”

“Who were they to you?” Nat questioned as Wanda wiped her eyes.

“They were a friend, they protected me.” She told them. “Being a female volunteer within Hydra, most of their agents being men with their own agendas and sick minds, they made sure I was never hurt by any of them.”

“Do you know their surname?” Nat questioned.

“Y/L/N.” Wanda answered her.

“Thank you Wanda.” Nat gave her a soft smile before she headed back towards Tony’s lab hastily. “Can you do a background search on Y/N Y/L/N?” She asked him.

“Of course, but why?” He questioned as he got to work, Nat had explained everything she had just learned from Wanda. “So do you think this Ghost could be this Hydra Agent?”

“I’m not sure, but something seems off about this whole thing.” Nat told him.

“Agent Y/N Y/L/N, they were Strucker’s right hand.” He read out, Nat’s eyes scanning their picture as she read over their details. “Deceased.”

“Does it say how they died?” She questioned as Tony continued his search.

“They were shot multiple times.” He told her. “They were an accessory, aiding the twins escape before we detained Strucker.”

“Wanda and Pietro volunteered thinking Hydra were helping Sokovia.” Nat mumbled as she paced the lab, muttering the phrase they had recently learned. “So, in a way they were even warning Wanda about Hydra in their own cryptic way. They knew exactly what Hydra’s agenda was, they knew the true intention of global domination.” She paused for a moment before turning to face Tony. “Do you think that this may be a warning?” She questioned.

“A warning for what?” He asked her.

“Hydra still exists, they’re trying to regain their power.” She stated as Tony shook his head no.

“We destroyed Hydra, we took down all of their remaining bases after Sokovia.” He told her. “It’s impossible.”

“Just think about it.” She urged him. “Hydra had their claws within SHIELD, Pierce, Rumlow and other double agents. We don’t exactly know if they have their claws deep within the American government.”

“So you think these victims are all Hydra?” He questioned with a light chuckle, soon stopping when he noticed Natasha’s serious expression. “They’re all Hydra.” He whispered, soon turning to his screen, typing away. “Those bastards.” He pulled up some old press photos of each of the victims, sighted with Pierce himself. “Every single one of the victims are there.”

“Do you think you can maybe identify any other possible targets?” She questioned. “Maybe if we can find a pattern, we may be able to narrow down the next target and intercept Ghost.”

“I’ll try.” He told her, starting a facial recognition search on the other people in the picture.

“Maybe put out a search for anyone who fits Y/N’s description.” She told him.

“But they’re dead.” He told her, rubbing his eyebrow.

“I am finding that hard to believe right now.” She told him honestly. “How many times have all of us here been on death's door, just look at the tech we also have in the medical field, it’s all high tech, making it a possibility that maybe someone who found Y/N’s body had saved them.” She soon left to find Steve, notifying him of the new information they have recently found. “Tony’s going to call us as soon as he finds out who the next target could be.”

“Then we will need to have the whole team ready for this.” Steve stated as the two walked towards the briefing room. “If we have a chance at catching this Ghost, we are going to need all of our strengths to even try and take them down.”

“Why do you always stay near me?” Wanda questioned as she sat in her cell.

“Believe it or not, I want to keep you safe.” They told her honestly. “I know what most of these agents are capable of, what they think of and I don’t want any of them to do something untoward under my watch.” They told her honestly.

“If you’re not like the others, why do you work here?” She questioned, her eyes searching theirs.

“Unfortunately, I was taken when I was younger.” They told her. “I used to have a family, back home in England, but I watched as they were all murdered before I was taken. I was trained by one of the most notorious Agencies in Europe. It’s known for training mostly young women into becoming assassins, but Hydra made a deal with the Red Room. They wanted the ultimate agent, able to do anything that was asked of them.”

“I’m sorry.” Wanda whispered sadly as Y/N shook their head with a small smile.

“It’s okay, I made my peace that my life wasn’t my own a long time ago.” They told her softly. “But, we can try and get you and your brother your lives back.”

“How?” She questioned as they pressed their finger to their lips, silencing her.

“In time, I will help you both.” They whispered. “I just need to devise a perfect plan to get you both out of here.” With that they left the cells, leaving Wanda alone and in darkness.

“So, do we have anything more?” Steve questioned as he entered Tony’s lab with Natasha.

“We do.” He told them both. “They seem to be going in alphabetic order.”

“So who is the next victim?” Nat asked as Tony pulled up a picture on the screen.

“Mr Howard Jameson.” Tony answered the two of them.

“Okay, we’re going to need to have a 24 hour detail around him.” Steve told them both.

“But what if this whole thing about Hydra is true?” Tony questioned. “We would be going against everything we stand for.”

“I know, but we need to catch this Ghost, get them to tell us everything they know.” Steve told them.

“What makes you think they would tell us everything?” Nat questioned as Steve smiled. “Wanda, you want her to reach into their mind.”

“It’s what we need, then maybe we can finish this whole thing with Hydra ourselves.” Steve told them both. “We need to get everyone briefed and out ready, we are going to catch this bastard.”

“Language!” Tony gasped, making Nat chuckle as Steve shook his head, a small smile on his face.

“Do you think we have a chance at catching them before they kill their next victim?” Yelena questioned as everyone made their way to their assigned locations.

“I’m not sure, with everything we have learned about them so far, they seem to be just as easy as catching mist.” Natasha told her, the two watching Jameson from their seats across from him in the hotel bar he was staying at. “But all we can do is try, but we have Wanda and with her powers it is a possibility that we can actually pull this off.”

“But are we sure we want to?” Yelena asked her, receiving a firm look from her sister. “If all of these guys are Hydra, why do we want to help protect them from someone who clearly knows everything about them.”

“Either way, how they are going about it is wrong.” Nat told her. “The way they are making them suffer before killing them is inhumane.”

“And we haven’t done much worse.” Yelena spoke sarcastically.

“You know exactly what I mean Lena.” Nat told her sternly. “There are proper channels to go through, you don’t just go around killing people, innocent or not.”

“That’s all we ever do.” Lena scoffed before observing her surroundings, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Steve asked Wanda quietly, who only nodded her head. “I know of the connection you had with this Y/N.”

“Y/N died.” Wanda told him firmly. “Whoever this person is, isn’t Y/N.” Steve only nodded and dropped the subject, turning his attention to their surroundings. “What exactly are we looking for?” Wanda questioned as she swirled the liquid in her glass.

“Anything out of the ordinary.” Steve answered.

“So, that could also be classed as ourselves.” She smirked as she sipped her drink. “But I don’t think they will be stupid enough to do anything out in the open where there are a lot of eyes on them.”

“We need to figure out what room Jameson is staying in.” Steve muttered as Nat nodded, rising from her seat and heading towards the hotel lobby. A flirtatious smile adorned her face as she approached the concierge.

“Can I help you?” They asked her, returning her smile.

“I need some information.” She told them. “Do you know what room Howard Jameson is staying in? My boss, he’s the head of Jameson’s security detail, has asked for me to check his room, as you know there have already been a string of Government assassinations and we fear that Jameson may be a target and he told me what room he was staying in, but I have already forgotten. So can you help me?”

“Of course.” They smiled as they typed away on their computer, looking at the hotel listings. “But I can assure you that we have a top of the range security system ourselves.”

“I know, it’s just precautions that we like to keep in-house.” She told them.

“Room 38.” They told her.

“Thank you.” She gave them a smile before she headed towards the elevator. “I’m heading up to check the room now.” She spoke through the comms.

“We’re on our way.” Steve told her. “Clint, Yelena, you two stay here and don’t let Jameson leave your sight.” Wanda followed Steve towards the stairs, heading up towards the room as fast as they could. “Natasha, do not enter that room until we are there.”

“Of course.” Nat answered as she stood down the hall from the room, waiting for the others to arrive. As soon as the stairwell door opened, she smirked as she saw Steve enter the hall. “You sure took your time, old man.” She teased before they all made their way down the hall.

“Wanda, if we see them, you’re going to need to use your powers to restrain them.” Steve told her in a hushed tone. “Just long enough for us to slap these power dampening restraints on them.”

“How do you know if they have powers?” Nat questioned as Steve looked at her.

“I don’t, I’m just taking extra precautions.” He told them, gesturing for Wanda to open the door, once the door opened, the room was covered in darkness, the only light was the faint light cast from the moon. Wanda shuddered as she felt a presence she hadn’t felt in so many years, using her powers, surrounding the Ghost and preventing them from moving. Leaving them frozen in their spot, Steve was fast to slap the cuffs on them. “Let’s take them to the compound.” He told them, leading them all outside and heading towards the fire exit.

Wanda watched as Y/N stood at the other end of the hall, their focus remained on Strucker as he gave them their orders. Wanda was always curious as to how Y/N had managed to get their role as Strucker’s right hand, knowing that they must be his most trusted confidant. She smiled slightly as they turned to face her, soon faltering as their face remained emotionless whilst in the presence of Strucker.

“What was that about?” Wanda questioned once Y/N had approached her, they looked over their shoulder before they answered.

“We are going to get you and Pietro out of here tonight.” They told her. “We have word that the Avengers are planning an attack.”

“Stark.” Wanda seethed as Y/N tried to keep her calm.

“We need to get you both out of here, before the attack happens.” They told her quietly. “I have a plan but I am going to need both of you to follow my every instruction.” Wanda nodded as they explained everything to her, using her powers to inform Pietro of their plan.

Ghost remained in cuffs as they paced the cell, aware of the cameras that were watching them. They remained in their mask as Fury entered the cells, accompanied by the others. They stopped their pacing when they noticed they had company, their eyes met Wanda’s, holding her gaze as Fury spoke.

“What the hell are they doing in lock up?!” He questioned them, looking between the team before his gaze went back to Ghost.

“They are a national threat.” Steve answered him. “They have already killed multiple government reps and who knows how many more.”

“I don’t care! They are on strict orders to take down anyone with any power of restoring Hydra to its former glory.” He told them angrily.

“You knew about this?” Nat questioned.

“Of course I do! They are working under my orders.” He told them.

“I don’t understand.” Steve spoke unsurely as Fury asked Tony to unlock the cell, allowing him inside.

“Uncuff them.” He ordered Steve, once they were uncuffed, they removed their mask, causing Wanda’s world to fall apart in one moment.

“Come on.” Y/N urged the twins, leading them through the base, taking out any agents who had crossed their path. “The old sewer access is right here.” They opened the door for the two of them, the sound of the alarm and gunfire filling their ears. They urged the two of them to go through the tunnel first before following behind them.

“This way!” An agent’s voice could be heard, their footsteps following the three of them closely. “They’re escaping!”

“Hurry up.” Y/N urged the two of them. “There should be a manhole not too far ahead.” They told them both. Once they had seen the ladders leading up, Pietro was the first to climb followed by Wanda, just as the agents were coming up behind them. Y/N had raised their gun, firing at the agents before following the twins.

“Y/N!” Wanda yelled as she looked behind her, seeing as Y/N struggled to keep running.

“Keep moving!” They yelled, gesturing for her to keep moving, Wanda ignored them and ran back towards them, putting her arm around them to help them run with her.

“You’re hurt.” She told them as they stumbled to the ground.

“I’ll be fine.” They told her, Wanda’s eyes found multiple bullet wounds as she tried to stop the bleeding. “You both need to keep moving.” They coughed as Wanda shook her head.

“I’m staying.” She told them as Pietro approached the two of them, she looked up at her twin, sadness in her eyes. “We need to get them help.”

“Wanda.” Y/N tried as they winced, trying to get her attention. “You both need to leave.”

“No.” Wanda shook her head.

“I’m sorry.” They coughed as Wanda gave them a sad smile as she shook her head.

“It’s okay, we’re going to get you help.” Wanda tried as Pietro knelt beside her, resting his hand on her shoulder.

“Wanda.” He tried as Wanda shook her head. “They're losing too much blood.”

“THEN HELP ME!” She yelled at him. “Please.” She cried as she looked at her brother. “I can’t lose anyone else, please.”

“It’s okay.” Y/N whispered, their breathing labored. “It will be okay.”

“I can’t.” Wanda shook her head as Y/N turned to Pietro.

“Keep her safe.” They told him.

“Always.” He answered before Y/N turned to Wanda.

“Thank you.” They whispered before they closed their eyes, their breathing soon coming to a halt as Wanda shook her head.

“No.” She whispered, tears streaming as she held them. “No, you can’t leave me.”

“Come on, we have to go Wanda.” Pietro told her, pulling her up to her feet and taking her in his arms.

“They’re supposed to be dead.” Steve spoke up, recognising Y/N from the picture Tony had pulled up.

“They were almost.” He told them. “How do you think you had the information and location of that Hydra base in Sokovia? Y/N here was my agent on the inside.”

“So all of that about your parents was a lie?” Wanda questioned, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice.

“No, that was all true.” They answered her. “I uh I deflected once I met you and your brother, I hated how they treated the both of you. I knew I needed help to protect you both.”

“Pietro died.” Wanda told them, watching as they looked at their hands as her tears started to fall. “I had lost the only two people I had ever loved, who had ever looked out for me and.” She took a deep breath before she stepped closer to them. “You died in my arms! You fucking died!” She yelled as she started to hit at their chest, her tears falling. “I WATCHED YOU BLEED OUT IN MY ARMS!! I CRIED FOR YOU!! MOURNED YOU AND YOU ARE STILL ALIVE!!”

“I never meant for this to hurt you.” They told her, regret evident in their voice.

“I can’t do this.” She whispered as she left, heading straight for her room, leaving everyone in the cells. Y/N attempted to follow her but was stopped by Steve.

“We need to know everything you know about these government officials.” He told them firmly, Y/N sighed before following the team to the briefing room. Y/N had gave them all of the names of the Hydra adversaries that remained hidden within the government.

“How do you know all of this?” Nat questioned as she leaned against the wall, her arms folded across her chest. “I just don’t understand how we are supposed to trust you.”

“I used to be Strucker’s right hand.” They answered her honestly. “I was always present at any important meetings with those who he answered to.”

“How did you get to be Strucker’s right hand?” She questioned, her eyes burning into them, watching their every move.

“When I was taken from my family, he was the one who took me under his wing, he also made a deal with Dreykov, to train me to be the best agent for Hydra, without any other DNA enhancements.” They answered. “He wanted someone who he could overpower if they got too out of hand, unlike the Winter Soldier who was considered a flight risk after Captain America resurfaced. I made the best Agent because I had no means of humanity left, they saw to that when they murdered my parents and little brother in front of me.”

“Why did it take you so long to turn against them? You could have easily helped SHIELD sooner.” She pressed on as Y/N shook their head.

“I was scared, it wasn’t just pure loyalty to him or Hydra.” Y/N told her, not showing any emotion. “They wanted to take away what would have been known as a weakness, to them, my family was a weakness and I had no one. I was soon declared dead once the police who investigated my family’s death had no leads as to where I could be. That was until I met the twins, I understood why they volunteered, although it was blindly and Hydra manipulated the two of them into thinking they would help them protect their home. I then remembered just how messed up Strucker and the rest of Hydra was, they would stop at nothing for world domination, making the world within Hitler’s image, not sparing any innocent lives who dared to stand against them. The love and respect the twins had for each other, that they would do anything to protect each other and the innocence of their home, that made me realise just what I needed to do, so I made a deal with Fury. I was to help the twins escape, hand over the coordinates of every known Hydra base, and I was to help SHIELD with the downfall of Hydra.” They kept their eyes on her, shielding any emotion that threatened to show through their eyes as they spoke. “It was Fury who found me, along with Agent Hill and they brought me to the best SHIELD medical specialist they had. They had saved me and I was given my orders to eliminate any possible threat of Hydra rising again.”

“You killed all of those people.” Steve spoke in disdain. “You practically tortured them and we are supposed to just work with you? You were Hydra once yourself, you must have believed in what they stood for once.”

“Your friend over there, he was also Hydra, he was with them longer than I, he has more innocent blood on his hands than I. Romanoff and Belova were Widows, working for the Red Room and executing Dreykov’s orders, given Belova was more an experiment of a cognitive serum, so she also had all of her free will stripped away but Romanoff.” They turned to look at her. “You executed Dreykov’s orders without question, you were in the same shoes as I. You had no family, the only family you knew of was all a ruse for Dreykov to get his hands on some information that Alexei retrieved before Dreykov took both you and your sister. You are no better than I.”

“I am nothing like you.” Natasha spoke, clenching her jaw.

“No? Who was it that had died in that explosion for your deflection to SHIELD?” Y/N questioned. “Dreykov’s daughter, she was no older than 11 years old.”

“She didn’t die.” Natasha defended.

“But you didn’t know that until you took down the Red Room yourself, so for years you lived with that guilt, you have lived with the guilt of all of those lives that were also lost in the crossfire.” They told her. “All of you have just as much innocent blood on your hands as I.”

“Y/L/N.” Fury spoke sternly, Y/N apologised before they retreated. “Y/N here will be joining you, they will help you with any missions we send your way as they also continue to take down Hydra before it is reborn.” He looked between Steve and Natasha. “I want no objections. Mr Stark, Y/N here will need a room set up.” Tony nodded before Fury left the briefing room.

Settling in wasn’t easy for Y/N, the atmosphere was cold and bitter, making them feel unwelcome. They spent most of their time in their room, other than being in the training room during the night. As they returned to their room, they had seen Wanda for the first time in a couple of weeks. She was sitting on their bed, her chin resting on her hand, Y/N knocked on their door to gain her attention.

“You know, it feels odd to knock on my own door.” They teased with a gentle smile, they watched as Wanda fought back a smile as they entered the room, closing the door behind them. “I’m sorry, Wanda.” She shook her head before she spoke.

“I just, I want an explanation.” She told them. “I just, I don’t understand. You died in my arms and now you are standing right here, in front of me, very much alive.”

“I’ll be honest, I thought I was dead too.” They spoke honestly as they sat beside her. “I had lost a substantial amount of blood, that I even had no chance of surviving even if I went to the nearest hospital.”

“You stopped breathing.” She whispered.

“I know.” They looked at their hands as Wanda observed them. “But the human body is a magnificent thing, when it has gone through a lot of pain and trauma, the heart rate slows down, right down, almost as though it would have stopped.” They took a deep breath. “Not too long after you and Pietro had left, Fury had sent in a team to my location, taking me to one of SHIELD’s top facilities. He had the best doctors and surgeons save me, they saved my life and once I had regained consciousness, there wasn’t a moment where you weren’t on my mind. I wanted to find you and your brother, I wanted to make sure that you were safe but I had made a deal with Fury, so I had to follow orders, I was unable to come and find you.” They turned to look in her eyes. “Then I heard the news of Pietro’s death, I defied my orders and came to find you, I saw you, you were healthy and safe but I hated seeing the pain in your eyes, the grief you were drowning in and I knew that if I had come back, you would only hate me for leaving you.”

“I could never hate you.” Wanda whispered as Y/N shook their head. “I lo.. I need to go, I have a mission tomorrow with Natasha.” She told them as she stood up, heading towards their door.

“I really am sorry, Wanda.” They told her quietly. “I never wanted you to feel all of that pain, I only wanted to protect you, I still do feel this need to protect you.”

“I guess some things never change.” She whispered before she left the room, closing the door behind her. Y/N knew in that moment they would do everything they could to keep her safe, to protect her, they knew that in that moment, they were exactly where they needed to be.

[orellazalonia]

Slow to Forgive

Summary: Bucky reports back to the team as he copes with what has happened among her, you, and everything else that has occurred. Meanwhile, a few people gradually start visiting you, trying to reconnect in their own different ways.

Word Count: 2.7k+

Main Masterlist | The One You Don’t See Masterlist

The others were already gathered when Bucky returned.

He stepped through the door with that same steady walk, but something about his posture was tighter now. Like tension had settled into his spine and hadn’t left. Steve noticed it first. Natasha second. Sam leaned off the wall, catching the subtle difference in Bucky’s expression.

No one said anything at first.

Just waited.

“She’s not panicked,” Bucky said finally, his voice low as he moved to the table. “She’s calm. Like she’s already made peace with what happens next.”

Steve crossed his arms. “Did she give you anything?”

“No intel,” Bucky replied, shaking his head. “No locations, no contacts, nothing we can use right away.”

“But?” Bruce prompted, reading between the lines.

“But she believes she’s right.” Bucky leaned on the table now, both hands braced against the edge. “Every word out of her mouth was confident. She doesn’t think she betrayed us, she thinks she exposed us.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Did she admit to leaking the access codes?”

“She didn’t need to. She didn’t deny it either.” He exhaled. “She didn’t even sound angry. Just… disappointed.”

Sam muttered something under his breath and paced to the other side of the room.

Wanda looked up quietly from where she sat near the terminal. “She hurt you.”

It wasn’t a question.

Bucky’s gaze flicked to hers, and for a second the mask cracked. A flicker of something raw passed through his eyes before it disappeared again.

“She was good at pretending,” He admitted. “And maybe I was good at letting her.”

Steve’s brows drew in, thoughtful but firm. “You think she’s still playing us?”

“I think,” Bucky began carefully, “That she meant everything she said. And that’s what makes her dangerous.”

“Conviction,” Natasha murmured.

“Yeah.” Bucky straightened. “She’s not waiting to be rescued. She’s not scared of the consequences. She really believes she did the right thing.”

Clint let out a long sigh. “So… what now? We sit on our hands while she philosophizes us into another blind spot?”

“We keep her locked down,” Natasha said firmly. “And we dig. Every file, every trace, every soft point in the system she could’ve used.”

Steve nodded slowly. “We can’t take any chances.”

Wanda looked toward the far hallway, where the containment wing lay silent behind reinforced doors. “She was always so kind,” She whispered. “It’s strange how kindness can be used like a blade.”

Bucky didn’t respond. He didn’t move.

He just stared at the map projected on the center table, a faint blinking cursor where the organization’s last known base used to be.

“I don’t think she regrets it,” He said. “And that’s the part that scares me the most.”

The new room they’d put you in wasn’t a cell. But it wasn’t anything cozy either.

It had walls. A bed, a bench, and a chair. There was even a sink, a screen, and a light that never fully shut off. Just bright enough to make sleeping feel unnatural. Just soft enough to keep you awake wondering when someone would knock and say it was time for another “talk.”

You sat curled up in the corner of the narrow bed, legs tucked to your chest, back pressed against the wall. You weren’t restrained, but the silence weighed heavier than metal.

Nobody had said much since the breach. No one told you anything. And so, you didn’t ask.

You were used to being forgotten, even here, even now.

So when the door slid open, you didn’t look up right away. Not until you heard his voice.

“Hey,” Sam said softly, stepping just inside the room. “Mind some company?”

You blinked. Then nodded once.

He didn’t sit right away. Just glanced around, eyes scanning the room and then you. Not with suspicion. Just quiet concern. His expression was gentle, like someone walking into a room where grief still lingered and not wanting to stir it too hard.

“You okay?” He asked, voice low.

You shrugged. “Define okay.”

That made the corner of his mouth twitch. Something close to a smile.

“Fair.”

He finally stepped over and took the chair, spinning it once before settling in backward, with his arms resting on the back like he always had a way of making everything feel casual. Even this.

“They told me you were still here,” He said. “Didn’t feel right that no one came to check in.”

You said nothing.

“I figured… after all this, you probably didn’t want another interrogation.”

That got a small, huffed sound from you, something resembling a laugh, or the ghost of one.

He glanced around, then leaned in slightly. “So I thought I’d do something crazy.”

You tilted your head.

“Just come in here and talk to you like a person.”

A beat of silence.

Then, softer, he added, “Or sit here in case you didn’t want to talk at all. I’m good at both.”

You swallowed. The words felt stuck in your throat. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him. At the kindness in his eyes. The warmth. Not pity or duty. Simply kindness.

It undid something small in your chest.

“Why?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

Sam didn’t pretend. He sighed and leaned back a little.

“Because no one did before,” He said. “Not enough.”

You looked away.

“It’s not your job.”

“Nope,” He agreed. “Doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

Silence stretched between you. But it wasn’t sharp or cold. It settled softly.

“You didn’t have to come.”

“I know,” He replied gently. “That’s why I did.”

You blinked rapidly, jaw tightening as you tried not to feel too much. He noticed you didn’t feel like talking yet so he stood slowly, brushing his hands on his jeans.

“I’m not gonna push you,” He said. “But if you ever want to talk or sit or just complain about the food, I’m around.”

He paused at the door.

Then glanced back, his tone a little lighter.

“Oh. And I brought you something.”

From his jacket pocket, he pulled a granola bar and a pack of trail mix out, placing them both on the small ledge beside the sink.

“Not gourmet,” He said with a wink, “but better than those ration bricks.”

Then he left. No big goodbye. No expectation. Just a quiet kindness in the space where silence had taken root.

You stared at the snacks for a long time. And then, finally, you let yourself smile.

Just a little.

Even with Sam’s little visit, deep down, you really didn’t expect anyone to come back.

That was the rule, wasn’t it? People check in once, feel a little better about themselves, and then move on. Let the silence do the work. Let the person behind the glass fade back into being no one again.

But when the door opened again the next morning, you looked up; and this time, you blinked in quiet surprise.

Clint Barton stepped in, hands full of something that smelled like breakfast. His brow lifted when he saw you curled on the bed, alert.

“Morning,” He said, like this was normal. Like the awkwardness didn’t exist.

You sat up slowly, confused. “…Hi?”

He held up the bag. “Wanda said you liked blueberry muffins. I figured she wouldn’t say that unless it was true. So, uh… here.”

He crossed the room, setting the bag gently down beside you on the bed. Then, very deliberately, he stepped back. Giving you space and letting you decide what came next.

You looked at the bag. Then at him. “Why are you here?”

Clint scratched the back of his neck. “Sam told me you hadn’t really eaten. Thought maybe real food would help.” A beat. “And… to be honest, I feel like an ass.”

You blinked, surprised at the honesty.

He shrugged. “I was one of the people who got used to you always being quiet and efficient. Thought that meant you were fine. I should’ve known better.” His voice lowered. “That’s on me.”

You looked away. The muffin bag crinkled softly in your hand, “I’m not good at this.”

“Neither am I,” Clint said, half-smiling. “But we can sit in mutual awkward silence if that helps.”

You let out a soft laugh. It wasn’t much, but it cracked the shell a little.

He pulled the chair closer and sat without ceremony, resting his elbows on his knees. “You don’t have to talk about anything heavy,” He assured. “You want to tell me your least favorite cereal? We can do that.”

You studied him. Really got a good look at him. And for once, no part of his expression or demeanor was guarded. So you offered, quietly, “I think the off-brand fruit loops taste like sadness.”

He grinned. “Strong take. I respect that.”

A pause.

“Clint?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know if I’m staying.”

He nodded, gaze soft. “That’s okay.”

You looked down at the muffin in your lap, hands curled around the warmth of the bag. “But I… don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t be,” He said without hesitation.

And you believed him. For the first time in a long time, you really did.

The punching bag didn’t help Bucky.

He’d already changed it out twice that week, not because it tore, but because hitting it stopped giving him the quiet he needed.

Sleep hadn’t come easy either.

Not since that conversation. Not since her voice started echoing in his head again, so calm, so certain.

“You saw her breaking. You cared. But you didn’t reach out.”

He’d wanted to yell, to argue and push it away. But the worst part was… she was right.

He had seen it. The way you dimmed. The way you shrunk in rooms full of heroes and went unseen. And he'd noticed. He had meant to check in. Had meant to say something.

But he hadn’t.

Because other things always came first. Because you weren’t loud about needing help. Because he was focused on someone else.

And now? Now he kept hearing about how Clint stopped by. How Sam brought you snacks. How Bruce gave you books to read. And Wanda? Wanda just sat beside you in silence some days.

Like they all remembered you now, when it no longer counted the same.

He hadn’t visited yet. He just couldn’t bring himself to. He didn’t know what he’d say.

Because when he finally looked you in the eye, he was afraid you’d see the truth. That it wasn’t the betrayal from her that cut the deepest. It was how he had let you slip through his fingers without ever reaching out.

And he didn’t know if there was still time to fix that.

The lights in the corridor were dimmer at night.

Maybe to soften the edge of your confinement. Maybe to make the long hours feel less sterile. Either way, the hum of the overhead bulbs filled the space like static.

You didn’t look up when the door opened. You’d gotten used to the rhythm of footsteps by now. Sam’s easy presence, Wanda’s almost soundless approach, the calm echo of Bruce’s shoes.

But this was different.

It was heavier. Slower. Familiar in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Your eyes lifted to find Bucky standing in the doorway. His hands were in his jacket pockets. Shoulders tense. His eyes flicked briefly to you before settling on a spot near the floor.

Neither of you spoke at first.

He crossed the room quietly, but didn’t sit. Just stood there, a little too close to the wall, like he didn’t trust himself to come closer.

You watched him for a moment then lowered your gaze. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

He exhaled, the sound rougher than he meant it to be. “I wasn’t.”

That surprised you.

“I didn’t know what I’d say,” He continued quietly. “Still don’t.”

You didn’t move. Neither did he.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, restless. “I’ve been trying to figure out when I stopped noticing you. When I stopped saying more than hi in passing. When you became part of the backdrop.”

Your throat tightened.

His gaze looked at you then. “I think you used to smile. Maybe not often. But when you did, it was real. You looked like someone who could still hope.”

You didn’t answer.

“Then it faded,” He murmured. “And I noticed that, too. And I didn’t do anything.”

You pressed your nails lightly into your palms. Just to feel something.

“Why are you telling me this now?” You whispered.

“Because I think I liked you,” He said.

Your breath caught.

“Not like… falling-for-you liked. I mean, maybe. But mostly I saw you. And I let that mean nothing.”

Silence thickened between you.

Bucky stepped forward then, just one step, and crouched beside you.

“I thought I was good at spotting people on the edge,” He said. “After everything I’ve been through, I thought I’d know. But I missed it with you. And I’m sorry.”

You stared at him, unable to speak. There was too much in your chest. Guilt. Anger. Longing. Sadness. A million things you didn’t have the right words for.

“You don’t have to forgive me,” He added gently. “Hell, you don’t have to say anything at all. I just needed you to know that… I should’ve been better.”

You didn’t look at him right away.

You couldn’t.

Because if you did, you were afraid you’d break all over again. And you’d done enough of that in private. Battling quiet grief. Handling silent disappointments. The kinds no one noticed, the kind no one had to.

Bucky stayed crouched by the chair, close enough to feel but not close enough to lean on. He gave you space. He always did, even when it was too much.

Your hands stayed in your lap, clenched lightly, fingers curled around the fabric of your sleeves.

“I used to…” Your voice wavered. You cleared your throat. “I used to imagine what it’d be like if you saw me.”

You could feel him shift slightly, not toward you, not away. Just enough to show he was listening.

“I don’t mean in some dramatic, love at first sight way,” You said quickly, eyes still locked on the floor. “I just… wondered what it would feel like to have your attention. Even for a minute, a full genuine minute.”

Silence.

Your hands trembled but you pressed on still.

“And then I stopped imagining,” You continued softly. “Because even when I was in the room, even when I worked, helped, covered for people; I was never someone worth looking at. Not to you. Not to any of you.”

That part cracked out sharper than you meant.

You finally looked at him. He looked like he’d been punched in the gut.

“I wasn’t waiting for a confession,” You said. “I wasn’t waiting for you or them. I’m not that naive.”

He opened his mouth, but you kept going.

“I just wanted to matter.” Your voice broke on the last word. “Not because I was loud, brilliant, or charming. Just because I was me.”

He closed his mouth again.

“I tried not to care,” You said. “When you talked to her, smiled at her, looked at her like she was the only one in the room.”

Bucky’s jaw tensed.

“And one of the worst parts?” You leaned back, blinking hard. “She was looking at me. Watching me disappear and she still let me go.”

A long silence stretched between you.

“I know I’m not innocent,” You said quietly. “I made my choice. But I didn’t do it because I hated you or anyone. I did it because I didn’t think anyone would come…”

He let out a shaky breath. “I wanted to.”

“But you didn’t.”

You didn’t say it cruelly. You said it like it was the truth. Because it was.

He stood slowly, step by step, as if gravity had doubled. His eyes were full of something heavy, unreadable.

“I don’t expect forgiveness,” He reiterated.

You nodded. “Good. Because I don’t know if I have it yet.”

Then he left, solemnly.

And when the door slid shut again, you finally let the tears fall, not because you were angry.

But because you still cared.

And that might’ve been the cruelest part of all.

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